Thisham: Tangkhul Festival for the Dead

The Tangkhuls have great respect for the dead, which ostensibly is attributed to the strong belief that there is life after death. For this, there used to be a special festival ‘Thisham’ celebrated for twelve days in the month of January. The festival was typically an occasion to bid goodbye to departed souls of the previous year. Thisham was celebrated in strict adherence to rituals practiced from time immemorial. Folk dance and folk songs performed during the festival are said to be unique. If there had been dead in a rich family in the previous year, the family usually acts as the chief host during the festival.

Each of the twelve days had different activities dedicated to the memory of the departed souls. The main activities of the twelve days were.

DAY I: The villagers gather pine torches for their respective clans and families. The collected pine torches are meant for taking to the spot where the souls of the departed are believed to come and light their torches in the evening during the festival. Some of the villagers also go out to collect bamboo bark to weave ropes for the dead. Firewood is also collected in bulk on the first day.

DAY II: Relatives of those who passed away the previous year gather together to weave ropes meant to tie the sacrificial animals to be slaughtered during the festival.  Leaves for wrapping rice cake for the dead are also collected on the second day. Indigenous wine and beer are served in abundance to the workers.

DAY III: Animals selected for sacrifice are slaughtered ranging from biggest to the smallest.  The list usually included buffalo, mithun, cow, pig, dog, cat, fowl, etc. The nature of killing the sacrificial animals as recalled by some aged people used to be slow and painful. Rice cake for the dead is baked and wine is also brewed on the third day. At the end of the day, limbs of the slaughtered animals are distributed to the chosen representatives of the dead persons. The leftovers are shared with relatives and friends. Families where dead had occurred the previous year used to choose a person each to be the representative of the dead person during the festival. The selection was based on some resemblance between the dead person and the one to be the representative. The resemblance could be facial, nature, character, etc. The representatives were called ‘Thila Kapho’.

DAY IV: People from neighboring villages chosen as representatives arrive to the village on the fourth day. Traders also turn up with the wares and goods they intend to sell or exchange during the festival. 

DAY VI: Family members and relatives of individuals who have died invite the representatives to their homes and feed them as well as shower presents. This was considered as giving to the persons who have died.

DAY VII: If any of the representatives had not been invited home the previous day, they are invited and are being fed. When evening comes, family members of the dead person gather at an open space bringing with them plateful of cooked sticky rice. A whole piece either of the leg or rip of a pig is placed beside the wooden rice plate. The plate and meat of each family is then given away to the respective representatives hired by the family of the dead.

The representatives are then invited home for feasting. When the representatives are fed well and when darkness descends, people come out from their homes with lighted pine torches to parade the representatives to the village gate. On reaching the village gate, farewell words are exchanged. Words such as “It is time to part; we love you; do not come back; let this be the end for now; may you fare well, etc are told to the representatives. This is considered as saying to the dead. The lighted torches are then thrown away. The people then go home. If the representatives are from the same village, they had to go home via a path different from the others. However, if they are from neighboring villages, they either go back to their own village or camp for the night somewhere in the open field. They are forbidden to go back to the village.

When everyone is back home, pine torches were lit outside every house. This is to ensure that the souls of the living do not loiter away along with the dead. The head of the family takes a sifting basket and called out names of the living members in the family and beckon to come back home. Falling down or stumbling on this particular day was considered as a very bad omen. If anyone falls down, a fowl was taken to the exact spot where the person fell down. The fowl was sacrificed after making its wings flap as a sign of calling the soul of the person not to follow away with the dead.

Before retiring for the night, the villagers gather at their convenient places in the open to check whether the dead people had come and collected their torches. It is said that people could really see lines of lit torches moving away slowly. Every village used to have some spots in a high mountain where lit torches used to be seen. Shirui narao, Sihai Phangrei and a hillock in Longpi Kajui were the three places where Hunphun (Ukhrul) people used to watch the dead people moving away holding lit pine torches.

DAY VIII: People are not supposed to move out of the village on this day. This is because of the belief that the dead who have loitered away from the group could be lingering around. Since, whatever needed to be given away to the dead have been given away the previous day, it was believed that the dead could not come back to ask for more. The day is referred as kazei kuireo.

