Northeast came alive on the 13th and 14th of October in the nation’s capital Delhi. In a literary meet titled “Voices from the North East”, some new writers from the region came together to highlight the literature that comes from the region’s oral traditions and myths. The event was organized by Jaipur-based literary consultancy Siyahi at Delhi’s India Habitat Centre.

The two-day event comprised of readings by some known writers of the north-eastern region and also a performance by the well-known band East India Company. Mita Kapur, who heads Siyahi said that their organization has always stressed on highlighting writers from such remote areas of the country and said that the Northeast has much more to offer than what seems. She saw this event as an opportunity to bring out these voices in front of mainstream India’s arena.

The first day i.e. October 13, comprised of a reading session by well-known Khasi writer  Kynpham Sing Nonkynrih and the performance by East India Company. Nongkynrih began by reading passages from his poem “Identification Marks” which talked of the various tactics that Khasis adopted while identifying their own breed. His talk comprised of mostly the elements which influence Khasi writings and culture on a whole. He said that the Khasi poetry is called Kathawar because of the oral tradition that has been followed for its preservation. He also delved into the importance that kwai (areca nut) has in their society. Worth recalling is his account as to how the British used to called the Khasis as “red-mouthed monsters” because of their red-stained mouths from eating kwai. Nonkynrih also talked about the matrilineal society of the Khasis which got the audience especially interested because it mostly comprised of mainland Indians.

After the reading session by Nongkynrih, came the performance of the East India Company headed by Angaraag Mahanta (Papon). The band left the audience spellbound with their music which had a blend of various genres from Assamese folk to Rajasthani folk and classical Sufi music. Worth mentioning in this regard was Angaraag’s soulful rendition of the Nusrat Fateh Ali Khan number Tere Bin. Angaraag’s father, the great Khagen Mahanta, was also present during the show which performed to a packed auditorium. But the best part of the band’s performance was their electronic rendition of Assam’s Bihu. Many from the audience came to the front and broke into Bihu dances that made the entire auditorium come alive. Truly, it was the perfect ending to a beautiful evening!

The next day i.e. October 14 was marked by a panel discussion titled, ‘Turning Point: New Writings from the North East’. Taking part in this conversion were writers such as Mamang Dai, Bijoya Sawian and Temsula Ao. The discussion was moderated by well-known author Namita Gokhale. The talk was mainly centred on the oral traditions and local myths that are influencing the new writings from the region. Most new writers are going back to their traditional roots that are giving a different picture to the readers of the mainland India who have always held stereotyped assumptions about the Northeast.

The first reading was done by Mamang Dai, who is a former IAS officer and is presently a journalist with Hindustan Times. She began by reading poems from her book “Legends of Pensam” and went on to talk about the new focus that the writers from the region are turning to which is finding a flavour with the mainstream readers. Dai, who hails from Arunachal Pradesh, said that one of the biggest inspiration for her book came from the villagers who are abound with myriad folk tales and myths. She said that myths in Northeast are either held as very sacred or else discarded as total nonsense. But they do help in maintaining the distinct identity and flavour of the community concerned.

The next talk was given by Bijoya Sawian, who hails from Shillong and is a writer of repute. She began with reading a few passages from her upcoming book “Men in the Shadows” which deals with the wave of intolerance against the non-Khasis in Shillong. She also went on to talk about the matrilineal Khasi society in length. She said that though militancy in Meghalaya is minimal, the cause of problems is more economical than political. It is due to this that an atmosphere of intolerance has emerged against the non-Khasis in Shillong. She also threw light on her religion i.e. the Nyamthrai religion which dwells on the concept of monotheism. She said that it is a religion with very minimal religious rites and rituals and focuses on living a simple and clean life. One more thing that came to front was Shillong’s never-ending obsession with country legend Bob Dylan when Sawian mentioned that one of her inspirations to write the book was a song by Dylan.

And lastly came Prof Temsula Ao, who hails from Nagaland and is currently the Dean of the School of Humanities and Education at the North Eastern Hill University at Shillong. Prof Ao went on to talk about the new way in which old myths and legends are reinterpreted by the new writers to bring out a new flavour in them. This she demonstrated by reading out two poems from her book “Songs of the Other Life”. Her most soulful reading was the poem which dealt with the famous Momola legend of Nagaland. Prof Ao also spoke on the importance of the English language in writing. She said that writing in English has its advantages of reaching out to a larger audience who understand the language. For her, English has helped in bonding together the various people of the Northeast. She also said that the reason for writing in this language was because of the Christian religion that the Nagas adopted.

