Editor,
Anyone who takes a bird’s-eye view of the areas around Jorabat cannot help but feel a deep sense of hopelessness. The lush green hills that once stood like proud forts of Meghalaya’s natural charm are now gasping for breath. Not just that, they are scarred, shrinking, and also weeping!
It seems that all these years, there has been no administrative authority willing to take a firm stand to protect our forests, safeguard our flora and fauna, and preserve our precious water bodies. The slow disappearance of these hills due to rampant earth-cutting, quarrying, and the construction of buildings in the name of development has begun to spell disaster.
This Sunday, on the 5th of October, a brief downpour lasting less than thirty minutes was enough to expose the fragility of our battered ecology. Like thousands of other commuters, my friends and I, while returning from Guwahati, were stranded for over two hours due to a partial flash flood. It was a short spell of rain, yet the consequences were severe. I shudder to think what would have happened if it had rained continuously for five hours that day. On May 30–31, 2025, these areas received about 110 mm of rainfall within 24 hours, the highest May rainfall ever recorded, turning NH-27 near Jorabat into a flowing river and causing seven-hour traffic jams. Have we not heard of countless people missing their flights and trains to Delhi, Mumbai, and Bengaluru because of these recurring flash floods? Is this highway not our only lifeline to the rest of the country? I dare say, this stretch of GS Road is the central vein of Meghalaya; when it clogs, the entire body gasps.
What struck me most was the nature of the floodwater. It was “thick with mud”. That is a clear sign that the soil is eroding with a vengeance. This is not just runoff; it is the land itself being washed away. If this continues unchecked for another five years, half of the hills we see today might be flattened. Sadly, our indifference and our silence are now deafeningly obvious. I wonder when we will finally wake up to this reality.
An aged school teacher from Jaintia Hills rues: “when will each of us truly realize that Meghalaya’s green hills were not at all meant only for visual delight which we can just do away with? They are ecological fortresses.” Yes, the teacher is absolutely right that these hills unmistakably act as “natural sponges”, absorbing rainwater, slowing its flow, and helping to rejuvenate underground aquifers. Hills with greeneries effectively prevent landslides, filter the air, and regulate the climate. Can any of our advanced technologies do that for us?
What is very frustrating is the fact, as reported, that between 2001 and 2024, Meghalaya lost close to 243,000 hectares of tree cover — an whooping 14% erosion of its forested landscape since 2000. Why has it still not dawned on us that the vitality of our urban spaces is sustained by the greenery that surrounds them? Without the hills, rivers, and green vegetation, the energy of our towns will be drained away.
Now we are left wondering on how to restore what we have lost? How do we bring back the hills we have cut down? I believe we are now merely waiting to see the ecology throw its “ominous tantrum”. We are only waiting to watch the houses and high-rises of Jorabat and Khanapara tumble down? If we do not act now, I am pretty sure, Mother Nature herself might stand up with a hacksaw, ready to cut our ambitions to size.
Yours etc.,
Salil Gewali,
Shillong
Language embodies identity and culture
Editor,
Dr. Daiarisa Rumnong’s article, “Speak Your Roots: A Digital Hearth for Khasi Language Preservation” (The Shillong Times, October 8, 2025), is very inspiring and important. It is not only for the Khasi people but for all communities who wish to keep their mother tongue alive. Her message is not just about language — it is about our cultural identity and who we are.
Today, globalisation and digital communication have brought the world closer. But at the same time, many native languages and traditions are slowly disappearing. This problem is not only in Meghalaya; it is everywhere — in India and across the world. From the tribal languages of North-East India to the old languages of Native Americans and Aboriginal Australians, everyone faces the same question — how can we stay connected to our roots in a world ruled by English?
Dr. Rumnong’s idea of a “Digital Hearth” is both beautiful and useful. She shows that we can use social media to share our proverbs, folk tales, and traditions. Her project, Speak Your Roots, teaches us that technology can help us save our culture instead of destroying it. This is a smart and positive way to solve a global problem — by using modern tools to build a link between old and young generations.
She is very right in saying that language is our identity. When a community forgets its language, it loses its history, pride, and way of thinking. But when young people start learning and speaking their mother tongue again — whether it is Khasi, Bodo, Mizo, Garo, or any other — they find back their roots and self-respect. This pride in one’s own culture helps build unity and strengthens India’s diversity.
Though native language teaching facilities exist in schools, especially in the lower primary stage, many students later choose Alternative English instead of their mother tongue when they reach higher classes. This is a worrying trend. It is high time we help children understand why their mother tongue matters — not only for communication, but for keeping their culture alive. Those who study Alternative English can still be encouraged to learn and use their native language at home, in daily conversation with elders.
Schools too can play a creative role. Organising debates, storytelling, and literary competitions in local languages — alongside English — can make learning both joyful and meaningful. Such small efforts can go a long way in reviving pride and interest in one’s mother tongue.
Dr Rumnong also warns that translation must be done carefully, so that the real meaning and beauty of native expressions are not lost. Her ideas show a perfect balance — she respects tradition but also accepts modern methods. Speak Your Roots is a wonderful example for every community that wants to protect its language.
In today’s world, where people scroll more than they speak, Dr Rumnong’s message reminds us to stop and listen to the voices of our ancestors. Her initiative truly deserves admiration and support from everyone who values culture, memory, and human connection.
Yours etc.
Jairaj
Tura, Brahmanpara