DAY IX: The day was called festival of the living. As everything has been given away meant for the dead, the day is dedicated to the living for merry making.

DAY X: The day was called ‘vaichum ngakhum.’ Vaichum is a basket where rice beer used to be stored in olden days. The word ‘ngakhum’ means the act of emptying. Thus, on this day the vaichum, rice beer pots, bamboo mugs used for sharing wine with the dead are thoroughly washed and made to dry in the sun.

DAY XI: This day used to be a special feasting day. Relatives and friends are invited home for sumptuous feasts.

DAY XII: The feasting continues for the second day. Those who have not been invited the previous day are invited home. This is the day people who have come from the neighbouring villages too return to their respective villages before the sun sets.

The festival was discontinued after the advent of Christianity in the Tangkhul Hills.

Mice from Heaven

No one know where the mice come from but, everyone knows it is a bad omen when they come in hordes. The elders have a peculiar ways of interpreting the omen saying the gods are angry and they throw mice from the sky, which the educated young ones shrugged off as a shapeless joke. However, the mice are found froze to death even on top of the thatch roofs making the 'mice raining story' a little credible, some of the elders would often argue that the mice indeed rain down from heaven else why should they be found on the thatch roofs and tree branches. Mice lay dead everywhere, in the fields, on the road, and sometimes even at the doorsteps.  In the village, mice were always known for their medicinal qualities, and it was no surprise when most the villagers went around collecting the carcasses, roasting them and storing them on top of the hearths as meat supply. When the army of dead mice invaded the village, everyone started talking about delayed rain, unwanted post cultivation rain, and bad harvest. The fear of the unknown gripped the village as no one knew what extra unwanted things the year is going to bring to them.

As predicted, the rains were delayed, however, cultivation of the fields were done on time as most of the paddy fields are well irrigated by the perennial river water. The much delayed rain finally came and it continued to rain day and night. None of the elders recalled that kind of angry rain and the young people were just shocked having never seen such downpour. The incessant rains reinforced the elder’s theory about gods’ anger; some even

murmured the name of gods worshipped by their forefathers, which they have almost forgotten after embracing Christianity. The village pastor narrated the story of Noah and his Ark to the congregation on Sunday, six days since the rain started and suggested that they all should confess and have a mass prayer. The church was suddenly filled with loud sound of prayer, which for a while subdued the sound of raindrops hitting on the tinned roof. The rain didn’t stop. Paddy fields on the river bank were washed away, and two wooden bridges used for crossing over to the fields on the other side of the river were carried away. After two weeks of incessant rain, the sun showed up as if it had never rained. It appeared like the rain and the sun were teasing the villagers. With the sun, things came back to normal. The villagers were now busy trying their best to repair the damages caused by the devastating rain. The menfolk were busy repairing the blown away roofs, restoring the washed away barricades on the catchment area of the fields, and the women were busy re-planting the damaged crops. It was like re-living the busy cultivation month. Sundays were only the days when even the laziest among the villagers manage to get some rest. One Sunday, after  the Morning Service at the Church, the village Pastor, on the request of the village chief, called for the village elders’ meeting at the Panchayat hall. During the meeting, the chief informed the gathering that the village people need to help the brothers from the jungle in shifting their base. Two young lads from the jungles had come to see the chief the previous evening. He was briefed that they are shifting their base further into Myanmar territory to ensure Indian Army find it hard to penetrate. The help for shifting would mean each family providing one labor each for ferrying goods from the old to the new location on rotational basis. The two lads also told the chief that he would be informed about the time and thus to notify the villagers to be ready. No one could argue or raise their concerns against the diktats of the jungle lads in this village.

