A New Year Poem - Brenda Sailo

 

The year leaves softly,

Heavy with what I could not mend,

I set it down without protest,

Tired, but still believing.

 

The new year comes without promise,

Yet I step into it upheld by faith,

Not healed, but helped,

Not fearless, but strong enough to hold.

 

The calendar closes,

But I do not slam the door,

I bow,

And step on.

Brenda Sailo is an Assistant Professor of English. She lives in Aizawl with her husband and their two adorable young daughters. Though she does not often write poetry, she was inspired to write these beautifully written lines in a mood of melancholia at the passing year.  

 

Of Convoys and Road Journeys - Zualteii Poonte

 

It's late at night or in the very early hours of the morning that it happens. When the hubbub of the world is stilled, and all is silent as people rest tired bodies and lose themselves to dreams and deep slumber. It's not even something that I experience very often, being a sound sleeper. But once in a while, something awakens me and in the brief moments of wakefulness, I hear it. The distant rumble of a truck, the thrum of its engine or the long low honk of a truck horn as it wends its way along some road somewhere. Memories steal in, now mere fragments with the onslaught of time but vivid in their tenacity.

Long queues of trucks parked along a winding road in darkness. Military trucks, Bedford lorries, the odd jeep or two, an Assam State Transport bus¹ with its distinctive rhino symbol. As the trucks grind to a tired halt, my mind replays the sound I recall so well even these decades upon decades later – a sibilant hiss as compressed air from miles of driving over rough mountain terrain is released from the brakes. The handyman jumping smartly down from the elevated truck cabin to deftly place a wooden wedge against a rear wheel so the truck does not roll away. Passengers moving about quietly, stretching legs and backs after being cooped up inside the vehicles for hours, some making for nearby bushes in urgent answer to nature’s call.

Military escort parties then shepherded all vehicles moving around the territority laden with essential supplies and passengers, both military and civil. Convoy Commanders, usually young army captains, assigned to provide safe passage against insurgent ambushes, empowered to make stops and starts for the thirty to forty strong vehicle convoy and authorised to take any necessary action in the event of trouble.  With nighttime journeys obviously unthinkable, the convoy Commander would call for a night halt at day’s end and military personnel would unload provisions of water and rice bags and cook evening meals on kerosene stoves by the roadside. Most passengers carried their own tiffins, as they called them, while the army men would share their food with those with nothing to eat. Since I was a little too young to remember details, an older cousin with a sharper memory tells me that my grandmother would carry boiled eggs, potatoes and rice that she had laboriously prepared in advance to feed her little family enroute the long journey. Once the meals were eaten and cleared, passengers would get back to their respective vehicles for an uneasy, restless night’s sleep in cargo holds sheathed with thick waterproof tarpaulin. The next morning, after quick obligatory revisits to the nearby bushes, the truck engines would throb back to life and the convoy would be on the move once again. Another convoy traveller tells me that there was no washing of faces or brushing of teeth, unless there was a little stream nearby, no morning tea or meal, none of which particularly bothered poverty-hardened survivors of a famine which had directly caused the rambuai².

But it’s not just convoy memories that nocturnal motor sounds evoke. For years the only passage for Mizos to the rest of the world was via the Silchar³ route, now part of the Indian National Highway 54. A tortuously winding road snaking through the mountains with a steep fall on one side and cliff slopes overgrown with vegetation on the other, just barely wide enough for two heavy vehicles to pass each other. Landslides were common occurrences particularly during the rainy season, causing time-consuming delays and forcing travellers to sometimes spend several days in covering the slightly less than 200-kilometre distance between Aizawl and Silchar.

Having travelled up and down this highway several times in my early years, first for survival and refuge, and later for schooling in Shillong, Haflong⁴ and Darjeeling, I remember how fresh and bracing the mountain air felt especially when returning home from the scorching plains of Silchar. But the physical passage through it was often difficult and challenging. At times when the road was impassable due to landslides and rockfalls, travellers had to make do with spending nights either snatching naps in the buses, cars or jeeps, or taking grateful shelter in one of the little villages along the way, the inhabitants of which were used to unexpected overnight guests.