This event definitely was an experience to remember for most people who attended it. For Namita Gokhale, who moderated the second day's panel talk, it was a usual opportunity to interact with writers from various regions and getting to know intimately the socio-cultural fabric of the Northeast. For Bijoya Sawian, it was a great opportunity for writers of the region because it was a platform to reach to the larger Indian audience. She also said that Shillong had become the new launching ground for upcoming writers from the North East because of the presence of the NE Hill University and the various literary meets and discussions that keep happening there. Aruni Kashyap, an upcoming author from Assam and a member of Siyahi, said that such events are a great opportunity to highlight the vast talent that the Northeast has to offer and break the usual stereotyping of the region.

“Voices from the North East” was surely an event to remember and it is hoped that such meets will continue to happen. The angle of viewing the North East is changing in mainland India and it is hoped that the gap between the region and the mainland will continue to narrow down from such meets.

Silky, shiny, black or brown,

Some heads just stop growing a crown,

In winter shiver, in summer sweat,

For not a hair on the bald pate

Yet never in spirits down.

Ah Heads! They are so varied in the nature of the growth upon them. And are they as much varied in the nature of barrenness too upon them! And equally varied are men’s disguises to cover up that patch of a crow’s delight. I realized the latter at a wedding as I watched a buoyant group of retired gentlemen, friends who have met after years, discussing losses in their lives, among which figured sets of teeth and crowns of hair.

There was uncle Shullai who unstringed and took off his very Mexican hat to reveal to his friends a smooth and shiny bald pate. Now this immediately released a thunder of guffaw from his friends and spread through the entire reception hall. And just then when a stranger walked past, uncle Shullai promptly put his hat back on and said loudly to his friends but mainly intending the stranger to hear, ‘So its just that I have a fascination for hats and caps from all over the world, you see, not that I need to hide anything under them…’ Another guffaw followed.

Now uncle Sen was more discreet. He psst-pssted his friends closer and asked them to watch well as he tugged at and ruffled his thick, burgundy mane which was till now the envy of the group. And suddenly one in the group burst out, ‘Hey! That whole scalp is unscrewing!’ ‘Shush!’ uncle Sen hissed, ‘That is the wig, you idiot!’ Amazed eyes which popped out of their sockets banged onto the glasses of the spectacles and reflected into their respective sockets. Many a query followed, as to where he got that oh-so-real tuft of synthetics, did it cost him his entire pension, doesn’t the wind blow it off, does he put it on even when he sleeps lest a quake of the earth makes him run out of the house in the middle of the night…And dear Sen beamed. But all he said was, ‘Guys, nothing’s like the real thing.’

Uncle Bordoloi however just ran a hand gently over the sparse vegetation on his top. ‘You’re lucky, ole boy, you still don’t have to spread your facial quota of moisturizer upto way up there,’ they told of him. ‘But I had to a year back,’ he smiled, making his friends’ eyebrows race up to touch a nonexistent hairline in wonder. ‘Its all about MESO Grow New Hair, you know, Dr. Paul’s.’

But then there was uncle Imdad who sensibly maintained a flourishing beard just to divert people’s attention away from his bald head towards his weed-chin.

There was however Uncle Basumatary who fussed the least with his bald pate. Because the missus it seems once told him, it’s what’s just underneath that pate that matters and not what’s over it. ‘Age gracefully, honey,’ was what she said, ‘A teenager’s mop of hair on a grandfatherly head looks suspicious. Just be bold enough to be bald and yet beautiful,’ so she said.

‘Wise! Wise!’ the friends solemnly agreed. And also agreed to then on proudly remain bald yet beautiful!

A bachelor’s life has its definite advantages. You are not accountable to any one else. You can pack your bag and leave for the destination you like at moment’s notice. Above all, you are free and can take risk.

Let the man depicted in the story be X and he always tried to justify his existence dwelling on the positive aspects of a bachelor’s life. He was not an unattractive member of our species. There was something in his personality that always attracted me towards him. He was a good host and an entertainer. He was compassionate –– perhaps in extremity towards his fellowmen. He loved good life, but would be austere at times.

