Self-Actualisation Poem by Kynpham Sing Nongkynrih

Like Shelley with his ‘blithe spirit',
I have often tried to understand
this man named Kynpham.

How should I describe myself?

A son of a crab since I fail to suffer
my mother's temper, who, living in my
house treats me as one of her tenants.

An abusive husband since I decline to be tamed
in a matrilineal arrangement;
a devoted husband since beautiful women
are intimidating and no one knows,
I seek even now the woman who, if found,
would be the ruin of my life.

A wicked neighbour since I object to a toilet
built against my compound wall and even bark
at window-breaking locality boys.

A felonious councillor since I attend the village
dorbar* without a moustache; a guilty bystander
since I make myself as small as a mouse even when
riffraff and drunks are drowning out all reason.

A bad relation since I dislike
clan meetings and spurn playing
mother against aunt,
brother against brother.

An ‘evil' administrator since I forbid
the staff to come at noon
and depart just after noon.

A Vice-Chancellor's chamcha since I happen
to be a Public Relations Officer and the academia
cannot tell between personal and official.

A recalcitrant Indian since I am buried
too deep in my tribal roots and refuse to be
swept away by the Main Stream; a mutinous
Indian since I protest against army occupation,
uranium mining, influx and saffronisation.**

A counterfeit scholar, since I write
only poetry, working at a university.

A small-time poet since I cannot class myself
a small-town writer since this town judges books
by the weight and writers by their age.

A retrograde since I want trees on the hills,
birds in the woods, fishes in the streams;
a heathen, since I believe in sacred groves;
an atheist since I am not a Christian;
a heretic since I believe in the humanity
of my conscience.

An enemy of the human race since I believe
in animal rights and birth control; an advancer
of the Malthusian theory since I wish to include weapons
of mass destruction in the list of natural calamities.

A hopeless believer since I do not know what
is to be done with all that I believe; a hypocrite
since I pursue private dreams and, like a dog,
nod with the head and shake with the tail at everything.

I shall describe myself as that supreme diplomat:
‘I am who I am', and that is the ultimate enigma.

*Khasi village council. Traditionally, drunks and men
without a moustache are not allowed to participate.
**An attempt to apply fundamentalist Hindu principles to
important national policies.