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Yaoshang thabal

By-Dr Nunglekpam Premi Devi
Independent Scholar

Feeling awesome, when in I join;
Feeling great, when in I participate;
Feeling good, when in I never missed the moment;
One factual truth I carry, confident;
Never delayed and never lazy,
Season! I knew it and I remembered that,
The breeze, the essence all in the air;
How chaotic! The feelings and the happiness;
How confusing! The eagerness within;
How passionate and tumultuous! Every single soul,
Leaves fallen apart, hairs flowing unbroken;
Come anew spurting, dazzling and colorful;
Red, blue, green and white
Yellow! O yellow, the season of yellow;
Come again showering love and fondness.

Something’s rhythmic, something’s servicing;
All in all, all in one performing;
Girls! Oh beautiful maiden girls,
Digging and spading, cultivating poles;
Begging and beseeching money;
Requesting and asking charity;
Inviting and alluring and winning all;
Uniting and compromising and cherishing hearts;
All for a thabal and all for a compromise;
Sailing wildly through the ocean of love;
Amidst the wilderness friends for a friend,
‘Color me red, color me not blue;
Color me your passions and

Ease me my emotions, Oh! The unholy,
Laughter and cherishing filled this smoky air.

Feeling awesome, when in I join;
Feeling great, when in I participate;
Feeling good, when in I never missed the moment;
How energetic! The moon lit night
Too shadowy as I emerged thrilling kak-kak-kak;
How lyrical when you merged?
With that green velvety blouse of mine;
Thabal! Oh thabal, yaosang thagi thabal
How graceful! The love hands swings folding,
To and fro, wide and open, Soft and greasy;
Beating those melancholic tunes,
Oh! The drums, those drum sounds,
Echoing hard and again, far and near;
Kicking through the air blushing,

Carry me in and carry me out,
All through the musical lines;
Swinging and swaying, jumping in and out;
Flapping in and out, High and low,
Thumping up and down, so-madly and wildly;
Dancing through the light all I could,
Wasting not a minute dancing,
Holding in my hand so tightly compromising;
Holding me nearer whispering and embracing;
Leave ‘him’ not; leave ‘him’ not unattended;
 Oh 9’oclock! The clock struck nine,
Hurry! Hurriedly I bade ‘him’ last good step dancing;
Alas! ‘His’ holding I released,
Too hard it hurts inside just the way it is.

Rinku Khumukcham

Rinku Khumukcham, Editor of Imphal Times has more than 15+ years in the field of Journalism. A seasoned editor, was a former editor of ISTV News. He resides in Keishamthong Elangbam Leikai, with his wife and parents.

More in this category: « The Rights of Women DEAR HAPPINESS »

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