Reading Literature from India’s Northeast as Peace Literature

Muse India: a literary journal - Issue 92 (Jul-Aug 2020)

The projection of the Northeastern region as a “conflict zone” is deeply planted in the minds of most Indians that it has become quite difficult to imagine otherwise. Besides this, there is also the other image that captivates their imagination – an exotic place – almost mystical to them that they like to imagine it, as a ‘land lost in time’! An ordinary scene and everyday mundane situation doesn’t seem to permeate the minds of many. Whenever I get opportunities, especially to address young minds, I have stated categorically that unless we imagine the region beyond the images of “conflict” and “exotic”, one would not see the real Northeast. It is this twin effect that has unfortunately done more damage to the image of the region. Somehow, despite several pleas against such projections, nothing substantial has changed. It is this much obsessed issue of conflict in the region that becomes “newsworthy” to the “mainstream” media.

Moreover, it is with the same breath that even literature originating from the region has been branded as “conflict literature”, as if the writer from the Northeast does not know how to write any other subject or genre. Yes, they do write about their own experiences of conflict and violence because many have gone through some terrible times in the recent past. But the same is also true of many other writers from different regions in the country or the world. We live in a broken world with broken people, so what more can we expect than to read and write about the lived reality. It is time, however, that we move beyond the boxes that define and limit creativity. I would like to suggest that we re-imagine the region through literature, and hereby, propose to redefine the writings from the region as “peace literature” because many of these works are so much about hope and the desire to move on from the broken realities of the present.

The idea of peace literature, as Antony Adolf argues, should “evoke empathy” upon realising the complexities and actualities of life, while at the same time possess universal appeal (13). Niall Munro also postulates, “A literature of peace must challenge. However recent the conflict, it must insist on its role in the safeguarding of memory and commemoration and it must highlight the need for citizens to acknowledge personal responsibility for their actions” (2016).

A glance at the writings from the Northeast will draw the reader to the rich imagination that is fed by a long tradition of storytelling. Within the larger themes, a close reading would also enable one to see the complexities of social and political realities, whereby the reader could also empathize with the narratives that are brought alive. Just as social and political peace is desired within the context of conflict or violence, the literature of peace offers hope of a better future without antagonism.

This idea can be traced in Easterine Kire’s Bitter Wormwood (2011) which gives a historical account of the Naga political struggle over the last six decades. Tracing the life of a person named Mose (short for Moselie) from his birth in 1937 to his fatal death in 2007; the novel gives us a glimpse of what it meant to live through one of the longest conflicts in modern history. But the author neither indulges in self-pitying nor laments the plight her people are forced to undergo. Instead of the much-hyped Indo-Naga conflict, forgiveness is the underlying theme of the novel. It focuses on healing to the political abrasions caused by enmity and looks forward to the future with hope and peace.

As a believer in her Christian doctrine of forgiveness, Easterine Kire firmly holds that it is this virtue that can only lead the way forward in the relationship between Indians and Nagas. This perspective should appeal more to the Nagas who are largely Christian and forgiveness is an essential virtue to reach God. In one of the poignant moments in the narrative, she demonstrates this principle when Mose’s grandson and his friend (grandson of a retired Indian army officer who was posted in Nagaland in the turbulent periods) learn about each other better and discover a more humane way to end misunderstanding. They thereby see life beyond conflict. Talking about how this change of perspective came along, she states:

As a believer in her Christian doctrine of forgiveness, Easterine Kire firmly holds that it is this virtue that can only lead the way forward in the relationship between Indians and Nagas. This perspective should appeal more to the Nagas who are largely Christian and forgiveness is an essential virtue to reach God. In one of the poignant moments in the narrative, she demonstrates this principle when Mose’s grandson and his friend (grandson of a retired Indian army officer who was posted in Nagaland in the turbulent periods) learn about each other better and discover a more humane way to end misunderstanding. They thereby see life beyond conflict. Talking about how this change of perspective came along, she states:

I began to understand very clearly that the problems did not lie in laws and government policies alone, but the problems of the Northeast, and all human problems for that matter, had their origins in human sources. Thereby, the solutions could come only through human solutions. I know many say this is an idealist view to take, but the fact that the laws of the land have been made by humans at some stage in history and therefore, can be undone by humans. I have addressed this in my book, Bitter Wormwood where the grandson of the protagonist and his best friend, who is the grandson of an Indian soldier, discuss the concept of deconstructing history to rescue the present. Their friendship demonstrates that when people come together, they learn to understand each other, and this human understanding can be the biggest stepping stone to a future without conflict. [emphasis added] (2014).

This concept of “deconstructing history to rescue the present” is an apt idea to understand that the conflict of the past should not continue to dictate the present as well as a vision of the future. Unfortunately, this has been a difficult step to tread upon. What is more daunting is the fact that the prolonged projection of conflict in the region has resulted in the internalization of a victimhood mindset in the people. Easterine deals with this issue when she aserts, “The trouble with us Nagas is that we have allowed the conflict to define us for too long. It has overtaken our lives so much that we have been colonized by it and its demands on us” (236). This truth is also applicable to the other communities of the region – that there is a sense of being colonised by a conflict mentality. Perhaps, to some extent, the fact of having lived through conflicting times has made many to be defined by conflict. But allowing conflict to define our lives is also to let the past have a grip on us to a point of crippling our present. The way to overcome this is to let go of the bitterness of the past by adopting the attitude of forgiveness to heal the souls of the people.

Added to that is the metaphor of “bitter wormwood” in the novel, which has also been adopted for the title of the book. The herb which has long been traditionally valued for its medicinal components and also believed by the people to keep bad spirits away, stands for the possibility of healing the wounds of the past. Perhaps, the novel appeals to the larger Indian population to understand the people of the Northeast and its multiple problems. Often, the rest of the country sits back at a safe distance and comment on the happenings in the Northeast, but that does not really help build relationships. But a mutual understanding and honest effort to connect, like the two friends in the novel, would do a good deal in respecting each other’s culture and past. This is the challenge for the reader, which Munro talks about. Easterine’s novel is an example of peace literature as it plays the “role in the safeguarding of memory and commemoration and it must highlight the need for citizens to acknowledge personal responsibility for their actions”. The action required here being that of a step to heal the wounds of the past through forgiveness.

