Whenever Kargil comes around, I remember how my grandmother would fold her *khudei* tight and say nothing—just listen to the radio crackle with names. A few years ago, one of my students brought a tiny drawing of a soldier standing beside a *phou* field, and I thought, we never hear about the Meitei boys who went up there, do we? The big ceremonies are far away, and the families here just get

Heard the girls in my club reading a tale of Thamal and the tiger who learned to box the village goats. In the Loktak fringe villages, the women know the weight of an oar better than any gym rep. I’ve seen the data from the Sports Authority – our boxers from Manipur win on technique, not reach. That ring is a khudei you tie tight every day, not something you buy fancy. Let the slumlords and policy men argue; I’ll bet on the girl who carries her own rice phou for practice.