Though deeply rooted in Nagaland and the Northeast of India, Niketu Iralu’s vision reached far beyond mountains, borders and identities.
“He was a man of wisdom in our time, who taught us the deepest meaning of humanity- to listen with compassion, speak with truth and cherish the value of reconciliation and peace.”
There are people who pass through our lives, and there are rare souls who leave a light behind. They do not merely teach us how to live; they awaken something within us that we did not know existed. They do not simply offer answers; they teach us how to ask the questions that matter most.
Niketu Iralu was such a soul, his departure has left a silence that words cannot adequately embrace. The hills of Nagaland may continue to stand in their timeless prettiness, the winds may still move through the valleys, and the world may continue its restless journey, but for those who knew him, something profoundly precious has gone quiet. For me, Niketu Iralu was far more than a mentor, guide or philosopher. He was a mirror in which I learned to see myself. He helped me know myself, find myself and understand the many colours of human society: the colours of courage and fear, compassion and cruelty, truth and deception, love and prejudice. He taught me that the most difficult journey is not the journey across mountains or borders, but the journey from the self towards the truth within oneself. Through his wisdom and his example, he encouraged me to examine what is right and what is wrong according to the enduring principles of human dignity and conscience, and not according to convenience, power or circumstance. He taught me that doing the right thing is not always the easiest path, but it is the path that gives meaning to human life.
Above all, he taught me the sacred idea of selfless service. In a world increasingly measured by achievement, possession, influence and recognition, Niketu reminded us that the highest measure of a human being is how much one can give without asking what one will receive in return. Service, for him, was not charity from one person to another. It was an expression of our shared humanity. His life belonged neither to one community nor to one geography. Though deeply rooted in Nagaland and the Northeast of India, his vision reached far beyond mountains, borders and identities. His work through Initiatives of Change (IofC) and Asia Plateau reflected a conviction that humanity's deepest wounds cannot be healed by power alone. They require listening, humility, truth, courage and reconciliation.
He had the extraordinary ability to speak truth without hatred, listen without prejudice, and disagree without diminishing another human being. He listened to people's pain, their fears, their dreams. And he listened not merely to respond, but to understand and that quality is even more rare in our world. We live in an age of extraordinary scientific and technological progress, yet humanity continues to struggle with conflict, intolerance, loneliness, inequality, mistrust and violence. We can communicate across continents in seconds, yet we often fail to communicate with the human being sitting beside us. He understood this paradox deeply and he believed that reconciliation does not mean forgetting injustice. Peace does not mean surrendering truth. Living together does not require us to obliterate our differences rather, peace begins when we recognise the dignity of another human being even when we disagree with them.
That is why his message belongs not only to Nagaland, not only to India, and not only to Asia. It belongs to the world. His contribution was recognised through several honours, including the 8th Soldier of Humanity Award presented by UNBT, Kokrajhar. But I believe the deepest honour of his life was the invisible one—the trust placed in him by people who found courage, reconciliation and hope through his presence. Today, his passing has created a profound emptiness. The hills of Nagaland mourn. The IofC family and Asia Plateau mourn. The Northeast mourns. Bodoland mourns. All those, across different parts of India and the world, who were fortunate enough to come into his circle of influence feel the weight of this loss.
For a moment, we are speechless and thoughtless and perhaps, in such moments, silence itself becomes a language of grief. Yet I do not wish to remember Niketu only through sorrow. I wish to remember him through the light he left behind. A candle does not become smaller because another candle is lit from its flame. It becomes part of a greater light. In the same way, Niketu's life will continue wherever someone chooses truth over falsehood, reconciliation over revenge, dialogue over hatred, service over selfishness and compassion over indifference. His physical journey has ended, but his moral journey continues through all of us who carry something of his wisdom in our hearts. I often think that the greatest teachers do not give us a map of life. They give us a compass. Niketu gave me such a compass. It will remain with me for the rest of my life. Whenever I face difficult choices, I will remember his insistence on truth. Whenever I encounter disagreement, I will remember his patience in listening. Whenever I witness suffering, I will remember his call to serve. Whenever humanity appears divided, I will remember his faith in reconciliation.
And whenever power or position threatens to overshadow the human being within us, I will remember the simple but profound lesson he embodied: to remain human is itself the highest responsibility. I pray to the Almighty to receive his noble soul with infinite grace and eternal peace. I pray that his spirit may continue to guide us from beyond this earthly existence—to help us face the immense human crises of our age with compassion rather than anger, courage rather than fear, reconciliation rather than revenge, and love rather than hatred. The world today does not merely need more powerful people. It needs more humane people. It needs more listeners and bridge-builders. More truth-seekers and servants of humanity. More people willing to carry another person's pain as though it were their own. Niketu Iralu showed us that such a life is possible. I will remain deeply and eternally grateful to him for helping me know myself, find myself and understand my responsibility towards humanity. The ideas he shared with me, and the values I have tried to share with others, will remain with me as a guiding spirit for the rest of my life.
Perhaps this is the most beautiful way a human being can defeat death—not by living forever in the body, but by continuing to live in the conscience of others. Niketu Iralu will live there. In our conscience. In our courage and compassion. In our commitment to peace and in every act of selfless service offered to another human being.
May his soul rest in eternal peace. May his light never fade. And may we, who remain behind, have the courage to carry that light into a world that needs it more than ever. With profound gratitude, reverence and love.
Pramod Boro
Member of Parliament, Rajya Sabha