So i had to detour to kolkata because imphal was hiccoughing. The new president dint even make it to the top half of the front page. doesn't make a difference to imphal as the ferment of the amada/bangla script fight had begun to fizz. To add to it, the farm birds were catching the flu. We played with our cats and cocks, fought like cats and cocks and woke up in the morning to more pineapple at the table and bitter herb to clear any worms.
Before I came back home to kolkata, to talk to my gran before she loses all her hearing we went to churchandpur (and loktak on the way). Loktak was a fractured heaven. Supposed to have been one of the most intensely beautiful spots in the world, with uncomparable geology/geography/peace. Stopped by, and went off to Churchandpur. A very pretty village led upto by wetgreen paddy fields and wetclouds coming down on hills. So when i ask H's mom, so what did you plant here? She said, O we planted paddy no, now they plant soldiers.