The shadow of rebel ambushes and attacks along travel routes persisted long after the rigid convoy travel restrictions for civilians were eased off. On one occasion, this time at the height of summer in June 1980, I was part of a college excursion tour visiting various cities in the country – Calcutta, Bombay (as they were then known) and Delhi where the first thing we did, after freshening up from the long train journey from Gauhati, was to visit Pu Laldenga, leader of the MNF, at the insistence of the boys in our tour party. He was then living in Delhi for peace negotiations with the Central Government, and as we all crowded into their sitting room, the boys hung on to his every word in hushed reverence as he spoke persuasively about politics in low, confidential tones, while most of the girls dozed off in exhaustion.

By the end of the tour, we finally headed home, piling onto our hired Mizoram State Transport Bus at Silchar, relieved to leave behind the heat of the plains and breathe in refreshing cool air. We happily sang songs (as Mizos tend to do when riding long distance in vehicles) – patriotic Mizo songs, Christian songs, and the bus sailed past the small border towns of Vairengte and Bilkhawthlir without incident. At the outskirts of the next town, Kolasib, we were stopped to be told that MNF rebels had ambushed an Indian Army bus, killing four and injuring others, literally minutes after we had driven past. One of the boys remarked that the rebels had probably already been in position, hiding and waiting in the bushes by the road, and seen and heard us singing as we moved past. It was an unsettling thought.

I recall that it was also on this occasion that the bus was stopped once more, this time because there had been an accident, of which there were regrettably many, given the treacherous terrain. A truck had driven off the road and a rescue effort was underway for the victims. As we got off the bus to stretch our legs, a team of rescue volunteers were just climbing out of the ravine with one of the bodies – a smallish figure, a woman we were told, slackened in death, and respectfully laid by the roadside, shrouded in a Mizo puan⁵. Mizos are reverential with their dead, with a “mitthi puan” traditionally brought by mourners to drape over the mortal remains of the departed soul by way of paying their last respects. In case of accidents in isolated places such as road accidents, at least one or two women who happen to be nearby quickly remove their puan to cover the body. Or when YMA⁶ rescue teams set out in search of missing persons, many volunteers carry along a puan in case the missing is found dead.

It's been many years since but I remember all too well the sound and feel of sitting in a vehicle lumbering along the mountain roads, swaying and lurching past kilometre after kilometre of thick jungles and little highway hamlets. The steady hum of the engine gently lulling passengers into exhausted sleep, woven into which were the frequent honks of the motor as it navigated the many twists and turns through the winding road, while manoeuvring past the many goods trucks coming from Silchar, heavy-laden with provisions for the Mizo populace.

In retrospect, I suppose having spent so much of my early life on those long road journeys, I will always retain a great deal of nostalgia for sights and sounds that remind me of those days, no matter how traumatic or exhausting. And nighttime sounds will continue to wake me from time to time, bringing in whispers of those long gone, long done, long ago yesterdays.

 

 

¹Assam State Transport: Mizoram was earlier part of the state of Assam and called the Mizo Hills District before becoming the Union Territory of Mizoram in 1972 and achieving full statehood in 1987

²rambuai - the Mizo Uprising/ Revolt (known as the buai or rambuai in Mizo) led by the Mizo National Front (MNF) which broke out on March the 6^th 1966 with a declaration of independence from the Indian government, a direct consequence of the Mautam famine of 1960 when the Indian govt. did little to help the Mizo people

³Silchar - a small town in Assam 

⁴Haflong – a small town and hill station in Assam

⁵puan – traditional attire for Mizo women, a sarong-like cloth wrapped around the waist and covering the legs

⁶YMA – Young Mizo Association, the largest secular, non-government group in the state

 

Mid-June, Mid-Monsoon - Zualteii Poonte

Mid-June, mid-monsoon,

raindrops cluster on windows,

tree branches sway in the wind outside.

