2007: A Retreat

I remember ushering in 2007 with longing and a brand new zeal. It was in the same old ancient city of Delhi where the exploding population clogged everything. The longing was no doubt for the distance home and few other things that any man is bound to desire anytime. That could be mother or the rib lost. I attended the Delhi Hmar Christian Fellowship New Year service just like this year, 2008. Unfortunately, something seems to have become usual. The words were without the spirit. The songs were without any harmony. Without any soul. The pulpit and the house that it accommodates resembles an old and weary sound box where it attempts to announce to remind the sinner that we are while a coterie of men in all shades of skin desperately tried wearing the sheep's. It fits anyone in this land of dust. It has become a playground where the haves could sanctify themselves with a little more than the widow coins. Well that's everywhere here on earth. But I am always content for God so love the world.

I remember heaving in relief with the cease in seeing Hmar people suffer, unlike 2006 in Tipaimukh where people were displaced, tortured, loss their limbs and lives to landmines and raped. The issues were endless though. The Hmar Women Association (HWA) who are still standing firm for the cause of the Tipaimukh rape victims spearheaded the big fight. They will be heading to Tipaimukh's Lungthulien and Parbung for another hearing and cross-examination in the middle of January 2008 as directed by the Manipur Government's instituted Rajkhowa Commission to investigate the rape case. The misery has been endless for the rape victims and their families. I met two of the rape victims again at Lungthulien and Senvon in October 10 and 11, 2007. I first met them one month after the shameful incident in February 2006 when more than 20 girls and women from Tipaimukh's Parbung and Lungthulien were molested and raped by armed militants. Their sufferings bonded us. I took pictures with both of them at Senvon in October 2007. For the sake of the camera we delivered a dry smile. I am glad they could deliver even that. It was too sad for words to express. One told me that she's still too ashamed to continue to see the day. "But U David I am strengthened by God, which is keeping me alive", she told me. The other came to meet me with her lanky father. Everything about them shows their inconsolable pain. It has become a burden that weighs them down. The other one told me that the continuous stay in the village has been a tortuous one, as everyone knew what they went through. She asked me to help her move out of the village to anywhere. I could manage to do that and talked to Pi Laremsiem about it. The girl is working in one of Pi Remsiem's home in Aizawl. She was also summoned for the tortuous and never-ending hearing and cross-examination, which will be conducted again in her village very soon. I was told she dread to take the trip where the Commission would have another systematic torture of the rape victims, where the entire village would be reminded again of their bleeding daughters. The repetitive system has become too monotonous and tortuous for the shattered and traumatised girls and women who have no idea about the authoritative system that dictates them to rewind their wounded lives. Public action should be remediary, constructive and proactive when it comes to rape victims. The traditional colonial mechanisms were hurled to doubt and question their plights. They are poor and illiterate lot. But they are alive with amazing wisdom and strength. Moreover they have the truth. The truth of their sufferings and misery. The truth of the shameful loss. God be with them when the patriarchal Commission meets them again. May their soul live in peace.

The same misery shifted to our Kuki brothers and sisters in Manipur's Chandel district. They were also displaced and killed by landmines. As their plights deteriorate, their situation also got tense and slipped out of the tense hills and mountains. The Kuki Students' Organisation organised a chain of protest rally in the Capital city, demanding for Government's intervention to redress the plights of the Kukis. One of the rally in Delhi's Parliament Street turned violent that resulted in the security forces resorting to rubber bullets and tear-gassing. More than 100 students were arrested and jailed in Tihar jail. They were booked under exaggerated cases that created another big and small battle for the community leaders. However, the misery of the people that was born out of the protracted conflict was no longer cornered as journalistic orphans. But the problems are endless, which made the Kuki leaders in Chandel declared 2007 Christmas as "Black Christmas."

Then, on July 16, 2007 I was awarded the country's biggest journalism award, Ramnath Goenka Excellence in Journalism Award, by the then President Abdul Kalam. A feather I shall cherish forever. August came. I bought myself a birthday present on the 7, a Nikon D80 with a separate metal lens to seriously pursue photography. The buy prick a hole in the pocket. But I confess I am happier than ever before to look at pictures that I took. Of pictures I long dreamed of. I will be making public my pictures very soon, with Lalremlien's help, on the internet on various subjects that interest me - culture, livelihood, landscape, portraits, strangers, festivals, people and little of abstract photography. He has been asking me to maintain a blog and put a date on everything I write. With the birthday present, I finally stopped using my long time antique like Yashica SLR and Vivitar cameras that required roll films. However, I still make good use of the Canon SLR, which was presented to me by Pu Malsawmthang Keivom before he left for his foreign posting to Garborone.

