Abstract:
Literature from India’s northeast brings out the varied experiences of the people of the region. A common feature of this writing is the vivid portrayal of several conflict zones which vary in nature from state to state. Broadly speaking, the major conflicts can be divided into two parts – the ones that took place during the colonial times and the ones after Indian independence. Even though this division may help researchers study the various conflicts in a systematic manner, nevertheless, one should be aware of the differences in experiences of people from region to region. Interesting to note is the position and status of women living in such conflict zones and the roles that they have played during such times.
This paper will explore the lived experiences of women of India’s northeast during troubled times as portrayed in literature. The research will employ a feminist reading of selected texts from Assam, Arunachal Pradesh, Manipur, Mizoram, and Nagaland, while analyzing the real scenario of the conflicts during the then time. The study will be based on Mitra Phukan’s The Collector’s Wife (2005), Temsula Ao’s These Hills Called Home (2006), Easterine Kire’s A Terrible Matriarchy (2007) and Mari (2010), Mamang Dai’s The Black Hill (2014), Malsawmi Jacob’s Zorami: A Redemption Song (2015) and Teresa Rehman’s The Mothers of Manipur (2017).
Key Words: India’s Northeast, conflict zone, insurgency, Feminism, war, trauma, violence
A common aspect of literature from India’s northeast is the vivid portrayal of various conflicts and the resultant bloodshed, deaths, loss of property, and constant anxiety in the minds of the people. These conflicts may be broadly divided into two sections for the ease of study – the pre-independence time period, and the ones that took place after the Indian independence. States like Assam, Manipur, Mizoram, and Nagaland, have had long histories of various conflicts and, therefore, it is no surprise that the authors from these regions have also portrayed the lived experiences of those people in their narratives. It is important, however, to note that the experiences in terms of struggles and conflicts during the colonial times vary from state to state and would therefore be wrong to assume that the entire history of conflicts during that period has been the same for every region. Similarly, the trajectories of conflict in the periods after the independence have also been varied. In this context, it is interesting to note that several contemporary authors have portrayed the role and status of women in these conflict zones. A feminist reading of such texts would enable us to explore the experiences of women in their own families as well as in the larger community and would thus, facilitate the understanding of women’s status during difficult times in various conflict zones. In this context, the study will be based on Mitra Phukan’s The Collector’s Wife (2005), Temsula Ao’s These Hills Called Home (2006), Easterine Kire’s A Terrible Matriarchy (2007) and Mari (2010), Mamang Dai’s The Black Hill (2014), Malsawmi Jacob’s Zorami: A Redemption Song (2015) and Teresa Rehman’s The Mothers of Manipur (2017).
The conflicts that we find mentioned in the literary texts of the region during the colonial times bring out the tension that had engulfed the people and had disrupted their day-to-day life. In Mamang Dai’s narrative, The Black Hill, set in the mid-nineteenth century, the author presents the Abor (Adi) and Mishmee tribes’ fear of the East India Company’s gradual inroads into the region. Amidst the parallel narratives of inter-tribal conflicts, the strife of the British with the local people, and the repeated attempts of Father Krick, a French missionary, to enter Tibet via the Abor and Mishmee hills, the readers cannot miss the trajectory of Gimur, an Abor girl. Gimur is not any ordinary tribal girl; she comes across as a very determined and strong-willed person all throughout the book. In the beginning of the book, Gimur’s character is described thus – “Gimur did everything that young girls in the village were expected to do, in fact she was better than most at household chores; but, as her mother always said, she was uncontrollable and daring, more like a boy, whistling and climbing trees and getting into scrapes.” (Dai 2) Judith Butler, in her widely acclaimed book, Gender Trouble: Feminism and Subversion of Identity (1990) states that gender is performative. The ideas of ‘masculinity’ and ‘femininity’ are bound by the set rules of the society on the performance of gender-related roles by both men and women. Highlighting the compulsion of gender roles as assigned by the society, Butler states – “Gender is the repeated stylization of the body, a set of repeated acts within a highly rigid regulatory frame that congeal over time to produce the appearance of substance, of a natural sort of a being…gender proves to be performance – that is, constituting the identity it is purported to be.” (33) In this similar context of gender performativity, we see that the Abor tribe, like most other tribes of the region, had strict rules concerning their ‘Abor pride’ and, therefore, they believed that “…an Abor girl should behave according to custom. Every girl is an asset to her family and a man