The front page of Vanglaini this morning carries

a picture of workers in a clearing on a steep hillside,

bent low and weeding,

The caption says the YMA of Samthang village yesterday

came together to weed the land of a farmer

ailing and unable to tend to his land.

The paper also says there were 83 volunteers in all.

In the face of rapidly changing values and priorities,

Tlawmngaihna lives on,

and my faith in humanity is restored

this dismal monsoonal day.

Writer's note: This poem was inspired by this photograph that appeared on the front page of Vanglaini (Mizoram's widest-selling daily newspaper) on the 18th June 2025. The spirit of tlawmngaihna, the jewel in the crown of Mizo culture, clearly lives on today: small, quiet, unobtrusive gestures of humanity that are never splashed all over social media or even seem to be part of our contemporary life anymore but instinctively come to the fore when the need arises.

Mannequins - Lalremengmawia Khenglawt

 

They come alive where light enters not,
Where blight blankets the deep undergrowth,

Where one has to squat and squint,
To chance upon the thought of a glimpse

The passage of time is strange;
It makes the lucid deranged

It renders mechanical joints to creak and moan,
While the dearth of it makes grown men groan

Audibly, yet the mass of likeness offends no audiophile
On the contrary, they are simply lined up in a pile

For the next make-believe organ to come along,
Till the whole forms a singular throng

And when you prop them up in broad daylight,
It becomes clear that they are not quite right

They are like us - the illusion of skin and bone,
Two bulging temples, housed by a skeletal dome

But they do not feel like we do, they dare not
Let emotions out to wander and trot

For emotions unchecked tend to run riot,
Till deep dark secrets are no longer private

They only emerge in tandem with the shadow,
Always mindful to avoid the evening glow

But if you ever chance upon them in the dead of night,
I implore you to chide your primal urge to take flight

Seek them, look where the light enters not,
Where unrelenting blight blankets the deep undergrowth.

 

Lalramengmawia Khenglawt  loves nature and draws inspiration from hikes around the outskirts of Aizawl where he lives and works. He gave a reading of this poem recently at a Poetry over Coffee programme organised by the Department of English, Govt. Aizawl College, of which he is a proud alumnus.

Funerals and Burials - Malsawmdawngliana and R. Lalsangpuii

In all societies, when a person dies, family, friends, and neighbours respond in structured, patterned ways to the death. Cultural guidelines determine the treatment and disposal of the body and prescribe a period of mourning for close relatives. Death ritual, like much of human behaviour, is an expression of a cultural blueprint, of attitudes, values and ideals passed down by parents, and their parents, which an individual learns as a member of society. The analysis of mortuary practices provides rich data on the behaviour of kin and community. It leads to people’s notions of gods, souls, witches, spirits and worlds, promising access to their belief and value systems, to their conceptions of the social and moral worlds. It informs that rituals have consequences for both the individual and society.

Death was feared and treated with seriousness in the pre-colonial Mizo society. Euphemisms were used to describe it, such as “zan khat mitchhin” (closing the eyes within a night) or “hnuk chat,” where “hnuk” refers to an imaginary cord and “chat” means snapping or breaking. When someone died, it affected and stirred the emotions of their family and the wider community, and was mourned with profound sorrow according to customary law.

In Mizo culture, when someone passed away, senior members of the family or tribe would wash the body. Then, the body was placed in a bamboo structure in a sitting position. A long red cotton cloth was wrapped around the chin through the top of the head of the deceased. Similarly, among the Maras in the south, the corpse was placed on a stretcher in a diagonal position against the wall. The body was then dressed in its best robes and decorated with the deceased’s beads and any other ornaments available. If the person had a plume, it was also placed in their hair. These were some of the traditions observed during mourning in these cultures.

 

T.H. Lewin had observed that:

“The corpse is then dressed in its finest clothes, and seated in the centre of the house in a sitting posture. On the right hand is laid the dead man’s gun and weapons; on the left side, the wife weeping. All the friends assemble and there is a big feast. Food is placed before the dead man, who sits upright and silent among them; and they dress him saying, ‘You are going on a long journey, eat.’”