We see this form of writing emerging from other states of the Northeast. Mention may be made of Malsawmi Jacob's Zorami – A Redemption Song (2015) which also talks of healing from the trauma of the past. The Mizos too, like the Nagas, have undergone tremendous sufferings in the 1950s and 60s which led to the rise of the MNF (Mizo National Front) who took arms against India. Just as the protagonist of the novel needed inner healing to let her move forward, the people too required a spiritual healing through forgiveness to see healing in the land.

There is power in stories – the power to let the still clear voice emerge to speak what has not been uttered by the maddening crowd. Far more than what politicians or bureaucrats blabber about peace in the chaos around us, it is the voice of the writers who speak sense. The political peace will continue to remain an illusion for the Nagas as long as a spirit of forgiveness is not given primary focus. This is true of not just peace with the larger Indian state or the neighbouring people groups but also within their own fold which has been marred by factional conflicts. The Forum for Reconciliation (FNR) initiated in 2008 by well-intended Naga public leaders is driven by the need for reconciliation among different warring groups through forgiveness for the sake of the future.

I think it is this truth expressed through literary works that needs consideration for peace and hope to be perceivable. In these times of uncertainty, it is the voice of the writers that speaks volume loud and clear, as Easterine Kire mentions.

There is power in stories – the power to let the still clear voice emerge to speak what has not been uttered by the maddening crowd. Far more than what politicians or bureaucrats blabber about peace in the chaos around us, it is the voice of the writers who speak sense. The political peace will continue to remain an illusion for the Nagas as long as a spirit of forgiveness is not given primary focus. This is true of not just peace with the larger Indian state or the neighbouring people groups but also within their own fold which has been marred by factional conflicts. The Forum for Reconciliation (FNR) initiated in 2008 by well-intended Naga public leaders is driven by the need for reconciliation among different warring groups through forgiveness for the sake of the future.

I think it is this truth expressed through literary works that needs consideration for peace and hope to be perceivable. In these times of uncertainty, it is the voice of the writers that speaks volume loud and clear, as Easterine Kire mentions.

I believe that stories are powerful

they have the power to transform lives

the magic to work peace.

It is so important that they be told

in any possible way, even in ways that we have not thought of before

as pictures, as gestures, as dance, as song

in any way they can be told

reborn, breathing life in new shapes

so that they can work their transforming magic. (“Barcelona Dreamtime”)

Works Cited (For details please see www.museindia.com)

Popular Music Subculture and the Northeast Youth

https://cafedissensus.com/2020/03/21/popular-music-subculture-and-the-northeast-youth/
Café Dissensus on March 21, 2020

“Goin’ where the wind blows”

John Ruskin once said, “Tell me what you like, and I’ll tell you what you are”. Often, this truth is also expressed about the taste of other things in life, like fashion or music. Sometimes, somehow, there is also a regional or generational similarity in the choices made. And the youth from the Northeast of India share a craze for western flavoured popular music, particularly of the Rock and alternative genre. The emergence of Hornbill Fest, NH7 Weekender Shillong, Ziro Fest, etc. is a manifestation of the popularity of this subculture in the region. This is an everyday reality that is expressed by the youth wherever they find themselves in. Duncan McDuie-Ra in his book Northeast Migrants in Delhi: Race, Refuge and Retail (2012) narrates how the Northeasterners found new hubs even in metro cities like Delhi where distinct flavours of food, fashion and music find expression.

Back in the 1990s when I was in Shillong, there was a craze for popular music, mostly of the rock music. Collections of ‘Yearbook’ – compilation of the best songs of the year – and RSJ (Rock Street Journal) were sought after hobbies of the youth. The 90s was also the heydays of ‘Rock’ music in India. Thanks to the popularization of foreign satellite televisions those days, especially MTV, the culture had far reaching effect. The era saw the launch of the popular RSJ and GIR (Great Indian Rock) concerts which are still affecting the youth today as almost strongly as when they were newly launched. And Shillong was a rock music capital of the country, not far behind other metros like Mumbai and Bangalore in hosting international bands. The region with Shillong as the locus of music, particularly western, attracted international popular bands like Smokie, Bryan Adams, Air Supply, Firehouse, MLTR, and the Christian rock band Petra, to name a few, entertained the fans. Music is certainly a great unifier!

Most people from other parts of India often ask me how it is that most young people from Northeast know how to play at least one musical instrument, especially guitar, apart from singing mellifluously. I don’t really have an answer for that but music is pretty much ingrained in the culture. Perhaps, musics flow in our veins! Reuben Mashangvah, the well-known Naga folk-guru once interestingly put it this way:

Since we were kids, we get hooked to the sound of guitar. We used to work in jhum fields and earn money to buy guitars that came from Burma. But then no one could play the guitar. There was no one to teach us. What we would do was we listened to the radio and discovered the keys and chords for ourselves (David Buhril, “North East India: India’s Rock Hub” in North East Sun, December 15, 2006, p. 21).

Perhaps, that explains a bit! What Reuben said is very much a shared experience of the growing up youth of the region. And undeniably, there is the influence of the western style of music and technology. Writing for RSJ while talking about the music scene in the region, Randeep Kaur says, “The North Eastern region of India is undoubtedly the home to some of the most incredibly talented musicians – it houses some of the best of metal, electronic, folk, fusion, pop and jazz musicians in the country” (“Continuity & Community”, RSJ, March 17, 2018).

