A reality write On Kuki psyche

By Lunminthang Haokip
:You receive a telephone ring. The caller at the other end wants to talk to a me
mber of your family. You grow curious and desire to know who’s on the line. The
caller ignores the query and insists that the person he likes to communicate wit
h be brought at hearing distance.
gets irritated and raises his tone, “Don’t you recognize me by my voice?”, and b
angs the receiver You begin to lose your cool and repeat in a firm voice you nee
d to know who he is in a straight answer. By now, the mysterious caller.
Tongue Pride-Tied: If you ever get hurt by such a curt verbal delivery while bei
ng engaged in a mental tug-of-war on wires of Graham Bell’s discovery with such
a standoffishly stubborn man of woman-born, take it from me that he’s a blue-blo
oded kuki. Like 007 James Bond, the world telecommunicates by introducing them
selves first as Mr. so and so. However, a Kuki in his elements is ill-at-ease to
hold in check compelling impulses at will. He would rather risk the enmity of
a powerful man than tell him his name first, or do so on demand in a tele-conver
sation.

Kinky Kuki: Not for nothing a Kuki is said to be conservative. He won’t do anyth
ing (in organizational social services) if not properly entrusted and can’t feel
at home in every situation. Unless specifically instructed, doing things elsewh
ere is like cooking in someone else’s kitchen and when invited for a dinner, a K
uki worth his culinary taste, will not accept before the invitation is repeated
at least thrice.
Misunderstood Implication: Rev. Chungthang Thiek, in a trip to South Korea, wa
s offered some dress-oufits by his Christian host. The popular preacher with an
entertaining skill that enthralled his Kuki audiences’ church after church, in a
ctuality, appreciated the presents. But habitual modesty made him say, “No need,
its okay, no need brother…….” when he actually needed. This created confusion i
n the Korean host. Thinking something and saying something else is a familiar ga
me of an art the Kuki needs no one to teach him.
Inborn Rigidity: “It’s an occupational hazard to endure the mental make-up of
my fellow-Kuki”, W.L Hangshing, an articulate officer of the IAS-cadre of 1985 b
atch and a keen observer of human nature lamented during his tenure as Director/
TD, GOM in Imphal. He further elaborated, “A shabby guy met me in my office, sat
cross-legged on the sofa and enquired in my own dialect, “Sir, what’s the statu
s of mine?”. Mildly amused by the vague audacity the stranger exhibited, I shot
back, “Who are you and what d’you mean by mine?”

The man with the villain-ish get-up vitiated the official set-up when he owlishl
y retorted, “Arrey Sir, how come you don’t know me when I know you and your fami
ly so well?. And when I cornered him to explain the subject-matter in clearer te
rms, all that the obnoxious favour-seeker could mutter was, “I mean my petition…
…yes, that of mine!” As an exception, for once, the perception based on sure-fir
e hunches of the former DU-champ in rifle-shooting backfired.
The vulnerable Rebel: That’s a character typical of of an average Kuki. He’s got
the grit to aggressively hold his undaunted own under pressure, but will melt d
own like ice in summer and shrink to depths of excessive humility when given a f
airly respectable treatment. Even then, when rubbed on the wrong side, “Kukis ar
e more reserved and arrogant than the Britishers themselves”, observed a promine
nt bureaucrat who has an axe to grind with the sting of the proverbial Kuki-prid
e.
Of course, there’s an element of truth in it. It was this pride of tribe that co
nvincingly check-mated the onslaught of the mighty British empire in this part o
f the country in the second decade of the last century. Their weapons were primi
tive. Yet they weren’t deterred. For once, the sun did set on the British Empire
, albeit for a brief period. Subtle as they were, the British rulers bestowed du
e honour upon the Kuki valour.
Cut Ino Pieces: The brave rebels were jailed in far-off islands, but not hanged.
Nevertheless, a long-term policy was formulated to ensure that the Kukis were u
ndermined in administration, lagged behind in developmental progress and paid a
heavy price for generations for having dared to defiantly pooh-pooh the orders a
nd proclamations of the sun-set-proof empire. The fragmentation into smaller no
menclature names like Chins, Lushais, Kukis etc. to struggle as minorities in
different countries was the result of colonial calculated vindictiveness.
Heads Held High: Self-respect means everything to the spiritually uncircumcised
Kuki. Come what may, he won’t take shit from anybody. This very spirit violently
opposed the British-India’s decree to recruit Kukis as porters to be sent to Fr
ance against their collective will. The mayhem that followed was known in histor
y as the Kuki Rebellion”. Life-time suffering, strangely, was considered more to
lerable than cringing and cowering under the yoke of oppressive subjugation.