 

After a person dies in Mizo culture, their body is dressed in their finest clothes and placed in a sitting posture, fastened to a bamboo frame. A big feast is prepared for friends and neighbours, and food and drinks are offered to the deceased. On the evening following the death, the body is buried just opposite the house. A wife must wrap her husband’s dead body with a pawndum or zawlpuan, which is traditionally obligatory for every girl to own. It is also customary for a wife to take such clothes to her husband’s house

Throughout history, collective mourning has been a part of the Mizo mourning process for the deceased. Gender roles were evident in the death rituals, as women, especially close relatives, would participate in collective wailing. It is also clear that funeral customs among the Mizos emphasized the importance of social relations based on kinship.

The clothing, dresses, material buried along the corpse and rituals like the firing of guns and striking of gongs frequently express values of identity and incorporation. All these rituals symbolized the deceased’s status and indicated his or her role in society. In the case of the death of a Pasal\ha (a notable warrior), the body was decorated with guns, fungki (a gunpowder horn) to indicate his identity as a warrior.  Death rituals were also greatly affected by the nature of how a person died, generally the deceased was dressed according to his status in the society. Accordingly, when a warrior died, he was dressed with all his appropriate armour and attire. Similar treatment is seen in the case of the death of the Thangchhuah pa and the chief.

Conversely, unusual deaths like sarthi (accidents), raicheh (death of a woman at childbirth) and hlamzuih (when a child dies shortly after birth) involved a few different rituals which were much less expensive. Sometimes, such deaths are buried without any ceremony or ritual.

Among the Mizos, if the mitthi vui ceremony couldn’t be held on the day of the person’s passing, it was customary to observe an overnight vigil with the deceased until morning. However, in the case of the death of a mi\ha (affluent family), the ceremony was extended according to convenience since it requires more preparation than ordinary families. There was no chanting known or connected with this ceremony, but it was evident that crying and weeping by close families, friends and natives was common on this occasion. Among the Mizos, crying and weeping indicated the deepest sorrow. Therefore, when death took place, the number of people who cried or wailed upon the deceased was a good indicator of the status of the deceased. The use of music while performing death rituals was also seen in the funeral procession, especially of the mi\ha (affluent) family, where Darkhuang (a large gong) and darbu (a set of three different-sized gongs) were played by a group of people. These musicians position themselves according to convenience, often within the house on the sumhmun (the verandah) and luhkapui (the platform in front of a Lushai house). While the aforementioned mourning ceremony unfolded inside the house, this group played gongs. It is likely that the songs sung while performing this ritual were “Kanlal lai”, “mitthirawpchawi”, and “nguntethi”.

In the past, the death of affluent persons in certain villages was marked with a distinct ceremony. Households in the village that owned guns would carry loaded guns to the deceased person’s house. Upon reaching the verandah of the house, they would discharge their guns, pointing towards the sky. This firing sound symbolises the death of the affluent person. There was hardly any ceremony for an ordinary family’s death, and the involvement of a priest was not known. However, for the affluent person’s funeral, the main ceremony was marked by the incorporation of Chawnglaizuan, which is a type of dance also known as Chawnglaizawn.

After the dance, the deceased’s body was placed on a hlang, which is a support designed to keep the corpse in an upright position. Then, the corpse was lifted and carried from the front of the house towards the grave. During this procession, the body was tossed up and down three times and accompanied by music played on a set of small gongs called darbu and a large gong called Darkhuang. People wept and cried as they slowly walked towards the grave.

Once the corpse was buried, old men and women would gather in the house of the deceased, each carrying their own zu (rice beer), lamenting in the form of songs that are best suited to arouse the sentiments of the bereaved. Songs like Khiangi nu zai, Darpawngi\ah zai, Lianchhiari zai and Chawngvunginu\ah zai were sung, which continued until bedtime.

In Mizo tradition, whenever a person died, it was customary to perform thlaichhiah, which involved sacrificing four-legged domesticated animals. Pigs and goats were commonly killed, but wealthier families also killed mithun. However, poorer families often had difficulty meeting the expenses associated with performing such rituals.