There was no voice heard after the meeting, only the hisses of some helpless sighs. At their homes, all their family members sat around the fire waiting for them to come back and brief them the minutes of the meeting. When they told their families about the task in hand, the womenfolks complained and the younger ones were angry, but only in vain. It somewhere dawned that the elders were right about god’s anger on them. Already the mice and the rains had shown signs of the impending doom; the new task only doubled their misery. Secrecy of the task was of prime importance and it should under no circumstance reach the the Indian Army camp. If the news about the villagers helping the underground reaches the Army, all the village men will be stripped and caned by the army. On the other hand, refusing to help the brothers in the jungle would mean betrayal against their own community. It was under such situations that the village elders compared their lives with that of a hunter stranded between a wounded wild boar and an angered grisly. The call for shifting the camp came as suddenly as the rain. According to the arrangement, the village has to provide five porters everyday to ferry goods from the old camp to the new one. The villagers will have to leave home at midnight to dodge the watchful and suspicious eye of the Indian Army. Moreover, they were not allowed to carry torches to find their way which would attract the unnecessary attention of the Army camp sentries, which was just two kilometers from the village. Each group of five villagers thus went on rotational basis at night and comes back at midnight of the following day dogged tired because of the long journey and the hard labor.

This was not the end of misery for the village. As nothing can really be hidden under the sun or moon, after two weeks, the Army came to know about the unusual movements. The villagers were not sure whether someone from the village informed the army or the vigilant sentries came to know about the movements. One night, the army laid a trap and the five people who were going out of the village carrying huge bamboo baskets were rounded up. They were taken to the Army camp and locked up. The oldest in the group warned the others they should not tell the truth even if they were tortured. He also suggested that they should feign ignorance of Hindi if they were interrogated. Everyone in the group was beaten up. But when they were asked where they were going at midnight all of them acted as if they don't understand what they are being asked. In the morning the village Chief and clan elders were summoned to the Army camp and were interrogated. Every one of them was beaten up and was ordered to report to the Army camp every day for two weeks. None in the group however, spilled the reason for leaving the village at midnight with big baskets. They were ignorant that the army already knew the reason from its various informants. The commander of the camp then imposed night curfews in the whole village and threatened that whoever leaves the village at night would be shot. Thus, ended the villagers’ trips to the jungle. When porters were not sent for three days, the men from the jungle came to the village to know the reason for disobeying their diktat. On being told the reason, they suggested that the porters then be sent during day in a group of two, three and four alternately. The village elders were advised to ask the porters to act as if they are going for hunting. The bamboo baskets should be hidden in the jungle. The shifting of camp which lasted for almost a month got over finally using all cunningness to dodge the hawk-eyed army.

From then on, the village became a transit point for the underground people coming from other camps and were going to the new headquarter. The villagers dutifully provided the jungle lads with food, shelter and the warmest of blankets whenever they halted in the village. However, the army would somehow get a sniff of the halts in the village and the village elders would be summoned to the army camp. The village elders were threatened with dire consequences. Very often, they were lashed with cane sticks as punishment. The halts of the jungle lads and the summons by the army became somewhat like an unwanted ritual for the villagers; something they couldn’t wish away. On one such occasion, ten men from the jungle came to the village and told the village chief that they intend to spend the night in the village as they were too tired to march on. For security reasons, they decided to use the village recreation hall to put up for the night instead of staying at the village chief’s house. They were fed and blankets were collected from the village and dropped at the recreation hall for the soldiers to rest.The night dragged on slowly with more darkness adding up every passing hour .

The village Chief had a very uneasy feeling that whole night and was unable to doze off fearing something could go wrong. The night seemed unusually longer and he kept waking up the whole night. He had just started to drift off to sleep when the first cock crowed announcing the dawn. He slowly got up from his bed with the thought of making some tea for himself. It was then that the village suddenly woke up to the thunders of gunfire. The firing continued for about an hour and there were also sounds of loud explosions every now and then. When the firing finally stopped, the village was filled with Indian Army jawans dragging out everyone from home. Some people who sleep like dead and were not woken by the sounds of gunfire were kicked and woken. Everyone in the village was ordered to assemble at the village ground adjacent to the recreation hall where the militants were housed the previous night. When all the villagers were gathered at the ground, men were separated from the women and children. The the village chief and the pastor were called to identify all the men.