A hero in the sixties, a Shillong-based Retd. Major Jangkholun Haokip, is an ide

al example of the Rambo-ish bent of mind that symbolizes the Kuki-psyche. Being
short-built, as most of the hill-bred tribesmen are; bullying colleagues made se
veral bulldozing bids to make a minor of the mistakenly measured Major.
But true to type, the former street-boxing champ, at every provocation by insult
ing remarks from under-estimating comrades, sprang to the occasion to rain an av
alanche of fists-of-fury on the ill-fated challengers’ chin. There were no secon
d rounds in such square deals. It was simply the survival of the toughest. And i
n the rough arena of his action-packed military career, the Major-saab earned th
e sobriquet of “Chatak-patak aadmi”.
Divided They Disintegrate: The centuries-old pastoral existence in the narrow co
nfines of the far-flung hill-tracts casts indelible reflections on the outlook o
f unlettered commoners in a Kuki village. There too, familiarity breeds contempt
.When disagreements crop up in misc. village matters, sub-division gains moment
um on clannish lines.
More often than not, open revolt by an aggrieved group against the chiefship end
s up in separation to found a new hamlet village consisting of a wronged sub-cla
n. And so it goes on. A particular Kuki- hamlet village has only two houses. The
chief announces that a meeting of the village council would be held. The lone s
ubject vetoes that the council does not approve the summon and no meeting was he
ld.
Clan-centric Society: The village set-up, the traditions held on to, and the moo
rings that influence village life all prove the fact that clan, and not land, is
pre-eminent in the Kuki- psyche. Land, no doubt, is under the Chief’s control.
The subjects enjoy small holdings at the Chief’s mercy. When emotions flare up a
nd a break-up is certain, land-holding has no hold over one who’s hell-bent to p
rove his mettle by establishing a new settlement. This accounts for the absence
of big villages in the interiors and the relative scarcity of full-grown horticu
ltural plants around.
Gospel Belittled: A cleverly covered battle for supremacy is silently waged on c
lannish lines. Cold-war goes on in the shade of seemingly hot-pursuit for frater
nal unity. But when it comes to mixing with other communities, the rigid Kuki wo
uld rather bank on a ‘devil’ he knows well enough than on one he doesn’t. In rel
igious affairs, for example, it’s almost considered a taboo to have folks from o
ther communities as members of one’s own church or vice versa.
When a converted tribesman, guided by the Word of God, joins a church outside th
e control of one’s tribe, a notional ‘fatwa’ is served upon the ‘outcast’ with n
o regrets. A native Kuki never enjoys a meeting conducted in a language that’s n
ot his. In the same vein, inter-tribe marriages are frowned upon.
Trigger-Happy Kuki: A Kuki, for all his weaknesses, is a Jack of all trades and
master of a few. You don’t have to teach the Marwari the art of business, the Mi
zo the art of singing and the Kuki the art of gun-making and firing. When he cat
ches sight of a plane flying high in the sky, triggered by spontaneous natural t
endency, he mock-aims the flying plane, as if a gun is held in hand, and says, “
Ohhh! its so beautiful, I wish I have a gun to shoot it down”.
All- Rounder: The upwardly mobile Kuki country- youth, attends college, helps in
the field, chairs the parish Youth Fellowship, is indispensable in the village
church-choir, enjoys the confidence of the circle MLA, pursues odd schemes in th
e ‘scheming’ BDO’s office and still finds time to captain the village football t
eam. And all these hectic activities aren’t even allowed to disturb his prime-ti
me spared exclusively to romance with his lady-love.
Frog In The Pond: When it comes to sports, the Kuki athletes, instead of venturi
ng out for better exposure in tandem with the DSAs and state-level functionaries
prefer to bicker and rub shoulders with their own kinsmen in a poorly self-fina
nced strictly localized yearly games meets. That’s the singular event bored rura
l boys and girls look forward to as a pleasant break from back-breaking agricult
ural engagements.
Heart-beats are missed in the run-up to the top-notch tourney when enthused youn
gsters anticipate the bosom-pals they would meet, the new dresses they would dis
play and the events they’d liked to participate in. They spiritedly slog to earn
wages in the muddy fields and save enough to paint the annual sports-meet red.
Cash Flows: Financing such a meet is no problem. The circle MLA will willingly a
nd calculatingly take care of the expenses provided his political adversaries ar
e not included in the organisers’ list and further provided that he alone is hon
oured as the Chief Guest.
And if the event takes place just before the General Assembly elections, the org
anizers smile from ear to ear over the glut of keen sponsors. The more presentab
le girls of the local area are usually paraded to raise funds at the flash of a
smile. There’s no need to take such a trouble, now that each candidate volunteer
s to outdo the other in donations, not for love of sports, but of votes.
Joy To The Shops: Come December. You can’t miss seeing groups of men, women and
children wearing disappointed looks , carrying discoloured shoulder-bags who re
fuse to disband their walking-style in single-files on the broad streets of down
town Imphal’s market-places where thousands converge to shop till the become bro
ket in the cheapest stalls.
If the awe-struck bumpkins can’t give up the age-old habit of single-file walkin
