Sunday 6 August 2023

My Friend from Manipur - Short Story by Dr. Koshy A.V.

 



My Friend from Manipur

Short Story

by Dr. Koshy A.V.


I met S at a prayer meeting probably, in my brother's house or at some Christian conference. His surname was Haokip. It did not mean anything to me any more than mine - two- would have to him whether A or V. What meant something to me was his ever-smiling face. He was a doctor. He was ready to help anyone who asked in the fellowship or brotherhood by giving free consultations, advice, or prescriptions. Sometimes we worked together for work parties or in the kitchen and I used to love working with him as he was always cheerful like Jesus.

S was in Delhi for some time. When I went there, once or twice I visited him and stayed with him. Once or twice, in a small room in some hostel. I was there to attend some interview or maybe to get a visa or fly out to Libya, I don't remember precisely, while he was there to go on with his job of being a doctor.

Sometimes, rarely, after that, we used to speak online. He would ask me about my wife and kids and tell me they should go deeper into a life in Christ by being very closely knit with our friends in Norway who were in the faith. I would tell him the truth, I could not really afford it. My second daughter and I went once but the first one or wife or son did not. I still regret it.

S got married and has kids now.

Recently I got back in touch with him. You all know the reason. I heard how instigated by the BJP the Hindu Meiteis were burning churches in Imphal and other places and became concerned.

I have been calling him and talking to him occasionally after he could not make it to a conference where I had hoped to meet him again as I had last year as the huge trouble broke out and he had to cancel his tickets, being unable at that point even to step out of his house probably. We don't talk of tribe or politics or anything. Our conversations go more or less like this. He has no internet even the last time I called so I use the phone, his mobile still works, fortunately.

"Hello, brother."

"Hello, brother."

I breathe a sigh of relief each time he picks up.

"Are you ok, S?"

Yes, brother, ok, still ok, don't worry."

"How are things there?"

Not settled yet, brother, but in my town, it is not so bad. We can't leave town, it is not safe."

"Food?"

It is better now, they keep the shops open often for some time, longer, not like in the beginning so we can buy some things. There is some scarcity but we can manage."

"Money?"

"So far ok, brother."

I wonder if next month he will get his salary but don't ask him.

"I am able to go work in the hospital, brother. Getting medicines to give to the patients is difficult as routes have been blocked and they come from far away. My wife goes to the camp and does things." By camp, he means the refugees whose houses and churches had been burned down with some or many of them killed.

"How are the kids?"

"They are fine too, brother." Actually, they were not, as they are unable to go to school for one month now as it is too dangerous and risky.

"Brother", I say, "you are a doctor, you will get a job here in the South in some private or even Govt. Hospital, somehow come down here with your family, south is safer as of now."

I can't believe I am saying such dismal things. I can't believe this is MY country I am talking about.

He says, "Brother, presently we can't even leave the town. Let me see, let me think about it and see what to do. Presently, - and for the first time he says two words I had never heard him say before - "there are Meitei and Kuki in my town and both are not clashing, so it is ok."

"Ok, brother, will pray for you," I say, and keep the phone down, not knowing what else to do.

My friend is Scheduled Tribe, probably, Christian, Kuki, a northeasterner from Manipur, an educated doctor with a wife and two children and he cannot leave his own town in 2023. That part of India is not a safe place for him or his wife and kids to live in anymore as long as this Govt. is in power.

I think of the other stories, hundreds, maybe thousands of them, of the new, divided India I am living in, of simple people like S who don't appear in any TV program or on tabloids, and then of his, my friend's, ever-smiling face.

I feel sure that God won't desert them. I feel sure of it. God is with the humble and the proud he will decimate one day in his own time.

Now I will call him. To hear all the same things all over again.




Dr. Koshy A.V. is presently working as an Assistant Professor in the English Department of Jazan University, Saudi Arabia. He has many books, degrees, diplomas, certificates, prizes, and awards to his credit and also, besides teaching, is an editor, anthology maker, poet, critic and writer of fiction. He runs an autism NPO with his wife, Anna Gabriel. Two of his co-authored books published in 2020 were Amazon best-sellers in India and USA, namely, Wine-kissed Poems with Jagari Mukherjee and Vodka by the Volga with Santosh Bakaya.

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