Five lifeless, badly mutilated bodies were unceremoniously dragged out from the recreation hall and were kicked to add to the insult of being dead. That fateful day, the villagers were forced to go hungry as no one was allowed to budge from the ground. No one came to their rescue. The men folk were ordered to strip down to their inner wears and women and children were ordered not to make any sound or even cry. They were made to sit on the still damp ground the whole day. Much to their relief, the Superintendent of Police with his escort arrived in the evening, talked to the commander of the army and finally told the villagers to go home. By then ten children have fainted due to hunger, fifteen men badly tortured. The village chief and the pastor were also beaten. The elder brother of Ningkhan who was with the underground was beaten to death.

The villagers later came to know that someone from the village tipped off the army about the presence of underground activists in the village. Later, it was rumored that the person on sentry duty dozed off due to fatigue from the long march and didn't see the army rounding them up and ran off on hearing the first gunshot. It was also rumored that the person who was on sentry duty was given capital punishment. Five people from the jungle were slaughtered that night in the gun battle. Four others managed to escape after breaking open the wooden wall on the rear side of the hall. The casualty on the side of the army if any was never made known. The village chief and the village elders were forced to report to the army camp everyday for one month. The army also conducted frequent frisking and checking in the village for about two weeks after the incident. As for the recreation hall, it became a wasted structure as most of the wooden planks on the walls were blown off and the few left were full of bullet holes; the tin roof too suffered the same fate. Later, only the village kids are going to use it for playing the game of underground and Indian army on moonlit nights.

It took a long time for the villagers to recover from the shock and horror of the torture they went through. However, they had no other choice but to try and restore normalcy with the arrival of the harvest season. The unwanted post cultivation rain had already wrecked their crops and they feared if the harvest would last through the following year. To add to their woes, it again started raining like never before just when everyone was planning dates for the harvests. The paddy fields were getting overripe, but the rain won't stop to let them harvest the meager produce of the year. One morning when most of the villagers were still indoors because of the downpour, they heard a loud explosion which they thought could be thunderclap, but it was soon followed by continuous gunfire. The horror of the torture meted out by the Army was still fresh in everyone's mind. The sound of the gun fires were coming from the army camp and no one was sure what could be happening. The firing continued for about half an hour and none among the villagers dared to venture out. The elders told the young ones to lay flat on the ground lest some stray bullets hit them. When the firing stopped and everything was silent again except for the rain sound, the villagers stepped out of their doors to assess the situation. They saw smoke rising from some buildings inside the army camp. Some of them went nearer to the camp out of sheer curiosity to know what was happening. It was then that they discovered hell was unleashed upon them. They saw more than three dozen of the people from the jungle marching down from the army camp each one with three or more guns slung down from their shoulders.

The army camp has been ransacked and all the guns and ammunition in the camp armory looted. All the army personnel including the commanding officer who survived the attack were herded inside the buildings in the camp and locked in. When the men from the jungle saw the scared villagers, they told them to run away if they could before reinforcements arrive. The underground people went back to the jungle feeling victorious for having ransacked the army camp in lesser time than they estimated and for having avenged the death of their comrades. By this time the rain has subsided as though it was waiting for the army camp to be ransacked. The villagers ran back to the village and directly went to the chief's house to discuss what they should do. Some suggested the whole village should run away. But, where else would they go leaving their homes and the ripe fields? Some suggested all the men should run to the neighboring villages as they know the army jawans are going to vent their anger mainly on the men folk. Others opposed the idea of leaving the women and children. In the end the elders suggested that no one should run away from the village but, bear together whatever comes. If the army comes to know that some villagers were missing, the consequence could be worse than expected, countered some of the elders. Thus it was decided that no one should leave but stay to bear the wrath of the army. As someone needs to inform the district administration and police of what has happened in the village, it was decided that the village peon should walk to the district headquarters to inform the authorities. The district headquarter is about 40 kilometers from the village. Thus, the peon started for the district headquarters while the villagers went home to await their fate like helpless animals caught in a trap.