taking her away in marriage must compensate her parents for depriving them of a daughter. This was the customary bride price called a-re gelik….Inter-tribe relationships were a betrayal to the community and girls marrying outsiders were spurned, useless like mustard seed scattered to the winds.” (Dai 45-46) But Gimur was not ready to succumb to the strict laws of her tribe against inter-tribal marriages; she falls in love and elopes with Kajinsha, a Mishmee chief. The duo undertakes an extremely dangerous journey, crossing steep mountains and rivers, and ultimately reach Kajinsha’s territory near the Tibetan border and settle down there. Kajinsha’s continuous conflicts with Lamet, another Mishmee chief, and Marpa, his Tibetan neighbour, take its toll on Gimur too. In an alien land, cut off from all human contact, Gimur works hard and tries to keep her family and home intact. The loss of one of her twin boys at birth and the physical defect of the other, suddenly make Gimur a silent and thoughtful woman. Her marital life is also at stake in such a conflict-ridden situation. She takes a bold step of leaving Kajinsha when she gets to know of his infidelity and undertakes a lone journey with her child back home. Gimur’s strength of character can be observed when she loses her child during the journey. Even though she feels momentarily that her life is over, she still continues with the journey and reaches her village. Her fiery spirit is noticed when she joins Kajinsha in trying to save Father Krick. Later, she surprises Chowsa and Lendem, when instead of sitting at home and grieving after Kajinsha is caught by the British and imprisoned in Dibrugarh jail, she is determined to take the risk of meeting him. Gimur’s life becomes topsy-turvy amidst various conflicts, but what makes her character worthwhile is her undaunting spirit till the end.
Whereas, Dai’s narrative focuses on the Adi and Mishmee tribes’ conflict with the British colonizers, Easterine Kire’s book, Mari, takes us on a journey during the Japanese invasion of the Naga hills in the year 1944. India was still under British domination and when the Japanese invaded the peaceful city of Kohima, the feud between the British army and the Japanese brought the entire region to a standstill. The seventeen-year-old Mari’s story is a tragic saga of the ravages of war and destruction. After repeated attempts, when the Japanese army ultimately becomes successful in invading Kohima and the neighbouring places, war breaks out causing the local Naga people to lose their homes and loved ones. Mari too loses her fiancé, Victor, a British soldier, in the war. Her plight along with several others in the jungles and open fields, trying to hide from the Japanese soldiers, is unimaginable. The acute shortage of food, lack of proper shelter, disruption of family, and the imminent danger of wild beasts and enemy soldiers take a toll on Mari’s health, but her spirit is indomitable. The war gets over and Mari’s family, along with several like them, get back to a deserted and ravaged Kohima, to settle down and start life anew. Mari recounts the tragic state of affairs in Kohima in the post-war period which gives the readers a pictorial view of the place. She notes –
None of us was ready for the terrible sight of the ravaged town. Kohima, dear, dear Kohima, had changed so much from the way we remembered it. Hardly any houses were left standing. The debris of war, bombed-out houses and shelters and empty bombshells littered the streets….we were not prepared for the dead bodies littering the streets….We couldn’t believe this was Kohima, this mess of human destruction. (Kire, Mari 93)
Mari’s tragedy does not end with getting back home. The ravages of the war are more severe on her life. Gender theorist, Chandra Talpade Mohanty, while probing into the problems of women in war-torn land, states that women are more distressed in conflict zones due to famine, enforced relocation and war. Mohanty emphasizes on how the past forms a background for the present in such scenarios and states – “Each of us carries around those growing up places, the institutions, a sort of backdrop, a stage set. So often we act out the present against the backdrop of the past, within a frame of perception that is so familiar, so safe that it is terrifying to risk changing it even when we know our perceptions are distorted, limited, constricted by that old view.” (59) In this context, we find that though the war had got over and Mari got back home, a part of her seems to have been lost in the bygone days. She gives birth to Victor’s child and while leading a lonely life, she comes across another British soldier, Dickie, with whom she has her second child. With India gaining independence from British rule, Dickie has to relocate to England and Mari is unable to accompany him. Even though Mari’s personal life seems doomed, her resilience and indomitable spirit can be noticed in her decision to get a proper education and earn her livelihood. This streak of her character, in a way, resonates with the character of Gimur in Dai’s narrative. Mari’s struggles are no doubt different from that of Gimur, but it is because of her strength of character that she could survive in a conflict zone and lead a normal life thereon.
While Gimur’s and Mari’s stories are recorded in the pre-independence period, we find several narratives of women’s struggles in conflict zones of India’s northeast regions in contemporary times. Temsula Ao’s These Hills Called Home and Easterine Kire’s A Terrible Matriarchy bring out the struggles of the Naga people during the Naga Struggle for Freedom. Temsula Ao’s collection of short stories, These Hills Called Home: Stories from a War Zone, projects how a whole community of people stood exposed to insane violence. The stories bring to light the period when the Nagas sought for their independence; decades of strife, guerrilla warfare, plundering and killing. In the process of this war for independence, countless young men were killed and several women were ravished. Several people were dispossessed of their land and belongings. The stories bring back alive a tragedy that can never be forgotten by those who have suffered the agony.
Among all the violence and insanity, the stories mainly revolve around women, who in any case, bear the brunt of oppression, at dual levels – at the hands of the insurgents as well as the military forces. In the most poignant of all the stories, “The Last Song”, we come across Apenyo, a young Naga woman, who is the lead singer in the village church choir. The day the newly renovated church of the village is supposed to be inaugurated, the Indian soldiers raid the village and set fire to the church, thereby causing mass destruction and insane killing of innocent villagers. Apenyo falls into the hands of an army officer and is raped mercilessly and killed inside the church. But till her breath lasted, neither rape nor death could take away the song from her lips. Her mother also meets with a similar fate while saving her daughter. Eventually, their story becomes an eerie folktale, a legend in itself, that village storytellers narrate to their tribe. Manjeet Baruah highlights that “…experience of patriarchal subordination need not necessarily be an internal social phenomenon. Patriarchal subordination can also be through cross politico-cultural interactions…” He also deals with certain common themes and issues in contemporary northeast writings by women and gives importance to the “powerful use of women’s body as the site of operation of society.” This idea finds expression in the story of Apenyo and her mother and several such women who had met with similar fate. The purpose of their rapes cannot be regarded as only the fulfillment of sexual pleasures of their tormentors, but more so the subjugation of the victims’ spirit, a negation of the women’s identity.
Temsula Ao’s stories also portray several strong and determined women who make a mark for themselves in the family, community, and larger society. In the story, “The Jungle Major'', we come across the young and beautiful wife of Punaba, an ugly, unassuming Ao-Naga man, who joins the Naga underground resistance. Khatila, his wife, exploits the physical ugliness of her husband to outwit the army and save him from their clutches. Her intelligence gives her a prominent position in her community even after the war is over and her husband is not in the least ashamed to recall in front of others how his life was saved due to her. Such an important position of the Naga woman is also portrayed in “The Curfew Man”, a story of a government informant named Satemba, whose wife earns a living to support the family and help out her husband during adverse times. Another determined woman emerges in the form of Imnala in the story “The Night ''. She is an unmarried mother, who squares up to the village council where she is accused of having a relationship with a married man. She knows that she has to fight her own battle so that she need not bear the stigma of mothering a ‘fatherless’ child. It is her decision to be strong in the face of all adversities that helps her to make a mark for herself in her community and get recognition for her child born out of wedlock. The strength and public presence of the women from India’s northeast region is beautifully portrayed by Sriram Ananathanarayan:
On a cramped overnight train ride from Gossaigaon back to Guwahati, the compartment I was precariously standing in was overflowing with large gunny sacks filled with vegetables. They belonged to a group of six middle-aged women, all with weathered feet, beautiful dark skin, strong arms, red paan-stained teeth and wearing worn-out, tattered sarees….They sat with the poise and strength of daily struggle…they bought veggies from across state lines in West Bengal and sold them at the markets for a small profit….I was witnessing, first hand, the gritty entrepreneurial spirit of the working poor that characterized their will to survive in extreme hardship.
Temsula Ao’s stories focus on the different challenges for the women in the form of patriarchy and male oppression in a conflict zone, but nevertheless, highlight their strength and resilience amidst tremendous pressure and yet gaining grounds time and again.
