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Fragrance of Peace

November 7, 2012

She was just 28 years old, when she sat on a hunger strike…  Today she is 40, having spent 12 years of her life without food and water, continuing to protest against the atrocities of Indian armed forces while being forcibly kept alive by a drip thrust down her nose by the Indian State.

Every year since last two years this day comes and takes me to a different world. I haven’t met her, talked to her, and yet whenever I am reminded of her, I become numb and silent. A few people know that she also writes beautiful poetry mostly in Manipuri. Here is a one of her poems –

Fragrance of Peace

When life comes to its end
You, please transport
My lifeless body
Place it on the soil of Father Koubru

To reduce my dead body
To cinders amidst the flames
Chopping it with axe and spade
Fills my mind with revulsion

The outer cover is sure to dry out
Let it rot under the ground
Let it be of some use to future generations
Let it transform into ore in the mine

I’ll spread the fragrance of peace
From Kanglei, my birthplace
In the ages to come
It will spread all over the world.

– Irom Sharmila

With nothing more left to write, all I can right now hope is to meet her sometime.

Earlier posts on her –

https://earthisnotround.wordpress.com/2010/04/01/over-9-shocking-years-now/        https://earthisnotround.wordpress.com/2011/11/06/my-bounden-duty/
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