MESMERISING SPIRITS

Yakari and Childhood...

2011-06-26T17:53:00.000-07:00

I have recently acquired a new picture for my facebook profile. I was thinking of a nice cartoon character which is not too common, (well, we all strive for that small exclusivity). The list goes like this: Tintin (too common with the movie coming out in December), Asterix (nice one, while i like it, it is not subtle enough), Archie or Jughead (too close to the truth), Calvin (too visible and overused, i think everyone coming out of boarding school with half a sense try to get all their philosophy and worldview from his musings), South Park (no way) and no end to the tunnel. Out of the blue came Yakari with his bushy mop-top and that clinches the deal for me.

Yakari is an Sioux Native American boy who lived in the great plains of America. It is a Franco-Belgian comic book series, aimed at a younger audience, written by Job and illustrated by Derib. The time setting is before the great colonisation of America. Horse existed in the stories, so we can imagine it is somewhere after the Spanish come to America as it was them who introduced horses to America.

The first and only yakari book I've had read till today was and is Yakari and the White buffalo. In the story, spring has come and the Sioux were hungry as their winter stock was finished. They were waiting for the annual hunt of the buffalo in the wide prairie. As the buffalo herd took a long time to come, Yakari took off on his trusted steed and went searching for the buffalo. He found them under the command of the white buffalo ( a sacred animal under various native American lores). To cut a long story short, he manged to convince the white buffalo to lead his herd for slaughter by the Sioux so that they can survive and the balance of nature will be restored. For a kid in primary (as i was that time0. It was an engaging read. But, while other comics can be found in good number in Mizoram, i was not able to find any other adventure by Yakari. Its only now that i'm able to get them. Let me read them and see whether they still hold their magivcal power over me.

For a young Mizo boy who grew up on a steady diet of cowboys and mythical ranches in far off Texas and Arizona, the magical realms of Yakari and the landscape that it provides holds greater impact than Rama and Sita or the various Indian comics like Mahabali Shaka available during that time. It was a real window into a different world. So, thats the story of my avatar....

Letter to John Brain

2010-04-07T12:53:00.000-07:00

Letter to John Brain

John Brain, Esq.,

Top Floor, Cranium,

Human Body.

Sir,

Greetings to you on behalf of the rest of the body! We wish you good health and more brainy cells in your future to come.

As you know, we all inhabit the same locality. So, for the betterment of all of us and especially from the view of your eminence and importance in this locality, we have submitted this petition to you. In view of our good neighbourhood and friendship as well as the common stake we have in this area, we sincerely hoped that you will look into our petition with due care and take necessary actions to rectify the problems as well as to implement various steps.

First of all, since all the orders for the whole body come from you, there is always a problem. What is clear here is not so visible from your side. So, most of yours orders, that we have to execute, do not reach up to the mark. For example, only the other day you forced our member, Mr. Leg to play football to represent our area. It’s not enough that you watch Premier Leagues and World Cup; Mr. Leg has to work out not only by himself but also needs me, Mr. Heart and Mr. Knee to help him out, not to mention other neighbours. As a direct result emanating from your order, Mr. Leg complains of pain which again is a problem to the whole colony as we have to depend on him for our transport. Also, the other day, you felt that it would be good for the whole colony to go swimming knowing very well that Mr. Arm was ill. The whole colony nearly drowned because without Mr. Arm we are all at sea. Other incidents also abound but let the two examples suffice. It remains to be seen whether you will have some funny notions in the future. It is our earnest request to you to refrain from such adventures in the future unless the whole colony is with you.

The issue of multiple orders also needs to be looked into. As you know very well, since all orders come from you, we have to follow it with detriments to our safety many times. At the same time, you have this tendency to blame others for your laziness. While all physical labors are our avenues, you have no problem dumping any unfeasible plans down to our side knowing very well that you are not going to suffer. But, on those jobs which you alone have to take part like going to the bank and calculating our annual income and expenditure, you always find a way to slip out of it. At the same time you always tramp on us by boasting, “I’d have done that if Mr. S and So or the other were not so incompetent”. Learn to be on you own. In this world, we all live together. So, you better learn to live and let live.

Many more issues also abound, but let these suffice for the moment. Depending upon your performances, we may have new issues next year. Till DMZP diamond Jubilee souvenir is published, it is our earnest request that you introspect and live accordingly. No man is an island. Love thy fellow beings.

Yours truly,

James Heart,

Representative, Middle Body,

Homo Sapiens.

( P.S. I wrote this piece for the Delhi Mizo Zirlai Pawl Golden Jubilee Souvenir. Actually, its an updated article I published in DMZP annual magazine two or three years ago. I just upload it here to break the monotony of not posting for a long time.

CHAWHCHAWRAWI I

2009-03-28T15:50:00.000-07:00

Ruantlang bul kawi atanga Mualkuai ram kan thlir lai.

Thiandun kalkawng inkawhhmuh tur niawm ang taka lak a ni. Ka tum ber chu ral leh lam eng thlir zelin hringnun hman hi a pawimawh a. Tin, chawl lova kal zel tur kan nihzia leh chu lam panna chu eng a nihzia tarlan ka tum a ni. (Philosophical lovang chu maw :-))

Di In, Zote Khua.

