I
Open the windows
And let me see,
What the world wishes
For me to see.
Smiles, yes, smiles.
I see children
Coming back from school
Swinging their bags
Back and forth,
And also on the swings
Their faces alit with glee.
I see two lovers
Sitting next to each other
With that look
Of utter solace and
Not a care in the world
So now close the windows,
For I have seen enough
II
Open the windows
And let me see,
What the world wishes
For me to see.
Clouds, a dark haze
That blind my eyes.
I see a black raven
Perch itself on the sill.
It stares at me
As if trying to read me,
Like I would a book.
It stood motionless.
As if struck by fear.
I see a man.
Sulking in his solitude.
Embracing a single black rose.
An emotionless face.
A tear rolls down his cheek.
I sit still
As the dark figure passes.
And disappears into the mist
For maybe I have seen too much
I must now rest my eyes
But keep the windows open
For the day has not ended…
Andrew Ruolngul is 18 years old and lives with his family in Tokyo, Japan. This poem was published in his school's literary magazine. Keep it up, Andrew!
Saturday, September 27, 2008
Sunday, September 21, 2008
Aspects of Mizo Literature - Dr.R.Thangvunga
This paper was presented under the title ‘Mizo literature in relation to other literature’ at the Poets’ Meet cum seminar on Mizo literature in Aizawl between the 3rd – 7th October, 2001. I am indebted to Dr. R. Thangvunga for generously allowing me to publish his essay online.
It may be assumed without fear of much controversy that the literature of the Mizos sprang up independently of the myriad native literature flourishing in this culturally rich nation, an assumption justified by the fact that Mizos are of Tibeto-Burman stock having little or no socio-cultural affinity with either the Aryan or Davidian races or the Austrics who form the bulk of the Indian populace. The long migration of the Mizo people from the T’ao valley in China to their present habitat had matured their cultural and religious life sufficiently for distinction from their neighbours. The long years of isolation from other more civilized people had a preservative effect. The pristine simplicity and naïve innocence of the people is in sharp contrast with the sophisticated and complex attitudes of the more progressive people around them from whose poisonous contact Providence seems to have kept them for a special purpose. This age of innocence is the early period of Mizo literature, a vast oral tradition and valuable heritage which a miracle of gospel event has captured in indelible pages of literary history. It is impossible, in the narrow confine of this introductory essay, to open up the panorama of the virgin songs of a people who are, perhaps, after Wordsworth’s own heart. It is a tempting thought that the earlier pre-Christianized literature possesses more human spirit than the Christianized literature which offered a sheepish hope of an underserved heaven in exchange for the more heroic idea of an earned Pialral (incidentally corresponding to the heroes’ Valhalla or Elysium of similar warlike people elsewhere).
If we assume the soul of all literature to be the whole-blooded expression of man’s heroic response to an environment hostile to his dreams and ideals, one may bravely
assert a pagan literature as superior to a literature of higher inspiration; for heroism remains the highest standard of human worth, and literature “the thought of thinking souls.” G.Wilson Knight observed: “A strong faith tends to render tragedy impossible.” The truth of this statement seems to be only too apparent. This humanistic position, owing allegiance to the empirical or Aristotelian precept, justified itself against the intractable and pontifical ideology of the medieval Church as a pristine force of enlightenment working through th powerful pen of a Milton or a penitent Donne. Christianity and its attendant Faith in the the heroic expiatory sacrifice of Christ had been a popular literary subject of the Renaissance, as exemplified by Spenser’s The Fairie Queene. The spiritual struggles of a believer have never been minimized as an easy pilgrimage and Bunyan’s Pilgrim was not found among the Canterbury pilgrims.
It therefore is essentially inadequate to assume that “a strong faith” is incapable of cathartic experience; for the road to faith is never easy, and many shun it. Religious literature is replete with spiritual conflicts of epic grandeur that the adventures of flesh and bones can never match. It is true, physical pain is usually subordinated when the spirit is elevated in the transcendental experience of a more enduring truth for which the sacrifice is being made. But it is true also that the inner struggle to accept physical pain for a principle, the price of the choice has not been a pleasure either. It is on these twin streams of critical viewpoint that the following lines attempt to highlight a few samples of Mizo literature for your evaluation on a more universal platform. To facilitate such an exercise, we have to rely heavily on available versions of the canon and critical works on the same in English. The following works are indispensable:
1. Tribal Folktales of Assam (Hills) by S.N. Barkakati, containing 69 pieces of Mizo folktales.
2. Folklore I – Folktales of Mizoram by Dr Laltluangliana Khiangte, 1997.
3. Anthology of Mizo Literature by Dr Laltluangliana Khiangte, 2001.
4. Mizo Literature by Dr R.L. Thanmawia, 1998.
5. The Lusei Kuki Clans by Lt. Col. J. Shakespeare, 1988.
A comparative study of Mizo literature with those of others, so desirable and imperative, is beyond the scope of this paper and of my abilities. Any accidental light emerging from random analysis of literary samples below which may reveal certain affinities with the literature of other peoples, kindred spirits showing the elements of common human nature, will more than afford the satisfaction looked for in having accepted this task of making intelligible our native voice.
THE PEOPLE: It is not the place here to decide on a creditable history of the Mizos from available research. Subsequent researches seem to have no better recourse than the pioneer British administrators but available oral folklore and tradition as their source materials. Reference pointing to Mizos in their generic name ‘Kuki’ was made as early as 1512 A.D. by Col. Lewin in his ‘Progressive Colloquial Exercises’ showing that it referred to the dwellers of the so-called Lushai Hills irrespective of clan names.
Mizos lived in a community of 50 – 300 houses with a hereditary chieftain who rules by counsel of advisers called “Upa”(s). Livelihood being dependent on agriculture and hunting for meat, shifting from hill to hill every decade or so, security and development were not known by the Mizos. Surprise raids being the method of war, every young man, even married ones, was on constant alert, and slept in the ‘Zawlbuk’, a kind of club for communal discipline.
Like most tribal communities, Mizos synchronized their agricultural calendar with a number of festivals and religious observances which punctuated their hard life with entertainment, relieving the burden of their hard labour and martial apprehensions. Otherwise, their life was physically, emotionally and spiritually exhausting, a vicious cycle of existence under the shadow of superstitious and moral fears from beast, man and evil spirits.
Contrary to conventional practice of dubbing the religious life of the Mizos as Animistic¹, a comprehensive examination of their religious activities leads me to regard them as being primarily deistic². For they believed in a God of goodwill who is responsible for the creation and preservation of all things, one who is not perturbed by the events of the human world, apart from his having ordained the temporal and spiritual systems which all creation may observe willy-nilly. The moral precepts and taboos bearing on human actions were imputed not so much to God as to a system not unlike the Greek idea of Nemesis, and possessing as impeccable and implacable memory and purpose as the latter. The main rituals of the community were directed to this God. Sacrifices made to appease various evil spirits who caused illness would not constitute a religion because it was not a form of worship, but a kind of anathema or exorcism – items of religious practice.
THE LANGUAGE: The language or languages spoken by the Mizos belong to the Tibeto-Assam branch of the Tibeto-Burman family. The major clans speak different dialects but having strong and direct links to one another. In time the Duhlian dialect of the politically dominant Lusei clan became the lingua franca of the majority of communities under the umbrella of the Mizo nationality. This dialect received a further boost when Christian missionaries arrived in 1894, namely, Rev. F.W. Savidge and Rev. J.H. Lorrain, who reduced the language into writing, using a simple and effective phonetic Hunterian system of Roman script. An earlier attempt to use the Devanagiri script had been made but met with poor results. Though, as Pu Buanga himself confessed, there is something to be desired for a fuller and more developed system of writing, their endeavour has remained totally successful to this day. The language has a phonetic nature like many other Indian languages which, in a script other than the missionaries had rendered it to, would have an array of phonetic characters beyond the ability of the then Mizos to master, with the effect that the present status would never have been attained.