They loved him for his humour, his knowledge, his erudition, his compassion as well as for his arrogance, pride, caprices, and idiosyncrasies. They endeared him for his propagation of bachelor life, its very simplicity. They hated him for being a hedonist and loved him for his apparent lack of desire that beset ordinary men. At times, we looked up to him as a virtual hermit, a Buddha, a Messiah.

X seemed to have a personality divided in half. The duality in his character was often seen by me as duplicity inherent practically in all men. But he was really free from spite or guile. We loved and hated him at the same times. He left us always with a contradictory feeling of understanding and incomprehension. People found it difficult to understand the apparent duality in his character.

He would always extol the virtues of unmarried life. In reality, his life was not without trials and tribulation, its share of loneliness and despair. We had our family to return to, fall back upon. But he had no one, except his unpainted room, overused bed, splinters fallen from ceiling and wall from a ninety year old house built by his father, a member of landowning class and an educated man of his time.

Life ceases to be meaningful when you have no one to turn to –– to love and be loved. And the Messiah was no exception. He had no one to love to in particular. Women were drawn by his unfailing charm, cultivated manners and courtesy. One of them even went far to write a poem about him, praising his virtues and rendering her seeming despair to attain him. A good many had placed their dreams under his feet but he never cared to tread softly upon it. When they came close, he would instinctively be on his guard and create a distance until they would be driven away.

He was a useful member of the society and had perhaps an exaggerated sense of self esteem and pseudo moral rectitude in connection with women. He appeared to aspire for enlightened, free liberal women but he would speak of all women as of one and same category. 

Her never saw them as individuals. His opinion about them was drawn from the past, an era of the feudal lords to whom women a mere possession, a commodity. In his opinion, they were creations to serve men folk, the family and the society.

X never married. He became a propagator of polygamy. He always found the practice of monogamy at modern times as not only a difficulty but impossibility and its modern women an ambivalence and a burdensome portion in marriage. Secretly, he would pine for their intimacy, love and sex. But he had but little belief in the utility of marriage as such.

He was the youngest of the eight children. His father, married twice. He maintained a lavish life style. So when he died, they were left nothing to fend themselves with. All the lands had gone. Five young daughters were to be married off.

He was the youngest and close to his mother. He was indulgent and some what spoiled. His five sisters were always there to serve him and to listen to his childish tantrums. So he grew up with a feeling that he belonged to the ancient heritage.

The existing reality made him annoyed and sad. So he found repose in a fantasy world far from grim reality. He would fancy of far off places, bevy of beauties and a glamorous life. In practical life, he first made forays into business and then took to teaching where he found his ultimate vocation.

He was nice, sensitive, and optimistic and was in his best part when he was in a state of dream. But he became cynical when the part of reality was concerned. He was greatly perturbed when he saw the milling crowd and would remark on the worthlessness of their existence. He would see marriage and bearing children are the roots of all evils in the world. He was afraid of a women getting aged, shapeless, ugly and dull with each passing year of married life. He would make doleful, gloomy and pitiful observation about the life of a married man in his daily grind and his joyless existence and annoying family preoccupations.

But he was always moved by beauties, their innate charm. Naturally shy by nature, he felt ashamed of his own natural emotion. Pleasures of life can never be complete without women, he knew. But he had always feeling of being trapped so far monogamy was concerned. “Once married, options were few and limited”, he said, “You can divorce or remarriage but these are not easy either with lawsuits, children, finance and replacement of one set of problems for another”, he always added.

He was rather a propagator of an alternative lifestyle in matters of sex and marriage. But he knew that our close society has no toleration for such outrages. “It will evolve and change but will take years, when we will all be gone,” he remarked. That saddened him. “The West has serial monogamy and discreet affairs whereas we have none. Marriage would be a dreary and lonesome journey”, he observed.

Life would have been uneventful for such a person but for an encounter of a strange nature. The messiah always detested marriage and social functions. But that was an occasion he just could not avoid.

The women, he had met and befriended in the chat room of the Internet, was to be present in that particular marriage.

When he stepped into the marriage hall, it was filled with a motley crowd, He noticed one or two familiar faces. There were family photo sessions with the bride and groom- mementos of the grand jubilation; a desperate effort to make a mark on the evanescent time. He found a chair and sat down to watch diverse human activities. Two young girls came with plates of eatables and he took a crumb or two. He felt elated and thanked himself for the fact that he never did become a part of an institution called marriage.

