“Irom fasted for 16 long years, in the hope that her suffering would bring change. She broke her fast last year when she realized that she needed to find another way in the face of the establishment’s indifference. She contested elections this month and received only 90 votes, as opposed to her opponent, Okram Ibobi Singh, the incumbent chief minister of Manipur who received 18,649 votes.”
Moisture…. An unshed tear
Clinging to that bright spark in her eye,
As if afraid that without it, she’d be lost.
Her need to feel, is her fuel to fight.
The tilted smile lacks humor,
But packs a depth of love in its curve.
A sixteen-year-old void in her stomach,
Reminds her this battle is yet to be won.
Hope… crumbling away like a sand castle,
An empty struggle eating her alive,
A new path, a new day…
And she is abandoned by those
who only wanted her sacrifice.
Her dreams remain unchanged,
Her heart is sore but sound….
And yet there is no peace… no brace,
For the wounds inflicted on her,
By her cruel comrades, unwilling
to fortify her in this new battleground.
And she takes another step away,
from another lonesome defeat.
Gracious as ever, she is thankful,
For the ninety who found truth,
in the deafening cacophony
of the silence of millions.