THE LITERATURE: What has come to be admitted as Mizo literature, the older portion of which was in the oral tradition, is a medly of deiifernt dialects unintelligible to modern students. Profuse notes on vocabulary and cultural history cannot be dispensed with. Classification is another problem. Different approaches are possible: chronological, generic, thematic, stylistic or functional. The older, pre-Christian literature is more diverse in nature than the literature after conversion to Christianity. In common with other tribal communities of the country, the very life of society was throbbing with the rhythm of folk literature. The telling of legends and stories, enthusiastic singing of fresh (un-weather-beaten) songs celebrating the latest victory and exploits, riddles and moral fables, reverberating with the sound of guns, and the merry, merry festival days of singing and dancing days and nights, were the central focus of their social life. No joy, no sorrows, no victory, no success in hunting was not but a communal affair. It was all for one, one for all kind of existence the modern world has almost forgotten. Even if Mizo literature does not make itself known for a new and fresh philosophy for man, no one can deny its place at the center of the people’s life for generations as repertory of their inner lives recorded in endless streams of songs. What nation is there who has not a poet for every individual or public occasion? The Mizos are second to none in their love for a song to sing their thoughts!
Folk literature offers tempting historical and anthropological research. Mizo folk literature is no exception: perhaps more tempting in the need for a historical certainty of roots. Beyond that there are legends and myths echoing down the ages pointing to a common knowledge of cataclysmic events like creation, universal flood, universal darkness and cold, dispersion of races and languages, as well as giants and angels, superhumans, giant snakes and birds, dragons, ghosts and hobgoblins, magic and witchcraft, etc. Here are samples of such folklore:
1. The myth of Chhinlung, a cave or stone wall, whence people issued (imputed to be of Mizo origin).
2. The myth of Thim zing, a great darkness enveloping the world, when people were transformed into animals.
3. The myths of Pialral (Elysium), Mitthi khua (Hades), Lunglohtui & Rih Lake (Styx), Pawla (Acheron), all corresponding to belief in after-life.
4. The legend of Palova ( No father) adventuring in quest of his unknown father.
5. The legend of Ngaiteii and her father’s spirit causing a flood to claim her.
6. The legend of Mualzavata, superman.
7. The legend of Chhura with its comic cornucopia.
8. The legend of seven brothers, the youngest Tlumtea, paying court to the lady of the sky. (An allegory of the ideal character for a young man)
9. The legend of Lalruanga the magician.
10. The legend of Chawngchilhi and the Serpent.
11. The story of Liandova and Tuaisiala, orphans triumphant by virtue.
12. The romances of Chala and Thangi, of Duhmanga and Dardini, of Raldawna and Tumchhingi, masterpieces of plot and realism.
Apart from this narrative heritage, it seems appropriate to treat the poetic heritage of the early times as a continuous stream of literary activity.
POETRY: The main characteristic of Mizo poetry is the couplet and triplet stanza forms, with the tune being a kind of formal distinction. Another poet (who is not a singer-poet) may add to the existing poem any number of stanzas. The earliest extant poems correspond to nursery rhymes, a number of them actually used by children at play, chanting them with accompanying actions in play. e.g.
Pang aw inzial inzial, pangpui aw inzial
(Children joining hands would roll into a bundle, and at the line…)
Pang aw inphelh inphelh, pangpui aw inphelh inphelh
(they would unroll again).
Another is accompanied by the music of a number of bamboo tubes of different length being blown upon, each giving the correct pitch. The bamboo may be substituted by small gongs.
Chhimbu leh peng peng intu
A lu lam kawng lu lam kawng.
Liando te unau unau,
Dar ze nge in tum in tum?
It is a common feature of primitive society to possess war-cries and hunting-cries. Mizos had several such cries in the form of proud declarations of victory over a conquered foe whose head was a proud trophy. Such is Bawh hla:
Kei chu e, ka sentet an sa leh doral ka pianpui e,
Ka do e, rimnampa e, thlangchem e, aikim min ti u law.
(Born was I with game and foe,
I kill whom I fought, the smelly one, ‘kill all’ I am.)
And after a successful hunt, Hlado is declared:
Mi an e hrang chi awm e, saah hrang chi awm na ngei a,
Tiau dung e, ka zui changing, kawlkei e, than hawl ka vak liau e.
(Of men heroes there be, of beats wild ones there be,
Along Tiau, on the trail of the tiger, fame follows me)
Tribal communities are rich in festival song and dances. Some such songs are nicely accompanied by appropriate actions or mimes. The Assamese and Garo dances exhibit such virtuosity. Others show the agricultural life-cycle of the community in action. Mizos appear to have had their cultural life abbreviated from attaining artistic elegance of such nature, or that their occupation was too rough and insecure to indulge in the more peaceful art of eurythmics. The most popular dance was Chai performed on really big occasions by young men and women locking arms and shoulders in a big circle, swaying and shifting, singing the song of the day, eg Lalvunga zai:
Lalvunga’n ka lian a ti Farzawl a luah,
A luah sual e changsial sawmthum an la e.
(Lalvunga proudly occupied Farzawl,
A grave mistake, thirty mithuns taken away.)
Songs of victory are heavily tinged with sarcasm and lampoons. Even the plight of a prince became a song:
Ka sen in e, ngunkual ka bun e,
Zoah siahthing Manga’n ka bun e.
(When I was a babe, a brass bangle I wore,
A redwood becomes Manga’s stock.)
There was absolutely no limit to the number of themes for there was a song for everything. Here is a song on the swings:
We made a swing here and everywhere,
Brave is he who slashed it down.
I spied below the plum tree,
The handsome prince Phunchawnga.
We may have seen now that the couplet form was very popular. A triplet became popular with star-crossed romance, the maid usually singing her heart out:
Pining for you the sweet birds’ song I reply,
E’en the soundless night
Refuse my eyelids rest. (Darlenglehi)
A bereaved mother pines for her dead:
Death comes along every hill,
Stopp’d by our ill-fated home,
Dragged my sweet one by the arm. (Darpawngi)
Once a poet/poetess had instituted a new form, it was hailed on every hill, the chiefs enthusiasthically patronizing it. Any number of stanzas on any theme could be superadded.Perhaps the most important factor for the popularity of poets and their songs was that they were sung vocally, and it was a social obligation to keep up with the Joneses of another village.
A late development that became very popular was adaptation of sacred tunes for secular songs. A number of Christian hymnals had been translated, and native worship and praise with local tunes had been ushered in by waves of spiritual revivals. Education and broader outlooks tended to encourage a carefree life. Earlier the still unconverted enjoyed parodying Christian hymns with sarcastic mockery of the converts’ abstinence.Typical themes of literature like love, death, time, and other life exigencies appear in Mizo poetry but in a very brief, unsustained manner. The finality of the triplet seems to exert a strong pause on the thought pattern of a poem so that even a single stanza often contains the wholness of a poem. As such, despite their oral character, the problem of fragments is hardly felt.
Christianity lifted Mizo poetry to a new height of thought and style. The missionaries who came to evangelize the Mizos happened to be good linguists, and their pioneering works on the language and literature helped to put these on a sound footing. Missionaries and their aides began with the translations of English hymnals, and the new converts lost no time in taking the cue. A succession of spiritual revivals produced great religious poets of such powerful visions that would make Milton envious. The vivid and powerful imagery of their poems greatly boosted the faith of believers with beatific visions of the Promised land and the River of Life in the Golden City.