Three and half hours after the attack, the village was filled with army vehicles, army mules and heavily armed army jawans. The jawans from the ransacked camp joined the re-enforcement group in the village. The major, who was the commanding officer of the ransacked camp and who survived the attack briefed the commanding officer of the reinforcement group about what happened. The colonel who now is commanding the whole group assembled the jawans and shouted out his orders. Till this time, the villagers were huddled inside their houses scared like never before. The army spread out, some guarded the exit points from the village and majority of them got busy dragging out the villagers from their houses. Beating started right at the doorsteps. The whole village was made to assemble at the village playground. Every man in the village was beaten up badly. The village chief was shot dead and the secretary was beaten to death. The cows and buffaloes broke out of their sheds due to hunger and strayed away into the fields trampling the ripe crops. It was only at night that the villagers were allowed to go home and sleep for a short while. At dawn they were forcefully woken again and made to gather at the village ground. The army combed every house for the looted arms ignoring the fact that they were now in the hands of underground people deep in the jungle. The gathering at the village ground continued for a week with beating and torturing of the men folk happening all the way.

The district administration, police officers and civil society leaders were allowed to enter the village only after a weeklong torture. By then, five villagers including the village chief and secretary were dead, ten houses torched to ashes and almost all the granaries in the village either destroyed or burned down. This was how the army gave a tit for tat; not to the ones who provoked their anger, but to those innocent people who in some ways look like the men from the jungle. The granaries are gone and they will get near to nothing from the fields that have been taken care by the untended cattle. Though the pain due to the beating and sorrow of losing innocent lives were in everyone's tormented mind for the moment, their thoughts were tickled every now and then at the horror of going hungry the following year. For that particular tumultuous and disastrous year, the villagers were not able to comprehend who to blame; the mice that came in hordes signaling a bad year, their brothers in the jungle who were fighting for liberation or the Indian army who turn into unreasonable monsters at times of trouble.

No one in the village who survived the horror of that 'mice raining year' had forgotten the details of the torture and suffering unleashed on them. And for those who were born later, every year during Christmas the village joker educates them. On Christmas nights when the whole village is gathered in the newly constructed recreation hall, the joker takes the stage and imitate groaning and crying sounds of some people when they were beaten by the army, which he spices up to make them sound really funny. He curses mice in the name the gods of their ancestors. He nicknamed his village as ‘mice raining village’ and called his fellow villagers ‘descendants of mice from heaven.’ During those nights the roar of laughter could be heard even from the hilltop where the army camp used to be long time ago. Thus the village joker never failed to make the villagers laugh to their hearts’ content at the jokes derived from pain and lost.

The Strange Tombstone

On the way to the village, there is the village cemetery and there is one unique headstone on which is inscribed “For the Lord himself will come down from heaven with a commanding shout, with the voice of the archangel, and with the trumpet call of God. First, the Christians who have died will rise from their graves. 1 Thessalonians 4:16. Thank you father for sending me back.” Many people who read the inscription often wonder what ‘Thank you father for sending me back’ could possibly mean. The answer is known to most of the villagers, who would willingly tell you the tale of a strange man.

Everything was silent as he walked through the passage which was walled on both sides. He could hear the buzzing of bees and sounds of people murmuring but could not see a soul around. He walked on knowing not where he was heading as he could see no end of the walled passage. He suddenly saw his father standing in front of him, face turned sideways. He was relieved thinking he no longer would be lonely. His father asked him what he was doing there and that he should go back to whence he came from. He gestured to his father who was blocking his way that he intends to go ahead. He was scolded and was pushed by his father to head back. He was told to go and compete his work first and come back later. He was a little confused to which work his father was referring to. He had to head back, as his father won’t allow him to go forward. Suddenly he heard people crying, but still couldn't see anyone around him. He rubbed his eyes to enhance his vision. When he opened his eyes again, he saw so many people gathered around him and saw his mother crying. It was a dream where his father who had died long ago scolding and pushing him to go back. The people around him were assembled there to attend his funeral. He was as shocked as the people around him.

