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Living in Manipur: 'I fought many silent battles'

Born and raised in northeast India gave me an automatic resilience, that I put to good use when I moved to the mainland

Many years ago, in Imphal (the capital of Manipur), while playing with my elder sister, we heard gun shots far away from home. We hurried up to the terrace with the curiosity of teenagers. Our house was about a kilometre or two from a local college. We saw a frantic mob running helter-skelter in that college premise. Bullets were flying in many directions. We were not unfamiliar with the sound of bullets; we were plain curious to know which underground party was having an encounter with the cops. Insurgency was already looming its ugly head while I was growing up, and I could rattle off names of the many underground groups that frequently disrupted our schools and declared sudden curfews. Today, as I look back and reflect, it is really an indication of how troubled the time while I was growing up was. That was my first lesson of having to live with courage.

The worsening of affairs in the state finally led my parents to send me and my siblings to boarding schools in nearby states that were considered safer than Manipur. Later, I landed in Delhi for higher education and stayed on. I consider myself a byproduct of a very troubled state. I was misplaced and displaced by compelling circumstances that were not personal, that were clearly not in my hands.

Somehow, it has always stayed in my mind that I have a far deeper purpose in life having come along all the way. Leaving the security of home made me not just independent but responsible about every decision I take. My physical journey from Manipur to Delhi has been a great factor in grounding me and not taking things for granted. That realisation becomes a drive in whatever I do — big or small — with a no-looking-back attitude.

I dived into journalism with a noble intention and a dream that, perhaps, I could change the world I represent. I believed my pen had a larger purpose than that of my colleagues.

Meanwhile, Delhi grew on me gradually but not without testing and putting me on a scanner time and again. I faced issues everyone who comes from India’s northeast face: racial discrimination, prejudices, misconceptions and judgements. I treaded cautiously and carefully. I minded and watched every little step I took, knowing that any slip would put not just me but the region where I come from in a negative spotlight. Importantly, a wrong move would justify the majority’s perception. That meant I worked harder than anyone else. I fought many silent battles.

All that worked as a motivation to do better than others. I was not competing with anyone but with myself. I was here to stay and not to give up.

As I reflect upon the many things that made me resilient, what’s at the core of it all is what I carried from my home. The love and trust of my family. And, of course, that desperateness to do well because there was nothing to expect from a failed state that was fractured beyond repair. It was either shine or return home with a bleak prospect in life.

On another level, what I grew up on — a rich and sound spiritual diet back home — has been a source of strength. I learnt how to pick myself up whenever I fell or when people failed me. Simple things like having a bad boss at work I learnt to deal with far better than many other colleagues. Emotional maturity and emotional intelligence are something that comes very naturally when I needed them.

Of course, on a lighter, but equally pertinent, note, I do not discount the healthy, sumptuous and nutritious diet that we grew up on. Rice with lots of vegetables and meat sans typical masalas have gone a long way in building my stamina. That came handy when I had Covid in mid-2020. In the Covid ward, I was the only one doing yoga, meditating and even doing stories. Life is a cakewalk when you can weather all storms mindfully!

(Hoihnu Hauzel is an independent journalist, and founder of www.northeastodyssey.com and www.thenestories.com. Her views are personal.)