Life on earth was no paradise for the early Mizos. Toil and fear, social inequality under autocratic chiefs, high mortality, taboos and omens took their toll on their minds, weakening them spiritually. It is not to be wondered if the bias of Mizo spiritual songs leans towards the beatific vision, and made little of mortal life. A new convert came to a village apparently for a routine visit, but to witness purposely. Knowing him, the chief denied entry. He could not go through the tiger-infested way back home. While waiting wistfully for the sun to set and darkness to allow him to steal into the village for food and safety, this song came to him:
Ni tla ngai lo Zion khawpui,
Ngaiin ka rum, ka tap chhun nitinin,
Puan ropui sinin an leng tlansate,
Ka tan hmun a awm ve, chu ramah chuan. [Rev. Lianruma]
(Zion city, no setting sun,
With sighs and tears all day long I pine,
In royal robes the redeemed they walk,
A place there is for me in that bright land)
The weight of the poem falls on the acute realization of his plight and suffering, the good fight he was putting up on his way to that final place where he was sure of a welcome. But not all believers are faithful
An nghilh rei lua thing krawsa I tuarna,
An thinlung sual thim rawn chhun eng leh la,
Kian tir ang che, an lawman lei pangpar,
I hruai theihna tur. [Siamliana]
(Too long have they forgotten thy death on the cross,
Illumine their hearts full of sin,
Remove their joys the world’s flowers,
That thou can lead them on.
With such maturity of spiritual concern, Mizo poetry has come of age.
Higher education and readings in great literature fostered a new dream. A new stream of poetry flowed from the minds of educated young men who felt a new calling, altruistic enthusiastists who desired to build their new Jerusalem in these pleasant hills of Mizoram. Their poetry oozes the love of their native hills, rejoicing in the peace and harmony of its nature. Euphoria of discovering a new patriotism is the key of Rokunga’s songs:
Kan zo tlang ram nuam hi chhawrpial run i iang e,
Hal lo ten lungrual a kan lenna,
(Our pleasant hills are like a mansion in the sky,
Where in peace and harmony we live.)
A significant characteristic of this new poetry is the conspicuous reduction of the usual “poetic diction” which, not very unlike the Wordsworthian controversy, has come to be used as a matter of rule, making it somewhat unwieldy. Perhaps in the songs of Rokunga is Wordsworth’s ideal most fulfilled. For there the medium is almost transparent, and invisible, and the poet can speak directly to the heart.
Comparatively, there is something to be desired in Mizo poetry. Superficiality, easily excused as simplicity and spontaneity, is the most obvious. Long isolation had developed an almost impermeable defensive crust in the mentality of the Mizos, rendering them unsophisticated in life and thought. Even the most poignant expression of a wounded heart, such as
Ka chun leh zua suihlung in mawl lua e,
Kan sumtualah Thangdang thlunglu hawihte’n in tar le! [Laltheri zai]
(How unfeeling can you be, parents mine,
To dress our courtyard with the head of my Thangdang!)
spends itself in the too too obviousness of the situation. But in contrast,
Rauthla lengin kan run khuai ang a vel,
Chhunrawl ring lo, ka nu, sawmfang a belin hlui rawh [Laltherei zai]
(A spirit like a bee circles our house
A starved soul, mother, give it the pot of rice)
gives the feeling soul something to feed on. [It was common belief that spirits of the dead, before departing for Mitthi khua, frequent the house in the form of the carpenter bee or a butterfly.] Such allusions are not exceptional as the literature has a rich culture and history to draw upon.
DRAMA: Drama in Mizoram, as in England, began in religious entertainment. Till today, the use of drama is limited to charity shows with social or moral lessons. In this age of home media, there is no expecting people to go to a theatre. However we have a few plays on the lives of historical figues, prominently Pasaltha Khuangchera, Lalnu Ropuiliani and Darlalpuii by Dr. Laltluangliana Khiangte. Mizo colloquial speech, to be realistic, is not the best medium for the quick, witty dialogue of standard drama, especially as used by the characters in these plays. Still the language serves well for the goal of the story and the plots are well managed.
FICTION: Mizos then and now are inverterate lovers of stories, perhaps to the extent detrimental to a profitable life. Handwritten copies of translated novels were often read in groups by young people. World War II facilitated local composition on love themes. The few novels bearing on life in society, however, bear testimony to the writers’ understanding of life and their narrative skills. Of these, the novels of Lalzuithanga Thlahrang and Phira leh Ngurthanpari deserve mention, the former for its skillful plot, and the latter for sustained interest despite its loose plot. One is wistful, however, for a novel sharp enough to slice through layers of frozen moral pretensions and guarded reticence, for a character to explode the unconscious.
Books consulted:
1. Mizo Hun Hlui Hlate, B. Thangliana, Aizawl, 1998.
2. Mizo Kristian Hla thar Bu, Synod Publication, Aizawl, 13th ed., 1988.
3. Mizo Poetry, R.L.Thanmawia, Aizawl, 1988.
4. History of Mizo in Burma, B. Thangliana, Aizawl, 1978.
5. The Lushei Kuki Clans, J. Shakespear, Aizawl, reprint, 1988.
6. Tribal Folktales of Assam, S.N. Barkakati, Guwahati, 1970.
7. Comparative Indian Literature, Vol. I, (Ed.) K.M. George, Macmillan, 1984.
¹ Animism: a belief that within every object dwells an individual spirit capable of governing its existence. Natural objects and phonema are regarded as possessing life, conscience and spirit (soul).
² A system of natural religion which recognizes one God but not a divinely revealed religion.
Dr.R.Thangvunga works in the Mizo dept. of Mizoram University. He had earlier been a Reader in the English dept. of Govt. Aizawl College for several years.
It may be assumed without fear of much controversy that the literature of the Mizos sprang up independently of the myriad native literature flourishing in this culturally rich nation, an assumption justified by the fact that Mizos are of Tibeto-Burman stock having little or no socio-cultural affinity with either the Aryan or Davidian races or the Austrics who form the bulk of the Indian populace. The long migration of the Mizo people from the T’ao valley in China to their present habitat had matured their cultural and religious life sufficiently for distinction from their neighbours. The long years of isolation from other more civilized people had a preservative effect. The pristine simplicity and naïve innocence of the people is in sharp contrast with the sophisticated and complex attitudes of the more progressive people around them from whose poisonous contact Providence seems to have kept them for a special purpose. This age of innocence is the early period of Mizo literature, a vast oral tradition and valuable heritage which a miracle of gospel event has captured in indelible pages of literary history. It is impossible, in the narrow confine of this introductory essay, to open up the panorama of the virgin songs of a people who are, perhaps, after Wordsworth’s own heart. It is a tempting thought that the earlier pre-Christianized literature possesses more human spirit than the Christianized literature which offered a sheepish hope of an underserved heaven in exchange for the more heroic idea of an earned Pialral (incidentally corresponding to the heroes’ Valhalla or Elysium of similar warlike people elsewhere).
If we assume the soul of all literature to be the whole-blooded expression of man’s heroic response to an environment hostile to his dreams and ideals, one may bravely
assert a pagan literature as superior to a literature of higher inspiration; for heroism remains the highest standard of human worth, and literature “the thought of thinking souls.” G.Wilson Knight observed: “A strong faith tends to render tragedy impossible.” The truth of this statement seems to be only too apparent. This humanistic position, owing allegiance to the empirical or Aristotelian precept, justified itself against the intractable and pontifical ideology of the medieval Church as a pristine force of enlightenment working through th powerful pen of a Milton or a penitent Donne. Christianity and its attendant Faith in the the heroic expiatory sacrifice of Christ had been a popular literary subject of the Renaissance, as exemplified by Spenser’s The Fairie Queene. The spiritual struggles of a believer have never been minimized as an easy pilgrimage and Bunyan’s Pilgrim was not found among the Canterbury pilgrims.