Delimitation issue that has been stirring for sometime emerged as another battle for the tribals in Manipur. It reached Delhi again. I seriously followed the issue and wrote extensively. Benjamin Mate, who is spearheading the issue on behalf of various civil societies, became a close friend after all the discussions and sharing. Be it reservations or delimitation, it has been severely unfair and unequal. But the might of those in power could make anyone mute and a mite. The battle goes on and the Supreme Court intervened and compelled the Delimitation Commission and the Manipur government to exercised delimitation in Manipur, which is likely to finish sometimes in February 2008.

On October 7, 2007, Baibul, Delhi Version, translated by Zoramkhawvel Luther, L Keivom, was released at the Delhi Hmar Christian Fellowship. I embraced the translation as a revolution, a literary garner, and a potent politics. It was a feat that will inspire my life on earth for another beautiful hereafter. The same version was released in Manipur's Senvon on October 11, 2007. The village was where the Gospel first reached the Hmar people in 1910. I also stepped inside the heart of darkness – Tipaimukh – on Keivom's invitation. I went with several objectives: to witness the historic release of the Baibul, to take stock of situation of the distressed people confronting famines in the face of the gregarious bamboo flowering (mautam), and to photograph people and lives. By God's grace I could do all that. But it was sad when the plagued villagers told me that they desire to celebrate Christmas in October while they have little of the meager harvest. That was when I wish that atleast rice could be generated from the pulpit just as any single verse could be extended for hours to the despaired sinners. They already have too much from the pulpit's mouth. But they never have any fish or bread from the hands. They are overdosed with the preaching. But never any feeding. Can man live by the words alone? I realised that Hmar people are narrowly religious. To everything they readily extended religious approach, interpretations and judgment. Religious interpretation and judgment to history, science, politics, culture, art, music and what not. They said the displacement and Tipaimukh refugee in January 2006 was because of their sins. They also said that Tipaimukh rape was because we are sinful. They said again that the food crisis that the distressed Tipaimukh villagers are confronting today is also because of their sins. But bring me one without the stain of sin. I will not cast the first stone. But the stone in my hands will speak out. It would be a desirous deliverance if the society is not Talibanised. I only pray that He will forgive their ignorance. When it comes to the Word, just believe. But when it comes to the self styled interpreters and preachers don't just believe.

November came and we were stirred alive by the 1st RN Tamchon Memorial Football trophy at the Ambedkar Stadium. The tournament exhumed immeasurable spirit and collectivity that inspired everyone who witnessed us. HSA FC exerted the best of efforts, but i was so sorry we let down everyone, who cheered and stood for us. I am yet to shed the hangover; which doesn't seem to be an easy one. I still tell myself we could have done a little better. The game has to speak and save us next time we play again. But we are remembered for many things that we delivered for the love of the game: the best supporters, known for their loud and colourful flocks and the highest scorer in a single match (HSA FC scored 13 goals against Arunachal Students FC). Well they said our anthem (Tinkim ka dawn changin) was too long. Val Upa Samuel Darsuolal's reply to that was a beautiful one. He told them that the anthem was long as we have to remember our brothers and sisters in Mizoram, Manipur, Meghalaya, Assam and Tripura.

On December 11, 2007 we (L Keivom, Samuel Darsuolal, Lalremlien and I) headed to Mizoram's Vairengte for the 51st Hmar Student's Association General Assembly. It was a celebration on culture touching, while discussing various other issues and subjects. Keivom and I went on an extended trip to Shillong, Tura and Baghmara on Rohminglien Buhril's invitation who hosted us. He is presently the DFO of Meghalaya's Tura and Baghmara districts. We witnessed the cultured practice of the Garos who treasured their forest to make it a sacred golden forest. Their forest bears no bruise. It blessed them with abundant water and the cleanest air in return. If nature is pleased with them God must also be on their side. Seeing the Garos preparing and expecting for Christmas was Christmas to me. Returning to Delhi was a dry spell. Soul less. As I picked up the threads of life, it was already New Year again. So I told myself to read more, buy more books, write more, love more, pray more, help more, see more, listen more, travel more and photograph more. Happy New Year to all.

(January 6, 2008)