He remembered N. the women once he had met in life. She was the only women he wanted to make love to; the only women he wanted to possess. She was different and knew how to conquer a man's heart. They were getting close, perhaps far too close. He almost decided to marry her but then he regressed. He recoiled either for the fear of being tied down or for the marital obligation that would rob him of independence.

‘Love happens but for once happens in fiction only’, a great novelist had said. But what happens in fiction happened in the life of X. He loved for once but could never really fall in love again. He made the first major compromise in life. He never listened to the music ringing in the back of his mind. Deep in his heart he was sad and was afraid of sailing away of his own.

X decided to remain a bachelor. He found approval for his decision in changing social mores of modern times. He became a messiah, the harbinger of a new world order where there would be no conventional marriages and families. He imagined of an upheaval, a revolution in conventional moral attitude of man towards love, sex and marriage.

People laughed at his back, afraid of their mind corrupted. They felt confused and helpless when they were made to see the truth. He began to justify how a marriage robs intelligent man of intellect, independence, sensual pleasure, satiation of libido and physical comfort in life. “If one remain unmarried, it can even help an overpopulated country”, he would comment. 

X made his way to the bride and the groom and wished them a life of pleasure and happiness. He laughed at his own innocent duplicity. Then looked back and surveyed the young women. He instantly recognized the women he looked for.

She was a nubile beauty in her twenties, young and lanky, big breasted, slim and fair complexioned in blue jeans and green sporting highlighting her fine features. She had an elongated face with a fine crop of black hair fallen over her shoulder in cascade. He had the opportunity of meeting good many women but never such a beauty. There was an instant fix, a kind of chemical bonding.

A sweep of emotion, tender and graceful flooded him and caught him unaware. He stood transfixed. He lost the power of speech, sight and fell into a reverie –– a buried emotion he treasured in the inner recesses of consciousness –– a secret he kept carefully hidden from the watchful eye. He fell in love once again.

It brought him the memory of certain transient moment of ethereal beauty, fulfilment and love, ever remained entombed and buried in his mind. She was singer, a prima donna that he had met at a musical concert. Then there followed their first meeting, a cup of coffee, a dinner physical togetherness. Details were forgotten. But he remembered the busy afternoon and evenings of their mutual love, long drive in the highway, conversation, undefined commitment, and smiles. The world seemed perfect.

Now seeing another woman in her primeval grace and expression, he let his guard fall, forgot everyone around him and went near the woman. The woman in her caught him in her attention. She was used to curious male gaze and got interested in his undivided attention. She never saw anything wrong in it. He was some what past his prime but was still attractive. There was a flowing naturalness when they sat close and started to talk. There were immediate topics of broad generalization and of mutual interest.

And then suddenly he felt an ever growing desire to know her well –– a mistake he never did with women for being personally involved. He felt close to the woman. The conversation with her made him feel small and insignificant. He perceived a deep hollowness in his feeling. He felt a profound remorse that his whole life had gone in justifying himself for an existence he did not really believed in. He succeeded in living some other’s life, not his own.

All these years, he did not bother about marriage. In a variety of ways, he felt that marriage was more a trouble than it was worth. He chose to live along. He was happy. The sole reason of his happiness was that he had given up the expectation that a woman is needed to make a man happy. But without him being aware, the very act bade goodbye to romance in his life and closed the door to letting a romantic partner take him from happy to feeling happier, from good to feeling great.

And then he asked her for the first date.

Guneet Saini (name changed) is fair, petite and has been fighting a divorce battle for the last two years. She was married to her husband for six years during, a period in which she suffered emotional abuse from her in-laws and husband on a daily basis. After a difficult pregnancy her husband asked her to move out of the house with their two-month-old daughter. A rich businessman, who could afford a BMW car and all inclusive vacations to Europe every other year, he is not willing to pay Guneet a fair share of child support and other entitlements. In cases of divorce, the spouse who looks after the child is entitled to support that is calculated on the basis of the other spouse’s income.

Guneet’s husband is paying her $350 per month, which does not even cover the childcare fees of $970 she pays for her daughter each month. “I have moved in with my parents and put them under financial strain,” she says with tears in her eyes.

What goes against Guneet is the fact that in six years of marriage she did not have a joint bank account with her husband, did not make any investment in mutual funds for her retirement and the house that her husband purchased –– with the dowry cash she got –– legally belongs to him and her in-laws.