It therefore is essentially inadequate to assume that “a strong faith” is incapable of cathartic experience; for the road to faith is never easy, and many shun it. Religious literature is replete with spiritual conflicts of epic grandeur that the adventures of flesh and bones can never match. It is true, physical pain is usually subordinated when the spirit is elevated in the transcendental experience of a more enduring truth for which the sacrifice is being made. But it is true also that the inner struggle to accept physical pain for a principle, the price of the choice has not been a pleasure either. It is on these twin streams of critical viewpoint that the following lines attempt to highlight a few samples of Mizo literature for your evaluation on a more universal platform. To facilitate such an exercise, we have to rely heavily on available versions of the canon and critical works on the same in English. The following works are indispensable:
1. Tribal Folktales of Assam (Hills) by S.N. Barkakati, containing 69 pieces of Mizo folktales.
2. Folklore I – Folktales of Mizoram by Dr Laltluangliana Khiangte, 1997.
3. Anthology of Mizo Literature by Dr Laltluangliana Khiangte, 2001.
4. Mizo Literature by Dr R.L. Thanmawia, 1998.
5. The Lusei Kuki Clans by Lt. Col. J. Shakespeare, 1988.
A comparative study of Mizo literature with those of others, so desirable and imperative, is beyond the scope of this paper and of my abilities. Any accidental light emerging from random analysis of literary samples below which may reveal certain affinities with the literature of other peoples, kindred spirits showing the elements of common human nature, will more than afford the satisfaction looked for in having accepted this task of making intelligible our native voice.
THE PEOPLE: It is not the place here to decide on a creditable history of the Mizos from available research. Subsequent researches seem to have no better recourse than the pioneer British administrators but available oral folklore and tradition as their source materials. Reference pointing to Mizos in their generic name ‘Kuki’ was made as early as 1512 A.D. by Col. Lewin in his ‘Progressive Colloquial Exercises’ showing that it referred to the dwellers of the so-called Lushai Hills irrespective of clan names.
Mizos lived in a community of 50 – 300 houses with a hereditary chieftain who rules by counsel of advisers called “Upa”(s). Livelihood being dependent on agriculture and hunting for meat, shifting from hill to hill every decade or so, security and development were not known by the Mizos. Surprise raids being the method of war, every young man, even married ones, was on constant alert, and slept in the ‘Zawlbuk’, a kind of club for communal discipline.
Like most tribal communities, Mizos synchronized their agricultural calendar with a number of festivals and religious observances which punctuated their hard life with entertainment, relieving the burden of their hard labour and martial apprehensions. Otherwise, their life was physically, emotionally and spiritually exhausting, a vicious cycle of existence under the shadow of superstitious and moral fears from beast, man and evil spirits.
Contrary to conventional practice of dubbing the religious life of the Mizos as Animistic¹, a comprehensive examination of their religious activities leads me to regard them as being primarily deistic². For they believed in a God of goodwill who is responsible for the creation and preservation of all things, one who is not perturbed by the events of the human world, apart from his having ordained the temporal and spiritual systems which all creation may observe willy-nilly. The moral precepts and taboos bearing on human actions were imputed not so much to God as to a system not unlike the Greek idea of Nemesis, and possessing as impeccable and implacable memory and purpose as the latter. The main rituals of the community were directed to this God. Sacrifices made to appease various evil spirits who caused illness would not constitute a religion because it was not a form of worship, but a kind of anathema or exorcism – items of religious practice.
THE LANGUAGE: The language or languages spoken by the Mizos belong to the Tibeto-Assam branch of the Tibeto-Burman family. The major clans speak different dialects but having strong and direct links to one another. In time the Duhlian dialect of the politically dominant Lusei clan became the lingua franca of the majority of communities under the umbrella of the Mizo nationality. This dialect received a further boost when Christian missionaries arrived in 1894, namely, Rev. F.W. Savidge and Rev. J.H. Lorrain, who reduced the language into writing, using a simple and effective phonetic Hunterian system of Roman script. An earlier attempt to use the Devanagiri script had been made but met with poor results. Though, as Pu Buanga himself confessed, there is something to be desired for a fuller and more developed system of writing, their endeavour has remained totally successful to this day. The language has a phonetic nature like many other Indian languages which, in a script other than the missionaries had rendered it to, would have an array of phonetic characters beyond the ability of the then Mizos to master, with the effect that the present status would never have been attained.
THE LITERATURE: What has come to be admitted as Mizo literature, the older portion of which was in the oral tradition, is a medly of deiifernt dialects unintelligible to modern students. Profuse notes on vocabulary and cultural history cannot be dispensed with. Classification is another problem. Different approaches are possible: chronological, generic, thematic, stylistic or functional. The older, pre-Christian literature is more diverse in nature than the literature after conversion to Christianity. In common with other tribal communities of the country, the very life of society was throbbing with the rhythm of folk literature. The telling of legends and stories, enthusiastic singing of fresh (un-weather-beaten) songs celebrating the latest victory and exploits, riddles and moral fables, reverberating with the sound of guns, and the merry, merry festival days of singing and dancing days and nights, were the central focus of their social life. No joy, no sorrows, no victory, no success in hunting was not but a communal affair. It was all for one, one for all kind of existence the modern world has almost forgotten. Even if Mizo literature does not make itself known for a new and fresh philosophy for man, no one can deny its place at the center of the people’s life for generations as repertory of their inner lives recorded in endless streams of songs. What nation is there who has not a poet for every individual or public occasion? The Mizos are second to none in their love for a song to sing their thoughts!
Folk literature offers tempting historical and anthropological research. Mizo folk literature is no exception: perhaps more tempting in the need for a historical certainty of roots. Beyond that there are legends and myths echoing down the ages pointing to a common knowledge of cataclysmic events like creation, universal flood, universal darkness and cold, dispersion of races and languages, as well as giants and angels, superhumans, giant snakes and birds, dragons, ghosts and hobgoblins, magic and witchcraft, etc. Here are samples of such folklore:
1. The myth of Chhinlung, a cave or stone wall, whence people issued (imputed to be of Mizo origin).
2. The myth of Thim zing, a great darkness enveloping the world, when people were transformed into animals.
3. The myths of Pialral (Elysium), Mitthi khua (Hades), Lunglohtui & Rih Lake (Styx), Pawla (Acheron), all corresponding to belief in after-life.
4. The legend of Palova ( No father) adventuring in quest of his unknown father.
5. The legend of Ngaiteii and her father’s spirit causing a flood to claim her.
6. The legend of Mualzavata, superman.
7. The legend of Chhura with its comic cornucopia.
8. The legend of seven brothers, the youngest Tlumtea, paying court to the lady of the sky. (An allegory of the ideal character for a young man)
9. The legend of Lalruanga the magician.
10. The legend of Chawngchilhi and the Serpent.
11. The story of Liandova and Tuaisiala, orphans triumphant by virtue.
12. The romances of Chala and Thangi, of Duhmanga and Dardini, of Raldawna and Tumchhingi, masterpieces of plot and realism.
Apart from this narrative heritage, it seems appropriate to treat the poetic heritage of the early times as a continuous stream of literary activity.
POETRY: The main characteristic of Mizo poetry is the couplet and triplet stanza forms, with the tune being a kind of formal distinction. Another poet (who is not a singer-poet) may add to the existing poem any number of stanzas. The earliest extant poems correspond to nursery rhymes, a number of them actually used by children at play, chanting them with accompanying actions in play. e.g.