g, they can’t be blamed. That’s the way they trudge everyday barefoot on the nar
row footpaths of hilly terrain in a feverish search for a means of earning the n
ext square meal.
Sorrow Back-home: In the city board-rooms and conferences, we discuss ecological
-balance and imbalance in theory. But a poverty-stricken mother struggling to fe
ed eight hungry mouths depends entirely upon jhum- cultivation for survival. Top
-soil erosion doesn’t top her daily priorities.
Widowed by the bloodshed of recent ethnic clashes, the sickly and fragile mother
, with her ill-fed and ill-clad unschooled children in tow, clear jungle-patches
, burn up the dry foliage and then, grow vegetables, cumin, fruit-bearing plants
etc. Staring at the badly shaven foothills of Koubru-hills, the former CM of Ma
nipur, Mr. Rishang Keishing once said, “The Koubru hill resembles the traditiona
l Tangkhul hair-cut”.
Mother Kuki: As it did upon Mother India in celluloid, the lot of keeping the ho
me-fires burning in most jobless households falls upon the poor mother. Braving
rain and leeches, the compassion-personified housewife, emotionally overflowing
with the milk of human kindness, brings home some ripe bananas among other fruit
s, thanks to God’s concern for men’s requirements. Her youngest child innocently
tears off from the whole a piece of the irresistible produce of the earth and b
egins to nibble.
With great sorrow in the heart, the mother slaps the minor child hard on the che
ek. The wretched family can’t afford to waste a single piece of the edible. Mom
had already given word to the shop-keeper in the market that she would bring so
much bananas earlier before being given some kgs of rice on credit. With money-i
n-circulation on the wane in the rural economy, buyers of locally produced stuff
play hard to get. Items like firewood, charcoal etc. no more fetch enough money
to sustain landless families. To quote Mulk Raj Anand, “Their days are dark”, a
nd because Kerosene oil is scarce and it’s price exorbitant, “their nights are p
itch-dark”.
Societal Gaps: Today, the Kuki stake-holders like politicians, church-leaders an
d bureaucrats, though are capable performers individually, lack the cohesive app
roach to identify and fulfill their own people’s aspirations and expectations. A
s they cannot form a formidable forum for themselves to collectively address and
remove societal ills, the gap between the haves and the have-nots widen. There’
s a gulf of disparity between the comfortably Delhi-settled scions of first-gene
ration Kuki-mandarins and their ethnic-class-impoverished rickshaw-pulling back-
home kindred. This is no sign of a healthy economy.
Made Small: The NRK (Non-resident Kuki)’s achievements in acquiring name, fame a
nd dame in the national capital is quite commendable. Yet humanity demands that
society’s top heads be put together in a brain-storming session and its best ner
ves be strained till the sun goes cold to find out the cause of the ceaseless su
ffering that pincer-holds the under-privileged Kuki, and finally suggest remedia
l measures.
Decades ago, the underdog in the then hassle-free tribal society had reasons to
be proud of his heritage. It’s a different scenario now. The plight of the Kukis
, by and large, is reminiscent of the judgement of God against the Edomites, “Be
hold, I will make you small among the nations: you shall be greatly despised (Ob
adiah 1:2)”.
Edomites were the descendants of Esau, the elder son of Issac (Genesis 25:30). O
badiah the prophet revealed the mind of God that it was their pride that aroused
the Almighty’s anger to fall upon them. “The pride of your heart has deceived y
ou; you who dwell in the clefts of the rock, whose habitations is high; you who
say I your heart, who will bring me to the ground?(Obadiah 1:3)”.
My Roots: Yeah, born a Kuki myself (before my spiritual birth against a Christia
n), I’m taking off the cushioning glove of writing in third-person that denies m
e a direct touch; and am pushing my pen through in first-person to effectively i
nk a burdensome spirit that is my own in a language that’s not my own.
Hollow Pride: Our forefathers gloried in their courage, conquests and unrestrain
ed freedom. Hauntingly lyrical paeans of praise were sung and mentally preserved
even to date. Their dominion stretched from one range to another “in the clefts
of the rock”. In heathen pride, over jars of rice-beer, they repeatedly sang, “
Who will bring me down to the ground from our secure abodes between Taret (a riv
er in Manipur) and Jaangdung (a river in Burma)”.
Kut Pest? Alas, today, does it make sense to sing the same song with our heads
held high when we don’t even have a district we can exclusively call our own? An
d when our married sisters, in torn clothes, carrying pots of cooked- meat on th
eir heads, and sick children on their backs, hard-sell the stuff from door to do
or for want of any alternative source of income, does it augur well to burn up l
akhs of rupees on a night’s celebration of a spiritually irrelevant and cultural
ly modified jamboree called modern kut-fest?
Unbroken curses: I fully agree that Kut-fest is not the only societal misadventu
re we are morally degraded by. I also believe that a host of unbroken curses tha
t we inherited as a legacy from our common ancestry worked together to make us s
mall among the nations and be greatly despised. If not washed clean by the blood
of Jesus through repentance and conscience-cleansing, curses can go down and do
wn one’s lineage. “For I, the Lord your God am a jealous God, visiting the iniqu
ity of the fathers upon the children unto the third and fourth generations of th
ose who hate me (Genesis 20:5).

