Tag: speakyourrootschallenge

  • Ko Pyrthei Shongbasa da i Vianney B. Nongrum

    Ko pyrthei shongbasa,

    ngam bynnud iapha.

    Ki riewshetkylla, ki

    riewharam, ki riew khwan

    lalot suda, nga lah i

    ngiah shisha.

    Sa tang ka jingpihuiñ,

    sa tang ka jingbishni,

    shisha la dap da ka jingijli.

    Mynsiem isynei,

    mynsiem ia tiplem,

    lah tyllep khlem

    jingsngewrem.

    Ah, ko jingim ioh pha ong

    ba nga bynnud ia ka pyrthei;

    Em hynrei nga puson ia

    kaei ba nga pynsepei.

    Ban ngan da ioh ban kheit

    ia kiei kiei ba nga lah duh;

    ngan Jin da kmen da jingsahuh.

    -Vianney B. Nongrum

    Original Khasi poem "Ko Pyrthei Shongbasa" by @vi.vianney_nongrum_b 😄😄😄 Thank you for this thought provoking poem!

    The poem talks about the world as a temporary home. How betrayal, ingratitude and selfishness has marred human existence. Compassion and conscience have disappeared. She says to life that she thinks about what is lost; if only she could get them back how happy she would be.

  • U Men Lyngkhung

    Ha ri Khasi, hyndai ki ong,

    u don u men lyngkhung;

    kat shaba leit u kieng iarong,

    ka khoh u kit kyndung.

    U don ki tmaiñ ba jrong shipruh,

    ka khlieh kaba syllen.

    U kyllan khleiñ ba kan mih shñiuh,

    u tah d'u sohmynken.

    La sat syllang um lah shah shuh

    teng teng u shad kulmar.

    Ani! Ynnai… ka kwah mih shñiuh,

    pleng dei kaba jynjar!

    Rough translation:

    "There once was Men Lyngkhung,

    in Khasi times of old.

    Wherever he went he carried his iarong

    and a huge khoh on his back.

    His beard and moustache were a feet long

    and his head was bald.

    He applied fat on his head hoping it would revive some hair.

    He even used chilli!

    Oh the heat on his head, he couldn't bear it!

    He danced in a frenzy…

    My goodness! Oh no! This wanting hair

    is much too difficult!"

    "U Men Lyngkhung" 😃😃😃 Remember those days when we were kids, how we would sing this? Another song that we should teach our kids!

  • Janor

    The Khasi word "Janor" means the mind and its reasoning power. In colloquial conversation it may refer to the brain. The actual word for brain is "Jabieng".

    Covid times conversation: a guy was frustrated trying to explain vaccination and said: "Uuuuu, ka janor ba kot tang shi peris! Ba lah ong ruh sa katno ban ong biang, ban iada ialade, ka iada ia kiwei ruh!”

    Rough translation: "Uuuuu, a brain that has the depth of a saucer! I've said that it will protect you and it will protect others too!”

    "Janor" sent by @longnamkharpuri 😂😂😂 The "Janor" is inside the "Maloi" and so is the "Jabieng". Thank you for bringing this up in the "Maloi" comments! 💀💀💀

    Loving the analogy between the mind and the saucer! 🤣🤣

  • Review of “The Legend of Ka Noh ka Likai” by Lapdiang Syiem

    Lapdiang Syiem’s Dramatisation of The Legend of Ka Noh Ka Likai: A Review by Dr. Amanda C. Tongper and Dr. Daiarisa Rumnong

    Nothing prepared us for the phenomenon which is Lapdiang Syiem. As we were ushered in into the enclosed space at Dylan’s Café, we were greeted by a figure framed atop a mula, transfixed with a baby in her arms. We stopped for a second, looking for traces of life in that mannequin of a being even though we knew at the back of our minds, that it is the actor, Lapdiang Syiem.  The first achievement of the actor was accomplished in the very first seconds of the play, as we later realised that we did not just enter the room where the performance was to take place – we were pulled into the orbit of the actor with a grip that was to hold us for the rest of the performance. 