Throughout her marriage, Guneet’s parents kept sending her money, which she deposited in her savings account. “Because of those savings I am not even entitled to legal aid,” she informs. Legal Aid, an independent but publicly-funded and publicly-accountable non-profit corporation, helps people with low-income access legal help. “Now I am finding it hard to pay the legal fees to fight for the right to my daughter,” she says.

Guneet’s predicament is similar to that of many women who are contemplating divorce or going through it in Canada’s South Asian community. It also typifies the financial position of the South Asian women, which slides considerably after a divorce, even while that of men goes up.

Lawyer Kavita Bhagat, based in Brampton, Ontario, says that many South Asian women find that because they did not have any financial control in their marriage, their husbands end up manoeuvring all the finances to their advantage. 

What makes the situation difficult for many South Asian women is the fact that they are not aware of their legal and financial rights. In her practice, Kavita regularly come across cases in which women have fled from their abusive partner without even charging him for abuse. As a result, divorce settlements are often lengthy, and not in their favour. To change this, Kavita inevitably goes beyond providing legal help to the women by getting them in touch with women shelters, counsellors, government housing and even fighting their case pro-bono.

Aside from the changed family dynamics, other factors often complicate matters. Spouses can get caught in the immigration process, complicating matters for them. Many times the abusive husband withholds his wife’s immigration papers and controls her movements.

According to immigration laws, husbands who sponsor their wives’ immigration are in-charge of them for three years during which time they have to financially support them. During this time, many abusive husbands make sure that the wife has no control over the finances. For such women, divorce is even more challenging, as they are caught in the vortex of immigration problems, as well as dealing with a failed marriage.

However, Zarina emphasises that not all aspects of divorce go against women. After the divorce women often end up being stronger persons, who are aware of their varied abilities. Says Zarina, “You can mourn the death of your husband. Similarly you can mourn change in your life because of divorce.”

Gariasi Dutta answers all your queries on mind, matter and life.

Q. Dear Madam, I feel tired all the time. Even if I rest for sometime I feel tired. My tiredness prevents me from doing anything constructive. I don’t know what to do? Please help.

Manoj

Gariasi Dutta replies: The reason for your feeling tired could be because you are feeling low and feeling boughed down by work or other issues. In that regard you need to take up some relaxation exercises and try and spend some quality time with yourself. Second point is that you could be having low haemoglobin levels. So it is better to check your hb levels. If levels are low, consult with a medicine specialist. Also increase your iron intake by taking foods like beetroot, green leafy vegetables, spinach.  

Q. My daughter who is 10 years old keeps biting her nails all the time. We have tried scolding her too, but she simply does not stop. At times she gets upset and keeps to herself.

Name withheld,

Via sms

Gariasi Dutta replies: You could try practicing the old remedy of applying bitter stuff on your daughter’s finger tips. This could help ensure that she stays away from biting her nails. You could also tie up her hands with a light cloth in extreme situations if she doesn’t listen to you. But make sure it’s not tightly tied as this might hurt her. Remember that we are doing so as a deterrent for her negative behaviour. Further make her feel loved and wanted. Engage her in a lot of family activities. Carry out drawing exercises or group games like monopoly etc. This shall help create a feeling of well-being for her. Also try and increase her social interaction amongst same age peers. If the behaviour still persists bring her for an assessment.

Q. My son of 13 years is angry all the time, at times for no reason. He has become quite irritable and keeps snapping at his family members.  What should I do?

Ranjana

Gariasi Dutta replies: I can understand your concern. Please remember your child is a teenager now, he will be prone to mood swings etc for duration. Scolding him, punishing him will not help in solving the problem at hand. Be firm with him, do not give in to his irrational wishes otherwise he shall use that to get his wishes fulfilled. Try talking to him gently when he is in a calm state of mind. Find out if any specific issue is bothering him related to school, friends etc. Try and help solve the problem if such is the matter. Also motivate him to engage in physical activities; maybe encourage him to take up some sport of his choice. This shall help keep his aggression at bay to an extent. Please feel free to contact me in case of necessity. Take care.

Gariasi Dutta is a psychiatric social worker in Down Town Hospitals. Readers may send their concerns to d_gariasi@rediffmail.com or mélange.sentinel@rediffmail.com or call her at 9864055560