But, looking back at recent history, the graph of our misery and distress soared
higher and higher in direct proportion to our heart-and-soul devotion to this F
rankenstine of a carnal carnival called kut. Now, even the founders cannot und
o what has been done so lavishly. A vast potential of youthful energy that could
, if properly channelized, have improved our lot and prestige-percentage, had be
en wasted in feeding the worthless part of our souls.
“For all that is in the world – the lust of the flesh, the lust of the eyes and
the pride of life – is not of the Father but of the world (1 John2:16)”.
Double-edged Transgression: Yes, it’s the pride of life that made us small. Prid
e in self made king Nebuchadnezzar eat humble pie (Daniel Ch. 4). It was the bl
asphemous wining that destroyed his son, Belshazzar, and took his kingdom away (
Daniel Ch.5). Kut is doubly guilty of both the sins cited above. In God’s sight,
our most awaited autumnal venture is nothing more than a pompous show of pride
takes us nearer and nearer to doomsday.
The Creator, in His mercy and longsuffering, yet offers a way- out from doom., “
If my people who are called by my name will humble themselves, and pray and see
k My face, and turn from their wicked ways, then I will hear from heaven, and wi
ll forgive their sin and heal their land (II Chronicles 7:14).”

Penitence Can Repair: Repentance is the key to re-acceptance. National sins sho
uld be repented for nationally, and individual sins individually. I, for one, fe
el miserably sad that I myself was once a part of this fest. To quote a late for
mer MP, “I do not blame the system I belonged to; but I blame myself who belonge
d to the system”. And to set the record straight, I hereby show my repentance in
public by rendering the following verses on my reviewed feelings about the taxi
ng annual fun-fare my people will do much better without: