Love in the time of civil disobedience: Irom Sharmila's prem kahani

By Lakshmi Chaudhry It has all the trappings of a Bollywood romance. Boy writes a letter to the girl who lives far, far away. Heart-felt missives are sent back and forth. As the correspondence blooms, so do their hearts. They belong to different worlds, separated by class, ethnicity, and nationality. Yet they are irretrievably, irredeemably in love. When he finally makes that long, arduous journey to meet his true love, her people will not allow him near. He is harassed, threatened, and yet he persists, going on a two-day fast until they relent. They meet, briefly, only to be cruelly separated again…

Maine pyar kiya, indeed, but with a twist. The heroine of this real-life melodrama is none other than Irom Chanu Sharmila , the 38-year old Manipuri activist who has been on a 12-year fast to protest the Armed Forces Special Powers Act. A woman who is being held in police custody and force-fed through a nose-tube.

This is love in the time of civil disobedience. And the man who has won her heart is the 48-year old Desmond Coutinho who wrote to her after reading Burning Bright, a book on the Manipuri resistance written by Deepti Priya Mehrotra. The rest is history. Her supporters, however, would prefer the affair become history, as well; merely an embarrassing footnote in her future biographies.

Their objections are many, and some are positively old-fashioned. “He is of Goan origin but a British citizen. That is why they are against the relationship,” Sharmila told The Telegraph . An unsuitable boy by any traditional standards, but more so for a woman who is living Manipuri legend. So determined are they to squelch this romance that Sharmila had to request the court to offer Coutinho protection:

Had it not been for the security, “Desmond could have been beaten to death,” she said. “They don’t like to appreciate our relationship. They are also very possessive, very mean, very one-sided,” she added without a trace of bitterness in her tone.

Viewed at a distance, the unfolding saga in Imphal is amusing, sweet, and a bit absurd. But easy as it is to dismiss those unromantic killjoys, few of us can imagine what Sharmila means to her people. What if Anna were far younger and and fell quite suddenly in love – and right in the midst of this Jan Lokpal battle. Most of his supporters would not be amused.

We rarely allow our leaders their humanity, more so if we’ve anointed them to sainthood. We don’t really want to know about Gandhiji’s overly affectionate letters to some German wrestler. And Nehru’s entanglement with Lady Mountbatten right on the eve of Independence is charming only in retrospect. What applies to men is doubly true for women who have to be chaster than Caesar’s wife even as mere politicians (See: Didi, Amma, Indira et al).

It’s hardly surprising that the Manipuris don’t want to read about Sharmila giggling like a “teenager in love”, the box of carefully preserved love letters by her bedside. Of course, they cringe when she lapses into bad poetry – “Without any shame, like a couple of birds, no permanent food but so free, so lovely” – and offers up  cheesy lines like, “He says he’s Lord Krishna, and I am his Radha,” as she coyly runs her fingers through her hair.

We are all fools in love. Sharmila is no different. And why not? The distant admiration of the many is a poor substitute for the erotic intimacy offered by the one. We all want love that is direct and personal, to be loved for who we are and not what we stand for. More so if we’ve been chained to a hospital bed for more than a decade. Romance offers the prospect of a future when the present is far too bleak. A future that promises happiness, marriage, perhaps even children.

Yet for all her lovesick yearnings, Sharmila remains willing to put the cause before her unruly heart. “I will marry after my demand is fulfilled,” she says, knowing that she may have to wait a very long time. Her supporters still complain, worried her romantic display may damage the greater cause. More paranoid folks accuse Coutinho of being a paid government agent, a love spy on a mission to seduce and destroy (Unlikely if only because secret agents don’t usually post loony rants on comment boards).

I say, let her love, as unwisely as she chooses. It is a universal human right, one granted to mere teenagers around the world. Why should Sharmila be denied? Surely a woman who has ceded all forms of sustenance is allowed this small crumb of happiness.