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POST script
JUNE 03, 2012

SEVEN SISTERS

NELit review

FIFTH

WALL
UDDIPANA GOSWAMI
Literary Editor

Old voices and new: literature from Arunachal

Arunachal Pradesh is steadily making its presence felt in the sphere of Indian English literature, says Bipin Patsani
RUNACHAL Pradesh, like other states of the Northeast, has a treasure trove of tribal myths and folklores in the form of oral literature, waiting to be explored. Creative writing in this remote hilly state, though not so broadly pursued as a literary activity as in Assam, West Bengal and Manipur because of the absence of a unanimously accepted native language, has over the years flourished remarkably, thanks to the likes of Yeshe Dorjee Thongchi, Lummer Dai and Mamang Dai. Mamang, one of the finest English poets and novelists from the region, has already carved a place for herself on the national and international scene. YD Thongchi and Lummer Dai, held in high esteem for their pioneering prose writings in Assamese, have penned down the hard times their people went through when road connectivity was scarce, women were powerless, and social evils such as superstitions ruled their psyche. Coming from the Sherdukpen tribe of West Kameng district, Thongchi had his early education in Assamese medium and graduated in Assamese literature from a prestigious college in Assam. His Assamese novel Mouno Ounth Mukhar Hriday won him the Sahitya Akademi Award in 2005. He is also a recipient of the Kalaguru Bhishnu Rabha Award and the Basudev Jalan Bota 2010, the latter given by Asom Sahitya Sabha. Thongchi has so far authored seven novels and three collections of short stories based on the lives of different tribes of Arunachal Pradesh. His most popular novel, Sonam, has been made into an award-winning film. Sonam (1981), Thongchis debut novel, was translated into English by Mridula Baruah of Assam in 2001. The story of the novel revolves around the polyandry system, followed by the Brokpas, a section of the Monpa tribe, where a woman is allowed, sometimes compelled, to marry more than one man. Thongchi is the president of Arunachal Pradesh Literary Society, of which Mamang Dai is the general secretary. The Society meets on the capital complex at weekends and regularly organises workshops, seminars and poetry readings to inspire young talent. Mamang, a former civil servant from the Adi tribe and now a freelance journalist, has written two

The rising sun

poetry spectacular is his introspective and rebellious tone. While doing so, he exploits the Nyishi/Abo Tani myth of man and tiger being brothers. In the title poem of his collection, The Man and the Tiger, he writes: A mere flow of blood in veins, a genetic identity Will not suffice to call a brother, my brother. * * * So the tiger must stalk in the forest To kill and spill blood for blind appetite. His disappointment with the ugly environment of corruption everywhere: The other day I decided to fight the system/ that is corrupt. But the next moment I shirked to find That I had to fight my own brothers/ who man the system. (A Person of Consequence, p.42) Yumlams poetry is witty, evocative and strikingly original.

missed the way And reached a continent? (Song of the Happy Cripple /Indian Scholar, Jan 1981) It is in the magic mountains and woods of Arunachal that he finds redemption: Missing the way in the woods/ I was afraid with anticipations, But now I myself am lost in its vastness, / Its ferocity and loveliness In which I redeem. (Falling Again/ Indian Scholar, Jan 1981) Patsani has published three poetry collections in English Voice of the Valley (1993), Another Voyage and Homecoming (2010), and two others are ready for the press This Life, This Death and The Bitter Canto. Man Mohan Nayak, another poet from Odisha working in Arunachal Pradesh as a teacher, has to his credit two poetry books in English Scattered Thoughts and Ritzy Ripples, both published in 2001. Sometimes he broods on the vanity of human behaviour. Sweet memories/ are bruised and buried Under the burden/ of worldly worries. Now, neither you nor I/ do ever try To fill the unwanted void Created cumulatively/ after the matrimonial tie. (Falling From Paradise/Ritzy Ripples) Ram Chandra Chutia has co-authored a book of poems. Dr Jogendra Nath, former principal of Rang-Fra College, Changlang, has written stories on local themes and a biography. Among others whose poems, stories and critical writings have been published in different journals are KC Mishra, Asim Padhi, N Nagaraju, GS Jha, P Nath and Juri Dutta. Bhaskar Saikia writes nice poems and publishes them on the Internet. There are some others like BN Singh, Raman Sandilya, NN Bora and Pradip Kumar Behera (editor, The Arunachal Front) who have published their writings either in English or in their mother tongues. It is a matter of delight that several literary groups are meeting regularly in different parts of Arunachal Pradesh to share the joy of creative writing, inspiring one another to contribute to the growth of literature in this part of the country. And the quest continues, the quest for identity, for the meaning and purpose of living. T

