tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4129948918941547117.post5439668883926884951..comments2015-01-13T07:38:02.088-08:00Comments on Shreema Ningombam: Khullang Nupi (the lady-reaper)Gathering of broken wingshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18076424698524317946noreply@blogger.comBlogger5125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4129948918941547117.post-45668949401449263732009-07-23T03:38:15.782-07:002009-07-23T03:38:15.782-07:00speechlessspeechlessSoibam Haripriyahttps://www.blogger.com/profile/11393602184064758160noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4129948918941547117.post-50007375616436606462009-07-08T18:10:29.507-07:002009-07-08T18:10:29.507-07:00For a pretty long 16 years, I was a part of villag...For a pretty long 16 years, I was a part of village life...your lovely poem has created such a nostalgic feeling that I wish...Anonymoushttps://www.blogger.com/profile/10639275401041464698noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4129948918941547117.post-54218335066515986612009-07-06T23:33:01.883-07:002009-07-06T23:33:01.883-07:00very lovely poems.. there are many of them who toi...very lovely poems.. there are many of them who toil and suffer their lives in such way only...The world of nonexistants https://www.blogger.com/profile/06173820251653247544noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4129948918941547117.post-46893120062162162752009-07-06T00:27:22.243-07:002009-07-06T00:27:22.243-07:00Lovely Poem!Lovely Poem!Ronid Aka Akhuhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/10365199697227406451noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4129948918941547117.post-23495071519131968422009-07-05T04:16:36.708-07:002009-07-05T04:16:36.708-07:00I dedicate this poem to my paternal grandmother Ma...I dedicate this poem to my paternal grandmother Manjuri who fed her children by selling thamchet and thambou( drumstick) who use to share with me stories of her past her struggle for existence and facing challenge of bringing up her children in the face of acute poverty. She told me when her eldest son(my father) was just an infant she had to go and uproot thambou along with the sisters of her locality to earn a livelihood. Indeed one day when she saw the blooming vast of lotus and its magnificent leaves a wave of tenderness erupted within her and the next moment a stream of tears rolled down her cheeks. The other elder woman saw her and said! ‘ebemma! Nacha ningshinglaklabra?..Laak-o! Laak-o! Hallase yumda’. And they came back. That story is the sweetest story anyone has ever told me and will ever be told to me. I owe my writing skill to my grandmother whose tiny gene of a poet must have been transferred to me. The phrase ‘thamna khenjongna wai wai, tharo thambalna hai hoom’ originates from her. I recalled them and write it today although she told me years ago and she is no longer with me. I love you ebok! Wherever you are I am missing you.Gathering of broken wingshttps://www.blogger.com/profile/18076424698524317946noreply@blogger.com