By Jason Lalremruata
I tire of this quarrel; this silence has gone on for too long.
I fear we must amend before it’s too late,
before we sing a tragic, depressed and unhappy song.
What was once a sweet melody, a tune so fine,
a humming rhyme is now a halted piece
turned into tragic notes.
Now, I fear it is far too late.
Fate is a nasty word, an edifice of misconception
adding to happiness, a brand of deception.
Longing for peace, I tire of this uneasy, overdue quarrel.
Permission to cease; it beckons now, heihi ami kan chantawk khuarel?
*Heihi ami kan chantawk khuarel is a Mizo phrase (the language spoken in
Mizoram) that means ‘is this how fate has destined us to be (?)’
By Jason Lalremruata
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