Beautiful Manipur, Broken Reality

By: Marina Konsam
As Republic Day approaches, Imphal wears a festive look. Flags flutter proudly, and tricolour lights illuminate the city at night, symbolising the spirit of the Indian Republic. From a distance, the city appears vibrant and hopeful. Yet, a closer look—at eye level and below—reveals a starkly different reality. The roads tell a story of neglect: uneven, tattered, battered, and crudely patched, turning daily commuting into a dangerous struggle.
The “Right to Life” guaranteed under Article 21 of the Indian Constitution stands severely challenged in this context. When roads themselves threaten survival, one is compelled to ask: has this fundamental human right become cheap in Manipur? Who bears responsibility for lives lost in road accidents caused by such appalling infrastructure?
According to reports from the traffic control authorities in Imphal, numerous acts have been imposed, heavy fines collected, and names of traffic violators published in newspapers. Large sums have reportedly been accumulated through these penalties. Traffic personnel are stationed across Manipur and are well aware of the deplorable condition of the roads. Yet, there appears to be little effort to report these realities to the concerned authorities or to demand urgent repairs. Enforcing laws without ensuring safe infrastructure feels hollow—almost like covering half the body and pretending decency. Road conditions are often seen as a measure of a state’s development, and when compared to other Indian states, Manipur unfortunately ranks among the worst. This is nothing short of shameful.
Another deeply troubling concern is the surge in crime. Life in Manipur increasingly feels disposable, treated like a plastic wrapper—used and discarded at will. The state seems to be slowly transforming into a place where human life is disrespected, manipulated, and extinguished without remorse. Despite constitutional guarantees, crimes such as women going missing and being found dead, killings over extramarital affairs, and hit-and-run cases are alarmingly frequent. These incidents paint a grim picture where life appears to hold little value.
This atmosphere has serious implications for the younger generation. Their upbringing is shaped by chaos, fear, and violence. When the reflections they see around them are so disturbing, peace of mind becomes elusive. There is a real danger that such an environment will distort their values and affect the future of the state itself.
The people of Manipur yearn for a peaceful life—one free from atrocities and constant fear. As citizens of India, it is natural to hope for harmony and security, especially on Republic Day. However, the reality suggests otherwise. Security forces are present in overwhelming numbers, raising fears that they may one day feel like occupiers rather than protectors. While their efforts to safeguard the state are acknowledged, the absence of lasting peace, meaningful dialogue, and visible action from higher authorities only deepens public anxiety.
In conclusion, the people of Manipur increasingly feel like animals in a zoo—existing merely in name, observed by the world but unheard and uncared for. The beauty of Imphal remains undeniable, but beneath the decorations lies a broken reality that demands urgent attention, accountability, and compassion.