He found his head shaven and a copper coin placed on his forehead as was the ritual. When he was helped to sit up, he was sitting on a huge wooden plank, not his bed inside the house. A few feets away he saw the family grave opened and a small spear, dao, plate, bamboo mug, extra loin cloth already placed inside. It was opened two years back when his cousin died. Those days, people bury the dead outside the house in family vaults, which are dug out like slanting tunnels of about 12 feet deep and about 4.5 feet wide. The mouth of the vault was usually covered with a big stone. The vaults are used only if the last burial was more than a year. Vaults of relatives are used in case the last burial in the family vault is lesser than a year. The bones and remains of the previous burial are collected, washed with rice beer and wrapped in a piece of cloth and put back in the corner of the same grave. He was about to be buried in the same manner. If he had woken from that dead sleep a little late than he did, he actually could have died that day, buried alive. At that time there was an epidemic in the village and many in his age group have died. All the dead were buried hastily without performing the usual rituals fearing the spread of the disease if the corpses are kept too long in the open. As he came back to life, the elders in the village predicted that the boy would live for a long time and that he would do great things for the village. Some skeptics took the resurrection as a bad omen.

Paisho (youngest) was his name as he was the youngest in the family. Discarding his real name, the villagers started calling him 'Ringluishit' meaning 'the one who lived again.' He was repulsive to the new name initially but relented when the whole village started addressing him by the new name. The name after all was not as derogatory as other pseudonyms given to some people such as 'stinky' 'pan-head' 'rotten potato' etc. Most people in the village have funny names given mostly by the village prankster that relate to the foolish deeds committed by the family members. About a month after Ringluishit came back to life, his mother died suddenly. As the family was poor, the family elders decided that the dead rites be non-pompous. Thus, his mother was given a typical widow burial by just killing a pig. She was buried in the family vault where Ringluishit would have been buried a month back if he hadn’t come back. After the burial, the family from both the mother and father's side gathered to decide the fate of the orphaned children. Ringluishit had three elder brothers and one elder sister. The eldest one was just sixteen at that time. The elders concurred that the siblings would not be able to survive by themselves thus decided to adopt one each. Two children were given away to the mother's side and two were retained by the father's side. Ringluishit was adopted by Yangshi, the younger brother of his father who himself have four children. Yangshi's wife was not so happy about the arrangement and cajoled him often for not having claimed the older ones as they could at least be helpful in doing household and cultivation work unlike Ringluishit who was just nine years old. Not to make the child feel different, Yangshi told Ringluishit to address him as 'father' and his wife as 'mother' not as 'uncle' and 'aunty.' Though it sounded odd at first he got used to it very soon. So, Ringluishit lived in this adopted home and Yangshi treated him as a special child because of the quick learning ability of the kid.

When he turned ten, Yangshi asked Ringluishit whether he will be able to tend the cows which till then was tended by the village cowherd. His uncle felt that the cows were not taken good care of by the cowherd. Ringluishit happily accepted the offer and soon started taking out the cows in the morning and bringing them home every day in the evening. He especially enjoyed roaming the green mountainside with the cows. The only thing he doesn't like about tending cows was when it rains. He soon learned how to play the tingteila*. The tingteila once belonged to his father and was the only thing he took from the house where he once use to live with his mother, brothers and sister. Ringluishit took the tingteila along with him to the pastures most of the days. Though he doesn’t know to sing folk songs very well yet, he very often sing the few songs he knew playing the tingteila. His feeble pre-teen voice and the thick sound of the instrument doesn’t sound very melodious. However, he would sing on as this served as a perfect escapade from the boredom that he feel of being alone all the time with only the cows around. The village prankster once saw Ringluishit playing the tingteila and singing some folk song. The prankster patted Ringluishit on the shoulder and told him even the dogs sing better than him and laughed at the child until his eyes were filled with tears. In the village, the prankster spread the news that the frogs and cows sing folk songs whenever Ringluishit plays the tingteila. In stead of being hurt, Ringluishit decided to learn some folk songs from the elders to prove the Prankster wrong. He did learn some from the elders. He soon learned the art of telling time by listening to the crickets, frogs and the sound of cock crow heard from the village. This helped him to know the time of going home mainly during the rainy seasons when the sun gets hidden by the rain laden clouds. Though he hate the rain, he is partly thankful to mother nature as it is the season when he is able to gather and bring home bountiful supply of mushrooms for the family. He also brought home wild berries for the children who by now have become almost like his real brothers and sisters.

