Leichan Ayekpam
Growing up in Manipur, my childhood was steeped in the rich traditions and vibrant rituals of Manipuri Hinduism. Our festivals were a blend of joy, spirituality, and community, with each celebration deeply rooted in our unique cultural heritage. The serene temples, the rhythmic chants (Sankirtana), and the age-old customs made me proud of my identity. Yet, as I grew older and ventured beyond the borders of my home state, I encountered a stark reality that shattered my sense of belonging and pride.
Manipur has been an integral part of India since 1948, yet the ignorance about our region and its people is staggering. When I moved to Delhi for my higher studies, I was full of hope and excitement. I believed that my Hindu faith would be a bond that connected me with millions across the country. However, the mainland Indian Hindus did not see us, Northeastern Hindus, as one of their own. Their reactions ranged from surprise to outright hostility. They would often mock my appearance, calling me “chinki,” and dismiss my faith as a cheap imitation. The most hurtful comment came from a fellow Hindu who sneered, “Stop making a Chinese copy of our gods.” These words cut deep, as they invalidated my entire spiritual upbringing.
One of the most painful experiences occurred when my father and I visited a prominent temple in Delhi. We hoped to seek blessings and connect with fellow devotees. Instead, we were met with disdain and were eventually kicked out. The reason? Our appearance. We were labeled as outsiders, as “fake Hindus.” The experience was not just humiliating; it was a painful reminder that in their eyes, we would always be inferior.
Yes, Manipuri Hinduism is profoundly different from the Hinduism practiced in mainland India. Our rituals, deities, and cultural expressions have evolved independently, influenced by our distinct history, partly by Sanamahism and geographical isolation. This uniqueness, instead of being celebrated, often becomes a point of contention. The Rashtriya Swayamsevak Sangh (RSS) and other right-wing groups have tried to homogenize the diverse Hindu practices of the Northeast, pushing an agenda that seeks to erase our cultural identity. They want to make the whole Northeast uniformly Hindu, but when we, the “Mongoloid Hindus,” venture into their territories, they treat us as inferior beings, not deserving respect.
My experiences were not isolated. My boyfriend, a Sonowal Kachari from Assam, faced similar discrimination. During a visit to a temple in Lucknow, he was spat on and insulted. These incidents are not mere anecdotes but reflect a systemic prejudice that permeates through the Indian heartland. Despite being devout Hindus for most of our lives, the constant rejection and humiliation made us question our faith and our place in the larger Hindu community. This is true for almost every hindu northeasterner I have interacted with. The RSS would come to the Northeast to bring people and tribal religions under the hindu faith, but will discriminate against us when we visit mainland Indian temples.
It is heartbreaking to realize that despite our shared faith, we are seen as outsiders. Our prayers, our devotion, our reverence for the deities mean nothing when our appearance and origins mark us as different. This rejection is not just about faith; it is an assault on our very identity. It is a reminder that no matter how deeply we believe, we will never be accepted as true Hindus in the eyes of mainland India.
Adding to our sense of alienation is the political neglect by the Bharatiya Janata Party (BJP) and Prime Minister Narendra Modi. Despite the escalating violence and turmoil in Manipur, there has been a deafening silence from the central government. Modi, who frequently visits states to offer condolences and promises of support, has never set foot in Manipur during times of crisis. This neglect further deepens our sense of abandonment and reinforces the notion that we are not valued as equal citizens of this country.
Manipur is burning. The conflict has torn apart families, destroyed homes, and claimed lives on both sides- be it Kuki or Meitei. Yet, the cries of our people go unheard. The silence from the central government is not just a political statement; it is a reflection of the deep-seated apathy towards the Northeast. It is a painful reminder that in the grand narrative of India, our stories, our struggles, and our lives are often deemed insignificant.
The cumulative weight of these experiences has led me to a profound transformation. The faith that once brought me solace and a sense of identity has now become a source of pain and disillusionment. I have turned agnostic, finding it difficult to reconcile with a religion whose followers see us as outsiders. It is not the core teachings of Hinduism that I reject, but the hypocrisy and prejudice of its practitioners.
I remember the days when I would eagerly participate in religious ceremonies, feeling a deep connection to the divine. Now, those memories are tinged with bitterness. How can I continue to hold on to a faith that has been used as a weapon against me? How can I find solace in prayers that are dismissed and mocked by those who should be my spiritual brethren?
As the flames of conflict rage on in Manipur, I cannot help but plead for attention and compassion. Our state has been part of India since 1948, yet our struggles are often overlooked. The ignorance about our region, our culture, and our people is a wound that festers. We are not just a footnote in the story of India; we are an integral part of its tapestry.
The ongoing violence in Manipur is not just a regional issue; it is a national tragedy. The bloodshed, the displacement, the suffering of our people should stir the conscience of every Indian. It is time for the central government to acknowledge our pain, to offer support, and to work towards a lasting peace. It is time for the people of India to recognize us as their own, to embrace our differences, and to stand with us in solidarity.
I wish I wasn’t born a Hindu—not because of the religion itself, but because of the discrimination and rejection I faced from those who claim to be its true adherents. My story, and that of many others from the Northeast, is a testament to the deep-seated prejudices that persist in Indian society. It is a call for introspection and a plea for a more inclusive and compassionate understanding of faith and identity.
Our faith, our culture, our identity are all precious to us. We seek not just acceptance but respect and recognition. We are part of India, and we deserve to be heard. It is time for change, time for healing, and time for a united India that celebrates its diversity and stands together against prejudice and hate.
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Leichan Ayekpam is the President of the Manipur Wesean Student Association, the state wing of the Wesean Student Federation. A political science student, Leichan completed her education at St. Anthony’s School and is a proud Meitei. In addition to her academic pursuits, she is passionate about cycling and trekking. Through her role and personal experiences, Leichan seeks to shed light on the unique challenges faced by the people of Manipur and advocate for greater understanding and support.