    Lapdiang, through the character of Likai, pried open the tragic story of Ka Noh Ka Likai that has been encapsulated in time and brought to light relevant social issues muted within a tale that we have come to take for granted. Likai asked the audience bitterly if they wanted to hear her tale told again and spat a reverberating “Phuit!” With the strong and clever twist of the condemning act of spitting, the actor immediately convinced the audience that they must wake up from their complacent indifference to a story repeated time and again. The spit cautioned the audience that in this re-telling, they cannot rely on their rote-memory of the story. The spit challenged the collective conscience of the audience who may have known the narrative of Ka Noh Ka Likai, but has never thought to understand the story of Ka Likai, the being with thoughts and emotions of her own.

    Lapdiang Syiem’s performance provokes a fresh look at the oft-told story of Likai. Entering the venue, the image of Lapdiang whose face was covered by a mask, holding a baby seemed to be suspended in purgatory, adrift in limbo. The image is at once a detonating symbol. It evokes the pre-conceived notion that a woman is pitiable, weak, unsettled on her own and a man is her only anchor. This notion that rises from a deep-seated, almost genetic conditioning remains such an inescapable factor even in this 21st  century stage of our lives. The orbit we were drawn into had a familiar ring to it. But were we looking hard enough to notice the reflection we should see of ourselves; of how much the motif of a woman jumping to her death actually echoes all those stories of violence, dispossession and death?  Why is it that a woman is expected to be tied to a man? Why does a part of a so-called “binary” cannot exist alone? In the performance of Ka Noh Ka Likai, Likai after living as a widow was told by other women in her community that she should marry another man. A man it appears embodies security. However, this “security” that society perceives as normal or good may actually lead to irrevocable despair.  

    The only device that aided Lapdiang’s performance was the music played by Apkyrmen Tangsong. Apkyrmen played original compositions on the maringud, ksing and besli. All three instruments moulded themselves into the performance, even eerily voicing out the muffled cries

    of Likai’s baby. The poignant and haunting pieces feel like the past knocking on our foreheads saying: “Don’t get too comfortable, too familiar with showing me off. Try to understand my relevance for the present and even the future!” The music, words and gestures of the performance swayed the audience, dug out tears, drawing us breathless with questions that perhaps are desperate to break free. It made us feel uncomfortable…in all the right places.

    In Lapdiang’s performance, there is a curious blend of acting and telling, so that one is compelled to say, the oral is still with us. One usually speaks of the oral tradition with a sense of

    nostalgia, as a thing of the papyral past. However, with Lapdiang’s performance, one witnesses that this form of communication has never really left us. We only have to engage with it once again. The gusts and ripples of ka Ka Noh Ka Likai echo everyday, do we listen?

    As the play came to its end, there was silence among the audience. It was a sacred moment to watch Lapdiang give Likai life with such heart, strength and intelligence.

     

    Lapdiang Syiem is a force to be reckoned with.  

    Lapdiang A. Syiem was born and brought up in Shillong. She is a graduate from National School of Drama, Delhi with a specialisation in Physical Theatre from the Commedia School, Copenhagen. In 2016, Lapdiang, along with Keshav Pariat and Juban Lamar founded an artistic commune called, The Unhinged Commune. They blog regularly at kinongbamsohlah.wordpress.com

    This is a review of a fantastic and heart-wrenching performance by @lapdiangsyiem of "The Legend of Ka Noh ka Likai" in 2017. Folktales transformed into theatre is something else! 💫💫💫

    The review was published in @eclectic_northeast magazine and has been written by Dr. Daiarisa Rumnong (Assistant Professor, St. Mary's College) and Dr. Amanda C. Tongper (Assistant Professor, St. Anthony's College).

    Thank you @lamar.juban for the beautiful pictures used in this review!

    Please send an email to speak.your.roots@gmail.com if you would like to read the review!

  • Maloi

    The Khasi word "Maloi" has come to gain the status of an urban slang in common parlance. "Maloi'" actually means the coconut shell and "Maloi khlieh" means the skull. Nowadays the word "Maloi" has gained a different meaning altogether implying the fun, laughter and crackpot experiences shared between friends. Besides this, the word is also used when someone says something silly or stupid like: "Nili uto uwei te lah maloi shisha phi." It is also used as a term of endearment between friends: "Ei maloi!" "Oi malois!"