I remember, growing up in the countryside and listening to the favorite ‘western music’ played on different radio stations, AIR Shillong, AIR Kohima, and AIR Imphal, as something to look forward to during the day. Though cassettes were available, it wasn’t quite affordable for us to buy all of them in the market. Picking up a nice collection of it was all we could do at a time. And radio could provide us the desired variety. And what’s more, it used to be aired when it suited us best, time-wise. The lazy afternoon normally turned into a lively one the moment the clock struck the time for western music. We could really resonate with the Carpenters when they sang, “When I as young I listen to the radio/ Waiting for my favorite song” (“Yesterday Once More”). It was not just the listening but like Reuben Mashangvah we would try out best to strum our treasured guitars like the ones we’d heard in the radio and cassettes. Not everyone possessed guitars, but if one in the friend circle got it, it was like everyone’s property. We would strum the chords and play it “till our fingers bleed” to rhyme with Bryan Adams’ “best days of my life” (“Summer of ‘69”).

“Life in the Fast Lane”

The advancement of technology and the enlarging communication systems have certainly contributed a lot to the development of a ‘global market’. The world we live in is transforming at a very quick pace: it’s ‘life in the fast lane’. And the Northeast is not left far behind in the ‘rat race’. The ‘images’ that get circulated in the internet have far-widening effect on the youth. The long hair, tattoos, body piercing, etc. have rapidly transformed the ‘lifestyle’ of the youth. The ‘easy going’ nature of the young people has paved the way for the modernized western lifestyle to seep into the ‘open’ culture of the tribes of Northeast.

On hindsight, however, globalization as a policy to permeate the economies of the rest of the world is largely American in nature, given the fact that the western culture is dominated by American values. Being home to “most of the products that dominates daily life around our globe”, America has benefited from its ‘soft power’ as much as it has been strengthened through her ‘hard power’ – military might (Shashi Tharoor, “Can India be a World Leader?” in Reference Yearbook 2005, p. 98). This ‘soft power’ is even more powerful than the ‘hard power’. It does not cause casualties like the ‘hard power’ but seeps into the lives of people and slowly dominates their everyday life. And, of course, this is very relevant in today’s world. America has learned it well that it doesn’t need to use its ‘hard power’ to dominate the world; its ‘soft power’ works in its favor. There was a time when the idea of a nation was limited to territorial terms. In today’s global network society when every corner of the world is “interconnected by nodes”, the peripheries are deterritorialized (Manuel Castells, The Rise of the Network Society, 2000, p. 501).

And, of course, one cannot also ignore the commercial or the money aspect of it: “Cultural forms like popular music always relate to money and power” (Johan Fonnas, “Moving Rock: Youth and Pop in late Modernity” in Popular Music Vol. 9 No. 3, October, 1990, p. 292). The emergence of pop/icon and the craze after rock bands can be looked upon as ‘symbols’ that attract the attention of people. A popular music genre is always sought after. And from generation to generation the popularity of music changes. From the jazz to rock ‘n’ roll to rock to reggae to pop to rap to hip-hop to technologically-influenced music of dance remixes and trance genre changes too with the strategy of the market. This is more so since the late 1990s up till now and these are mainly manipulated according to the taste of the consumer. And then, there is the ‘selling’ factor of the product. The fact that rock music sells in the Northeast is already a reason for the international mediators or sponsors to eye that region. And this has been further quickened by the emergence of transnational media and network systems.

‘Enter the Fusion Music’: Resurgence of tradition?

For a long time now, however, music as a career has never been encouraged by the older generation/parents for moral as well as economic reasons. The moral reason is closely tied to the kind of images that the popular icons have displayed – rebellion, sex, drugs, etc. – thereby painting a picture in the minds of the parents that ‘rock’ culture is destructive and hence to be discarded. But the second reason, that is, economic viability, has bigger implications. The largely agrarian society has not quite seen music as a sustainable career option, let alone the high cost of investment that is usually required. But lately, these hurdles have been crossed as many youths from the region have made successful music careers, both locally as well as internationally. It is not a surprise that most schools in the Delhi NCR have people from the Northeast as music teachers/instructors, particularly the western music.

Even in the states of the region, of late, there has been a big push to promote music as an industry. An example can be taken of the Nagaland state government’s initiative to launch the Special Task Force for Music (STFM) in 2005 to promote the music industry. Since then there has been a visible and steady growth of the industry in the state. But this also brings to fore the need for a political will backed by a well-planned commercial strategy to enable a conducive growth of music in the region. The fact that the now famous Hornbill Festival continues to draw publicity and host grand music fest is because it is a state-sponsored annual event under STEM.

On the same note, there is also a kind of resurgence among the Nagas to pick up their long-ignored musical tradition. With a legacy of a vibrant oral tradition where music has a quintessential role to play, the Naga musicians have experimented and reinvented their own musical root. In course of time, there is development of a fusion music genre. By and large, this genre has mystified music lovers. The success of Tetseo Sisters, Abiogenesis, The Purple Fusion, just to name a few, has strengthened this newfound interest. Perhaps, this is also a conscious choice for many music lovers because the fusion music has greater affinity with the folk. This new indigenous identity injected to music shows some promising future in the social relevance of musical art. There is now a rise in the youth music bands that blend their acquired knowledge of the western music and the freshly discovered music of their own and make a different genre of music that is yet to be discovered by the world. We see this slowly penetrating the church music too. For the Nagas, being largely Christian, the church holds an important place in shaping the mindset of the people. There is a clear visible rise of interest in ethnomusicology and it incorporates the church music sphere too. And for a good reason, the fusion music is the one which is likely to sustain.

The Naga #MeToo Moment – A Review of Love. Lust. And Loyalty

 

Author: Yuimi Vashum

Publisher: Penthrill Publication House

Year of publication: 2018

Pages/ Price: 105/ 299/-

It is quite unusual to start a book review on an apologetic note, but I want to put on record that this is a long pending one. But I write this not so much to please the author and publisher, but to bring to fore the subject child sexual abuse, or sexual exploitation in general, which the book so powerfully articulates, and it has too long been silenced in the Naga society, as also in many societies across the world. It was only at a recent launch of the book, The Marys of the Bible: The Original #MeToo Movement by Boaz Johnson cum a panel discussion on sexual exploitation, in Delhi that I got prompted to the immediacy of talking about the subject. The Marys of the Bible argues that the Bible started the #MeToo movement because it does not hide the sexual abuses in the historical/biblical times, and that in fact, Jesus came to redeem the broken people and the world we live in.