Tiang thlalak hi a tam tawh viau a, ka la ve chak mai mai a. Thingkhawn khian ka lung a ti leng deuh a.

Zote Tlang (?) A hming tak ka hre fuh lo.

Chawlhni tlai vela Mizoram nula leh tlangval lengvel an nih khi. Mizoramah chuan tlang thawveng deuhah leng kha kan ching reng a.

Champhai Leilet, Zote khua atanga lak.

Phai thla lak ka duh ve hrim hrim a. Romei (chhum ni lovin) a zam nasa deuh a. A paw chiai a, tin, thal khawro lai tak ania, a mawi lutuk hranlo.

Naupang tuicheng insasenglai. CHamphai Leilet.

Sandes Skul kallai, chawhnu inkhawm tlanbova kan tih ve fo thin ania. Kum sawm chuang lai a liam pawhin chawlhni serh han bawhchhiat chu Mizo te'n kan la ching tho niin a lang. Chawlhni chawhnu inkhawm thulh meuha tuichen kha a lo nuam em alawm. Vai ramah chawlhni serh anih loh tehreng nen o.

P.S. Pu Epis te hovin mawi lutuka an lak laiin a rem rem lak kan han tarlang ve a. A nuam ve viau tho e.

Cowboys! Riders of the Wild....

2009-03-23T14:07:00.000-07:00

Well...As you can see from the picture above, i'm quite interested in cowboys and the so-called wild wild west. Mizo cowboy cyclostyled books contributing an important part. No doubt.

If we are to imagine ourselves in various walks of life. I think, for myself, cowboys played an important role. Browsing thru' Louis L'Amour, Oliver Strange, Frederick H. Christian, Luke Short, Max Brand and so on, the life of the cowwboy is the loner's life. hardly anyone to look up to, except punching mates and fellow grub line riders. This, i think have some analogy with the present world. The world has increasingly become an individualistic worlds with everyman for himself. So, the cowboy with his horse and gun is for himself. What about us..with our pens (for some computers) are we everyman for himself? Riders of the wild wide world...

Death Be Not Proud (beta version 1.0)

2008-11-27T13:16:00.000-08:00

DEATH be not proud, though some have called thee
Mighty and dreadfull, for, thou art not so,
For, those, whom thou think'st, thou dost overthrow,
Die not, poore death, nor yet canst thou kill me.
From rest and sleepe, which but thy pictures bee,
Much pleasure, then from thee, much more must flow,
And soonest our best men with thee doe goe,
Rest of their bones, and soules deliverie.
Thou art slave to Fate, Chance, kings, and desperate men,
And dost with poyson, warre, and sicknesse dwell,
And poppie, or charmes can make us sleepe as well,
And better then thy stroake; why swell'st thou then;
One short sleepe past, wee wake eternally,
And death shall be no more; death, thou shalt die.

So goes the poem by John Donne.

Life seems very funny sometimes. Looking at the words of God, we are all dust, destined to return to dust. Yet we are created in His image. This contradiction in nature is what makes life interesting and baffles us at the same time. So, what exactly is life and death? What do they mean to us human beings?

This question has been pondered upon by wise and not so wise men. A finite mind can only think of a finite thing. It seems to be beyond human understanding and comprehension.So, why what and how...Its human nature to try to understand what is happening to the world around us and us (especially ladies). Me as i type these lines and you, as you read the. Why??? Well i'm not trying to answer it and i want you to ponder on it. For me, it makes me realize how precious life is, and while we are squandering it sleeping and all.

But, to end this disjunct ramblings, i look at the poem above and hope is there. Death is not death to the world, death to everything. Rather, it is the way to eternal splendour. Death will die someday...

Sunday Morning Coming Down

2008-11-14T08:03:00.000-08:00

“Sunday Morning Coming Down”

Well I woke up Sunday morning,
With no way to hold my head that didn't hurt.
And the beer I had for breakfast wasn't bad,
So I had one more for dessert.
Then I fumbled through my closet for my clothes,
And found my cleanest dirty shirt.
An' I shaved my face and combed my hair,
An' stumbled down the stairs to meet the day.

The quietness woke me for a change. After the hustle and bustle of living in a metropolitan city, Sunday morning is that much needed day of rest and relaxation. However, sunday morning in Delhi also looks a bit like the above verse, don’t you think, my dear reader. Life in fast Delhi takes its toll on us sometimes, well, let me amend that, most of the time. And, the toll on our lifestyle, health and sometime hygiene has led to many a disastrous consequence in the many pasts.

I'd smoked my brain the night before,
On cigarettes and songs I'd been pickin'.
But I lit my first and watched a small kid,
Cussin' at a can that he was kicking.
Then I crossed the empty street,
'n caught the Sunday smell of someone fryin' chicken.
And it took me back to somethin',
That I'd lost somehow, somewhere along the way.

