Straight from the HEART: Lunggel Lentuol

Since childhood, Oh I mean at young age, I have been pondering and there are times I ask myself how the roads and houses in Gamdang (Outside) are so well plan and why my birthplace Churachandpur is in such a mess, at times jumble with ethnic conflict and sometimes clutter with gun-fires killing our own brethren for the sake of money or other matter. There are a lot of reason to be proud about being a Churachandpurians which I have blog about a year ago which is published is Manipur Express and Phualvatimes. Conversely, this is the dark side of the town. There is no denying that the road of the town is in a bad condition. Lots of speed breaker and potholes showing the welcoming gesture with a bouncy shook. Here is the story of my trip on the Sugnu road. It was back in the 04’s, that I remember my last to Suongpeh, for my maternal grandpa’s funeral. I was in 4 th standard at that time, the year when Ccpur is blessed with hailstorm, the size as big as saiseh. Its 2015 June,

“I know I have but the body of a weak and feeble woman, but I have the heart of a king, and of a king of England, too.” ~Queen Elizabeth Each day, when I get to the bed to start prepare myself for a sleep, All i think and imagine about is myself wearing a pretty heels with the so called "Puonve" a wrap around worn by women form our community and other community form the North-east India. I was wondering why I was so obsessed with heels and the thought of wearing them would never leave me.  So, I thought I will share this here, I do not care who all happen to read this, But so whoever read this get to know a lil more about me. The moment i imagine myself wearing a pretty dress the lower portion of the body is never occupied unless it is with a heel. No doubt, If people ask me why i love heels, the obvious answer will be because I am short and to increase my height. ( Coz, I am just 158 cm ) And you know the best things I like being my height is that  > I

This one fine day, while I taking my lazy afternoon nap, I couldn't keep my mind out of thinking when I'll wear my newly ordered heels with the wrap around wove by my mom. My mom weave khamtang of my favourite colour, she would weave any colour of my choice( The perk of having Mom with good weaving skills) . but this time, i told her that khamtang are too mainstream and I want something other than khamtang, without a word she went to the market to get a pile of tread and it took the whole day to ask which type of wrap around she is planning to weave this time. the next day when she sit down on the floor for the same , she ask me to show the picture which I showed her the day before. I showed her. After  a couple of day, my wrap around was ready to be worn in the church( for, wrap around are worn only in church:only in  rare cases like  if there is a funeral program, then only wrap around is worn by the women. for elder women, they wore everywhere. but it is odd and weird, if

  “Life may give you a hundred reason to cry, show that you have a thousand reason to smile” ~anonymous Down to memory lane, I travel to my childhood when a group of us with some elders would wake up early in the morning for morning PT to cover a round from my house and then towards the Dc office and then the main road and back to the place where we started from another route. this was the time when my definition of early morning has been extremely early as I then look back my days till today. It uses to be 3 am in the morning when the world would probably be still asleep and the other children of my ages from my hamlets and village would gather somewhere near the bus parking so that we all can make a group. Today 3 am in the morning is a late night. We normally get up as soon as we hear the gate tapping and the undertone voice of friends. The soundless and calm morning were our music, we jog to the tune of stillness. The dogs barking at us were our songs, talking really slo