The book's title Love. Lust. And Loyalty sums up pretty much what most poets write about. Those three words are what most people juggle with in relationships. But what more appealing to me of this book of poetry is the section on “Forgiveness” that didn't find its way to the title. Divided into two parts, the first section on “Forgiveness” deals with the struggles of the poet in coming to terms with the memory of the menacing past of being sexually abused. The second section on “Love. Lust. And Loyalty” shades light on the poet's encounters of love, heartbreaks and all that most lovers sing of! However, what captivates me is not just that it upsets the usual style of poetry by having the title at the end but also the brutally honest experiences of what poet as a young girl goes through.

Telling one's life story is not an easy task, especially when that part of life is a traumatic one. Yet, narrating them can be a therapeutic experience, as psychologists/psychiatrists would say. In a “bare it all” way, Yuimi confronted the demons that haunted her since the time she was “seven years old”. “It all started with Robinhood / A tiny illustrated book he brought with him that summer” she recounted in the poem “waves of abuse”. As excited as a seven years old would be to be read bedtime stories, she fell into the bait, easily becoming his victim - “He fucked me over and over again / Until he finished the book”. She tells of how for years she would still “have my haunted dark days” and even driven to the brink of life wishing to “jump of a tall building” or “throw myself at a running train” (“childhood to adulthood”). Her pain was even made worse when the society wouldn't come to defend the defenseless - “And parents, aunties, uncles, sirs, madam, / All of them lecturing Your virginity is your virtue / Do they know? Do they think about girls like me?” (“the problem with virtues”).

But the true strength of the poet lies in the fact that she was able to “brave the demons” - “I gave my nightmares a closure fifteen years later; / For my freedom, / From the fear, the beast(s) and society” (“waves of abuse”). The sarcasm on the society's indifference is subtle here. And yet, greater still is the poet's ability to forgive the perpetrators/demons - “Because, Forgiveness, / It liberates you” (“let go and let God”). I think this is the highest virtue one can hope for from victims of abuse of any kind. This is true Christ-likeness. And the largely Christian communities like the Nagas need to take this as a way forward to find healing from the wounds of the past.

Love. Lust. And Loyalty is a daring book of poetry that is utterly honest on the part of the young poet to pour out the trauma of sexual abuse she experienced as a child. It is universally accepted that many children suffer sexual abuse but remained silent because of fear or are usually silenced by elders in the family and the society. Recognizing the need to deal with this issue, the United Nations declared 19th November as the World Day for the Prevention of Child Abuse, and 20th November as the International Day for the Rights of the Child. Yet, despite these recognitions many cases go unreported or many children still suffer abuse because they are not aware of their rights, or are silenced, and many people live in denial.

By telling her own story, Yuimi Vashum does not simply fascinates in poetic experiences, but she does set an agenda that the wave of abuses would be confronted:

Today, as I sit here and write this,

Recalling feelings I never wanted to;

I weep for the little children (like me) who suffered,

Alone.

I hope they get to read this,

and in their lowest moments,

I hope they remember-

We moved past the abuse;

We can move past anything.

(“childhood to adulthood”).

I hope Love. Lust. And Loyalty would not just be another book of poetry that is shelved in your collection and forgotten after a while, but that it would spark off the #MeToo movement in the Naga society or the society you find yourself fitted to. Silence make the victims suffer over and over again, and the demons grow bigger and fiercer. Let's stand for those who have been wronged, especially the little ones!

Published on 18 June, 2019, Morung Express

https://morungexpress.com/the-naga-metoo-moment-a-review-of-love-lust-and-loyalty/

Second Edition of Literary Cultures of India's Northeast

Of Love and Loss – A review of A Respectable Woman

Author: Easterine Kire

Publisher: Zubaan

Year/pages: 2019/184

The opening line of the new novel by Easterine Kire, A Respectable Woman, resonates with the popular passage of Ecclesiastes chapter 3 where the wise king Solomon articulates that there is a time for everything and a season for every activity under heaven. In verse 7 of the passage we read of “a time to be silent and a time to speak.”The narrator and protagonist of the novel, Kevinuo, says, “It took my mother, Khunuo, exactly forty-five years before she could bring herself to talk about the war.” The statement indicates a period of silence on the subject. And interestingly, silence is not about forgetting but a process of letting matter, the trauma or tragedy in this case, sink in until one can be strong again to talk about it. Most cultures, in a sense, share this truth.

A Respectable Woman (ARW henceforth) is woven around the story of a mother telling her experiences of growing up at a defining moment of Kohima and people who lived through the Second World War. Divided into three parts, the novel chronicles the memories of the mother and traces the family relations in Part One. Part Two begins with the birth of the protagonist-narrator and her growing up “to witness different happenings, some of them good, some much worse…” Part Three is largely a continuation of the narratives from the previous one but focused on personal battles the protagonist had to confront mainly with the tragic death of her closest friend, Beinuo, due to abuse by her husband and taking custody of the orphaned girl. While the plot of the novel is centred on the stories of Kevi and her mother, it is interwoven with the memories of the grandmother and other elders of the community about certain aspects of the past, and in this case the times around the war.