    The Khasi word "Maloi" has attained a life of its own and is now used widely in conversation between friends and family 😂😂😂 Don't we love our Malois! ❤️❤️❤️🤡🤡🤡🤡

    Tag your Malois! 😄😄

  • Bam Hati, Kit Kulai

    Ka jingong "Bam hati, kit kulai" ka kren shaphang u briew uba pynlut ïa ka pisa palat ïa ka jingkamai kajih jong u. Ka rukom im ka long kaba im pahuh, khlem pyrwa ïa ka jingduna ka pisa tang ban ïoh pynhun ïa ka jingkwah bad jingtynneng ka bym donkam ha ka jingshisha.

    The Khasi phrase "Bam hati, kit kulai" describes a person who lives off more than he earns or someone who spends more than he can afford. The phrase is "Bam hati, kit kulai" and is translated as "Eat like an elephant, slog like a horse". So one literally eats more than he can buy, with the burden of not having the means to continue living in the same lavish lifestyle.

    When you don't bother about the budget and go overboard spending it all 😅😅 "Bam hati, kit kulai" 🐘🐎🐘🐎 sent by @reuben_lamiaki_kynta Thank you for this entry!

    Khasi and English explication by @speakyourroots

  • Netaji’s connection to Shillong

    Netaji had a special association with Shillong and had visited the town thrice in his lifetime. Highly impressed by the democratic functioning of the Khasi states when he came for the first time in September 1938, Netaji had remarked, "Those who want to know about democracy should come to Khasi Hills."

    Thank you @othnielpyngrope for bringing this up in the conversation on the post commemorating the death anniversary of U Tirot Sing. 👍👍🙏🙏

    Source: https://m.timesofindia.com/city/guwahati/shillong-remembers-netaji-subhash-chandra-bose/articleshow/18159440.cms

  • Ban u Sam At

    The Khasi phrase "Ban U Sam At" is translated as being held down or pressed on by "U Sam At". According to what is said, "U Sam At" is an imp who causes a person to become immobile even though they have woken up from sleep. The motive of the imp is only to render a person helpless but not to kill them.

    This is something most of us have experienced. We wake up and try to move but we can't. Our mind is conscious but our body is still in a state of sleep! This is described as sleep paralysis: a temporary inability to move or speak when falling asleep or upon waking.

    Thank you @evandanoradkhar for bringing this up! 👍

    "Ban U Sam At" is a phenomenon which happens to most of us 😅😅 It can be terrifying and even claustrophobic at times. And among the Khasis we have given it a name! 😳😳😨😨

    Picture: Wikipedia

  • Literature and education among the Khasis: Excerpt from E. Weston Dkhar

    The following are two excerpts from the introduction of the book Primary Education in the Khasi and Jaiñtia Hills: Its Socio-Cultural Roots and Early History (1993) written by E. Weston Dkhar and published by Sevenhut S. Enterprise, Shillong.

    Regarding the education of the people we have but one traditional version explaining why the ancient Khasis failed to possess a written literature. According to tradition, the Khasis had a book or literature. While crossing the river to meet God for instruction in certain rites and duties, the man of the Plains or U Dkhar (as the Khasis generally call him), tied the book on the crown of his head, while the Khasis swallowed it to preserve it in his belly and that was the simple reason why he did not have a written literature. This version has close resemblance and similarity to the traditional version of the Tribes of Rwong and Lisu inhabiting the North-Eastern part of Indo-Burma, adjacent to the Red Chinese, who had long been isolated from the rest of the world by mountain barriers and thick forests. In explaining why they failed to possess a written literature, they too relate that long ago they had had in possession a book written on cow-hide; but it was eaten up by a hungry dog while an old man, the custodian, was drying it in the sun: and that explains why they failed to have any literature at all.

    Some writers assume that this entire absence of literature clearly suggest a long period of isolation from more civilized races. The statement in all probability holds little truth: for, the Khasis since time immemorial had intermingled with other civilized races of India either through commercial activities or political contacts. The absence is absolutely due to the fact that the Khasis believed wholeheartedly that it was just the same thing for him to have the book in his belly as in his hand. Moreover, our forefathers had a peculiar belief that "We Khasis are a special people: others must read to understand, while we have an infallible guidance from within.'' They went also to the extent that “We Khasis need no education, as we have 'Swallowed' all knowledge.”