The Naga women’s condition during the Naga people’s struggle for an independent Nagaland is portrayed beautifully in Easterine Kire’s narrative, A Terrible Matriarchy. It is the coming-of-age story of a young Angami girl, Dielieno (Lieno), and her confrontation with the traditional Angami society to which she belongs. Greatly inspired by the author’s own life and mostly based on real people, the book portrays the patriarchal set-up of the society, albeit amidst many changes. The Angami society is essentially patriarchal and patrilineal and the same is visible in the society’s approach towards girl education, inheritance of property, marriages and divorces, and their way of life. In the preface, Kire states, “(w)hile the visible structure of the novel is patriarchal and seems focused on bringing out the misuse of the patriarchal system, the less visible under-structure is matriarchy and how it abuses the patriarchal structure resulting in gender abuse within the same gender.” (Kire, Matriarchy ix) This statement more or less summarizes the very base of Kire’s book. Kire also highlights the traditional view versus the modern one in her reflection of the Angami society’s approach towards education for girls. Lieno is shown to be growing up at a time when the importance of education for Angami girls was still being debated and not prioritized. Grandmother Vibano has very clear ideas about the fact that girls do not need education as it does not help them in any way to attain their most important goal, that of becoming a good Naga wife and mother. She states, “In our day…girls did not go to school. We stayed at home and learned all the fieldwork as well. That way one never has a problem with girl-children. They will always be busy at some work or other, too busy to get into trouble.” (Kire, Matriarchy 22) The Angami men’s domination in the society is further showcased in the story through the problems women incur due to men’s alcoholism and the resultant domestic violence. Lieno’s brother Vini and his friends represent the Angami youth who are drawn towards alcoholism at a very tender age to overcome various existing problems peculiar to the Naga situation. Many Naga men take to drinking to suppress their helplessness and anger against their existing social conditions. As Kire remarks in the preface to the book, this problem portrayed in the story is drawn from her real-life experiences. Quoting various reasons for this social problem, she says, “After the 1950s, frustration over the political suppression of Naga rights by the Indian government led many men to abuse alcohol. Unemployment added to the frustration which many tried to deaden with drink. Alcoholism has other causes in the Naga situation, yet all are interrelated to the political climate of the state and the increasing sense of social and economic impotence.” (Kire, Matriarchy viii) Kire touches upon this issue through Vini’s drunken outburst against the Army and the fake encounters: “Do you want to know why I drink? Why do all of us drink and brawl? It’s because life here in Kohima is so meaningless….Do you know how frustrating it is to be a Naga and live with the fear of being shot all the time? Do you know what it does to your insides when you hear about the people tortured and killed by the army and you can’t do anything about it?” (Kire, Matriarchy 226) The drinking houses by the side of the village road become terrifying places for young girls as well as married women who not only have to face the drunken men and their tantrums every night but also go through lots of trouble in crossing these bars while on the way to buy things from nearby shops. Kire’s narrative, thus, brings out the sad state of affairs for the Naga women in the 1950s, a time period when neither it was easy for them to negotiate their lives amidst the external political conflicts of the state, nor the internal struggles that they had to undergo with their own families and larger community.
Similar to the portrayal of the Naga insurgency movement and its effect on the people of the region by Temsula Ao and Easterine Kire, we find Malsawmi Jacob taking the most traumatic period in Mizo history, the insurgency years of the 1960s, to tell the story of a young girl, Zorami. In her novel, Zorami: A Redemption Song, Jacob portrays the coming of age of Zorami at a time when political unrest and struggle for independence gains momentum in the state and breaks out to a devastating effect. Zorami’s mind is tainted by her childhood experience of a rape by an Indian army man which not only takes away the joys of her early life but has a deep impact on her marital relationship too. Her experiences and mental turmoil are vividly portrayed by the author – “As dusk fell, she was seized with terror and broke out in cold sweat. She sat by the fireplace, her head buried in her knees, and trembled violently. Her mother tried to soothe her, but only succeeded in making her cry uncontrollably. As time passed, the wounds on her body healed, leaving scars. But her wounded psyche festered.” (Jacob 197) Cathy Caruth in her book, Unclaimed Experience: Trauma Narrative and History (1996) emphasizes on the repercussions of traumatic experiences on people’s lives. The repeated reminiscences of a particular traumatic event can be re-traumatizing for the victim/ survivor. Caruth rightly says that “the repetition of the traumatic experience in the flashbacks can be itself re-traumatizing; if not life-threatening…and this would also seem to explain the high suicide rate of survivor.” (126) Jacob portrays how the atrocities of the army men had become a common thing in those days. While searching for the underground army, Indian army men like Major Kohli, took away the women of the house, raped them and “kept on devouring one prey after another, breaking the hearts of many parents.” (Jacob 131) It was impossible for the local people to get any justice as “the state was under the Armed Forces Special Powers Act since it was declared a disturbed area. The Indian army could do as they pleased; no one could stop them as they had the sanction of the highest authority in the country.” (Jacob 131) Women like Zorami’s fate were sealed in such troubled times. Moreover, the patriarchal Mizo society was not very kind to the women who had no say in any matter of the family and society and were regarded as “damaged goods” (Jacob 62) when ill-fate befell them. Zorami’s story, therefore, highlights the sad fate of women in conflict-ridden regions while reflecting the socio-political situation of her people, land, and culture.