Memory of the period is important because it was a time of tremendous changes, not just for people living in and around Kohima, the centre of the action, but also for the Nagas as a whole as there was a paradigm shift in the political and social dynamics. So significant is the war in the novel that there is repeated use of the phrase “before the war” to demarcate a historical timeline. Just like different seasons mark the timeline of the year, “the war” became an important historical reference point for the Nagas. Though the war was not of their making, the Nagas were caught in the war and were forced into bear the brunt of it. In the recent times there has been few works by Nagas narrating their accounts of the war. Notable ones include The Battle of Kohima (2007) by Mekhrie Khate, Aphriilie Iralu, et al. (Eds.), The Road to Kohima: The Naga Experience of the 2nd World War (2017) by Charles Chasie and Harry Fecitt, and Easterine Kire’s bestselling semi-fictional novel titled Mari (2010). These narratives help us assess the impact of the war on the Nagas. The brutality of the battle of Kohima led the military historian Robert Lyman to remark that the war fought in the Naga Hills was “[t]he most desperate and bloody struggle in the entire war in the south Asian land mass” (Japan’s Last Bid for Victory: The Invasion of India 1944 (2011), p. 215). The centrality of the war is also depicted in the novel wherein Amo, the narrator’s maternal uncle, became a war hero after he survived the Japanese bullets, but couldn’t live long for the same reason.

ARW holds an important place in this regard as it documents a lot of what has been side-lined in the current discourses of the Nagas. In an interesting way, the book even becomes a historical source of Kohima’s past because it mentions of when and who set up the first book shop, the first pharmacy, and the famed Kohima Bakery, among others. Also, by mentioning many of the first among Nagas in various fields, Easterine Kire makes a conscious attempt to credit those who contributed to the building of the society, especially in the formative period. As one reads the novel, one gets a feeling that Kohima becomes a character in the novel with all its liveliness, be it bearing the brunt of the war destructions or the makeover it got after it or the restructuring of the township in the 50s and 60s. Certainly, there is a sense nostalgia in the author’s tone as she recounts a lot of what was a part of her growing up years in Kohima. Written in the first person narrative, the autobiographical mode of writing gives a perfect blend of facts and fiction. Though Kevi may not be Easterine in to-to, the reader can nevertheless draw the semblance in various aspects. But in the fine hand of the master-artiste-novelist, the line is nevertheless drawn clearly.

There are also other issues of the society that the author tries to address through the novel. Alcoholism, which had become a byword of the largely frustrated young Nagas, remains an issue which both the church and the state have not contained till today. While critiquing the state for treating alcoholism as a mere crime of the few misfits, the novel also unveils the fact that there is a huge contribution of the “political environment” and the harsh governmental actions on the public which contributed to the social problem. Added to the whole challenging situation is the lackadaisical approach of the church as well as the society. What should bother the reader is the silence of larger society in the issue of alcoholism and its related issue of domestic violence. The twin belong to some of those devils that the Nagas still count ignorable but has eaten into the marrows of the society. The narrator’s shock at learning about his best friend’s marital woes at a much later stage is something to be grasped.

ARW is a book that gives a critical insight into some of the challenges confronting the Naga society today. And in the hand of a commendable writer and ‘insider’ like Easterine Kire the stories she construct powerfully captivates the readers with her own style of narration which is deeply rooted to the storytelling tradition of the Nagas. Even in this novel, her effort to reconstruct the memory of the past is in true spirit of the Naga oral culture wherein there is a conscious passing down of stories of the people to the younger generation. Though the mother finds telling some of her life stories hurting at times she felt the importance of telling about the family because those are the legacies that should be passed on. Every generation’s experience is unique and telling them can be a learning experience for the next generation. As a foremost writer among Nagas there are so much that the younger generation of storytellers can find inspiration in Easterine Kire. Besides the national and international recognitions, the award just endowed on her, The Gordon Graham Prize for Naga Literature, is truly a recognition of her contribution to literary wealth of the Nagas.

Published in Morung Express on 9th April, 2019

http://morungexpress.com/of-love-and-loss-a-review-of-a-respectable-woman/ 

Revisiting the Parable of the Good Samaritan

For most of us who have grown up in a ritualistic church going set-up we would be pretty familiar with all the popular stories of the Bible, including the parables of Jesus. We get so used to listening to them as time-pass stories or seeing them staged at occasional religious functions like the nativity scene at Christmas, but that is it. The tragedy for today's ‘modern’ Christians is that we get so familiar with those stories that we fail to apply them to our lives today. After all, isn’t the Bible supposed to be the guidebook for Christians along life’s journey?

The parable of the Good Samaritan (Luke 10: 25-37) is another story that we often fail to look beyond its mere narrative. But I think it still speaks in volume if we closely follow it. And as I see it, the parable has pointers to who a ‘true’ Christian is. Just a recap of the story in a nutshell: A man traveling to Jericho was robbed and beaten to a point of near-dead; a priest came the same way but walked away from the other side; a Levite also passed by but ignored him and walked away; finally, a Samaritan came along, saw the wounded man and helped him.

If we look at the context, the priest and the Levite were people who have businesses at the Lord’s temple and yet they failed miserably in what they claim to profess (For instance, “Love your neighbor as yourself” [Lev. 19:18]). On the contrary, the one who was supposedly an alien came to the rescue of the unfortunate man. It is important to understand that the Jews at that time despise Samaritans as outcasts and even refer to them at the level of dogs. (One can also infer this from Jesus' discourse with the Samaritan woman [John 4: 1-26]) Perhaps, the Samaritans also treated the Jews likewise. And yet, Jesus did an outrageous thing by presenting the Samaritan as the true ‘neighbour’. Of course, the Bible did not record the reaction of the ‘expert in the law’ or the crowd (including the disciples) present there but it would have been certainly interesting to behold!

Not only did Jesus upheld the Samaritan but he even told his listeners to “Go and do likewise” (v. 37). For Jews it must have been an insult to the injury: first, Jesus projected the Samaritan in the positive light and then told them to make him their role model! I believe Jesus chose the character of the Samaritan deliberately to make a point about the relationship of the Jewish people with other people groups living side by side with them. Jesus commended the act of the Samaritan to imply that we need to look beyond who the person is. The Jews, as we know, considers themselves ‘chosen people’ and therefore thinks highly of themselves.

Now, let us consider the situation of our contemporary society, more specifically of the relationships we share with communities living next to us. Let me take the case of the Naga Christians in Manipur as an example. I don’t think we’re any better than the Jews the way we think ourselves superior to communities living next to us. Religious bigotry is perceivable everywhere. Perhaps, our identity in Christ has not really sunk in to help us think beyond our subjective selves. But if we are to qualify ourselves as followers of Christ then we certainly need to broaden our definition of who our ‘neighbour’ is. If Jesus were to come in our midst today I’m sure he would have used the Kukis or the Meiteis or other people who are not of the same people groups in his parable to teach us a lesson. And as I see it, most conflicts within communities in the state would have been better monitored had churches and Christians looked deeper into the Bible for answers.

The relationship between different communities in the state can turn volatile any time because the old wounds have not really healed. And so, I think we need to be more cautious and act with a clear conscience. And the Word of God can be the light to light our way. Jesus said, “So in everything, do to others what you would have them do to you for this sums up the Law of the Prophets” (Matt. 7: 12). Most rules or laws made by man are normally stated in a negative way, like “Don’t do this…”, “Don’t do that…”, etc. But Jesus instead put it the other way round and tells us to “do to others”, implying a positive attitude towards our relationship with others. Generally, human tendency is to reciprocate to anything done to her/him. Good or bad, most of the time we only respond to the action done on us, and, perhaps, with the same measure precisely. Yet, Jesus instructs his followers with a different philosophy, that is, to be the first in doing good things for others. That way we can be certain nothing negative comes our way!

Jesus’ commandment to His followers implies a rather unusual approach to life altogether. But very seldom do we try and digest what His teaching would mean to us as His followers today. When he says, “Do to others as you would have them do to you” (Luke 6: 31) Jesus meant that his listeners should not only to be good to those who are good to them but to be good to everyone; not to only love those who love them but to love even their enemies! Such kinds of teaching by Jesus has often been considered ‘hard teaching’ by His own disciples and modern day scholars alike. Perhaps, that is so because Jesus was teaching contrary to the principles of the world!

The worldly principle would persuade us to be good to those who are good to us alone; to be bad to those who are bad to us; to love those who love us only, and likewise. Quite often, our desires seem to have grown to ditto others when it comes to relating with others. Somehow, it seems difficult to initiate but easier to follow suit! Our perspective to life is centered on our own world, so much so that we’ve developed a worldview of displacing the ‘other’. And in a world where ‘individualism’ is being encouraged, there is less and less time to think beyond the ‘self’! The principle that Jesus laid down for His followers is to first picture the ‘other’ before considering the ‘self’. He wants us to know that peace comes from looking into the interest of others. Harmonious co-existence of all living beings on earth entirely hinges on the respect for the opinion or the belief that each one may be contended with. When there is intolerance, hostilities certainly arise.

Jesus said that if we love those who love us only, we’re no different from any other person. In other words, He wants His followers to be different by being more than the worldly-wise; “By this all men will know that you are my disciples, if you love one another” (John 13:35). Here, Jesus was talking about ‘love’ that is without any pre-condition. To remain faithful to the teachings of our Lord today, let us be active in doing what is good because only then can we expect people to reciprocate in a positive way.

Book Review: People and Articulations in Naga Literatures

February 2, 2016, Morung Express

Manjeet Baruah

Literary Cultures of India’s Northeast: Naga Writings in English by K.B. Veio Pou
Publisher: Heritage Publishing House
Pages: 213, Price: Rs. 300/-

K.B. Veio Pou’s book Literary Cultures of India’s Northeast: Naga Writings in English is an important contribution to the study of literature and culture of Northeast India. It is important because it is an extensive study of Naga literatures, especially since the twentieth century. It is also important because it provides a nuanced view of literatures in English that have emerged from the region during the period. Divided into five chapters, the book covers themes which are as historical and political as they are literary and cultural. Therefore, it makes the study not only one on literature, but also a socio-cultural history of the Nagas, possibly one of the few in this field.

Issues such as modernisation, religion and orality; political experiences and shaping of ideological apparatuses; genres of texts; memory and social experience; and notions or practices of political geography, these issues have figured in different ways in some of the other works on the Nagas too. Then what makes the present book distinct? A reading of Literary Cultures of India’s Northeast highlights a difference which entering such issues through the vantage point of literature can make. For example, the book shows how literary works construct characters. The characters are drawn from the social world, and their experiences and perspectives, as provided with, are important in the making of the narratives. The characters may be of the urban world, or they may be rural. They may be male or female, and could be of different ages. They could speak or imagine in different forms, whether in oral genres or in the written ones. They could be part of events which occur in different locations such as market places, domestic confines, roads, camps, churches, graveyards and many more.

In other words, what is shown in the book is how literature allow us to see the people, the common people, and acquire a sense of how they view their own locations in history and politics. Therefore, what we see is how people being historical and political beings is also closely connected to they being human beings. And it is this relation which the characters and the narratives illustrate. Perhaps, it is this visibility of the common people and their lived worlds which often remain in the shadows of discourses. Therefore, Veio Pou’s book is importantly positioned, wherein the common people become humanly tangible, and it is the tangibility of human life which gives concreteness to discourses or their understanding in research work.

However, one may argue that literatures being fictional narratives, are the characters too only imagined realities? Perhaps not. One can support Veio Pou’s contention through other illustrations as well. For example, when one goes through the tour diaries, reports and brief life narratives of the 1950s from the erstwhile Tuensang Frontier Division, one gets to see how agrarian and guerrilla existences, landscape, objects, building roads, rituals and customs, and firearms were inextricably connected in the lives of the people. There were instances when land was exchanged for rifles and problems that could arise thereof. There were instances when disputes over ownership of agrarian resources were connected to the vicissitudes between agrarian and guerrilla existences. From growing rice to finding wireless sets in the rice fields were part of people’s experiences. There were instances when the focus was not Zapu Phizo per se, but his Tommy gun, and how it changed hands through several people until one day it was found in a field in the village outskirts.

To borrow an insight from Veio Pou’s book, perhaps one can say that what these archival narratives highlighted was the world of those Nagas who were common but tangible people. They were concrete in the materiality and thoughts of their lives. And as his book shows, people in this sense of reality abound as different characters in Naga literatures too. The people who figured in the archival texts were engaged in living their socio-economic lives and also had their political convictions for the Naga movement. After all, they entered the archival narratives because the state encountered them, at times accidentally, while looking for camps and leaders, and did not appreciate their political convictions. Similarly, many important Naga literary works bring out the inextricable totality of the human and political existence, or the historicity of life that comprises both the everyday and the political of the landscape.

Thus, characters from the archives and literatures appear to express a common point. Veio Pou’s book has numerous discussions on how culture, politics and history are contained in the very materiality of people’s existence and thoughts. We get to hear them, see them, and find how the vividness of their past and present can come alive if only we make that little effort. Naga literature abounds representing and manifesting such reality. Genres, languages, or styles in literature are also part of such conditions of reality. The nature or choice of genres and styles cannot be isolated from how they articulate such reality, and also seek to shape the making of reality. As the book shows, folk and written, human and political, state and organisations, body and gender, peoples and nation, these dimensions converge in Naga literary narratives, transforming literature into rich and complex narratives of a national life.

Veio Pou’s book, through exploration of these dimensions, is not only a work of literary studies but also one of socio-cultural history. And it stands as an important contribution towards a nuanced understanding of people, landscape and articulations from this part of the world.

Manjeet Baruah teaches in North East India Studies Programme,

Jawaharlal Nehru University, New Delhi

http://morungexpress.com/book-review-people-and-articulations-in-naga-literatures/

How to be a 'Normal' Indian

At a recently concluded conference on the Northeast of India (btw, I'm a little baffled by the sudden attention paid on the Northeast, though I'm one of the 'unashamed' beneficiaries) organized by a well-known government agency, an old lady made a comment which refused to leave my mind. After a paper presentation by a scholar from Assam she said, “I couldn't get much of your presentation because your pronunciations. You didn't speak like a 'normal' Indian.” I was like, 'did I hear that right?' Thankfully, the members in the conference hall were gracious enough to not react to her ignorance, else a war of language would have begun. Anyway, my mind wandered off...

I began to ask, “Who's a 'normal' Indian?” Living in Delhi for almost half my lifetime now I've realized how hard it is to fit into the larger society if one is not originally of North India. Harder still when you have a different racial orientation. What's even more daunting is when even the language you speak becomes the point of discrimination. Often I've heard young people from the Northeast seeking BPO jobs in Delhi/NCR being rejected at interviews because of heavy “mother-tongue influence”. Ironically though, and over the period of time, these Northeastern youths seem to have sustained and dominated the workforce in BPOs, for whatever reason. Naturally, everyone has “mother-tongue influence”. But seemingly even in the language scenario the culture of the dominant community is considered the “correct” spoken language. Take for example, most people in North India interchange their 'W' and 'V' as if it is normal (ve are going to vatch a wery nice mowie!). Yet, you wouldn't find such spoken languages being laughed at because most people speak that way.

On the other hand, I have often been 'un-understood' of my English because of my accent. I realize that I am a bit influenced by the Hollywood movies in my English that I got a bit Americanized in my English. For instance, the use of the narrower (American) 'a' rather than the rounder (British) as in 'cǝn't'/'cAn't'. (I've not studied in an American school, fyi.) English, anyway, is only a second language to every (or almost all) Indians. Yet, ironically, in a country with such wide linguistic plurality like ours it is difficult to understand when one's English is categorically stated that it is accented! It is truly difficult to be 'normal' in India.

Easterine Kire’s The Log-Drummer Boy and Children’s Literature (From a Naga Perspective)

I was much delighted to see the publication of Easterine Kire’s The Log-Drummer Boy. Not just because it was written by a foremost Naga writer writing in English and somebody I really admire, but also because I had always wished for the day when I’d see children's books based on our own culture and tradition. The book has a simple narrative structure, but captivating enough to interest adult readers too! (Somehow, and strange enough, it is often the adult readers who are engrossed with the so-called “children’s books” and rushes to watch “children’s movies”! Perhaps, it is the child’s fantasy in all of us that refuses to die with age.) The book opened to introduce us to two young children who begged their grandmother-storyteller to tell them “another” story. Relenting to them, the story she went to tell was about a young boy named Nokcha, who lived with his grandparents, and had a fascination for the log drums. His grandfather, one of the log-drummers in the village, instantly recognized the latent talent in the boy. And so, the young boy of seven was enthralled one day when his grandfather decided to make him a small log drum. Since then he would practice beating the drum into different rhythm. In olden times, the log drum was an important item for the people as it could be used to announce war or announce a big festival. People could recognize the rhythm of the beat and accordingly be alerted. One day, during the time of harvest, Nokcha could not accompany his grandparents to the field because he had sprained his ankle. It so happened that on that day the enemy warriors were waiting to lay siege on the village. Those were the days of warring against each other. Alarmed at the impending threat and prompted by his caretaker-of-the-day, an old woman, the boy ran to where spot where the log drum was kept and “beat out a warning beat very rapidly, his little hands moving fast as he could manage”. The sudden sound of the log drum surprised even the enemy for they thought there was no one in the village. It sounded like almost a dozen of men beating the drums. The alerted villagers ran back to the village and enemy ran off, some of whom even fell into the hand of the villagers. That day the boy saved the village from being attacked. And the entire village praised him and made him an honorary drummer.