Pang aw inzial inzial, pangpui aw inzial
(Children joining hands would roll into a bundle, and at the line…)
Pang aw inphelh inphelh, pangpui aw inphelh inphelh
(they would unroll again).
Another is accompanied by the music of a number of bamboo tubes of different length being blown upon, each giving the correct pitch. The bamboo may be substituted by small gongs.
Chhimbu leh peng peng intu
A lu lam kawng lu lam kawng.
Liando te unau unau,
Dar ze nge in tum in tum?
It is a common feature of primitive society to possess war-cries and hunting-cries. Mizos had several such cries in the form of proud declarations of victory over a conquered foe whose head was a proud trophy. Such is Bawh hla:
Kei chu e, ka sentet an sa leh doral ka pianpui e,
Ka do e, rimnampa e, thlangchem e, aikim min ti u law.
(Born was I with game and foe,
I kill whom I fought, the smelly one, ‘kill all’ I am.)
And after a successful hunt, Hlado is declared:
Mi an e hrang chi awm e, saah hrang chi awm na ngei a,
Tiau dung e, ka zui changing, kawlkei e, than hawl ka vak liau e.
(Of men heroes there be, of beats wild ones there be,
Along Tiau, on the trail of the tiger, fame follows me)
Tribal communities are rich in festival song and dances. Some such songs are nicely accompanied by appropriate actions or mimes. The Assamese and Garo dances exhibit such virtuosity. Others show the agricultural life-cycle of the community in action. Mizos appear to have had their cultural life abbreviated from attaining artistic elegance of such nature, or that their occupation was too rough and insecure to indulge in the more peaceful art of eurythmics. The most popular dance was Chai performed on really big occasions by young men and women locking arms and shoulders in a big circle, swaying and shifting, singing the song of the day, eg Lalvunga zai:
Lalvunga’n ka lian a ti Farzawl a luah,
A luah sual e changsial sawmthum an la e.
(Lalvunga proudly occupied Farzawl,
A grave mistake, thirty mithuns taken away.)
Songs of victory are heavily tinged with sarcasm and lampoons. Even the plight of a prince became a song:
Ka sen in e, ngunkual ka bun e,
Zoah siahthing Manga’n ka bun e.
(When I was a babe, a brass bangle I wore,
A redwood becomes Manga’s stock.)
There was absolutely no limit to the number of themes for there was a song for everything. Here is a song on the swings:
We made a swing here and everywhere,
Brave is he who slashed it down.
I spied below the plum tree,
The handsome prince Phunchawnga.
We may have seen now that the couplet form was very popular. A triplet became popular with star-crossed romance, the maid usually singing her heart out:
Pining for you the sweet birds’ song I reply,
E’en the soundless night
Refuse my eyelids rest. (Darlenglehi)
A bereaved mother pines for her dead:
Death comes along every hill,
Stopp’d by our ill-fated home,
Dragged my sweet one by the arm. (Darpawngi)
Once a poet/poetess had instituted a new form, it was hailed on every hill, the chiefs enthusiasthically patronizing it. Any number of stanzas on any theme could be superadded.Perhaps the most important factor for the popularity of poets and their songs was that they were sung vocally, and it was a social obligation to keep up with the Joneses of another village.
A late development that became very popular was adaptation of sacred tunes for secular songs. A number of Christian hymnals had been translated, and native worship and praise with local tunes had been ushered in by waves of spiritual revivals. Education and broader outlooks tended to encourage a carefree life. Earlier the still unconverted enjoyed parodying Christian hymns with sarcastic mockery of the converts’ abstinence.Typical themes of literature like love, death, time, and other life exigencies appear in Mizo poetry but in a very brief, unsustained manner. The finality of the triplet seems to exert a strong pause on the thought pattern of a poem so that even a single stanza often contains the wholness of a poem. As such, despite their oral character, the problem of fragments is hardly felt.
Christianity lifted Mizo poetry to a new height of thought and style. The missionaries who came to evangelize the Mizos happened to be good linguists, and their pioneering works on the language and literature helped to put these on a sound footing. Missionaries and their aides began with the translations of English hymnals, and the new converts lost no time in taking the cue. A succession of spiritual revivals produced great religious poets of such powerful visions that would make Milton envious. The vivid and powerful imagery of their poems greatly boosted the faith of believers with beatific visions of the Promised land and the River of Life in the Golden City.
Life on earth was no paradise for the early Mizos. Toil and fear, social inequality under autocratic chiefs, high mortality, taboos and omens took their toll on their minds, weakening them spiritually. It is not to be wondered if the bias of Mizo spiritual songs leans towards the beatific vision, and made little of mortal life. A new convert came to a village apparently for a routine visit, but to witness purposely. Knowing him, the chief denied entry. He could not go through the tiger-infested way back home. While waiting wistfully for the sun to set and darkness to allow him to steal into the village for food and safety, this song came to him:
Ni tla ngai lo Zion khawpui,
Ngaiin ka rum, ka tap chhun nitinin,
Puan ropui sinin an leng tlansate,
Ka tan hmun a awm ve, chu ramah chuan. [Rev. Lianruma]
(Zion city, no setting sun,
With sighs and tears all day long I pine,
In royal robes the redeemed they walk,
A place there is for me in that bright land)
The weight of the poem falls on the acute realization of his plight and suffering, the good fight he was putting up on his way to that final place where he was sure of a welcome. But not all believers are faithful
An nghilh rei lua thing krawsa I tuarna,
An thinlung sual thim rawn chhun eng leh la,
Kian tir ang che, an lawman lei pangpar,
I hruai theihna tur. [Siamliana]
(Too long have they forgotten thy death on the cross,
Illumine their hearts full of sin,
Remove their joys the world’s flowers,
That thou can lead them on.
With such maturity of spiritual concern, Mizo poetry has come of age.
Higher education and readings in great literature fostered a new dream. A new stream of poetry flowed from the minds of educated young men who felt a new calling, altruistic enthusiastists who desired to build their new Jerusalem in these pleasant hills of Mizoram. Their poetry oozes the love of their native hills, rejoicing in the peace and harmony of its nature. Euphoria of discovering a new patriotism is the key of Rokunga’s songs:
Kan zo tlang ram nuam hi chhawrpial run i iang e,
Hal lo ten lungrual a kan lenna,
(Our pleasant hills are like a mansion in the sky,
Where in peace and harmony we live.)
A significant characteristic of this new poetry is the conspicuous reduction of the usual “poetic diction” which, not very unlike the Wordsworthian controversy, has come to be used as a matter of rule, making it somewhat unwieldy. Perhaps in the songs of Rokunga is Wordsworth’s ideal most fulfilled. For there the medium is almost transparent, and invisible, and the poet can speak directly to the heart.
Comparatively, there is something to be desired in Mizo poetry. Superficiality, easily excused as simplicity and spontaneity, is the most obvious. Long isolation had developed an almost impermeable defensive crust in the mentality of the Mizos, rendering them unsophisticated in life and thought. Even the most poignant expression of a wounded heart, such as
Ka chun leh zua suihlung in mawl lua e,
Kan sumtualah Thangdang thlunglu hawihte’n in tar le! [Laltheri zai]
(How unfeeling can you be, parents mine,
To dress our courtyard with the head of my Thangdang!)
spends itself in the too too obviousness of the situation. But in contrast,
Rauthla lengin kan run khuai ang a vel,
Chhunrawl ring lo, ka nu, sawmfang a belin hlui rawh [Laltherei zai]
(A spirit like a bee circles our house
A starved soul, mother, give it the pot of rice)
gives the feeling soul something to feed on. [It was common belief that spirits of the dead, before departing for Mitthi khua, frequent the house in the form of the carpenter bee or a butterfly.] Such allusions are not exceptional as the literature has a rich culture and history to draw upon.
