The award will be presented on February 25 in connection with the memorial observance of late Arambam Ibungohal and late Binodkumari.
Sunday Musing: Loneliness becomes the new normal As seasons change ever faster
SUNDAY MUSING: The ability to see the invisibility... Through our dreams and visions uncovers tomorrow's mystery
In the land of Kangleipak...No servant all are Lord... Drowning the culture of foreign...Everybody learnt the culture
SUNDAY MUSING: I sleep to the storm and I wake up to it ... The smell of mildew is familiar and stains my clothes... It's days like these the cold always seeps to your bones
A look into the mirror only reflects Face and flesh of our mortal form
SUNDAY MUSING: The bamboos were dark... The sky was sombre, So also were everybody's faces.
Isn't she brave? Is it not for her, the state tolls its bells? She goes to the battlefield, when everyone stays shut.
Because I never waited for him to get up.
'Will the arc of our story like the rainbow bend... Back on the intended road to sorrow’s end...'
Pelting my face to a glistening ruby gleam, Rinsing my hair to a gleaming ebony sheen, Soaking my soul like nourishing comfort soups...
And ah the clouds above - White fluffy, seamless puffs Like boats sailing In some celestial sea.
In the dark and the rain, amidst the mocking frogs and the relentless night-bugs I prayed for morning light.
And surely without doubt, We have lost our old world... O Corona!
Even so, time is still alive. Resting on it, who is alive?
On a blistering afternoon, it came free By the highway under a laburnum tree...
Amused by the little things... Finding bliss in little things... A hippie I will be.
Food in my mouth flowing... Chemicals and plastics all around... If I am a fish now, I’ll be lost anyhow.
My feet are stuck in the ground providing shelter and shade to weary birds and travellers... I don’t speak much nor complain about the wind...
Better had been my days, Ere you came from nowhere, Now I am no longer what I was...