SECURITY BANDOBAST!

As the “VVIP” lollopped his way out of the stage, curtains came down on yet another play, another show. The Chief’s gone and so has the katzenjammeric effect that had entailed his arrival. As the Lal Batti (LB) wanes its way into a distance, the same LB culture continues to create havoc in our rustic (euphemistically for dusty!) land. Just when you thought one has left, the other makes its way right onto your footrest. What is left of you is a column of air to float or dangle upon whichever is applicable! Atleast a dozen cars driving down behind the VIP’s MUV, leaving behind a long and towering trail of dust essentially turning passers-by into brown standing structures!!

And ofcourse the loyal khaki friends are kept on their toes until they see the back of the ‘VVIP’ (emphasis on the double v) and receive stand down orders. Security arrangement is always a tall order whenever “State leaders” visit places. And yes, the tension across the rank and file of the security machinery in such times is a reality and a grim picture to witness! Any hitch and you have it. No snag and no one really bother- a mammoth task indeed bandobasting ‘VVIP’ security!!

VILLAGE IDENTITY

The root of every Naga lies deep in the countryside. The identity of any Naga hangs long on his Village. Every Naga, no matter where he lives, reveres moments of the good old times when life was blithe and carefree - the fields, the farms, the hills, the hays…every one almost unexceptionally affixes this landscape with an emotional attachment.

…that old stone still unmoved, that old gate still standing, that tall tree still growing but looking less intimidating. Fond memories rebuff to die away. The simple village life, the broad smiles along every shelter you pass by, the smell of the village soil… "certain things money can’t buy!”

With such deep associations, the identity of a Naga rests profoundly on the village he belongs. And people get charged when it comes to ‘the village’. There’s a peculiar pride attached with village sentiments - an effort to identify oneself with the Village, an attempt to establish oneself with village lore. A unique appreciation for people with traditional teachings and a particular liking for folks who share a common village. After all there’s a serious esteem for one’s village and the values that abound there!

Villages are where grandparents have left a mark, villages are where parents live and where friends of old times wait. Naturally, deep roots remain too dear for any human to sever links with.

The Village is where it all begins and there it ends too. The mortals wish to be laid on the proud soil where they spent “their best times”; the land of the opera of chirping birds, the howls of blissful children all around and the deafening sound of peace- the scenery they spot in every dream!