DRAMA: Drama in Mizoram, as in England, began in religious entertainment. Till today, the use of drama is limited to charity shows with social or moral lessons. In this age of home media, there is no expecting people to go to a theatre. However we have a few plays on the lives of historical figues, prominently Pasaltha Khuangchera, Lalnu Ropuiliani and Darlalpuii by Dr. Laltluangliana Khiangte. Mizo colloquial speech, to be realistic, is not the best medium for the quick, witty dialogue of standard drama, especially as used by the characters in these plays. Still the language serves well for the goal of the story and the plots are well managed.
FICTION: Mizos then and now are inverterate lovers of stories, perhaps to the extent detrimental to a profitable life. Handwritten copies of translated novels were often read in groups by young people. World War II facilitated local composition on love themes. The few novels bearing on life in society, however, bear testimony to the writers’ understanding of life and their narrative skills. Of these, the novels of Lalzuithanga Thlahrang and Phira leh Ngurthanpari deserve mention, the former for its skillful plot, and the latter for sustained interest despite its loose plot. One is wistful, however, for a novel sharp enough to slice through layers of frozen moral pretensions and guarded reticence, for a character to explode the unconscious.
Books consulted:
1. Mizo Hun Hlui Hlate, B. Thangliana, Aizawl, 1998.
2. Mizo Kristian Hla thar Bu, Synod Publication, Aizawl, 13th ed., 1988.
3. Mizo Poetry, R.L.Thanmawia, Aizawl, 1988.
4. History of Mizo in Burma, B. Thangliana, Aizawl, 1978.
5. The Lushei Kuki Clans, J. Shakespear, Aizawl, reprint, 1988.
6. Tribal Folktales of Assam, S.N. Barkakati, Guwahati, 1970.
7. Comparative Indian Literature, Vol. I, (Ed.) K.M. George, Macmillan, 1984.
¹ Animism: a belief that within every object dwells an individual spirit capable of governing its existence. Natural objects and phonema are regarded as possessing life, conscience and spirit (soul).
² A system of natural religion which recognizes one God but not a divinely revealed religion.
Dr.R.Thangvunga works in the Mizo dept. of Mizoram University. He had earlier been a Reader in the English dept. of Govt. Aizawl College for several years.
Saturday, September 13, 2008
Juvenilia - Mona Zote
He marked the spot
with a precise cross
and brought a chair
to place it there.
He tied the rope
up round the hook
and put the noose
around the neck.
He kicked the chair
down to the floor
and presently
he went to hell.
It had to be
(his mother said)
in all his life
the only thing
that he did well.
Home Going
Making landfall by intimations alone
On the lunatic fringe, in a paper ship,
I fold the accordion of my selves.
Rehearse the fruitless grammar of queens,
Here in the motionless latitude of Ma'rib
That sulks in silence like a rebuked putto.
I sit and finger the apple of my youth,
Turning a face as though blindfolded
To the imprint that a menstrual sun
Has left on the inner scroll of my eye.
The dialogue of two will continue
Unchecked, in the oil-press of the mind
Under the formalaic shade of reason.
At Knossos, having tea with the minotaur,
I saw lightning sew the purses of the sky
And against my will recalled that man,
Reputed for wisdom, as last I saw him,
Seated with the harp smashed across his knee.
Thoughtful, scratching the pale more on his hand.
~~~
Editor's note: As the post title indicates, these poems are very early works of the writer.
Sunday, September 7, 2008
The Great War of Animals
Once a python asked a tortoise to guard her eggs. While the tortoise was guarding the python's eggs, a deer came passing by. The deer said to the tortoise, "Come, let's see if we can jump over the python's eggs." But the tortoise said, "I don't think I can jump over the eggs. If I fall and break them, the python will kill me." The deer replied, "Don't be afraid. If you break the eggs, I'll save you from the python." The tortoise then agreed.
The deer then jumped first and easily jumped over the python's eggs. But the tortoise could not jump over the eggs. He fell on them and broke all the eggs. The deer, who had promised to save him, said, "I am also afraid of the python. I cannot help you. Please run away as fast as you can." But the tortoise could not run fast. He tumbled down and fell on the wall of a bear's house. The bear shouted, "Who is it?" The tortoise answered, "It's me, the tortoise." The bear asked, "Why are you running? What are you afraid of?" The tortoise said, "I am running away from the python. I broke her eggs and I am very afraid. Please help me." But the bear said, "I am also afraid of the python, I cannot help you."
The tortoise went everywhere for help. He went to a tiger, a wild boar, a stag and a wild goat for help. But they were all afraid of the python and could not help him. He tumbled and rolled everywhere. At last, he knocked on the door of a big eagle. The eagle asked, "Who is it?" The tortoise answered, "It's me, the tortoise." "What do you want?" said the eagle. The tortise replied, "The deer and I were trying to jump over the python's eggs. I fell and broke all the eggs. I am very afraid of the python and no one can save me from her anger. So I came here hoping you will save me." The eagle said, "Don't be afraid, I'll help you and save you from the python."
The python went searching for the tortoise everywhere, and asked all the animals she met if they had seen the tortoise. At last she crawled towards the eagle's house with a dreadful sound. The eagle asked, "What's that noise?" The tortoise answered, "It's the python! What should I do now?" The eagle asked the tortoise to quickly hide under his wings. When the python reached the python's house, she asked, "Have you seen the tortoise?" The eagle replied, " No, I have not." But the python did not believe him as the tortoise's trail ended at his house. So she asked him to spread his wings. The eagle spread only one of his wings. The python asked him to spread the other wing as well. But the eagle said, "I cannot spread it because it hurts very badly." The python insisted that he should spread at least a little of it. The eagle then spread the other wing slightly and the python immediately saw the tortoise's tail. She was so angry that she immediately declared war between animals on land and animals on trees.
All the animals that lived on land gathered together to plan the war. And at the same time, all the animals that lived on trees gathered together on a big branch of a banyan tree. They were very busy planning the war. And so began the great war of animals! It started with the python standing up and smashing the branch where the birds were sitting. The birds were so frightened they flew over to a branch on the other side of the banyan tree. Animals that lived on land were so happy that they shouted and jumped with joy when they saw what the python had done.
The python rested for sometime. Then she stood up and again smashed the other branch where all the birds had shifted. The branch came down with a crash! Animals on trees were feeling very defeated and sad while animals on land were shouting with joy. A bat, who was with the birds, thought that the animals on land were going to win the war. He cunningly decided to join them. He flew down and said, "Look at me, look at my head and teeth, I should be on your side." So he fought against animals on trees along with animals on land. They fought the battle very hard. Smaller animals on land were fighting with smaller animals on trees. Bigger animals on land were fighting with bigger animals on trees. All of them fiercely fought the war.
After they had battled for a while, the eagle began to violently shake the python. The python became tired and could hardly move. When the animals on trees saw what was happening with the python, they sang and danced with happiness. The bat once again wanted to belong among the animals on trees. He flew up to them and said, "Look at me. look at my wings. I should be with you."
The war was fought harder than ever before. The python, for the last time stood up and tried to snap the branch once more. But this time she could not break it and instead her body hung loosely on the branch. Just then the eagle saw his chance. He bit the python's spine, broke it and finally killed her. All the animals on trees happily celebrated their victory shouting, "Hurrah! We won!!"
Many years have passed, animals on land and trees have made peace with one another. But the cowardly bat who kept changing sides during the war did not know where to stay. He was so ashamed that he decided to live in a cave during daylight and come out only after dark. This is why we see bats only at night even today.
Taken from Selected Mizo Folk Tales, 2008, published and edited by the English Language Teaching Institute (ELTI), SCERT Mizoram.