Among the Luseis and their related tribes, the day following the burial ceremony was observed as “Thlannghah.” On this day, relatives from nearby villages who couldn’t attend the burial would gather at the deceased’s house to show sympathy to the bereaved family members, known as “in ral”. Each person contributed their traditional rice beer, called “zu”, and spent the day drinking and singing traditional songs, called “khawhar zai”. By evening, a meal was prepared for those coming from other villages.

One of the most important feasts for the dead is the Mim Kut festival. It was held at the end of August or the beginning of September and was regarded as a festival in honour of the deceased. The village chief and elders fixed the date for celebrating the festival. Before the day of the festival, “zu” was fermented in every house, and all kinds of vegetables were brought from their “lo” (jhums) to their homes in advance. On the day of the festival, all village households stayed at home and regarded it as a day of rest. Men and women drank “zu” throughout the day, and offered the first fruits of their vegetables to their deceased relatives. They pounded glutinous rice, wrapped it in plantain leaves, and made Mizo bread or dumplings. Some were offered to children, and some to the dead. They believed that during the Mim Kut, the spirits of their departed relatives came home to eat the vegetables and dumplings and that the festival gave rise to tender feelings, sentiments, and renewed longing for their deceased loved ones.

The Mim Kut festival was celebrated for three days. The day after was a day of rest, and on the third day, the vegetables that had been offered to the spirits of the dead were collected, cooked and eaten by the living. During this festival, zu was served, and songs were sung. According to their belief, the spirits of the dead had now departed and returned to the land of the dead, so there was no need to continue offering food to them. This is why the month of August is traditionally known as Thi |in thla, the month when which the dead disperse from the land of the living.

The Lusei people have a strong belief in the constant presence of the spirits of their deceased ancestors, which requires them to propagate through ritual practices and sacrifices embedded in the sakhua worship. One of the primary feasts that honors the dead is Thangchhuah, also known as mit-thi-rawp-lam. During this festival, effigies of the deceased are created and placed on a bamboo stretcher. The oldest living clan member offers a zu to each effigy while uttering a charm. After attending to all the effigies, the individual breaks a gourd on the ground, bursts into tears, and retreats into their house for a month. The effigies are then paraded around the village, signifying a pleasing act to the spirit of the ancestors. This reflects the community’s belief in the influence of their ancestors’ spirits on their well-being.

 

Burials:
Most of the Mizo tribes bury their dead but they did not seem to have any designated burial place, and in some cases, the places of burial differ from tribe to tribe. But generally, burial customs were ubiquitous throughout the different Mizo tribes. There are different customs regarding the disposal of the dead body among the well-to-do families and the chief’s family. However, burial was common among the general masses, and the Mizo notion of ‘good’ and ‘bad’ deaths played a significant role in prescribing the kind of burial.  Even the modes of preparation of the grave were different, on the status of the deceased; accordingly, they prepared different types of graves for burying the dead bodies.

 

1. Tianhrang Thlan: It is a tradition when a youth or warrior dies that the grave is dug as deep as possible to show their respect and care for them. The bottom of the grave was made to slope instead of levelling the ground so that the deceased appeared to be standing in a slanting position as the grave known as Tianhrang Thlan. This type of burial was also found among the Lai of the Southern Hills.  When a great, prominent and highly favoured person in the village died, after digging the grave to a depth of a man’s chest, on the uphill side of the grave they would excavate a cave long and wide enough for the corpse in an inclined posture.

The body was laid according to the shape of the grave in a slanting position leaning against the wall of the grave.  The walls of the grave would be lined with stone slabs. They placed the corpse in the cavity at the top in a slanting manner. Lastly, they would cover the body with a huge slab of stone. This kind of grave was known as ‘Tian-hrangthlan’.

