By Bhogtoram Mawroh
The death of two Khasi boys from food poisoning in Karnataka, after being forced to eat Holi leftovers, raise serious questions about the safety of out-of-state students and the underlying communal politics. While the death of both the boys is highly upsetting, I felt hurt by the demise of Khrehlang Khongtani from Lyndem village. Initially, I thought the village was the one I had once passed through on my way to Wahkhen, a very famous tourist spot known for having a hospital dedicated to traditional Khasi medicine and a death-defying bamboo stairway which leads to a viewpoint. However, one of my relatives informed me that the village was actually the one which was on the way to my village, Nongjri-Rana. The knowledge that the boy hailed near to my village threw me into a rage. The anger was not just about the loss of a precious life, but the realisation that it could very well have been one of my own that could have fallen to the same fate.
My family, especially my late uncle, were followers of Niam Tynrai, the indigenous faith of the Khasi. He was a very devout man and his faith was a significant source of strength for him. Although many family members converted to Christianity, he remained steadfast in his indigenous faith. Being the Kni or maternal uncle, he was close to my late mother, and he took care of our property since we had settled in Shillong. Before his death, I had become quite close to him and would discuss with him about various business ventures that we could undertake together. As for his loyalty to his indigenous faith, there was a particular incident which had made a lasting impression on me.
When I was doing my PhD, I was in great mental and emotional turmoil. It was during this time that I visited him in the village. We talked about many things and he told me that whatever the challenges, we have to be strong. He used the Khasi term “hap pyneh,” loosely translating to “you have to be strong.” Those words have become an indelible part of my life. He then offered to perform some rituals for me to help with my healing. Willing to try anything, I agreed to his offer.
He called another of our relatives who brought a chicken, a wooden board with a handle and an egg. We took all the three items to the nearby stream near the village. There our relative, Masaw, gutted the chicken and took out the entrails. He examined the entrails and interpreted the meaning of the augury. Then he took the egg and threw it against the board. The force shattered the egg, scattering the shell fragments everywhere. Masaw again examined the shells. He offered a prayer and then threw the entrails into the stream. Thereafter, we returned home. Did the ritual work? I don’t know. I was always a skeptic, and I remembered questioning the existence of God while I was in class VI or VII. It was much later that I declared myself as an atheist. In fact, this proved to be a big problem. When I first joined the PhD program, I went for a job interview. Although I didn’t get the position, I was the runner-up. My senior got the job, but the pressure groups hounded her out because she was a non-Khasi. She was a gold medalist, and I had looked up to her as an inspiration. Her termination was an enormous loss for the students and the college. I should have received the job offer according to the merit list. But after I informed the management (Catholic college) that I was an atheist, they decided not to select me. So, I am not really sure if the ritual helped me recover because it still took me a few more years before I made peace with my challenges. But the kindness shown to me by my uncle has always remained with me.
My uncle fell from a tree while he was working in one of our areca nut plantations. I was told that the first person to find him and get help was his Bangladeshi friend from across the border. This person would help my uncle with the harvest and had requested him to find a job in the Khasi villages since he did not want to stay in his country any more. I found the prospect of a Bengali Muslim man caring for and potentially slaughtering the pigs intriguing. But then people preoccupied with daily survival cannot afford to be pretentious about their religious affiliations. His friendship with the Bangladeshi man was intriguing, especially since he had also fired his rifle at several Bangladeshis who were attempting to steal our harvest. I never got to ask him how he became friends with the man.
They took him to NEIGHRIMS, and I went with him. However, the rude behaviour of some of the junior doctors annoyed him and he decided to put his trust in traditional medicine. That was when we took him to Wahkhen. I visited the place a few times when he was being treated there. Not long after, he passed away, and I was back in the village again for the last rites. I expected that there would be a Niam Tynrai funeral service, but to my surprise, it was a Christian one. When did he convert to Christianity? Or was his family forced to become Christians after his death in order for the last rites to be performed? I never asked, knowing full well that it would have undoubtedly been a difficult decision, and I had no right to interfere in it. Therefore, they buried him in a coffin with his wait (Khasi machete) and star (harness for carrying the basket). After we got back home, the whole family gathered around and started counting the money that we had received from guests who attended the funeral. The money was short by a few thousands with the expenditure exceeding the donations. They interpreted this as a sign of my uncle’s insufficient virtue in life. One elder called out his name and lamented at the shortcomings by gently scolding him. The next day, I returned home.
Even though my aunt had built a house out of wood and cement, my uncle was still living in a bamboo hut. The house stood on a platform, requiring one to climb a bamboo staircase to enter. His children were still very young when he passed away. If the family had remained Niam Tynrai, it was very much possible that the Lei Synshar Cultural Society would have taken them for studies outside the state. While the initiative is commendable, there have been concerns raised about it in the past as well.
Sanjana Chappali’s report, ‘A Strange and Bitter Crop,’ originally published by TEHELKA, revealed many disturbing facts about the impact on children taken to Karnataka for study. The report shared many disturbing details, which can be summarized in this sentence from the report: Living in environments so different from their own culture, language, religion, and food has a devastating physical and mental impact on the children. Those children who survived the food poisoning reported that the school made them do hard physical labour. The report also talks about attempts at religious indoctrination into Hinduism. The report states that instructors taught the children Brahminical chants, Hindu religious festivals, and a shift away from a primarily non-vegetarian Meghalayan diet to vegetarianism. For a religion and culture which is older than Hinduism in South Asia, this attempt at weaning indigenous children away from their indigenous culture in the name of protecting them from conversion to Christianity is highly disturbing. But what is most disturbing is that two organisations, Seng Khasi and Sein Raij, who claim to be protectors of the indigenous faith, have not made public statements expressing condolence or condemnation of the deaths that have taken place. It is difficult to understand the silence unless the lives of the poor don’t matter no matter which faith they belong to.
There is angst among the adherents of indigenous faith against Christian missionaries who they accuse of having destroyed the indigenous culture. Now that Khasis are predominantly Christian, there is a complaint of bias against those from indigenous faith. But sometimes people forget that, when Khasis first converted to Christianity, the community ostracised and expelled many. Nabon Sawian, believed to be the first Khasi woman to convert to Christianity, is one example. In 2018, filmmakers released a film titled ‘Nabon, A Journey of Faith’ detailing her experience. So, it is very much possible that if followers of indigenous faith were still in the majority, those who adopted Christianity would have been the ones persecuted. But it also doesn’t mean that the marginalisation should continue. It is this animosity which is responsible for the death of Khrehlang Khongtani and Tobarlin Nongsiej from Sohparu, West Khasi Hills. It is, therefore, very important that we ensure such tragedies are not repeated. Never again!
(The views expressed in the article are those of the authors and do not reflect in any way his affiliation to any organization or institution)