After the heavy (for hardworking students and professionals) and relatively calm (for those who call themselves students only by virtue of being enrolled in some institutions of learning and troglodytes themselves who erupt like Vesuvius only on weekend) week, Friday evening and the continuation is Canaan, the land of bliss and bountiful times to be subsumed in Bacchanalian revelries and Bohemian pleasures. No hedonist worth his salt would forsake the din and pleasure that flowed from the various founts of Bacchus. But, lingering memories are always there. A story once upon a time, far, far away.

On the Sunday morning sidewalk,
Wishing, Lord, that I was stoned.
'Cos there's something in a Sunday,
Makes a body feel alone.
And there's nothin' short of dyin',
Half as lonesome as the sound,
On the sleepin' city sidewalks:
Sunday mornin' comin' down.

The path laid for all of us is a lonely road. ‘Tis not one where good natured camaderie and bonhomie can happen and carry us along when we are lonely. Rather, its everyman for himself. Where is the light that will shine when we are jaded and want recourse from this existential reality?

In the park I saw a daddy,
With a laughin' little girl who he was swingin'.
And I stopped beside a Sunday school,
And listened to the song they were singin'.
Then I headed back for home,
And somewhere far away a lonely bell was ringin'.
And it echoed through the canyons,
Like the disappearing dreams of yesterday.

A girl, its always a girl who are the one who moved the world from Eve who change our whole existence (no apologies to feminists here, facts stands on its feet, not head) to Troy’s Helen of the thousand ship fame and Cleopatra over whom time shift restlessly in the unending sand. Well, let me not go overboard here. But, from the disasters to the success stories, girls contribute a lot, don’t they? What about some introspection? Dreams fade away to oblivion; the shining cities of yore are lost in the midst of time. Thoughts and speculations abound in the human psyche. Ole Janus stood watch over time-the unending Maya and the hopes of Nirvana.
On a Sunday morning like this, we’ve all stood and thought, what am I to do, what is my life going to be? However, life is not exactly “Que Sera Sera, Whatever will be will be, the Future’s not ours to see”. Rather to borrow Longfellow, it is “Let us, then, be up and doing, With a heart for any fate; Still achieving, still pursuing, Learn to labor and to wait”. But, the drive and the sources are all hidden in the past pavilions of time. It is ours to unravel the thread of time and find out what is our meaning of life, hidden in the dusty corridors of some forgotten building on a Sunday morning.

(Note: The title is taken from Kris Kristofferson’s song of the same title made famous by Johnny Cash. The plot has no allusion with the actual thought of the songwriter and any connections made between the two are at the reader’s discretion.)

NB: This is an unedited (or lets say beta) version of an article i submitted for the Delhi Mizo Zirlai Pawl Annual Magazine. While its for others, this time, i basically wrote it for myself.

SUANGTUAHNA RAUTHLA

2008-10-06T06:44:00.000-07:00

Rilru leh tihtak zetna hian thil a lo tithei khawp mai dawn a lo ni. A bik takin kan ngaihtuahna leh suangtuah thu zeldin hian mihringte min tham nasa thei hle.

Thu leh hla miril kan tihte hi hian an ngaihtuah thu zeldin chuan lasi ram, khawhar leh lungleng takah chuan a hruai thei thin a. Thihna hlim kawr ruam atanga van pialral leh lei paradis nen lam a tem tir thin.

Suangtuahna hi aw!!! Ziaktu thian tha leh hmelma a lo ni fo reng a ni. Coleridge chuan ganja nena tangkawpin Kublai Khan-a khaw ropui Xanadu, a lo suangtuah chhuak a. CHutih lai thung erawh chuan Dante mihring rilru sawhkhawk, suangtuahna rum a lo ti chhuak thung si. Kierkegard te'n mihring khawvel awmchhan an suangtuah vak vak laiin Hans Anderson chuan naupang te thawnthu a lo ngaihtuah chhuak thung.

Zikpuii Pa chuan a Madrid zin thu a ziahin Spain ram ngaw cham del a hmuha lasi ram pawh thleng thei hial tura an zel din thei te chuan kan rilru chakna hrang hrang a tarlang chiang hle awm e.Tawk phawt se...ka zawm leh dawn nia.

Illustrations!

2008-10-04T07:02:00.000-07:00

English is a finicky language (not very original). For unsuspecting users like me, it just pounces on you when most unaware and take you by the head. In the end, it mini-doomsday for you.

The word ILLUSTRATIONS brings to my mind what happen to me when i was a young lad. Being very fond of comics, i always catch hold of books with the word illustrations in them. Most of the time I'm not disappointed, it always have wonderful art by cartoonist and artist which are like manna for a comics starved soul. Then, d-day arrived.

My uncle published a new book-English Mizo Dictionary with illustrations. My joy knew no bounds-Aha..here is s new book to satisfy my picture addiction. But then, even Rome fell. The illustrations were not pictures, rather, they were illustrations on how to use the words in sentences. Huh!!! SO much for the word.

That day led me not to judge a book by the cover (again, not very original) and also at the same time showed me the vagaries of words and IILUSTRATE what they are, just words.