    The Khasis had for a long long time acquainted themselves with the knowledge of many different branches of arts and sciences. with the handicap of not knowing about the art of writing and reading they yet marvellously advanced in the science of astronomy, medicine and metallurgy. Regarding astronomy, the Khasis of yore created a number of interesting stories about the stars and heavenly bodies like the sun and the moon. The story of the Sun and Moon and their subjugation to periodical eclipse, is one of the most interesting. Naming of some stars was also attempted at, for example, U Lur Mangkara – Pole Star, U Lur Step – Morning star, U Lurdihduma – Comet, U Lur Ruhsyiar – The Great Bear, Ka Lynti Phan – Milky Way, U Lur Tynriew – Little Bear etc. Sometimes they forecast the weather with the help of some stars as their barometer. In the field of medicine they discovered many wild herbs and natural substances which cured many kind of diseases. Besides, they knew the art of weaving and spinning, and the art of erecting monuments, monoliths, memorial stones and cromlechs.

    Since time immemorial the Khasis were highly advanced in monographic literature. One can witness the monographic pictures on the rock at Dainthlen Falls where the Khasis are believed to have killed a huge demoniac python long time ago which had created a great havoc in the history of the Khasi race. At the Durbar (Assembly) at Synrang Jyrteh, believed to be the meeting place of, many nations and nationalities, it was decided to cut the python into pieces and each one would eat his allotted share of the python's flesh so that the creature instantly died according to an oracle. To celebrate the victory they carved on the rock pictures of that grand occasion, which remains intact even today.

    Continuing with the story of how the Khasis lost their script, here are excerpts from the introduction of the book Primary Education in the Khasi and Jaiñtia Hills: Its Socio-Cultural Roots and Early History (1993) written by E. Weston Dkhar and published by Sevenhut S. Enterprise, Shillong.

    The excerpts discusses the significance of the story of the lost script and the innate knowledge and wisdom of the Khasis, with monographic pictures appearing on the rock at Daiñ Thlen Falls, Sohra.

    E. Weston Dkhar is a prolific author of several books focussing on Khasi folklore and history.

  • Nga Kynmaw/ I Remember

    That is why the Khasi stories always begin with "When man and beasts and stones and trees spoke as one…." This shows the Khasi world view, that sees the universe as a cosmic whole that receives its animation and force from the one living truth, their God, U Blei.

    Around the Hearth, Kynpham Sing Nongkynrih

    They say that long before the written word arrived in the mystical hill state of Meghalaya in Northeast India, an ancestor lost the manuscript that contained the religious and philosophical scripts of the Khasis as dictated by God. Descending from the great summit after meeting God, the ancestor came across a raging and turbulent river. He clenched the manuscript between his teeth as he tried to swim, but being from the hills, he was not adroit at swimming such torrid waters. He bobbled midstream and the manuscript was reduced to mush, which he swallowed. He managed somehow to return home empty-handed, and recounted his plight to his clansmen, assuring them that he could still recite God's word to them. The clans convened a council of members where the ancestor instructed them on the laws and teachings of God. It was from here, they say again, that the Khasi traditions of storytelling originated. Bah Kynpham Sing Nongkynrih's Around the Hearth: Khasi Legends brings alive the history and traditions of Khasi storytelling. The Khasis developed a script only as recently as 1842, thanks to Welsh missionary Thomas Jones. Their language and tradition of oral storytelling, though, has survived for centuries among a people of soft yet strong disposition who believe supremely in the symbiotic relationship between nature and man. Who live in the shelter of clouds above pine trees, lush green mountains, and share songs and poetry warmly around the fires of their hearth.

    "Nga Kynmaw/ I Remember" sent by Randeep Baruah @rondeview_ 💭🗯️💬Thank you Sir for this valuable reminder on the oral tradition of the Khasis! 🙏🙏

    Taking his inspiration from Around the Hearth: Khasi Legends (Folktales of India)(2007) written by Kynpham Sing Nongkynrih, Randeep talks about the story of the lost of script of the Khasis that he recounts from Nongkynrih's book. It is a story that cements the power of story-telling and the art and truth contained in the oral tradition. May the words we speak echo the spirit of our forefathers, who with a wisdom of the ages laid down the roots of our intrinsic bond with nature.

    Randeep Baruah is a writer and communications designer.

    Picture credit: @rondeview_