IKE Meghalaya, giving Arunachal Pradesh a Sanskritised name was one of the ways in which the Indian State sought to give the land of the rising sun a more mainstream identity. However, most of what today comprises the state has been relegated behind inner lines and named backward and/or excluded tracts since the colonial period. Even in the postcolonial period, Arunachal has hardly ever found any space in the national imagination except at those times when the spectre of Chinese invasion has manifested itself or there have been indirect disputes with the neighbouring giant in the form of politically incorrect maps, stapled visas, denied official visits, and so on. Its refugee problems, underdevelopment, identity politics, trespassing insurgents and border disputes with the adjoining states and ecological hazards in the form of mega dams have not been able to create much of a buzz. A margin within the marginalised Northeast, Arunachal has nonetheless remained one of the most peaceful states in the country. And in this perhaps, it holds up a lesson for the other states of the Northeast. As Yumlam Tanas poetry which we carry in this issue of NELit review shows, the anger and the agony are all there. The consciousness of a distinctive identity, the angst associated with marginalisation, all of it is reflected in the contemporary literature emanating from Arunachal. Bipin Patsani gives us an overview of this literature in our Frontispiece. And yet, the Arunachalis have never taken to arms in a big way, like their cousins in most other states of the region have. In their forbearance and fortitude then, the people of this ethnically diverse place one of the last bastions of natures untouched beauty and abundance in the Northeast should lead the way for others who had it all and lost much, most of it through their own misplaced reliance on insurgent violence and lack of political maturity. T

RRRRRRT G

MAMANG Dais works are delicacies from the hills of Arunachal Pradesh, served with love and ethnic pride

FRONTIS PIECE
poetry collections, River Poems and The Balm of Time (El balsamo del tiempo, a bilingual edition published in Spain); two critically acclaimed novels, The Legends of Pensam and Stupid Cupid; two childrens books, Once Upon a Moon-time and The Sky Queen; a cookbook; a book on the state, Arunachal Pradesh: The Hidden Land. Her short stories, poems and essays have been published in many journals and anthologies, and translated into Assamese, Hindi, German, Russian and Spanish. A winner of the Verrier Elwin Award in her state, Mamang has also been honoured with Padmashree. Mamang is gracefully lyrical in both River Poems (Writers Workshop) and The Legends of Pensam (Penguin). She writes with rare passion and flow, fresh and full like the Siang river that meanders through her valley. The local flavour of tribal myths, mountains and an intense emotional involvement with her land, all are found interwoven in her works like the beautiful costumes women make here with choice of colour and care. In the poem The Missing Link, she contemplates thus: I will remember then/ the great river/ that turned, turning/ with the fire / of the first sun away from the old land/ of red robed men * * * The river was the green/ and white veins of our lives linking new terrain/ in a lust for land brother and brother/ claiming the sunrise/ and the sunset, in a dispute settled/ by the rocks, engraved/ in a vanished land. In the title poem of the book River Poems she celebrates her homecoming: Who brought me back / to taste the mountains the breath of these hills, /at sunrise to sip the sweetness of this light? Holding firm to her belief and the divine essence of her wonderland, Mamang asserts: Yes, I believe in gods, / in the forest faith of good and evil, / spirits of the river and the dream world / of the dawn. (The Balm of Time) Such graceful movement and clarity make Mamangs poetry compelling. In her internationally acclaimed novel The Legends of Pensam, Mamang is at her best, handling the intricate web of stories, images and the history of her tribe with extreme delicacy and lyricism. Though the novel doesnt

have a central plot, the undying spirit of the people in between life and death, their sufferings and respite from them, keep the narratives moving in full aesthetic vigour. This socio-anthropological novel, like Gopinath Mahantys magnum opus in Odia, Amrutar Santan, is akin to the realms of gold as Keats would have said on first looking into Chapmans Homer. Her second novel Stupid Cupid, with the experimental theme of a love agency making space for people who seek a little love and happiness and are in the grip of complicated relationships, makes for pleasant reading with its lyrical charm and lucidity. Mamangs works are delicacies from the hills of Arunachal Pradesh, served with love and ethnic pride. Mamang has done Arunachal Pradesh proud by attracting acadessmic interest in the field of Indian English literature coming from a state, which was hitherto known only for its strategic importance, scenic beauty and weather forecast on Delhi Doordarshan. Yumlam Tana, a promising poet and cartoonist from the Nyishi tribe, has published a poetry collection, The Man and the Tiger (1999), and two cartoon books on Nyishi myths. Moreover, he is a painter and has exhibited his creations in Itanagar and New Delhi. Tage Donyi also published a small poetry book, Untamed Heart, in 1990. Obang Tayeng has written Folk Tales of the Adis and Mishmi Folk Tales of Lohit Valley. What makes Yumlam Tanas

