Colour coded Lurve

One of my old teachers loved telling us about the way Mizo women were (mis)treated in olden days. Apparently, women were a silenced lot, who had almost no say in their own lives. Well, I did say almost. When prospective grooms were suggested to them, if she liked the candidate, she would tell her parents, "As you wish", and if she didnt like him, she'd say, "You can have him if you like". But prospective brides, especially those intended for the noble familias had to undergo certain tests to prove their worth. They were made to strip down and their bodies were inspected for blemishes and marks. Their first crap of the day was also inspected. Apparently, a healthy-looking crap signified a healthy body, which in turn, signified a wife who would be capable of rigorous labour and multiple births :D


They were also expected to be modest and discreet. A maiden must in no way reveal, either by a word or a look that she fancies a particular male. She had to treat all her visitors with equal charm and coyness. If a male complains that a certain girl had been rude to him, apparently, the males gathered together and tore down the girl's house. [Came across this interesting bit of info when a guy told me that if the old rule had still been prevalent, my house would have been demolished quite a few times :-( ]  


Of course, women being women, they found small ways in which they could voice their sentiments. When the lads came calling, they served huge lumps of coal to light the pipes (?) of those they didn't like, and tiny embers to those they liked, so that they would have to go back to them again and again. I guess we all know this bit of info anyway. Well, I came across another info in this month's Lengzem (Mizo Rawng) which had me pretty tickled.


When rolled cigarettes replaced pipes, women found another great way to express their affections. They would roll cigarettes for their gentlemen callers and they came up with certain colour codes in the threads they used to tie these cigarettes. 
If the thread she uses is white, it stood for indifference- neither dislike, nor affection. Just plain and simple nothing. Nada.
A black thread signified sorrow. She might be telling a suitor that her parents do not approve of him.
Red stood for anger. A cigarette tied with a red thread was a silent but strong accusation or reprimand to a lad.
And green. Green literally means she's giving a lad the green light. It stood for LOVE (in caps-yes). A ciggy tied with a green thread could  literally be an un-smokable treasure for a love-struck lad.
And finally, if a maiden used her own hair instead of a thread to tie that ciggy, it signified not just love, but also complete and utter surrender of her self. It stood for "Im yours. Send emissaries NOW". 


Can you just imagine our forefathers grinning foolishly in the firelight staring at a ciggy tied with a green or hairy thread? Bring back the romance! Or maybe not. Not being able to freely tell the one I love that I love him would probably frustrate the hell out of me. Still, it would be such an exhilarating moment, when a maiden shyly ties a ciggy with her own hair and hands it to her lover in trepidation. And lover boy would receive it, comprehension slowly dawning on his sun-burned face as it breaks out in a face-splitting grin. 
Love, I guess, speaks its own language and finds its own way- Cliched but true.   

The wrong kind of love?

There has been oodles said about inter-racial marriages and I probably would not contribute much by way of new insight into the whole issue. But recently a friend got married and I found out only through the photos she mailed me that her husband was from a different race. She said that she had been hesitant to tell me because of the general attitude towards those marrying outside one's race.Some of her friends didn't attend her wedding, whether because they were genuinely busy or opposed to the union, she couldn't say, but she felt their absence keenly.


I know a girl who married a half-Vai guy. Her family, especially her father opposed the marriage vehemently. He was a church elder and it didn't matter to him that the man her daughter married also came from a Christian family. He kept insisting, "God wants me to never forgive this great sin". WTF? He never acknowledged his daughter or her in-laws, and later, his own grand-daughter. The couple eventually separated and only then,  he took his daughter and his grandchild back into the fold.


Admittedly, I'm thankful that we Mizos dont have 'honour killings'. It was brought to my knowledge fairly recently that apart from the many threats of reprisals and the ostracisms faced, there have been remarkably little violence perpetuated in the name of inter-racial marriages within our community. We women sometimes rant against the inflexibility of our males on their stance towards inter-racial mingling, but it has to be admitted that they are not as violent in the way that they have shown their disapproval. And who knows, we women might just be as bad if one of our 'eligible' males decides to marry outside our community. Just food for thought.


Nooo..I don't want this to be a post about racism and discrimination. Rewrote this post over and over again and it still refuses to say what I want it to say. Still, one last effort...


There are those who disregard sentimental notions like love and build a marriage based on shared interests, compatible lifestyles, mutual respect and perfunctory affection. These marriages do work. And then there are those lucky enough to fall in love with someone who share similar interests, lifestyle etc with them. Then there are those who fall in love with people who, for various reasons, society deems is 'wrong' for them.  


Then there are those who make that extraordinary leap of faith and take on the collective disapproval of a whole community, all for that "illusory, fickle and temporal" thing called love. There are those who choose the 'wrong' person, come what may. There are those that refuse to spend the rest of their lives living on the remnants of "what might have been". There are those that refuse to subsist on forced 'love' with those that society has judged as suitable for them.


So is this the wrong kind of love?

Would anything that makes a woman look this hauntingly beautiful and exuberantly alive be wrong?


Nah. As far as Im concerned this is probably the rightest thing ever.


I know. This seems like a scattery (?), illogical post. But what the hell, this is for all those who have dared to prove society's nay-sayers wrong. And especially for you, yes, you, the girl in the picture. I know you'll make sure that your children will have the best of both worlds, despite what THEY think.   

They paved Paradise...

Those of you familiar with Aizawl would remember those big, noble Bung trees at Treasury Square. One of them was cut down some time back because it obstructed traffic. Also, there have been some accidents, some fatal, where careless drivers ran into that tree. Of course, some of those accidents were genuine tragedies, brought on by genuine mistakes. Anyway, that tree was cut down to decrease traffic mishaps.


The second tree is currently meeting the same fate as I write this down. This afternoon, its branches were felled and a few minutes ago, a JCB was tearing out its roots. The ASEP pasted this little note on the tree.

Granted, it was located at a very awkward place, half-in, half-off the road. But as to the claim that it caused accidents... I just don't buy that. There have been so many drivers who manage to navigate the tree successfully. As for the tragic few who were unable to... how could you not see that big tree looming before you? And even if you had somehow not seen it at first, how slowed down were your reflexes that you were unable to brake or swerve? Or how fast were you going that you were unable to stop?


This might be painful to hear for those who have lost relatives and friends in road accidents, even those not necessarily connected to this tree. But blaming a tree for an accident is tantamount to blaming mother nature for the mistakes you make. 


I have always loved those Bung trees, with their branches spread majestically over the road, their grand, old knotted trunks withstanding time and the follies of men. Here our forefathers rendezvoused before political meetings with the government and lovers of old met under its shade. This noble tree witnessed us Mizos as we took our tenuous path towards progress, and now it is going to be sacrificed at the altar of that same progress.


One less tree, one less accident? I dont know. There still are people stupid enough to drive even when they are seriously inebriated, those who think overtaking everyone and taking fast corners is the epitome of coolness, those who think they are reliable drivers just because they have obtained Driver's Licenses through illegal means. What then, do we line our streets and sharp corners with cushions so that no one will get hurt in accidents? 


The PWD claims that they have had a lot of complaints regarding this tree. But the press have said that as far as they know, the only accidents have been one of human negligence- over-speeding and drunk driving. According to a source, the media is planning to raise a huge outcry against this, it being Green Mizoram week too in the bargain. Fast forward to a few months and those complaining about this tree will be the most outspoken about poverty-stricken farmers burning their fields for cultivation and how those "stupid villagers" are destroying the environment. I have written about this in a previous post so I will not repeat myself.


I dont know now if the media's plans to intervene are successful or not. Will update this tomorrow. 
Meantime I sit here thinking of a younger me boasting to friends from other states about the greenery of Mizoram and the clean, pristine air we enjoy there.


Sigh. They paved Paradise- and its not even good paving at that too! Bleh

Meaty post

Sorry to disappoint you but this is not going to be about that kind of meaty.
A couple days back, Vanglaini produced a picture of a maxicab which was used to transport the Mizo delicacy extraordinaire- dogs. Those dogs were bundled inside sacks with just their heads showing, and bound hand (paw?) and foot. Some of the more whiny ones had their mouths tied shut. It generated a lot of comments on public forums like Fakselna, where people condemned the inhuman, brutal treatment of those dogs.


Now, I'm no vegan (though I don't eat meat that much, and especially not dog meat), nor an animals rights activist. Im not going to speak against meat eaters. Its all part of the food chain, this.


However...
Last year, I and a friend took a trip to Shillong by bus. On the way back, we stopped at Khleiriat, I think. Four Mizo women started bundling those bound and muzzled dogs inside the luggage hold of the bus. We, the passengers were a little shocked. One of them mock-joked, "We're going to report you to the border police", to which one woman replied, "I've already gotten permission from their Chief". Wow. 


We muttered amongst ourselves. I even ventured to ask tentatively if they could be transported in a more humane manner, but they laughed and said those dogs were going to be butchered soon anyway. In the Phantom comics of old, there is a saying, "The female of the species is deadlier than the male". I suppose I'm still conventional enough to be shocked that other women could treat living beings that brutally. 


The luggage hold was dark, cramped and stuffy. Imagine being bound, hand and foot, tied inside a sack, muzzled inside a dark, cramped space. Imagine being jolted everytime the bus hits one of the numerous potholes on the road. Imagine whining through the muzzle, petrified, as you try to scratch your way out. imagine suffocating on your own vomit. For that is precisely what happened to three of those fifteen or so dogs being smuggled in that night.


The women got off at Vaivakawn. And shockingly, they got into a huge fight with a man whose luggage was shredded by one of the dogs who managed to free itself from its bindings. Those woman dared to accuse that man of mistreating them because they were 'weak females' (A awm nem zawk kan nih vangin min diriam). The passengers intervened and an uneasy truce was called.


And those dogs, and others are smuggled in incessantly, with the smugglers supposedly in cahoots with the border police, if what that woman said should be believed. But then, the police conducted their mandatory border check, and they saw those dogs and they did nothing. So...maybe its not illegal, I don't know. Maybe its not even smuggling after all.


So while I think that meat is a natural part of our diet, its the brutal treatment of those animals that galls me. So what if they're going to die anyway, can't they be treated with compassion, their ends hastened instead of being drawn out like that? Do they have to be subjected to such treatment?


Looking back, I remember turning to my travelling companion and saying, "I cant sleep", and the reply, "Neither can I". And we sat in silence, listening to the frightened whines of those dogs that the sound of the bus' engine, nor the howling winds could quite cover up. And wondering who was the bigger sinner- those that commit evil, or those that stand by while evil is being committed.

Khawtlang Lunglen

Deleted a post because it was too airy-fairy and I was not feeling it. What I feel instead is "Khawtlang Lunglen". The best part I felt it some nights ago too and already wrote a note about it in my FB notes:

There's a phrase in my language that literally translates into "communal loneliness/melancholy", I think :D
It's when you feel nostalgic/ lonely/ melancholy for no particular reason and you miss... no one in particular. I don't really know how to render the exact phrase into English. 'Khawtlang lunglen' does not connote alone-ness but rather a sense of wistfulness for an elusive...something.

It's the stuff that feeds poetry and music. Its what makes lonely bachelors compose songs, it makes lonely old maids like yours truly here stare out of their windows wistfully into a misty crescent moon...

It's what I feel everytime I listen to the radio and some old, obscure Mizo song comes up with it's tinny recording. It's what I feel when there's a power cut and the neighborhood boys dust off their guitars and sing old Mizo songs and old English country songs.

Khawtlang lunglen is not sad...

Just really, really difficult to capture what it means...

Yeah so, I'm feeling it again tonight. In my part of the world, Its cold and misty and there's a power cut conveniently, and I'm staring at the distant, mist-obscured Reiek Hills...

Friend Alan commented that he too was interested in researching the etymology of a collective memory, and that kinda killed the buzz right there. Why drag academics into it? I told him to do the research and I'll do the feeling..

So yes, I'm channeling that feeling once again.

I don't miss anyone or anything in particular. I'm just reveling in the beauty of the feeling- no lights, no academics, no theories. Just me, some blues music, and my trusty laptop that refuses to churn out the appropriate bluesy vocabulary to suit my mood. Damn!

So instead here's Alison Kraus and Robert Plant's cover of Roly Salley's "Killing the blues"

Source:http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=H48TJA_vSk0. We don't wanna get sued do we?

Rising, Falling.

So today BFF Jamie and I went out, and everywhere we parked 'our' scooter (ours, because it's mine, but she's the driver), we had to pay 10 Rupees for parking fees. A few days ago, the fee was just Rs. 2. The fees for LMV's have also gone up from Rs. 5 to a whopping Rs. 30. That's like a 600% increase! (I think. My maths is horrible).

Soooo, why this increase? Supposedly, its to help lessen traffic congestion, to discourage people from parking their vehicles on roadsides. But traffic is as worse as ever, and there are still vehicles parked on roadsides. So is this, as many people are saying, a scheme for the government to scam money off citizens? Or is it just a hare-brained scheme devised by beleaguered traffic officials who just don't know what to do anymore?

The men's barber's association has also increased their fees from Rs. 15-20 to Rs. 30. Once again, there was a lot of justification. They have to keep up with rent payments, 'barber-ing' materials, and anyway, in other states, a haircut costs Rs.35. Barber shops are not places that I frequent, but the one time I went to one to get my nephew's hair cut, the shop was small, dirty, the service was bad, and the choice of haircut ranged from trimmed, short, very short to bald. Can we really compare our barber shops to those in other states? Apparently, you get a free head massage thrown in too. But then again, this is not an area that I'm familiar with, and I would appreciate a little enlightenment.

And clothes. Oh, for a gal who loves clothes as much as I do, it's always heartbreaking to be told that a simple lil' top would set me back by at least Rs.700. Thank God for our thriving second-hand stores, where you can get good cloth materials at cheaper rates, which you can get stitched. I try on the expensive clothes, take a pic, go away, and get the design copied by an amazing seamstress who doesn't know what she's worth yet. Expenditure- roughly 300-400 Rupees. Yes, its piracy, so what, yo ho ho, and a bagful of fake Diors.

Methinks Aizawl has a very high standard of living. The price tags are Metropolitan-worthy, but, hello, we are so not metropolitan. The price of everything is increasing, whether its clothes, food, house rents, public transportation fares etc. (And our morals are declining, as the Ram-Hmangaih-Tus say, but I'm not going into that) And yet, day by day, its becoming more and more crowded, and our villages and other cities are neglected to feed our hungry capital city.

I often wonder if we Mizos aren't a little bit too peace-loving for our own good. Price increase in many other states are so often met with riots, protests and marches. Here, there is a great outcry in newspapers and local networks, and then grumbling, we accept whatever decree is laid down to us. Not that I'm saying we should have a protest march, or maybe I am. We Mizos are too complacent (yours truly included), too fearful of rocking the boat. Sometimes I feel that we are "all talk and no action", all "sound and fury,signifying nothing" :(

There was a move a couple of years back to shift the capital from Aizawl to Thenzawl, and though as usual nothing happened, maybe it would be better if they do shift the capital there. Then Aizawl would be like what New York is to the States, while Thenzawl would be its financial capital. Then when Aizawl is levelled by the oft-predicted earthquake (Touchwood, touchwood!), our finances wouldn't be in too much of a muddle, and congestion problems would definitely be solved. Yeah, right.

Despite all my raving and ranting about her, I do love my savage land fiercely. I just wish I knew what to do about it, besides just going on and on about its many problems. And I wish I don't know her this well, that I see her faults so clearly. And I wish I didn't love her so much that I would never leave her for another. Because seeing her like this, falling apart at the seams, and not knowing how to help her, is tearing me up inside.

Of Half-breeds and Aliens

So, a 13 year old Mizo girl was raped by a 'Vai' guy, and once again, other Vais are advised to stay at home for their own protection. While I wish that rapists should be castrated with a blunt knife, I can't help but feel sorry for the many innocent Vais here. Many of them have lived almost all their lives here, and yet, they are always the outsiders, the ones who have to suffer quietly when the natives are on their rampage.

One of my bestest friends is a 'half-breed'. Her Facebook status reads: "Vai chhuah loh tur ania, chhuah chi bawk si lo, Mizo chhuah loh tur ti ve ta se, engtin nge ka awm ang le?" She has lived here all her life, she considers herself a Mizo, but in situations such as these, she can't go outside her house with the same assurance as we 'pure' Mizos.

We have been socially conditioned to hate Vais. Even small kids learn to chant "Vai chhia, vai chhia". We automatically distrust them, and why? Because it was a Vai autocrat who sent a Vai army to ravage our land and rape our women in 1966. I will not go into the political and social ramifications of that event. Much has been said by far better speakers and more knowledgeable people than I.

Yes, the wound has not healed. We will not forget what was done to us. A lot of innocent people suffered, but does that give us the right to inflict suffering on innocent people too?

I have seen a lot of Mizo 'Christian' guys infused with the spirit of 'Vai velh chakna'. The most recent one was when a camera followed a group of Mizo men chasing a Vai who had done nothing wrong except being born the same race as an a-hole who raped a Mizo child. The Vai guy raced up to the roof of a building, looked down at the sheer drop, glanced back at the Mizo men after him... and the camera panned out. I don't know what happened next.

My guy and I went out once when a old Vai man bumped into us. He apologized so profusely and with such a distressed look on his face. It was just an accidental bump, for Heaven's sake! But then again, we could have been radical Vai-haters, ready to hit them just for a small bump, just for a small glance, just for being.

One of my friends used to have a boyfriend who was in the MZP. He boasted about extorting money from Vai shop-owners, and we got into a heated argument where by the end, he called me a "Vai-lover". My half-breed friend's dad also owns a shop, and he too had to 'donate' money to the MZP a few times. Had he refused, there was the probablity that the MZP would have issued a statement saying that the shop owner had been very rude to his Mizo customers and they would have trashed the place. When long socks were in fashion, my friend's dad sold them for 25 rupees, at the same price for which he bought them. And Mizo 'Christian' shop owners sold those same socks for Rs. 150.

We say we are afraid of being over-run by Vais. But its a fact that we cannot do without them. The last time trouble of this sort happened, the government granary in Tanhril almost became empty because there was no one to unload the goods. Where then are all those strong, Mizo youths who cry that there are no jobs? And where are they when Vais build the pandals for their YMA and KTP/TKP conferences?

I'm not saying that I'm completely unbiased towards Vais. Getting rid of so many years worth of social conditioning is not easy. But I think it's time to move on. Forgiveness does not mean condoning what the other person did. Its more about letting go of the bitterness that is holding you back from moving forward.

I can't help thinking of the Japanese in this context. Despite what they suffered during WWII, they have moved on. They never forgot what happened at Hiroshima and Nagasaki, but instead of letting it hold them back, they used the tragedy as an impetus to move forward. Why can't we Mizos do the same?

Things are getting better. I remember as a child, when a Mizo girl was raped and murdered by a Vai, Vai-owned shops were trashed and looted and demolished by an angry mob. Incidents of that kind are mercifully absent now, but if a Vai were to venture out, or open their shops right now, there would be a heavy backlash.

I have digressed so far from what I originally intended to write about. Maybe I'll get back to my original topic some other time. For now, I have to call my 'half-breed' friend. Here's hoping that no men in white robes would come to plant a burning cross in our yard for being a "vai-lover".

Legacy

Does the picture look blurry and fuzzy? Don't blame the camera. This is what the view from my house looked like this evening.

On March 5th, 1966, the city of Aizawl went up in flames. Bombs were dropped on the city, and families fled their homes. Fathers, mothers, husbands, brothers and friends were lost. March 5th became Mizoram's State Day, in remembrance of that day when our city became engulfed by an inferno sent by an indifferent, tyrannical ruler.

My grandfather was a soldier of the resistance. He lost his eldest son during this movement. His wife, my grandmother, was imprisoned with the year old son that had been as yet unweaned from her breast. Their children were shunted off to relatives in villages- scared and uncertain of whether they would ever see their parents again.

Our grandfathers fought for a cause, and though that cause may have been misguided, they battled on against heavy odds, because they wanted a better future for their children, and their children's children. Theirs was a noble fight, fought for the betterment of their people. That was the legacy left to us by our ancestors.

And what legacy will we leave to OUR children?

The land that embraced the noble blood of our ancestors is now ravaged and raped by us, their children. We tear down it's forests to make way for our concrete monstrosities; we poison the clear waters that cooled the throats of our braves; we pollute the air that sustained our ancestors; and we scarify the land that inspired our troubadours with its savage beauty.

Today, fire broke out at Beraw Tlang, at the University lands in Tanhril, and In Kanan Veng. City dwellers blame poverty-stricken village farmers for the forest fires that raged on for more than three days at Kawnpui a couple of weeks ago. These farmers make their meagre livings the only way they know, in the only recourse left to them. And we city folks sit in our cushy living rooms, in our big mansions built on mountain edges where no houses should ever have been built. We complain about them polluting the air, as we drive around in our cars, stuck once more in a deluge of traffic.

They ravage the land so that they can live. We ravage our land so that we can boast of our wealth. Which one do you think our Mother would point Her finger at, as the harbinger of Her death?

On March 5th 1966, WE were the victims of an injustice. Our city was engulfed in flames. Our fathers rebuilt it.

This century, we are the perpetrators of the injustice. We barricade ourselves from outsiders, fearing that they may take our land away from us. And yet, and yet... we are the ones who are destroying our land. We are the enemies. We cast indifferent eyes on our Mother as she struggles in Her throes of death.

We are slowly burning up our land with the relentless flames of our greed. Will we leave it to our children to rebuild it? Will there even be a Mizoram to rebuild?

Is this the legacy that we are leaving to our children?

"Did you, did you see the frightened ones

Did you, did you hear the falling bombs?

Did you ever wonder why we had to run for shelter

When the promise of a brave new world

Unfurled beneath a clear blue sky?

Goodbye, blue sky, goodbye" - Pink Floyd

"Did they get you to trade

your heroes for ghosts?

Hot ashes for trees

Hot air for a cool breeze?"- Pink Floyd