Our life and our destiny, we carve as authors.
Scripting our own history; we’ve had no masters.
Our Land, we inherently own;
So our ancestors had known.
Alas! Freedom as our God-given birthright,
Now lay bracketed under aggressors’ might.
The land ruled over by none save heaven,
Remains subjected to the rule of an alien.
Hark! How did God’s chosen people go wrong?
Why’d the foe play his sinister game for long?
What befalleth us to shed endless tears in this fight?
How many betrayals before we’re restored our right?
Decade after decade of protracted dialogue.
The great Delhi Act enacted afresh from prologue.
Solution- a mirage in the vast Indian desert,
To any progress, an impeding block insert.
Chasing after peace so elusive;
Signing accords- ne’er inclusive.
Like a child running after a blown-away kite,
Till the wind carries it out of his narrow sight.
The Israelites took forty long years,
Caught up in their own sinful snares.
Nagas’ Journey seems to take eternity!
All because of their greed and disunity?
A Anato Swu
Satakha Town, Zunheboto