By Dapbianglin Sohkhlet
Earlier today, I was watching the news. The story was familiar, the narrative routine, but what followed was anything but. The comments section exploded with hostility, sarcasm, and vitriol. It wasn’t simply a disagreement. It was cruelty dressed as opinion. It made me stop and ask myself: What kind of thoughts are we nurturing in this generation? When did expressing ourselves become an excuse to attack others?
Imagine a guest arriving at your home. Instead of being warmly welcomed into a beautifully arranged drawing room, furnished with comfortable sofas and cushions, they are told, “No, not there, that room is reserved for special occasions.” How would such a guest feel? Unwelcome, unvalued, perhaps even unwanted. This analogy reflects the experience of many tourists today. When excessive rules and restrictions are imposed on visitors to the point where they fear even setting foot in a place, how can we expect them to feel genuinely welcomed? Tourism sustains our communities, but if tourists are made to feel like intruders, constrained by fear of breaking arbitrary laws or encountering hostility, the very lifeblood of our economy and culture is put at risk.
Yes, money is important. Safety is important. It is not simply a matter of wanting these things and having them handed to us. Rather, it is the approach, the manner in which we engage, communicate, and enforce that truly matters. We must work thoughtfully on how we balance these needs with respect and kindness, ensuring that the pursuit of safety and economic well-being does not come at the expense of humanity and warmth.
We live in such fears, so much so that we tend to overdo, overthink, and denigrate others, which leads to destruction. Remember, in our Khasi words, “Ka ktien ka kham nep ban ïa ka wait,” our tongue is stronger than a sword. That is what we believe. But all I see in today’s generation is that people are waging a war of slander, which leads to the destruction of others without a second thought.
Let me share a story. A group of four girls, all the same age, had miscommunication problems, differences in opinions, and different thought processes. All of them were right in their own stance. But you know what made one of them wrong while sharing opinions? It was the anger before understanding that destroyed everything. She was right, but when anger speaks louder than your thoughts, it tends to lose the validity and the truth. It is the action of how you present, rather than what you mean. The fear of being wrong, of being unheard, of being irrelevant, grips us tightly. And from that fear, we let emotion race ahead of understanding. We speak before we reflect. And in doing so, we burn bridges that were never meant to be set aflame.This lesson extends far beyond personal friendships. It applies to how we relate to strangers, to tourists, to those outside our comfort zones. Tourism feeds many of our communities. It brings life to our economies and sustains families. But if our attitudes toward tourists are shaped by resentment or entitlement, if we speak carelessly, act indifferently, or treat others with coldness, then we do more than lose business. We lose our humanity.
Hospitality is not a performance. It is a value. We don’t have to agree with or conform to the visitor’s expectations, but we do have a responsibility to show kindness, patience, and integrity. A visitor may forget what they saw or spent, but they will never forget how they were made to feel. And the impact of one moment, one word, one action can echo far beyond what we see.
Let us not mistake harshness for strength, or rudeness for honesty. Let us not allow fear or pride to lead us into wars of over-speaking, where the loudest voice wins and the wisest voice is lost.
What we need, above all, is to understand one another to recognise both perspectives and truths. It is not about one side being entirely right or the other entirely wrong; it is about adopting an approach that seeks dialogue rather than imposition, collaboration rather than command. We must move towards a more holistic way of thinking, one that strives to achieve together, not to push or pull each other apart.
This is not the time for blame games. Instead, we must first reflect inwardly, examine ourselves, fix what lies within, and only then look outward to others. Let us show strength not through dominance or defiance, but through the very kindness and calm strength that we Khasi people carry from our homes and our upbringing. Let us not forget our roots; our strength has always been found in humility, in kindness, and in love.
I am not here to defend anyone, nor to argue for one side or another. I am simply speaking from a place of humanity and the belief that being human and being kind must never go out of fashion.
Perhaps the time has come to unlearn certain habits: the instinct to respond before listening, the need to be louder rather than clearer, the urge to dominate a conversation instead of understanding its silence. Kindness is not weakness. Humility is not submission. Being courteous does not mean we are giving up our rights; it means we are giving others their dignity.
What legacy are we leaving behind if our children learn that anger is a form of expression, and arrogance a substitute for truth? We must not let noise replace wisdom. The next generation will inherit not only our land and our language, but also our behaviour. Let us hand down gentleness, not rage. Let us pass on the courage to care, not the compulsion to conquer.
We must remember: being right is not enough if your delivery destroys your message.
In the end, it is courtesy, not force, that shapes lasting impressions. It is empathy, not anger, that builds trust. And it is silence, sometimes, that speaks the loudest truth.
My writing is not to offend anyone, but to share my observations.