The deer then jumped first and easily jumped over the python's eggs. But the tortoise could not jump over the eggs. He fell on them and broke all the eggs. The deer, who had promised to save him, said, "I am also afraid of the python. I cannot help you. Please run away as fast as you can." But the tortoise could not run fast. He tumbled down and fell on the wall of a bear's house. The bear shouted, "Who is it?" The tortoise answered, "It's me, the tortoise." The bear asked, "Why are you running? What are you afraid of?" The tortoise said, "I am running away from the python. I broke her eggs and I am very afraid. Please help me." But the bear said, "I am also afraid of the python, I cannot help you."
The tortoise went everywhere for help. He went to a tiger, a wild boar, a stag and a wild goat for help. But they were all afraid of the python and could not help him. He tumbled and rolled everywhere. At last, he knocked on the door of a big eagle. The eagle asked, "Who is it?" The tortoise answered, "It's me, the tortoise." "What do you want?" said the eagle. The tortise replied, "The deer and I were trying to jump over the python's eggs. I fell and broke all the eggs. I am very afraid of the python and no one can save me from her anger. So I came here hoping you will save me." The eagle said, "Don't be afraid, I'll help you and save you from the python."
The python went searching for the tortoise everywhere, and asked all the animals she met if they had seen the tortoise. At last she crawled towards the eagle's house with a dreadful sound. The eagle asked, "What's that noise?" The tortoise answered, "It's the python! What should I do now?" The eagle asked the tortoise to quickly hide under his wings. When the python reached the python's house, she asked, "Have you seen the tortoise?" The eagle replied, " No, I have not." But the python did not believe him as the tortoise's trail ended at his house. So she asked him to spread his wings. The eagle spread only one of his wings. The python asked him to spread the other wing as well. But the eagle said, "I cannot spread it because it hurts very badly." The python insisted that he should spread at least a little of it. The eagle then spread the other wing slightly and the python immediately saw the tortoise's tail. She was so angry that she immediately declared war between animals on land and animals on trees.
All the animals that lived on land gathered together to plan the war. And at the same time, all the animals that lived on trees gathered together on a big branch of a banyan tree. They were very busy planning the war. And so began the great war of animals! It started with the python standing up and smashing the branch where the birds were sitting. The birds were so frightened they flew over to a branch on the other side of the banyan tree. Animals that lived on land were so happy that they shouted and jumped with joy when they saw what the python had done.
The python rested for sometime. Then she stood up and again smashed the other branch where all the birds had shifted. The branch came down with a crash! Animals on trees were feeling very defeated and sad while animals on land were shouting with joy. A bat, who was with the birds, thought that the animals on land were going to win the war. He cunningly decided to join them. He flew down and said, "Look at me, look at my head and teeth, I should be on your side." So he fought against animals on trees along with animals on land. They fought the battle very hard. Smaller animals on land were fighting with smaller animals on trees. Bigger animals on land were fighting with bigger animals on trees. All of them fiercely fought the war.
After they had battled for a while, the eagle began to violently shake the python. The python became tired and could hardly move. When the animals on trees saw what was happening with the python, they sang and danced with happiness. The bat once again wanted to belong among the animals on trees. He flew up to them and said, "Look at me. look at my wings. I should be with you."
The war was fought harder than ever before. The python, for the last time stood up and tried to snap the branch once more. But this time she could not break it and instead her body hung loosely on the branch. Just then the eagle saw his chance. He bit the python's spine, broke it and finally killed her. All the animals on trees happily celebrated their victory shouting, "Hurrah! We won!!"
Many years have passed, animals on land and trees have made peace with one another. But the cowardly bat who kept changing sides during the war did not know where to stay. He was so ashamed that he decided to live in a cave during daylight and come out only after dark. This is why we see bats only at night even today.
Taken from Selected Mizo Folk Tales, 2008, published and edited by the English Language Teaching Institute (ELTI), SCERT Mizoram.
Monday, August 18, 2008
Mauruangi, Ideal Woman of Mizo Folklore
There are some human qualities that Mizos of all times value highly. These qualities are epitomized in Mauruangi, a folklore heroine. The tale is retold here by Malsawmi Jacob
Folklores express the ethos of a people. They are means of passing on value systems from one generation to another.There are some human qualities that Mizos, both ancient and modern, regard highly.Some of these are courage, patience, perseverance, diligence and skill with work. Along with these, beauty, humility, hospitality and skill in spinning and weaving are considered very desirable in women in particular.
Mauruangi, a legendary heroine, is perhaps the epitome of ideal womanhood. In spite of all imaginable suffering under a callous father and true-to-tradition wicked step mother, she grows up into a lovely woman. She possesses all the virtues, triumphs over all odds and has a happy ending. Here is her life story.
Mauruangi was a little girl who lived with her parents in a village. One day, the parents went out to fetch pumphir (a type of bamboo). On the way they had to cross a wooden bridge that was soft with age and rot. The wife remarked, "How frightening it will be to walk on this bridge when we come back carrying burdens!" The husband responded, "When we come back, whoever is afraid to cross this bridge must be pushed down."
They reached the field and began to pack their loads. The husband tied a heavy bundle for his wife to carry, while he took a light one for himself. When they came to the bridge again, the husband crossed it easily but the wife was afraid to cross. "Remember what I said? The coward has to be pushed down," said he, and pushed his wife down into the river. She fell in the water and turned into a giant catfish.
Meanwhile, Mauruangi was impatiently waiting for her parents to return. When her father came home alone she asked him, 'Father, where is Mother?"
"She is washing my turban in the river," he replied.
Some time later she asked again, "Father, why is Mother taking so long?"
"She is washing clothes," he answered.
Mauruangi kept looking out for her mother but she did not come even when it got dark. She asked her father once again, "Father, why hasn't Mother come home?" He finally told her, "I pushed her into the river because she was afraid to cross the bridge".
At this Mauruangi was heart broken and wept dejectedly.
The next morning, Mauruangi tried to start the fire but all the embers in the fireplace had died out. So she went to the neighbour's house to ask for some. The neighbour was a widow witha daughter named Bingtaii, about Mauruangi's age. When she asked for fire the woman replied, "I will give it only if your father promises to marry me."
Mauruangi ran home and told her father what the woman said. He replied, "Perhaps we will marry some day."
After some time, Mauruangi's father and Bingtaii's mother got married. At first the stepmother treated Mauruangi kindly, but gradually began to ill treat her as time passed. There came a time when she became outright cruel, and did not allow Mauruangi to eat normal food but gave her rice husk. Of course, she could not eat that, and so grew thinner day by day.
One day Mauruangi, grieving for her mother, went to the river. Her mother the catfish saw her and said, "I am your mother. Your father pushed me down here so I became a giant catfish. How are you managing without me? And why are you so thin?"
At this, Mauruangi told her mother all about her life, how her stepmother mistreated her and starved her. The giant catfish gave Mauruangi a good meal of rice and meat and sent her home, telling her to come back whenever she was hungry.
The stepmother pampered and spoiled her own daughter. Bingtaii slept when she pleased, sat when she pleased, and went roaming when she pleased. But Mauruangi was given harsh treatment, made to do all the hard work and starved. In spite of all this, she looked healthy and well fed. This made the stepmother curious, and she said to her daughter, "How is it that Mauruangi looks so fat and healthy though I give her only husk to eat? Find out and tell me."
So Bingtaii started spying on Mauruangi. When she saw her stealing away towards the river she followed at a distance, and watched as she ate the food served by the catfish. She went back to her mother and reported, "I have found out how Mauruangi got fat. She goes to the river, where a big fish gives her rice and meat to eat."
