Inside the Heart of Darkness-IX

October 13, 2007, Senvon: The morning was fresher than the day before. It was because it rained endlessly the last night. It stopped briefly. As if to take a break and breathe. It resumed with a renewed strength, with thousands of raindrops falling in a matter of second on the tin roof that keeps us warm and dry. The yellow village road was wet, slippery and muddy. The wet surfaces almost glow under the heavy rain. We were served milk tea that was sweeter than usual. I couldn’t remember who told me this, but I was told the sweeter the teas, sweeter are the hearts that welcomes you. Good signs. It doesn’t mean that the host have sugar in abundant. Sometimes you can read hearts from what is served. In some places it is said that when courting a woman if sweet tea is served it means that you are stepping inside a court that could be shared. In some other places where the host could not afford sugar, I was told they served salt, which has to be lick. I did not take the liberty to remain blissful in the calculation of our sweet tea for I thought the rain was showing its strength for me. I went to the lifted balcony and watched the rain showering with heavy drops; bigger and fatter than any woman could cry them out.

In Senvon and other Tipaimukh villages October is supposed to be a fruitful, busy harvesting month. But just as expected, the doom flowers (gregarious bamboo flowering) bloom and left them without much to harvest. For many it left them nothing to harvest. So it was a gloomy month that will continue with more distressing time to confront. How they will negotiate is one big unimaginable question that gets clogged if one contemplates from their cut-off situations. There is nothing to resemble the State or government. It has no presence in anything. So there is no scent of welfare or development to take place. Every man is for himself. His life is defined by the swell of his muscles, the sweat of his brows, his traditional knowledge and wisdom of clearing the forest for his jhum fields, and the seeds he preciously treasure in the heart of his hearth. In the end, after all efforts were exerted and invested, he waits for October to come and December to follow. But His dark expectations proved true with the doom flowers that multiply and explodes the rat population that invaded his ripen fields of life. He did not surrender or sacrifice. Rats, rodents, birds and other wild animals were his enemies when the nation “shines” and “boom” in the 21st century that is defined by leaping progress in science and technology. However, in Tipaimukh, man’s science and technology is limited to his usage of spade, Dao, and the matchsticks used to burn the slashed forest. The other science to him is the unexplainable creations of God, which he did not even think of questing into.

I met quite a number of distressed families who cannot help but spill their apprehensions as hunger awaits them. It was a helpless situation for them as well as me. From that moment on, I said to myself that something should be done during our brief stay to give them hope. An ounce of it at least to help them carry on. I knew it would be impossible on my part, as well as ours, to provide immediate financial or material aid. The question was how to do that. What will you say or do in such situation? How will you respond? It was a difficult situation. I could not find a way out. But I have one thing in my mind that says, give them hope. If then, what will be hope in this situation and how do we deliver that hope? That was when I was wishing I was like Jesus, filling their garner with fat yellow grain to rest their worries. But reality gnaws like a boil on the head. So to many that I met, I told them we will do anything to relief their hunger and distress. That was an empty promise, but I could see little glow that appears like some thin brittle glass. So I must act. We must act. Today, hunger has driven them to uproot deep wild ham and other wild foods. We cannot be merry in ignorance and pretension when hunger and the fear of it could not comfort them or lull them to sleep. This is high time you and I act and respond to their distress call. They just need rice. Nothing more.

I remember kids who came for the conference brought along their load of vegetables from far away villages early in the morning hoping to take home something after the conference. They also brought roasted meat of wild animals. However their thin chance of fetching a good price for their goods was spoilt. They went from door to door selling the same stuff. In the end they had to bring down the price to the ground level. They were compelled to do so, rather than taking them back home the same load. Something is better than nothing. That will always be with man here on earth. We bought the dry meat. L Keivom bought their vegetable as well, which we eat them fresh in Senvon. Senvon did not have a separate market of its own. People who have stuff to sell take them door to door. If not they leave it in the available shops. There is another way of making them public, which is done with a written notice that would be placed in places frequented by the villagers. The last and effective practice is when it got spreaded by word of mouth. In Senvon and other Tipaimukh villages, everyone knows everyone. Sometimes one wonders if the word of mouth has everything to defy technology in places like Senvon.

The morning meal was early, heavy and healthy. I was proud not to be fasting or dieting. The time difference has inevitable interference that tends to sneak into our eating time. But I could forgive because of the beautiful rain. After meal we immediately dressed up for the worship cum seminar. We were halted by the rain, but the appointed time was running against us. So we walked the muddy road shaded by black umbrellas to find the congregation hall occupied. One thing Tipaimukh villagers are good at is in keeping time. I don’t know what it would be with other affairs, but for the religious session, they did not seem to give any missing chance.

The worship service was followed by the choir singing competition. Thirteen village choirs participated and battled for the prize money. The competition breathes with a fresh change as the choir did not represent any particular denomination despite its teeming presence. It was for the first time that Tipaimukh villagers came together leaving behind their scarred unseen high walls to worship Him. The change was celebrated. It was visible. I hear many saying that too. When, in the name of religion, their small villages were fragmented, the change is a big leap as they near the centenary of the Gospel. I haven’t seen such a potent dividing force that molests the religion we are professing today. Again, I see this as no handiwork of the masses who were led. It is the creation of the so called “leaders” who are designing differences to carve an identity for themselves. The bigger the differences the better their chance of survival. When it has become a game of survival for their “leaders” the masses blindly sacrificed their reason, integrity, innocence and their belief to find themselves in one of the multiplying compartments that housed outdated doctrines, which actually professed all the irreligious negativities. As they sacrifice, they do so at the cost of shattering bloodlines, love, peace, and what not. These houses of doctrines have presented itself merely as a way of life, where the spiritual quest took the backseat. Sometimes, the battle gets too narrow that the race is to wrest the imported orphans quota and free education that were never really imparted. The situation is one big grave. Forty eight years from today, the impact of the spoilt generation by these houses would be felt more severe than another cycle of gregarious bamboo flowering. When that time comes to wake us, if we are fortunate enough, it would be too late to ask about the fire starters who will all be rotting with their layered sins. My fear is that they might leave behind their infectious virus that will sincerely follow their footsteps to lead us into that Vanity Fair. How long are we supposed to say, “Father forgive them for they do not know what they do.” Do you really think they did not know what they were doing?