One rainy day, he came across a small mound covered with mushroom shoots while tending the cows. The bamboo basket he was carrying was too small to carry the whole lot home. He decided to weave a basket big enough to fit the whole thing in. He went and collected the variety of wild bamboo used for weaving baskets, sliced them into shape and sat down to weave. Hoisting his small well woven basket in front of him as his tutor he started weaving. The basket he made that day looked so silly that everyone in the village laughed at it and the maker, when he carried it through the village. Most of them didn't see the mushrooms inside as Ringluishit had to cover the basket with big leaves to make sure the mushrooms don't fall out of the big holes. When he reached home, everyone at home too could not help laughing at the basket's unearthly shape. However, when they saw the content of the basket they were surprised and were happy. Yangshi suggested that he probably should ask the village basket weaver to teach him. After having the evening meal, Ringluishit went to the village weaver to learn how to weave bamboo baskets. He luckily found the weaver busy weaving a basket singing some folk song under a lit pine torch. He watched silently for a long time as neither of them were in the mood to talk. The old man was too immersed in his folk song and the weaving and the little boy’s eyes were glued to the intricate movement of the old man’s hands as he weaved. He went home only when the weaver had finished the basket. After some days of self practice, he was finally weaving perfectly shaped bamboo baskets. Initially, the baskets were kept for household use, but when new baskets just continued coming, Yangshi's wife started exchanging them for household needs. Ringluishit's baskets started to be used by other villagers who once laughed at his first basket. Soon he also learnt how to weave bamboo mats which are used for drying paddy in the sun. Some of the elders in the village realized that the boy is a genius who is not ashamed of making mistakes and is not embarrassed if people laugh at his mistakes. He seem to consider laughter as a challenge. This could be the reason why people didn’t call him Mara (orphaned) which otherwise is a common nickname given to orphans.

One sunny day during the harvest season Ringluishit was weaving a mat under a tree with the cows grazing around. When he stretched himself and looked around, he saw two people walking down from the hills towards him. One person was dressed like him, wearing a loin cloth with a piece of shawl hung down on the shoulder, the other was wearing strange clothes which he had never seen before. When the two were very near he would have run if the other person who was dressed like him have not waved and shouted something in human language. The other person to him looked like a ghost of which he have heard from stories and rumors. He looked so white that his skin seems to glow in the sun. He stood his ground and when they reach where he was standing, the other person asked for direction to his village. Ringluishit was told that the white person was from a far far away land by the other person expecting he might stop starring at the white man. He also told him the white man brings good news for his village. The white person asked something which the person accompanying him in turn asked Ringluishit what is his name? Without thinking, he replied back 'Ringluishit.' The other person said something to the white man and he looked amused. The white man said something again and the person accompanying him asked why he was named Ringluishit? He told the person briefly of how he once died and was about to be buried but came back to life. The white man looked more amused by now. Not wanting to be asked anymore questions, he made an excuse of heading home with the cows. He gave them the direction and they parted.

When he reached home, the whole village was filled with the news of the strangers who have arrived in the village. The white man and his companion were made to stay in the house of the village chief. It was rumored that the people have come to the village to teach them new things about the world of the man who look like a ghost. Some of the village elders have already heard about the appearance of the white man from neighboring villages. Some neighboring villagers have even build houses for the white man. The villagers thought the strangers would be gone after a few days but they stayed on even after the harvest was over. It was rumored that the white man had asked the village chief for land to build a house and that the chief have consented as the request came from the district officials. True to the rumors, the white man with the help of few villagers started building a house. When the house was completed, the young people from the village were often requested to gather and the white man started teaching something strange through the interpreter. The villagers were told about God, His Son and the Holy Spirit. The white man glared at something and murmured out something which the interpreter tried his best to translate. In the beginning whatever the white man said make no sense at all. After a stay of a whole month by which time the interpreter was more familiar with the dialect of the village the teachings began to make more sense.