Love is a power that ignites When the river of passions rams down a high fall Into the turbine of hearts, / giving light and luxury to a decaying soul. (Hydro-electricity, p.15) The loss of human values keeps worrying Yumlam: Why should we unleash/ so much violence/ directing warheads At each others integrity/ and hurling missiles of abuses Across every little frontiers? Tage Donyis poems are as sweet and simple as folk songs. Happy animals grazing/ In lush green fields Ecstatic birds flying/ Over the rivers and the mountains, (Greeting Everyone/ Untamed Heart) A little more editing would have improved the collection. If the contributions of people from other states working in Arunachal Pradesh can be taken into consideration, mention may be made of Bipin Patsani, the writer of this article, whose poems have been published in journals and poetry anthologies in India and abroad, and translated into Spanish and Portuguese. Each fault is a new discovery in the search for truth, And hence, a part of the creative process. What harm is there if Columbus

Uneven world
T
HE world is not fair, complained Robbie. What happened, dude, did someone piss you off? I asked. No, the gap between the rich and the poor is growing big every day. Why cant there be a world where everyone is equal? How wonderful it would be no poor, only rich people! said Robbie. Well, I dont know how wonderful that would be, but if that ever happens I think there would be chaos in the street. Just think, everybody being rich will no longer work for anyone. There would be dustbins filled with crap; there would be no road maintenance, no one to fix the broken lift, no one to mend the power failure, no one to run the trains or fly the planes. I guess this way the world would come to a total stop, I said, contradicting him. How can you say that, dude? asked Robbie.. Okay. Let me tell you a story. I guess you have heard about Confucius, the great Chinese philosopher of fifth century BC. One day he heard that a 14-year-old boy was attracting a large number of devotees eager to meet him and listen to his great words. He himself being a wise person, Confucius thought of meeting him and so he went. When he got the

chance to meet the boy he asked him this question: Why do you think there is so much of a difference among the people, some are so well-off, some has nothing to live on? The boy replied: The world runs in that way. If you think everyone should be equal, then you want to imply that everything on the face of earth should be equal. That means mountains should come down and become plains; oceans should fill up and become plains. In this way, the earth would be a large, barren, lifeless flat track, because the rivers will not have mountains to flow through into the plains to meet the oceans! The entire life supporting system will stop because the earth is flat. It is the unevenness of the earth that supports life, I ended. T

Learn from sheep, move on!

Love makes life meaningful

iNKPOT
BHASKAR SAIKIA

A writer and poet, Bhaskar Saikia publishes his works on the Internet

ATHER, my past never stops tormenting me. It has made my life hell. . Help me, father, before I do something stupid with my life, pleaded John. The priest asked, Do you often recall your past? Do you spend a lot of time during the day remembering your past? Yes comes the reply. Son, said the priest, life is the name of a journey that is coming, not one that has gone. You can revisit your past, that is never a problem; but dont stay back, stuck in your past. Learn from sheep, which always move on in search of new pastures. T

REM and Suraj are talking about love.

Mistake vs stupidity
R
ADHA was crying after failing to deliver her speech in the school speech competition. Why are you crying, my child? asked her teacher. Because I failed, teacher. Because I was unable to control my stage fright while delivering my speech, Radha sobbed. No Radha, you have not failed, you just made a mistake, consoled the teacher. Yes, I made a stupid mistake. It was my stupidity. Dont be so hard on yourself. You made a mistake, but that wasnt stupidity. But does that make any difference, teacher? The end result is the same. No my child, mistakes and stupidity are different things. When we do something without experience and fail, then its called mistake, but when we do something with prior experience and fail, then its called stupidity. But what about my classmates? They think that I am stupid. You cant control what others think about you, can you? Why lose your mind over what you cant control. Its up to you to prove them right or wrong by your action. Action is more important than brooding over the past and worrying about the future, concluded the teacher. T

As you know Prem, its great to be in love every day! said Suraj.. Agreed, but love has its own difficulties. And there are a lot of adjustments to be made with your partner, replied Prem, And sometimes thats not cool. Smiling, Suraj said: A coin without tail is meaningless; why do you think love should be an exception? Thats so true, bro. And they keep on walking towards the sunset point by the bank of the Brahmaputra. T