What are the stories you tell yourself?|A.Lozaanba Khumbah

image creit: Isaac Inkah

When I was young, my great grandmother, whom we lovingly called Apiko, used to tell us stories. She was a great story-teller and captivated our imaginations with the legends of Amang le Adaan, Lousa le Micharung, baraang gonnu meiri, taraisia meiri etc. However, for young boys growing up in a small town, the best stories were those that were about us. She would narrate how we’d hunt wild game when we grow up.

She would fill in every detail: I’d stay down-wind so that the wild boar would not catch my scent. After I’d waited for a while, the boar would appear. I’d lift my gun slowly and shoot it in the chest. It would stutter forward a few steps and fall down, dead! Then I would hurry to the boar, wrap my shirt around it and cut off a piece of its ear to claim that it is mine, and rush off to the village to call people to help me carry it home. We’d come back carrying the boar on a tolai, his giant white tusks exposed, ho-ho-ing all around, guns firing in the air. Mothers, children, and elders would be swarming as we reach the village at dusk….

Chills would run down my spine as Apiko spoke of my future exploits; it still does when I recall those stories. My childhood was filled with those heady stories: I saw myself all grown-up, strong and scouring the forest for game. It was the world that my great-grandma inhabited. It was also the world of my father and to some extent even my eldest brother. He did hunt a wild boar once and we welcomed it with torches in the night –  it was my childhood stories coming to life!

Unfortunately, I have not managed to even shoot down a bird with a catapult, not to mention hunting wild boar. On the contrary, I have lived a good part of my life in the concrete jungles of Delhi. But those days when Apikoused to sometimes narrate about how we’d go to ‘Deli-Bombay’, they weren’t so exciting. Not as much as hunting nganthong in the forest.

The power of stories

I have outgrown my great grandma’s stories. They are reminders of a generation that has run its course in history. It was beautiful, courageous and even romantic. But now, far from the hunting grounds of the past, I study in a university, involved in the ‘production of knowledge’. The trajectory of my life does not look anything like my dear Apiko would have ever imagined.

So, can I discard these stories? Not at all! Deeply embedded in those stories are certain powerful ideas that have shaped me in enduring ways. The stories of hunting assumed that I was capable, that I could face danger and emerge victorious. It gave me a vivid sense of imagination. Much before I had won anything in life, I was a winner. Great grandma’s stories planted seeds in me that later took root and shaped me as a person.

That is the power of stories. And whether we realize it or not, stories shape us in powerful ways. This is true for societies as well. Civilizations and cultures build their history around narratives. Every community has a story that reveals underlying truths about society. The case of Israel is perhaps one that we can relate to. Their story, that they are a people ‘chosen by God’, has formed their individual and collective consciousness, their history of resilience and success.

What is the Inpui story?

What is the Inpui story? What did our forefather tell us about who we are and what we did? Were we fierce warriors, skilled in the battlefield, courageous and famous? Were we a peace-loving people, caring and just? These are important questions that we need to think about. This is not an exercise in looking back; it is about making our footsteps firm as we go forward.

I remember my grandma (paternal) and other elders often talking about and singing Palaipu la. His songs are indeed melodious and pull the strings of your heart. I have read (Golden Jubilee Souvenir) about how Haochong village once planned to attack the Meitei King which made the King himself come to appeal to the villagers to desist from doing so. We have heard about NamriinangMaipak, his conversion to Christianity and his contribution to the Christian community of Manipur.

These are just to name a few. We have folk tales, stories of adventure and exploits that would require books. My purpose in quoting these few stories is an exercise in remembering the rich histories and traditions of our past. They assure us that, while everything was not rosy, our forefathers negotiated their present circumstances with creativity, dignity and the fear of God.

This exercise of remembering is not intended to romanticize the past as if they were the ‘golden days’ of freedom. However, just as the Israelites told and re-told the stories of God’s deliverance for his people over and over again, it is important that we tell our stories. These stories give us a semblance of an identity of who we are as a people – albeit an identity that is continuously being shaped by the present.

Pause, reflect and move on

We must bear in mind, however, that every re-telling of a story is also an exercise in interpretation. In other words, not only do we look at the past with different (modern) eyes, we also re-interpret and appropriate it to our contexts and needs. History writing is, therefore, never free of politics and the struggles of power.

Story-tellers tend to valorize their own history and shelve unpleasant facts under the carpet. Apart from the few incidents that I mentioned above, there are instances of wrong-doing and injustice. No community can grow by pretending that these never happened. History must be retold so that justice can be served, forgiveness may be sought and wounds may be healed. We can move forward only in this way.

Thus, remembering who we were and how we have come about is an opportunity to re-write our stories and redefine who we are. Once more, this is an example that we see again and again in the context of the Israelites. I believe that this is an important exercise that the Inpui community needs to engage in in the context of recent developments.

I am referring to two things: first, the ‘solution’ that the Naga leadership is bringing, and second, the Asian Highway that is passing through the Inpui region. These are historic events with significant immediate and long-term consequences. And only communities who know themselves well can navigate the opportunities and the turmoil that these events will bring in their wake.

What are the stories you tell yourself?

I conclude with the important question: what are the stories you tell yourself? What are the stories you are telling about your community? And once again, I ask, who are the Inpui people? Are they a wise community, understanding the times and sensitive to the events around them regardless of their small number? Are they a community who reflect on their history and count God’s blessings? Are they courageous people, not adverse to change but creatively negotiating with the world around them to create a just, peaceful and prosperous community? I would like to believe we are.

A. Lozaanba Khumbah. He is currently a doctoral candidate in JNU, New Delhi.

The article first appeared in Kala-Khwanbaang (echo from afar), an annual publication of Inpui Students' Union, Delhi (ISUD), 2019.