Inspired by the Naga story, poetry by Dr. Suryaraju Mattimalla 

The Battle of Hoshepu

Through the wild Nagaland hills with their whispering Old,

Under the kite blue sky above, In Hoshepu sacred fold.

A growl, a blaze of light started up distant, a shadow.

The Battle of Hoshepu which is the testament of unrelenting battle.

Since the beginning of September in the fiftieth year it has been a chapter turning,

When Naga braves, with dauntless dart, with set of coming doom To-filled the deadly aim,

and chief of these which were the general of the fire and of pride, called Kaito Sukhai.

And leader firm and hopeful, Watched over him.

A handful in number, less in armament, but strong in determination of purpose,

And the Naga warriors, determined men, would comply not with their stand.

tide Like iron, they fought against the mountain wind,

The freedom gasping in the flames of the dream in their eyes.

The army that is led by General Kochar M.C., is the Indian one.

Going through with guns and might, as a way of drying the cry,

But the spirit of the Nagas, undefeated, rushed forward past the demon,

Poisonous to pay, everybody be it so.

There were five valiant Naga and their names are forever.

They fell in the fight, and made the sublime sacrifice,

Even as hundreds of the troops on the opposite side were made to pay with their lives,

A terrible defeat, but a victory of martyrdom.

The soil of Hoshepu was very witnessed of the flame of resilience,

Through manly daring more than frailty takes away,

A fire that shot the Naga war afresh,

Camus urge to follow, a yell, a shout.

The hard way Scholastic Victory, Bled and scarred, was A seed-

A hereditation that perseverance might succeed,

It encouraged the young generation to rise and revolt,

To strike, to get their claim.

Out of that bloody conflict came a movement,

A hope that bore the struggle, came by.

On either side of dales down and heights up,

The Naga dream refused to die.

It marked an arrival-not a boycott anymore in disappearing far,

But a sign of rebellion, of undaunting faith-

Was so descended into a flea-bite!

Might cut a swath to independence.

Angels heard the pressure of the struggle in many generations,

An anamnesis of sacrifices and inseparables-

Of a wish to be self-governing, to subjectness demand,

A heritage fashioned in the picture frame of history.

Hero of the struggle was Kaito Sukhai.

His down to earth and shining leadership,

A sign of rebellion, strength, and faith,

To assist A Nagi spirit to locate its extent.

Hoshepu, to his ground, wet with the song of glory,

Calls us all to remember how the manly ones are allele.

to Abolitionists, to any who will fight,

They must make their own fate, to respond to the call.

Below the mountains in the expansive sky.

Naga warriors were not going to die,

and so great a testament was that they must fight to be granted freedom.

A witness that no persecutor can frighten.

So, we just forget the heroes and the cause,

That boldness that smashed unjust laws,

The struggle that testified such force of resistance.

The presence of Hoshepu in the immortal darkness.

In their bloodshed a life was born,

A hope of shining way out beyond the dawn,

And an epic of resistance, ferocious and loyal,

Composed in the color of the Nagaland mountains.

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The Battle of Satakha

In the dawn’s first whisper, where shadows still linger,
The land of Nagas awakens, a silent, fiery singer.
Beneath the azure sky, where hopes ignite like flame,
A village stands resolute, bearing freedom’s sacred name.

The Battle of Satakha-a storm in the earth’s core-
A symphony of courage, a legend to adore.
March 24th, etched in time, as history’s heartbeat,
Where brave hearts converged, unbowed, unbeat.

Under the banner of love for Motherland’s grace,
The Nagas rose, defying the mighty, defying space.
Fifteen villages, united in a sacred vow,
A mass movement rising-fierce, fearless, now.

General Kaito Sukhai, a beacon in the night,
Led the charge with valor, igniting the fight.
The Assam Police came with iron and fire,
But the Nagas’ spirit soared ever higher.

The land became a battlefield, a canvas of tears,
Where echoes of drums mingled with hopes and fears.
Seventy-nine captives, bound by dreams of dawn,
Guns and ammunition-victories drawn.

A record shattered, a mountain moved,
A testament to a people fiercely proved-
That love for freedom is a sacred decree,
A flame that no tyranny can ever see.

The victory, a spark in the dark, a rising sun,
Breathed life into the struggle-no longer undone.
The blood and sweat, the silent cries-
Fuel for the stars in the Naga skies.

But victory’s shadow cast a heavier toll,
As violence spilled, as lives paid the toll.
Reinforcements came with brutality’s roar,
Yet hope remained, unbroken, at the core.

The battle’s ripple-a wave on history’s shore-
Ignited the fire for sovereignty’s call, evermore.
The people’s spirit, a mountain unyielding,
In the heart of Nagas, forever shielded.

For in Satakha’s soil, a seed was sown-
Of resilience, of dreams, of a land their own.
A testament carved in time’s eternal page,
That love for freedom transcends age and cage.

So let the winds carry the story far-
Of Satakha’s brave, shining star.
A symbol of courage, a hymn of the free,
Echoing through eternity-forever to be.

In every heartbeat, in every prayer,
Lies the spirit of Nagas-bold, rare.
A battle fought with hope and fire,
A testament to the strength of desire.

For freedom is a song that never dies,
Resounding beneath the endless skies.
And in the heart of Satakha’s land,
Lingers the dream of a sovereign stand.

(The writer is an Indian poet, human rights scholar, vegan, and free-speech advocate from Switzerland)

Copyright ©️ Suryaraju Mattimalla 2025