They call it a “cause,” but it is a symphony of irony orchestrated by those who promised us freedom. The tax beast awakens, not to liberate, but to shackle us with penalties disguised as patriotism. Our own people—yes, those who claim to fight for us—demand our money, not to build bridges of hope but to line their coffers with the weight of our struggles. Is this justice? Or just extortion dressed in rhetoric?
Freedom, the very word they weaponize, lies buried under the crimes they commit. They do not defend us; they punish us. Instead of shielding the oppressed, they beat, loot, and call it a “sacrifice for the greater good.”
Vigilantes of chaos, they are the crime-lords masquerading as saviors. Maybe it is time to give them the mantle of superheroes—not of justice, but of plunder. Let the police take a backseat while they terrorize our people in the name of liberation.
All you bring to the people is the echo of boots and the cold barrel of a gun pressed to our temples, calling it ‘peace.’ Such an honor to live under your shadow, oh noble fighters of freedom. Your idea of dialogue? ‘I know your face, and I will come to you.’ How truly inspiring it is to know that we are not forgotten—not as citizens, but as targets. Your way of making us feel ‘known’ has redefined what pride really is.
We, the people, have become unwilling dancers, moving to the music of our oppressors. How poetic, how tragic, that the enemies we fear are no longer across the borders but within the very heart of our struggle.
~ Subongtsungba Longkumer