Books, whether they are part of the school curriculum or not, certainly shape a child’s outlook. Therefore, there is an increasing need to introduce children to books that will be constructive and not just supply them with whatever is available. In our context today, the influence that comes from those that children read apart from the school curriculum is huge. What we read in our leisure time can shape our thinking to a large extend. But what is given to us in school form the basis of knowledge. One cannot deny that the impact that institutionally transmitted knowledge has in our attitudes to everything around us. It comes almost naturally to any child to accept the formally taught materials in the school as complete knowledge. As fertile as a child’s mind is, anything sown in it can grow well.
Somehow, we all imitate or live out what we have seen or read when we were young. For instance, consider the kinds of books we read during childhood. I’m sure it is a shared experience for children growing up in the eighties and nineties of the last century when for most part of our early schools years the kind of stories that interested us were limited to the few comic books available to us; Western ones like Superman, He-man, Phantom, Batman, Tintin, Commando War comics, etc. and Indian ones like Tinkle Digest and other Amar Chitra Katha series on Indian myths/epics, Chacha Chaudhary and other picture stories and comics. Later on, one would slowly graduate to the Archie’s comics and the various photo romance magazines. Strangely, during those days, I don’t remember having read any story or comic strips based on our folktales. [One may, of course, say that Tinkle comics incorporated some folktales from the Northeast and other tribal communities from various parts of the country, but if I’m not wrong it came to be seen in the much later editions.] Thus, being exposed to materials with no connections to my culture, for a long time I considered my cultural items ‘unimportant’ and even being ‘ashamed’ of being identified with them. And by being ‘western’ in my style and outlook, I mistook it for being ‘modern’. I’m sure many of you had that experience. It took years for me to ‘unlearn’ many of what I’ve learned through ‘institutions’ and redeem a sense of dignity in my own culture.

The Log-Drummer Boy came at a much needed time. The young Nagas are living in a time when there is a sense of cultural loss because we’ve only being taught with materials that are foreign to us for all these time. And yet, in a way, the younger generation cannot really be blamed for possessing too little knowledge of culture and tradition. The educational materials that we have been exposed to through out our school life have no links with their own history and culture. Thus, by being not included in the educational curriculum, a message gets passed on that sources from the oral tradition do not fit as materials to be learned or taught. This attitude can be traced to the early years of Christianization, the missionary run schools/institutes being the main source of modern/western education. Though it may have seemed inevitable then, for various reasons though debatable, we’ve reached a stage now where there is potential in creating an indigenous knowledge database. We can start by incorporating children’s book like The Log-Drummer Boy into our school curriculum and encourage production/writing of books like that. (Of course, I understand that there is incorporation of writings by various Naga writers at different levels in the school syllabus, that is laudable). In the case of the book under discussion, the cultural content of the book can help children appreciate our tradition, and in a good way preserve various cultural markers of the society. Undeniably, Nagas have too long depreciated our own culture by thinking that there is hardly any value. But that is not true. There are lots of things that we need to know of our culture, not just to uplift our cultural identity but also because they were part of what made us a people till today.

Often we consider our old storytelling tradition as a kind of time pass activity, merely to listen and enjoy. But it does much more than that. The stories are narrated and songs sung with certain coded message to teach life’s lessons or tell us about people’s history and culture. For instance, in The Log-Drummer Boy, we were informed that in the olden days “the log drum” is considered to be “a spirit and that it protects the village. That is why we respect it and give it honour.” Besides, the grandmother, while telling the story, went on to explain the important functions of the log drum those days and the different motifs labelled on it, representing different symbols and meanings. Being from an oral tradition, the songs and stories are repositories of our rich cultural heritage. And the storytellers hold big responsibilities of passing down information accurately and the wisdom of the forefathers kept when they tell stories. Yet, sad but true, for most Nagas it is only at the research level where we become conscious of the disconnect with our culture. And then we begin to find topics of study to recover, or make an effort to reclaim, the loss. But by the time we move into the field to gather materials, we’re faced with the unfortunate predicament of the scarcity of what we’re looking for. One of the most regrettable losses, I think, is the almost complete disappearance of our culture specific songs and stories.

The inclusion of The Log-Drummer Boy and other similar books into the school syllabus will not only help younger generation of Nagas appreciate our culture but also restore a sense of dignity in who we are. On a personal note, I was very much encouraged to find that the book was published in collaboration with Fernwood School. Though I don’t know the school personally, it is heart warming to see that at least schools (hoping that there are more schools) are taking interest in promoting books like that. I’m sure such an effort by schools will go a long way in imparting cultural values to the budding minds. And of course, there’s the wonderful illustration by Canato Jimo (My daughter loves the cute illustrations!) I hope we’ll see more of it! Easterine Kire is one of the most prolific writers among Nagas writing in English. She is the acclaimed writer of A Terrible Matriarchy (Zubaan 2007, second edition 2013), which was also among the selected books by the government of India to be translated into the six UNESCO languages in 2011. Her novel Mari (Harper Collins 2010) has also been translated into German, her novel Bitter Wormwood (Zubaan 2011) was shortlisted for the Hindu Lit Prize 2013, and her latest novel When The River Sleeps (Zubaan 2014) traces its source to the rich oral tradition of the Nagas. Through her writings a lot more of the Naga story is heard by others from many parts of the world. The Catalan prize for free voice which she won last year (2013) is a commendation of how her work is speaking for a people whose stories have long being subdued. Her initiative for a publishing house, Barkweaver, along with a couple of others is aimed at promoting our stories and songs. And in the recent years Barkweaver has published many people centric story book including Naga Folktales Retold, Forest Song, Life on Hold, Different Strokes (again another book that can be of great help for schools with study guides for teachers and parents), two children’s books, Once in Faraway Dorg and Dinkypu and her latest book of poems My Book of Angels (all authored by Easterine Kire).

Book Details:
The Log Drummer Boy 
Author: Easterine Kire
Illustrator: Canato Jimo
Publisher: Barkweaver
Year of Publication: 2013
Pages: 40
(The book can be ordered online at www.ilandlo.com)

(This review is a slightly improved version of the one that first appeared in Eastern Mirror, 4 April, 2014)