By Bhogtoram Mawroh
The Khasis, like many indigenous hill communities, were a pre-literate society before they came into contact with the British. It does not appear that they ever had a script, although there is a folktale that attempts to describe the lack of script to an accident. According to this folktale titled ‘the lost book’ in the 1920 book ‘Folk-tales of the Khasis’ by Mrs Rafy, in the beginning God called a Khasi man and a foreigner (Dkhar) to his abode so that he can pass his knowledge to them. This knowledge was as a book which was given to both to carry back to their homeland. However, on the way home, there was a wide river which had to be crossed. The Dkhar took the book and wrapped it in his long hair which he twisted firmly on the top of his head. However, because the Khasi man had short hair, he had to hold the book between his teeth while swimming. The Dkhar could cross safely with the book intact, which was then used to teach the wisdom received to his own people. Unfortunately, the torrential current caused the Khasi man to lose the book intended for his people as he struggled to swim and breathe with the book in his mouth. And thus, the Khasis lost their script.
There’s another story which is connected to lost knowledge from the same book. It’s called ‘U Biskurom’ who was actually the Hindu god, Vishvakarma, who is the deity of tools and metallurgy. In this story, the Khasis captured U Biskurom, trying to force him to share divine knowledge with them. Worried that the Khasis would not let him go back home, the god pleaded to the Khasis that he could only get the knowledge from heaven. Therefore, he suggested they make a strong kite tied to a long piece of string. He would use the kite to ascend to heaven and then he would write the knowledge on the kite and send it down. But after reaching home, he decided not to share the knowledge with people who had mistreated him. Angry, the Khasis sent a great shout to heaven to kill the god for his betrayal. U Biskurom caused some drops of blood to fall from heaven, fooling the Khasis that they had killed him. This is also another reason the Khasis never gained the knowledge of writing.
There are so many interesting aspects to these stories. While it is about lost knowledge, it is also about the time when the Khasis came into contact with Dkhars i.e., foreigners, and how they tried to gain knowledge from them, through peaceful and not-so-peaceful means but failed on both occasions. There is a suggestion that when the Syiems of the bigger Himas, like that of Hima Jaintiapur (formerly Hima Sutnga) conquered the land of the Dkhars, they used the Brahmins to write letters to the other rulers of the region. The Jayantia Buranji is an excellent record of the correspondence between Hima Jaintiapur and the Ahom kingdom of upper Assam. In the same document, there is also mention of Hima Khyrim, also sending envoys to the Ahom court. So, by the 16th century, the Khasi royalty appear to have gained literacy through the scribes and Brahmin priests in their court. However, the common people still continued to rely on oral traditions to transmit their knowledge. This oral tradition is now leading to archaeological discoveries which are allowing modern scholars to reconstruct Khasi history.
Among the oral traditions, the most famous is the tale of Lum Sohpetbneng. According to his legend, in this hill overlooking the Umiam Lake there existed a navel string which drew heaven and earth together. Known sometimes as the golden staircase, the celestial families used this to come down to earth to farm. It is well established that the Khasis were among the first wave of Austroasiatic people who brought agriculture to South East Asia and South Asia. They possibly were among the first farmers in the world and part of the early ancient farming societies as described in the 2005 book ‘The First Farmers: The Origin of Agricultural Societies’ by Peter Bellwood. In his 2018 book ‘Ancient DNA and the New Science of the Human Past: Who We Are and How We Got Here’ David Reich also believes them to be the ‘Ghost Populations of the Yangtze Rivers’ who expanded from the rice growing area of the Yangtze river valley contributing to the ancestry of groups today found in South East Asia (by extension to North East and Central India as well) and Taiwan. There is an agricultural prayer in Namita Catherine Shadap’s 1969 thesis ‘The Origin and the Early History of the Khasi-Synteng People’ directed at U Blei Nongthaw (The God of Creation) and Ka Blei Synshar (The Goddess who rules over everything) to bless their labour and forgive their trespasses. Thus, the Khasis have always been farmers—among the earliest in the world, at that.
However, the connection between heaven and earth was severed, stranding seven families on earth separated from the nine above. Many versions explain this event, but I recently discovered a lesser-known one. This comes from the book ‘Jaintia Folklore and Legends and the History of the Khasi religion’ by Mrs John Roberts published around the 1920s. According to this version, it was a creeper which connected heaven and earth. However, one day when a Khasi man was trying to cut a tree for firewood, he accidentally hacked the creeper. Severed from its source, the part connected to earth died while the other part was drawn up to heaven leaving the two now separated. Interestingly, the Khasi word for creeper, ‘jyrmi’, also describes the aerial roots of trees such as Ficus elastica—the same species used to build living root bridges in the War region (the southern part of present-day Khasi and Jaintia Hills), a steep, forest-covered area. During the monsoon season, torrential rainfall would swell up the streams, which make crossing them very dangerous. At some point in time, the War must have learned the art of maneuvering the aerial roots of Ficus elastica to build the living root bridges, not found elsewhere in the world.
The version described above could very well be the original form of the Lum Sohpetbneng story, which, over time, became identified with the place as ancient Khasis continued moving westward. As Hima Sutnga—founded by the War Amwi—eventually became Hima Jaintiapur, the story became associated with the people of the kingdom, who were predominantly Pnar speakers. These Pnar were originally War people who began settling in the plateau region of what is now the Jaintia Hills. The Pnar language appears to have begun as a dialect of War, emerging around 1,400 years ago. Researchers have found that War Amwi is the oldest of all the Khasi languages, originating from Palaung around 4000 years ago. This 4000 years period is very interesting because it brings us back to Lum Sohpetbneng.
Lum Sohpetbneng holds a very important place in Khasi cosmology. Marco Mitri, a historian from NEHU, used the folktale surrounding it to identify sites for his archaeological digs. He discussed this in great detail in his 2008 thesis, ‘Archaeological Investigation in the Khasi and Jaintia Hills: A Study on the Distribution Patterns of Neolithic Sites (An Ethno-archaeological Approach)’. The result was the discovery of the oldest Neolithic settlement found in Meghalaya, dated to over 3200 years ago. Later, he found the oldest Neolithic workshop in Myrkhan, a village to the north, dated to around 4000 years ago. The clues for these sites came from the folktales. In time, researchers may discover many more sites through other oral narratives.
Folklore and other oral narratives serve as a window into the history and culture of ancient peoples like the Khasis. Despite lacking a written language in the past—and their initial efforts to acquire one (they later adopted the Roman script)—these folk narratives contain a wealth of information about the community. Indeed, over time, they may become the light that illuminates the path to greater discoveries.
(The views expressed in the article are those of the author and do not reflect in any way his affiliation to any organisation or institution)