Taking the cue from real-life political unrests and militancy in the state of Assam, Mitra Phukan in her book, The Collector’s Wife, shows how in the heightened political climate of the region, the personal, the familial, and the social relationships are disrupted too. Phukan’s protagonist, Rukmini Bezboruah, the wife of the District Collector, is caught in the strain of this political turmoil affecting her private life as much as the lives of every resident of the small town of Parbatpuri. The book courses through the kidnappings, extortion, and political instability which characterize life in Parbatpuri and the inexorable impact of such a strained environment on the personal lives. The place is notoriously famous for terrorist activities. Focusing primarily on Rukmini and her life amidst the disturbing locale, the novelist showcases her plight, being cut off from her immediate family and forced to live in a desolate place heightened by terrorist activity. Phukan’s story is of course a personal tale, but its poignancy is achieved by placing Rukmini’s ups and downs amidst the saga of political disturbances in the town. The presence of terrorism in Parbatpuri seems to be the only unifying element in the lives of the people living there. The kidnappings by the militant group, MOFEH, has created a disturbance so very profound in the small town, that the everyday lives of Parbatpuri residents stand still amidst such tension and anxieties. It is the violence and terrorism in the town which are the only topics of discussion everywhere. Highlighting the inter-relation between violence and North-East literature, Dr. Ananya S. Guha says, “Much of the discussion today in the literature of North East India focuses on violence as a thematic interest. The literature of North East India which has gained a lot of ascendancy in the last three decades and especially in the last one and a half decades has shown a glut of interest in the remaining parts of the country due to this ‘new’ ontology and cult of violence.” Phukan has portrayed the aftermath of the Assam students’ agitation of the 1970s and 1980s which has in the present set-up grown into a full-blown insurgent movement. Rukmini’s students are involved in protesting on the issue of illegal migration from across the border and what starts as an innocent rally becomes a full-fledged violent revolt, resulting in many people being injured including innocent ones like Rukmini. Living in her hilltop bungalow, it seems that the DC’s wife is untouched by all that happens in the valley to the common folks. But the truth lies in the fact that Rukmini’s life is greatly affected by the fear and uncertainty that grapples the town with the non-stop kidnappings and political disturbances. The violent insurgency that grips Parbatpuri forms the backdrop of the novel and Rukmini’s world is invaded by this ever-present threat.
Phukan’s fictional world is severely strained and as the novel progresses, we realize the breaking down of any sense of harmony in the personal life of the protagonist as well as the political situation of the town. The open attack on the SP in a restaurant and his death cast a sense of helplessness in the minds of every resident. It seems to be the final proof of the total envelopment of terrorism in the town where even the highest in the law and order cannot escape the clutches of violence and threat. If the attack on the SP shows the organized and planned terrorist activities with the purpose of causing fear in the minds of common people and the government, the kidnapping of innocent people like Manoj, a mere sales executive, portray the meaninglessness of such terror. Much like the political situation of the town, Rukmini’s life too undergoes great turmoil and collapses ultimately. Her shocking discovery of her husband’s relationship with her colleague and the only friend that she had in Parbatpuri comes at a time when her marital life is already going downhill. More shocking than this discovery is the knowledge of her pregnancy, the result of a one-night stand with Manoj. Rukmini’s mind goes through fleeting emotions, at crossroads with two men in her life – one, her husband with whom she had lived for ten long years and yet not developed a satisfactory relationship, and the other, Manoj, whom she barely knew but shared a great companionship. The final collapse of the personal and the political in Phukan’s book comes with the unfortunate deaths of Manoj and Siddharth in the terrorist confrontation with the police. The final denouement is indeed horrifying but it seems to be the only possible and authentic ending to such an impossible situation, where the personal is so intricately interwoven with the political.