 

2. Khaukhurh: It is a common form of burying the dead bodies of ordinary people. The whole body was covered with a coarse bamboo matting (dap) around the body instead of clothes, a piece of wood was also used in some place. A hole about 5 feet deep was burrowed out on a wall for placing the corpse. When the burial takes place, they push the corpse head first into the hole and close it with a coarse bamboo mat. Finally, the grave was filled with earth.  Stones and wood were used as a lid to the hole where the corpse was placed. Generally, a flat stone was used to close the hole, but there is evidence that logs of wood were also used according to convenience.

3. Lungkuang: It is a grave prepared especially for chiefs as well as for other prominent persons. The term lungkuang means a grave made of stone. When after digging about 4 feet deep, a hole was made at one side of the grave wall preferably to the eastern side for putting the corpse. It is interesting to note that the floor and each wall of the hole were made of flat stones. Thus, after putting a corpse, the hole was closed with flat stone and then the grave was filled in with mud.

 

4. Kuang ur: The practice of Kuang ur was common among the Lusei and many other Non-Lusei tribes. In the case of the mi\ha (affluent) family kuang ur was common. Kuang means a coffin, a trough, a groove and ur means to smoke, fumigate, to heat or bake. This tradition was exclusively practised in the deaths of chiefs and a few mi\ha (affluent family in the society).

 

The dead body is placed in a box made by hollowing out a log, a slab of wood is placed over the opening, and their joint is plastered up with mud. This rough sort of coffin is placed in the deceased’s house near the wall. A bamboo tube is passed up through the floor through a hole in the bottom of the coffin and into the stomach of the corpse. The other end is buried in the ground. A special hearth is made close to the coffin and a fire is kept burning day and night on this for three months, and during the whole of this time the widow of the deceased, if he leaves one, must sit alongside the coffin. Over this hearth are hung valuables owned by the deceased. About six weeks after placing the corpse in the coffin, the latter is opened to see if the destruction of the corpse is proceeding properly and if necessary the coffin is turned round to present the other side to the fire. The opening of the coffin is celebrated by the killing of a pig and the partaking of the usual drink and is known either as enlawk or looking or examining. When it is thought that the flesh has completely rotted away, the coffin is opened and the bones removed. The skull and the larger bones are removed and kept in a basket, which is placed on a special shelf opposite the hearth. The remainder of the bones are collected and buried generally in a ware pot.

As stated above, the death of a chief was mourned with unique rituals distinct from those observed for ordinary persons in the village. Kuang ur demanded significant workforce for extended periods, accompanied by substantial expenses due to the continuous feasting of mourners until the final opening of the coffin. This practice was viewed as a tribute to the deceased chief, serving as a final act of glorification of the dead chief and a means to show his prominence in society.

 

Reference:

Malsawmliana, ‘Traditional Burial System of the Mizos,’ Historical Journal Mizoram. Vol.XIV,

Nov,2013.

Lalthangliana, B, Mizo Culture, Aizawl, The Author, 2014.

Lorrain, R.A, Five Years in Unknown Jungles, Aizawl Mizoram, Tribal Research Institute, 1988.

Lewin, T.H, The Hill Tracts of Chittagong and the Dwellers Therein, Reprint, New Delhi,

Tribal Research Institute, 2004.

Chaldailova, R, Mizo Pi Pute Khawvel, Aizawl, Vanlalnghaki, 2011.

Mizo te Khawsak Phung, Aizawl Mizoram, Tribal Research Institute, 1993.

Lianthanga, C, Hmanlai Mizo Nun, Aizawl, Mizoram Publication Board, 1999.

Lalthangliana, B, A brief History and Culture of  Mizo, Aizawl, The Author,2014.

Saiaithanga, Mizo Sakhua, Aizawl, Maranatha Printing Press.

A second extract from the excellent "Windows to the Past: Cultural Heritage of the Mizo" by Dr. Malsawmdawngliana and his wife, Dr. R. Lalsangpuii.  The book offers a comprehensive delineation of the Zo ethnic tribes' cultural heritage and traditions, including history, craft heritage and traditional practices – definitely a useful and invaluable handbook for anyone interested in researching Mizo cultural history.