After the singing competition, L Keivom’s translated Bible (Baibul, Delhi Version) was released. The new translation of the Bible was presented to all the pastors and elders in Tipaimukh. L Keivom, then, led the seminar. He immediately posed a big question; What do you think is the need of the hour for us as a people? It was interesting as many voices were raised in response. More than fifty people responded. However, I recorded 29 responses as the rest were similar, if not related. Theirs answers were God fearing, obedience, repentance, Gospel, truth, surrendering to God’s will, courage, peace, meekness, unity, road, self examination, good leader, God’s spirit, salvation, education, hardworking, bridge, wealth, God, state, goodness, wisdom, Jesus, trusting God, rice, health, selflessness, and free education.

If we delve into their responses that carries their expectations, one cannot help but weigh them with the challenges of their reality. Their desired approach towards solving their problems were absent of any realist perspective. It was too ideal, where the entire teaching of salvation and deliverance have also wedded their expectations. I wonder if it was because the seminar was part of the Gospel conference. But too much of the indoctrination without any other substantial feeding for the faculties has resulted in what Marx called it an “opium.” That has invaded “the masses.” This has pushed us into expecting the supernatural forces to work on our lives, while we never act to move the mountains.

L Keivom digressed and stressed on two things: the need for establishing good school, which will mould generations and future. Keivom said, “If a school is not in order, nothing will ever be in order. School is the biggest factory.” Keivom said that a good school is the need of the hour in Tipaimukh. He challenged the gathreing to act and report if they know of government aided school teachers who are not doing their duty. He said, “If you dare not do this, you are equally committing a sin.” He said that there can be no bigger thief than such people who are not carrying out their obligation. He reminded the congregation that one has to have courage to do good. L Keivom also said that the mission aided schools today have resembled school of the thieves, run by the thieves. “To rebuild our nation, we need to revive good school that will remain our foundation as we progress. We need a new beginning”, Keivom said.

Keivom also stressed on the great mistake, the misuse of the Gospel. Keivom said that the devil has taken hold of us as we could never wake from the mistake. He strongly impressed of the need to celebrate the Gospel centenary in union, which will take place in the year 2010. He said, “We cannot fail ourselves and above all the Lord our God.”

After Keivom spoke, tea break was announced. However there was no tea, so it was resumed with the response session. A heated discussion follows regarding the date of the Gospel centenary celebration. Two factions were visible. One house strongly opines that the Gospel reached Senvon on February 5, 1910. The other house holds that it was on May 7, 1910 that the Gospel was sowed in Senvon. The learned and men of pulpit drew their historic swords. The ghosts of Coleman and Watkin Roberts, the Whites missionaries, revisit as if it were some unfinished agenda that has to be negotiated again. Efforts and temper were exerted with the ball changing courts. It could not be an easy nip. It could not be a win - win situation for both the groups. The issue was, and it still is, crucial. However, it was sensitive than the surface looks to be. I tell you public memory is not short with everything. I witnessed one side defending its stand in the interest of correcting the blunder of history. The other side defended its dates as if salvation was attached to it. I believed it was more than that. Their entire belief system seems to have been oriented to immerse in that sanctified numbers. I said to myself that Christianity has too many signs, symbols and dates that if we erase them, many would see their faith slowly fading away.

Two things are involved here; the historical evidence and the missionaries propaganda. With the passage of time it has become difficult to separate the grain from the sheaves. That is exactly the American problem today; the nation who were seduced with the distorted history that Columbus discovered America. After the gullible nation was fed with the distorted staple of history, it is trapped in its own wrong that will never be corrected despite the knowledge of the truth. Are we with Bush here who said, “If you are not with us you are against us.”

Fortunately, the heated discussion was put to halt by some sort of divine intervention. It was the conductor, who is also a pastor, who said enough of it. It has become inevitable. The session ended with a prayer. There is an immediate need for a constructive discussion and a secular retreat to our contested history. If this is not done, we will be remembered for our worship of sanctified dates, signs and symbols.

After the service, I met lots of people from different villages of Tipaimukh who were affected by the bamboo flowering. Their stories should shame the government if it exists for them. It should shame their elected representatives if there is any. It is a big shame, soured by helplessness, where hope ended with the visible walls of hills and mountain. I met people who don’t know what a government is for them. I met people who don’t know what a government stood for. Their decades of self reliant and independent existence are threatened by the doom flowers. Every bloom is not a blessing. Every flower is not beautiful.

We (Hrangthangvung, Darkung,our hosts’ son, and I) went to see the jhum fields raided by the rats, rodents and other wild animals. Darkung has his paddy field fillled with all sorts of traditional traps. His neighbours did the same. It did not even seem to tickle the menacing invaders that caused the ongoing famine. The scene in the jhum fields, rich with the colours of nature set in the evening of the day, was a mesmerising sight. The red and fading glow of the sun that slowly slips behind distant hills and mountain could make one lonelier than the solitary sun.

There was the post dinner worship service again. It was still muddy and the crowd gets bigger than before. The dancing also gets wilder. There was always something that feeds the soul. But we returned to our warm room to find the imported spirit runs dry. But it rained.

(Delhi, March 15, 2008)