By Dapbianglin Sohkhlet
Among the indigenous Khasi community, words have never been understood as a mere form of communication. ka ktien ka thylliej, words are believed to carry power, power that heals and power that harms, power that blesses and power that curses. This belief, preserved across generations, lies at the very heart of Khasi identity and moral life.
Our ancestors consistently reminded us, “Ban kren da thew bad ym kren lamler ioh poi sha ka sang ka ma.” Speak with care and do not speak falsely, lest words lead to ruin and destruction. These words were not uttered casually. They were warnings shaped by experience, by observation, and by a deep understanding of how speech shapes reality. In Khasi belief, words are never neutral. Once spoken, they act.
What is unique about this belief system is the recognition that not everyone equally holds the power of words. The skill of the tongue, known as “ka sap ka ktien,” is understood as a sacred gift carried through generations. It is not just any kind of person who holds this power. Only some are believed to be specially blessed by God himself. These individuals, often elders, healers, or spiritually entrusted members of the community, are respected not because they speak often, but because their words carry weight. Their blessings are believed to bring well-being and prosperity; their curses are feared because words, once spoken by such tongues, are believed to take effect.
Among the Khasi people, words that cure a person can also be words that curse a person. The same tongue that offers healing can inflict harm if misused. This is why restraint, truthfulness, and moral discipline are inseparable from speech. Words are understood as both medicine and sword.
What stuns me the most is a story I once heard from an elder, a story that continues to challenge how we understand belief, healing, and the limits of explanation. There was a woman who had been in labour pain for nearly forty-eight hours. She suffered continuously, exhausted and struggling, yet unable to deliver her child. Despite all efforts, nothing changed. An elderly woman then intervened, someone recognised for her wisdom and spiritual insight. She did not suggest any physical remedy. Instead, she asked that the woman’s husband be called. He was asked a single question: whether he had committed any act of infidelity, sexual or emotional, during his wife’s pregnancy. When the husband confessed to the wrongdoing he had committed, something extraordinary occurred. Almost immediately, the woman delivered her child successfully. The baby was born healthy and unharmed.
How can such a belief hold so much power? How can words be so powerful that even scientific knowledge struggles to explain them?
Within Khasi belief, this is not viewed as a coincidence. It is understood through “ka ktien ka thylliej”. Silence, especially when it conceals wrongdoing, is believed to bind life. Truth, once spoken aloud, releases it. Moral imbalance is not merely personal; it affects the body, the family, and the community as a whole. Among the Khasi people, truth is not only ethical, it is curative.
Most of the modern era dismisses such beliefs as superstition. Yet Khasi beliefs remain so deeply rooted and consistently practised that even science cannot fully explain their effects. This is not because Khasi belief rejects science, but because it recognises that science does not account for every dimension of human experience. Healing is not always biological alone; it is moral, emotional, spiritual, and communal.
Another powerful example of ka ktien ka thylliej lies in the belief that words are meant to be spoken not only to humans, but to all living and breathing beings created by God. Animals, plants, forests, rivers, and nature as a whole are believed to respond to words. Elders speak of people who could calm a hissing snake and swarming bees, through speech alone, not by force, but by respectful and composed words. The belief was never about controlling nature, but about restoring harmony. Likewise, words were believed to carry the power to curse those who harmed nature without cause. Forests were not entered carelessly. Trees were not cut without purpose. To destroy nature irresponsibly invites moral consequence, enforced not by written law, but by spoken condemnation. Words thus functioned as ethical boundaries.
Before cultivation or harvesting, Khasi families traditionally sought blessings from God through spoken words. Through speech, they acknowledged what was to be done and what was not to be done. They named their intentions aloud, placing themselves under responsibility and restraint. Words governed action before action occurred.
In this way, “ka ktien ka thylliej” shaped Khasi society itself. Words preserved balance between humans and nature, regulated behaviour, and sustained communal harmony. Speech was not reactive; it was preparatory. To speak was to commit.
In today’s world, where words are spoken instantly and carelessly, this worldview appears increasingly rare. Yet its endurance suggests profound wisdom. What modern society dismisses as superstition may, in fact, be a deeper understanding of consequence, accountability, and interconnectedness.
The Khasi belief in words does not contradict reason; it expands it. It reminds us that language does not merely describe the world, it participates in it. Words shape lives, societies, and destinies.
This is the enduring truth of ka ktien ka thylliej: words are not only spoken. They carry responsibility. They bind and release. And at times, they give life.
In essence, Khasi oral beliefs are deeply intertwined with morality, ecology, spirituality, and social governance. Words are both a tool and a force: they shape reality, regulate behaviour, and connect humans with the spiritual and natural world. Oral knowledge is preserved not in writing, but in ritual, storytelling, song, and careful instruction by elders, making it both living and adaptable across generations.
