When Thengra Sleeps – What Is Wrong in Manipur?

Jesus Christ rose again after three days, proving that no truth can be buried and that justice cannot remain buried forever. In Manipur, however, almost a half century has gone by, and Thengra, that vehement voice that once roared through the pages of Lamyanba Journal, is in deep slumber.
When in the 1970s Thengra wrote, “What is wrong in Manipur?”, it was not a question but a challenge. It was a mirror held up to power, reflecting corruption, inequality, and the decay of values in governance. Thengra stood for the conscience of Manipur’s journalism-brave, relentless, and unapologetically truthful. Today, that question perhaps reverberates more urgently than ever before. Yet, nobody dares ask it aloud.
From civic activism to intellectual engagement, Manipur is now mired in a deep silence. The fourth pillar of democracy was the press, but it has traded its pen for passivity. Newsrooms that rumbled with fearless debate a decade ago today tremble between fear and convenience. Thengra’s pen, once sharper than any sword, has given way to whispers and half-truths.
A question Thengra asked fifty years ago—”What is wrong in Manipur?”—remains painfully relevant. What is wrong in the Manipur Public Service Commission, whose allegations of manipulation and nepotism have corroded public trust? What is wrong in the Social Welfare Department, whose funds for the poorest repeatedly come into question, yet accountability is nowhere to be found? What is wrong with a bureaucracy that moves files at the pace of a snail while promises of reform pile up in rhetoric?
And finally, what is wrong with the Governor, the symbolic keeper of the state, who has not been able to “fix the broken window” even after more than eight months? In any system, when a window breaks-when law and order falters, when governance cracks-it is the duty of leadership to mend it swiftly. Yet, in Manipur, the cracks have widened into crevasses, and the silence from Raj Bhavan has become deafening.
The tragedy of Manipur today is not just corruption or misrule but the normalization of both. It is the quiet acceptance that nothing can be done. It is the resignation of a people who have grown accustomed to disappointment. In the corridors of power, complacency has become culture, and accountability an exception.
Would Thengra, if living today, have kept quiet? Definitely not. He would have taken to the Imphal streets with his pen, tearing up the veils of deceit, questioning those in power, and calling upon the youth to reclaim their right to truth. But the tragedy is that Thengra’s spirit-the moral courage of journalism-has been buried under the weight of comfort, fear, and compromise.
The once moral compass, Manipur’s press now navigates cautiously between political sensitivities and bureaucratic pressure. The fear of reprisal-either economic, political, or personal-has been a constant companion for journalists. In that atmosphere, truth is the first casualty. The public, which is deprived of authentic information, is left with half-stories and doctored narratives.
When journalism stops questioning powers, democracy loses its breath. Thengra’s voice was not about exposing corruption alone but to awaken the conscience of the people. It is to kindle moral outrage where apathy had set in. And that outrage is missing today. We scroll, we react, we move on-but we do not act.
Manipur stands at a crossroads. The social fabric is strained, governance appears fractured, and faith in public institutions has eroded. Yet, amidst all this, the most dangerous development is the silence: silence of the press, silence of the people, and silence of the conscience.
The time has come to wake up Thengra once again, not as a name, but as a spirit within. It is time that journalists, intellectuals, and citizens regain the courage to ask: What is going wrong in Manipur?
Till that question is asked again—and boldly, fearlessly, and publicly—Manipur will continue to drift into a twilight of decay where injustice thrives in the shadows and truth waits for resurrection.
Jesus rose in three days to restore faith in humanity. Must we wait another fifty years for Thengra to rise and restore faith in Manipur’s journalism?
The answer lies not in history, but in the courage to question the present.