Because public displays of affection are heavily frowned upon in traditional Manipuri society (even holding hands in the market can draw stares), romance must exist in the micro-gestures.
The progressive romantic hero of Manipur is the one who breaks the cycle. He does not abandon tradition, but he rewrites it. He teaches his mother how to praise his wife’s cooking instead of critiquing it. He takes his wife to the Ema Keithel (mother's market—the only all-women run market in the world) and holds her hand proudly, ignoring the scandalized gasps of the old vendors. Manipuri romantic storylines are rarely light-hearted. The state has been plagued by decades of ethnic tension, bandhs (strikes), and curfews. For a newly married couple, a curfew is a curse and a blessing. A blessing because they are locked inside together; a curse because they cannot access medicine or groceries.
But the romance survives. It survives in the Phanek he buys from the roadside stall because he noticed the old one was tearing. It survives in the Kangsoi (vegetable stew) she saves for him in the fridge even though the family said to throw it out.
In a successful Manipuri relationship, the "I love you" is not spoken. It is implied when he insists on bathing her feet with cold water after she returns from the market. It is implied when she wakes up fifteen minutes earlier to make his favorite Singju (spicy salad) even though the entire house expects her to make rice. Conflict and Resolution: The Role of the Kumhei (Society) No Manipuri romantic storyline is complete without the antagonist—the Kumhei (neighborhood/community). In the tightly-knit Leikais of Imphal Valley, everyone knows everyone’s business. A newlywed couple rarely fights in private, because there is no private space. Walls are thin; courtyards are shared.