On hearing this, the step mother persuaded her husband to call the men together to catch the giant catfish. When Mauruangi heard it she ran ahead to her mother and told her their plan and said, "When they come to catch you, if I shout 'Run up the river', run down it. And if I shout 'Go to the middle', go to the side."
When the men arrived and chased the giant catfish, Mauruangi shouted, "Mother, run up!". The men ran up the river on hearing this, but the catfish ran downstream. Then she shouted "Run to the middle!" but the catfish swam to the side. This went on. The men were confused by Mauruangi's directions and the catfish would escape meanwhile, so they could not catch her. At last some one shouted, "It's because of that little girl. Gag her with a rag and take her away." So they gagged Mauruangi and led her away. They soon caught the giant catfish after that.
The village folk feasted on the fish's meat but Mauruangi refused to eat it. Instead, she collected the bones and buried them in the garden. A plant sprouted out of the bones, grew into a phunchawng¹ tree and bloomed profusely. Mauruangi, starving again, would stand under the tree and sing :
“Bend down, O, my mother,
Mother phunchawng Darnghiangi,
Bend down, O, my mother.”
At this, the branches would bend down low enough for the girl to reach, and she would suck nectar from the flowers.
Once more, the stepmother noticed that Mauruangi was looking healthy again. She said to her daughter, "Mauruangi's fish mother is dead and eaten. But some one must be feeding her, she is growing fat again. Find out and tell me". Bingtaii again spied on her stepsister and found out the secret. She ran to her mother and said, "Mauruangi sucks nectar from the phunchawng flowers in the garden, that is how she gets fat. She stands under the tree and sings, then the branches bend down and she drinks the nectar."
On hearing this, the stepmother persuaded her husband to cut down the tree. He called the neighbours together and they chopped at it with their axes. All the while Mauruangi stood near by singing—
“Hold on, O, my mother,
Mother phunchawng Darnghiangi,
Hold on, O, my mother.”
The tree held on fast and refused to fall. The cuts they made on it kept filling up again. Some one shouted "Gag that girl with a rag and take her away". So they gagged Mauruangi and led her away, and they felled the tree without any more trouble.
Though ill treated and starved, Mauruangi somehow grew up along with her stepsister Bingtaii. It was now time for both of them to start cultivation work. The stepmother said, "Now it is time for you both to cultivate crops, so go and choose a patch for yourselves". Then she gave the best seeds to her daughter to sow in her field, but gave the worst, worm eaten ones to Mauruangi. They both set out to the fields.
Bingtaii, used to being idle, did not work at all but lay in the shelter, fried and ate the dry maize meant for seed, and lazed about all day. Mauruangi, on the other hand, laboured hard. When evening came and they went home, Bingtaii told her mother, "I was working hard but Mauruangi did not work but lazed all day." The stepmother scolded Mauruangi and called her a lazy good for nothing. But she just kept quiet.
As Mauruangi worked diligently every day, her field thrived and yielded crops. But Bingtaii's field had nothing but weeds growing. One day, some men passed by Mauruangi's field while she was working. They were the servants of vai lalpa (lord of plains men). As they were hungry, they asked Mauruangi if she would let them have some cucumber and maize. She replied, "By all means, eat as much as you wish". She plucked some of the best ones and gave them. They were very pleased at her kindness and hospitality. Before parting they said, "We are in search of a wife for our master. Would you be willing to marry him?"
"My stepmother will not allow me, as she has her own daughter to marry off. So the only way out is, come to our house and ask for Bingtaii's hand. I will follow to see her off, and after passing the village you can leave her and take me along instead."
So that evening the men came and asked for Bingtaii to be their master's wife. Her mother was very pleased, and sent her with them the next day. The mother told Mauruangi, “See your sister off, Mauruang. You can’t even get a husband for yourself, so be happy for her!” So Mauruangi followed the party as if to bid Bingtaii goodbye. When they passed the village, the men dropped Bingtaii, whom they were carrying, and carried Mauruangi instead. Bingtaii went back home crying.
Vai lalpa was very happy when he saw Mauruangi. They got married and started living together happily. But the step mother was burning with anger and jealousy at Mauruangi's good fortune, and plotted evil against her. She sent a message that said, "Let Mauruangi come home for a few days, we are going to kill a pig." Mauruangi went.
One day, the stepmother was sitting at her loom when she called out to Mauruangi, "I have dropped my quill under the house. Go and pick it for me." (Porcupine quills were used for picking and straightening thread while weaving. Mizo houses were built on stilts, with crushed bamboo for floor). As Mauruangi was looking for the quill, the stepmother poured boiling water on her and she died. Her body was thrown out among the bushes. A serow found the dead body, blew on it and brought it back to life, and employed her as his baby-sitter.
Meanwhile, vai lalpa missed his wife who had been absent for such a long time. So he sent his servants to bring her back. When they reached Mauruangi's old home and asked for her, the stepmother presented Bingtaii to them. "Here is your master's wife, you may take her back," she told them. The men answered, "No, this one is not our master's wife. She is different." But Bingtaii's mother insisted that she was the person, so they had to carry her home to their master.
One big toe of Mauruangi, which did not get wet when the stepmother poured hot water on her, turned into a little bird. As the servants carried Bingtaii, the little bird flew behind them and sang—
“Don't carry her, don't carry her,
She's Bingtaii, not Mauruangi,
Bump her bottom, bump!”.
The men then bumped her on the ground. Bingtaii scolded and cursed the little bird.
When they reached home, their master looked at his supposed wife and said, "No, this is not my wife. Just see how round her face is, and how red her nose!" Then he had an idea. "My wife was very good at weaving. Give her the loom and see how well this one can weave." So they gave her Mauruangi's loom, but Bingtaii could not weave at all. The little bird came and sang to her :
“The top strands, put them down below
Lower strands, bring them up above
I say ir liak ir liak e.”
Bingtaii was annoyed and tried to hit the little bird with a stick saying, "You noisy bird, keep quiet!" But try as she might, she could not work the loom at all and had to put it away.
One day as vai lalpa's servants were passing through the woods, they heard a woman's voice singing inside a cave. The voice sounded like their old mistress's, so they looked in to see. Sure enough, there was Mauruangi, rocking the serow's baby to sleep and singing :
“Once was I a vai lalpa's wife.
But today a serow's nursemaid.
A i e i u aw aw.”
Greatly surprised but happy, the men addressed her and asked her how she came to be there. Mauruangi narrated how her stepmother killed her and how the serow brought her back to life. They tried to take her home at once, but she said, "Please wait for the serow to come home and ask his permission." When the serow came back from work, he was afraid to get into the cave when he saw the men. But they called him in a friendly tone. When he finally came in they said, "This lady, your baby sitter, is our master's wife. May we take her back home? We will give you a lot of money in return." The serow replied, "If she is so, take her back. I do not care for money. I will be satisfied with a bunch of bananas." So they gave him a bunch of bananas and carried Mauruangi home.
When they got back to the master's house, he was very happy to see Mauruangi. He wanted to get rid of the impostor, and decided to let the two women fight a duel. He covered Mauruangi with a thick new blanket and gave her a sharp sword. But he wrapped Bingtaii in thin clothes and gave her a blunt sword. When they were ready, Mauruangi said to her step sister, "Cut me first." Bingtaii hit her with the sword but could not hurt her at all. Then Mauruangi attacked and killed her with the sharp sword.
Then Mauruangi and vai lalpa lived together again.
The theme of a lovely, sweet natured, virtuous girl harassed by a wicked step mother seems to be of universal interest. Mauruangi may be seen as representing her western counterparts, the fairy tale heroines like Cinderella and Snowwhite. Like them, she also finds escape from her hard life in marriage to a 'prince'.
¹ Silk cotton tree
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