Various political unrests mark the history of all the states of India’s northeast. In a more contemporary time-period, journalist Teresa Rehman in her book, The Mothers of Manipur, tells the story of 15th July 2004, a momentous day in the life of Manipur. In a historical moment, twelve women, all in their sixties and seventies, position themselves in front of the gates of the Kangla Fort in Imphal, which was the headquarters of the Assam Rifles, a unit of the Indian army, and strip themselves naked. The soldiers watch aghast as the imas, the mothers of Manipur, protest the custodial rape and murder of a thirty-two-year-old woman, Thangjam Manorama, suspected of being a militant, by the army. These women hold banners and shout, ‘Indian Army Rape Us’, ‘Take Our Flesh’. The courage and resistance of these women amidst the conflict-torn Manipur takes the entire world in a storm. The incident is not a sudden one, but an accurately planned activity. Pamela Philipose in the introduction of the book reminds the grit and determination of the mothers –
“Despite palpitations of the heart, fits of dizziness, insomnia, failing eyesight, the planning for that action had to be meticulous: inner garments had to be removed leaving only the enaphi and phanek (the upper and lower garment) to make the act of stripping swiffer, jewellery needed to be tied in little bundles and kept in safe custody and, above all, utmost secrecy had to be maintained with not even close family members being informed in order to ensure that the authorities didn’t get wind of their plans.” (Rehman xvii)
The presence of women in various conflict-torn regions of India’s northeast have always brought forth their strength of character and their unique status amidst the saga of violence and bloodshed. But nothing seems to equate with the protest in front of the Kangla Fort almost two decades back by a dozen commonplace Manipuri women, which till date serves as the most courageous response by women in response to atrocities in a conflict-ridden state.
This study was undertaken to explore the conditions of women in various conflict zones with particular reference to India’s northeast as we find portrayed in literary texts. Amidst the harsh realities of terrorism, insurgency, and political unrests, what stands out in all the literary portrayals of women is their fiery spirit and determination to overcome the negative situation in their lives. Another unique feature of these survival stories in conflict zones is the visibility of the role of the community during different phases of trauma. Judith Herman states – “Traumatic events destroy the sustaining bonds between individual and community. Those who have survived learn that their sense of self, of worth, of humanity, depends upon a feeling of connection with others. The solidarity of a group provides the strongest protection against terror and despair, and the strongest antidote to traumatic experience.” (156) The study, therefore, highlights women’s lived experiences during various conflicts in India’s northeast which have been extremely challenging. Nevertheless, in most of the cases, they rise above the conflicts and make an attempt to restructure their lives, even in extreme conditions. In a conflict-ridden zone, survival becomes the primary concern and these women showcase their attempts to embrace various coping mechanisms to negotiate with life.
Works Cited and referred:
- Ananthanarayan, Sriram. “Strength and Public Presence of Women in Northeast India''. Posted on May 26, 2008. Web accessed. March 8, 2010.
- Ao, Temsula. These Hills Called Home: Stories From A War Zone. Zubaan & Penguin, 2006.
- Baruah, Manjeet. “Literature in Northeast India: An Overview”. Web accessed. March 8, 2010.
- Butler, Judith. Gender Trouble: Feminism and the Subversion of Identity. Routledge, 1990.
- Caruth, Cathy. Unclaimed Experience: Trauma Narrative and History. The Johns Hopkins UP, 1996.
- Dai, Mamang. The Black Hill. Aleph Book Company, 2014.
- Dutta Chowdhury, Payel. “Literary Representation of Women in the Angami Society: A Study of Easterine Kire’s A Terrible Matriarchy”. Pune Research Journal. Vol1, Issue 3, Nov-Dec 2015, pp. 1-6.
- ----. “The Personal and the Political: The North-East Indian Scenario in Mitra Phukan’s The Collector’s Wife”. Research Scholar Journal. Vol 4, Issue 1, Feb 2016, pp. 349-352.
- Guha, Dr. Ananya S. “Violence in Literature of North-East India”. Web accessed. January 4, 2016.
- Herman, Judith L. Trauma and Recovery: The Aftermath of Violence – From Domestic Abuse to Political Terror. Basic Books, 2019.
- Jacob, Malsawmi. Zorami: A Redemption Song. Morph Books, 2015.
- Kire, Easterine. A Terribly Matriarchy. Zubaan, 2007.
- Mohanty, Chandra Talpade. Feminism without Borders: Decolonizing Theory, Practicing Solidarity. Duke UP, 2003.
- Phukan, Mitra. The Collector’s Wife. Zubaan & Penguin, 2005.
- Rehman, Teresa. The Mothers of Manipur. Zubaan, 2017.