As all the crops were harvested, the cows were let free until the seed sowing season. Ringluishit too was free for at least two months. He spent most of the days bird trapping with the sticky gum he made from the sticky berry he collected during the harvest season. The gum is evenly spread on small twigs and placed on the streams where the birds come to drink water. Birds coming to drink water or swim get stuck on the the twigs, which are then collected. At the end of day he came home with more than hundred birds which are roasted and smoked as meat supply for the family. Due to his diligence he earned the love and affection of his foster father and mother. One day when he decided to stay at home he went around and inspected the new house build by the white man. He saw some children gathered inside the house listening to the white man and his interpreter. On seeing Ringluishit standing outside, the white man signaled him to come in. The white man had not forgotten meeting this child who rose from dead. He was made to stand in front of those people gathered to listen to the white man. The white man said something and the interpreter told the children that if they accept and worship the god of the white man, then they will all rise from dead just like Ringluishit. The children looked at each other in confusion and someone in the crowd giggled. The white man talked about many other confusing things one among them was of a man speared to death but rose to life after three days. The children were given sweets when the white man stopped talking seemingly because of getting tired. Apart from teaching the young people about some God, His Son and some Holy Spirit, the white man also gave medicines to those who were ill and many people miraculously recovered from their illnesses. The villagers began to believe that the white man’s god indeed must be powerful. Many people decided to convert at the end of two months.

Ringluishit was fascinated by the white man talking about a man rising from dead. With the hope that the white man may talk more about the kingdom of the dead he decided to visit the white man on alternate days, reserving the other days for fishing and bird trapping not wanting his parents to know he was spending his days listening to the white man. The white man was impressed by the attentiveness of Ringluishit and his curious questions and decided he would persuade his foster parents to send the child to a primary school in the district headquarter. The white man and his interpreter came to Yangshi’s house one evening and told their plan of sending Ringluishit to a school in Ukhrul. At first Yangshi and his wife argued that they are not going to send him under any circumstance. ‘School’ was a word which has never been heard of before. More than his safety, the foster parents were worried about the cows if Ringluishit was to go away. The white man counter argued and finally used some threat to make the ignorant parents bent to his design. He told the parents that if they refuse, the district administration would be informed about it and there would be a heavy penalty. However, if Ringluishit is send to school, the government would give them a yearly compensation of two rupees. Though the villagers don’t use money in the village, they feel the need of it when they have to do trade with other villages. Hundred annas make a rupee. An anna can buy so many things, the village elders often say. Those were days when one can buy a mountain for two rupees. The foster parents agreed to the plan when they heard about the compensation. It was decided then that Ringluishit should go to school in Ukhrul.

Very soon Ringluishit left the village. He came back after four years and left again without even staying for a week. He was a changed man and was wearing clothes worn by the white man. He finally came back after another three years of stay in Ukhrul and in Kangpokpi. He was now eighteen years and could speak to the white man in a strange language. By then, almost the whole village had become Christians and Ringluishit had been send by the white man to take care and teach the converts in his village about the God of the white man who now has become theirs too. He was now called ‘pastor.’ When the Great War broke out, Ringluishit was summoned by the white people to help them raise the labor corp. He became the main interpreter and was sent along with the labor corp to France. He came back only after the the war was over. The white people established a school in the village as reward for Ringluishit’s service and he was made the first headmaster of the school. It was through this school many of the village kids are going to get the chance to see the outside world. True to the words of the elders, Ringluishit lived for a very long time, long enough to see the grand celebration of the Platinum Jubilee of the village Church. Though he lived and died a devout Christian, Ringluishit never forgot he lived again because his father won’t let him past long time ago. Before he died he insisted that the words ‘Thank you father for sending me back’ be included in the inscription on his tombstone. For generations, whoever reads the headstone would wonder what ‘Thank you father for sending me back’ mean if some of the villagers don’t explain to them the story of Paisho who is fondly remembered as Ringluishit. This one tombstone in the village cemetery depicts the perfect meeting point of the old faith and the new one.

* Tingteila is an indigenous stringed musical instrument of the Tangkhul Nagas. The body is made of coconut shell covered with animal skin and the string of the fiddle bow is made of horse tail and bamboo.