By – Samuel Ragland Kavahing M
The most magnificent places with idyllic sceneries where sunlight did not scorch its land or enervate the inhabitants of their vitality. These places are often traversed through meandering roads that embrace the jagged mountains. The sweet summer, with torrential downpours, and piercing winters gambol among these states. A tale of the North Eastern states of India: the lands of tribes, the lands of growth. It is forgotten by most Indians but, nevertheless, contributes to the nation, India.
From within these states came a child; to pursue his education, to compete against his generation: so that he’d meet the modern standards, and to contribute to the nation. His father was born in 1979; then, by 2000, he married a woman and begot a son; it was their pride, his family’s joy. And, the father, prudent in actions, wanted to give his son the best of the best education available; so, he sent the son far away. Far from where they lived. As the father’s work compelled him to move often.
Oh! But desires don’t meet their heights. Quite contrary to what the father desired for his son: happiness; unity and cultural understanding. This he wanted for his son to comprehend and assimilate, but alas, it was not the case. Instead, this was what happened, and his son narrated: “My father, what is this? As I’ve grown older, I have heard such absurdity, such foolishness—not from friends for they know me well—but enquires from other students and people alike, they question me ‘where are you from? Where do you live?’ And, when I say, ‘from Manipur, I come,’ they blink. Again, I say, ‘from the North Eastern States, I come’; they are not confirmed yet! They retort back, ‘is it from China you come?’ Or ‘is it situated in China or Japan?’ Their confounding behavior! when they see me, their expression is not amiable or welcoming, but it is of inexplicable hatred. Is it because of how we look? Or, is it because we are better in what we do, father? Yet let my tale not appall you for I have more to say. An incident much worse than mine.
I shall not complain and argue about what I’ve experienced—wait till you’ve heard my compeer’s abuses. He has experienced insults far worse than mine. Sadly, one of my friends, without any examination or interrogation, although he speaks the language, was mocked for how he looked. And those people knew where he was from, and so they asked him to go away.
They said, ‘go sell Momos,’ and ‘work in a restaurant as a bus boy.’ They taunted him with scorn and disdain. He did not seek respect, father. For who is he? He only wanted companions, and he wanted to survive by working his way through school. Furthermore, like me, he wanted to excel in what he did, and to improve his standards; but above all, to constitute his ability for the nation where he lived in. But the poor boy was maimed. Now, even after police protection and care, he limps!” The son perorated his speech with bitter and despondent tears.
The father, then, pondered for a while on what the son said. He added more to what his son had told him. He had heard of such news, such brutality! And so, he replied, “ yes, son, it is true. What you have said is right. What did our people do! Not our people but the nation’s. All of them had one thing in common: none committed a crime. No one was wrong, and not one bothered the other, did they? All they did was to contribute to the nation. They only did what was said, and what was essential. Did not the prime minister himself say to create employment—to fight unemployment? To improve the economy, unemployment needs to be managed, so what did we do? We did what we knew! What was best for the nation and for us! You were sent far away for your education; I wanted you to become civil servant: I wished for you to serve the people of the nation. The people who do not know where we come from! We are Indians!”
“When we say India, as every individual is cognizant of “ Unity in diversity,” “A land of cultures “ Et al., all citizens are proud of such diversity and harmony. However, son, if that is not practiced, then let us, the victims, practice that. Let us stir that latent potentiality to contribute. Those who contribute to the nation, yet hold prejudices, are superficial and pernicious to the nation’s vision. It is similar to constructing a building then tearing it down; not immediately but brick by brick. Morality is the complement of a contribution, be it for the vision or for their benefit. Either way their deeds affect them, positively or negatively, pertaining to what they’ve done. Son, have you talked back or have you had malice while you encountered such an event?”
“No,” he answered immediately.
“Did that pitiful friend of yours fight back?”
The son said, “no, father.”
“Neither did the boy who was almost beaten to death,” his father added; “then, son, this isthe vision: not practicing violence.”
“Basically, this is how it should be perceived: if the colors of the rainbow were one, would there be such admiration, such excitement to look at one; if the nature was only trees and nothing else, will there be any trees left? Then, if it is only one race or lineage of people, what is so great about that? What kind of pride is harnessed when such people have behaved like tyrants and despots: with such parochial and foolish mind sets. No, son, that is not right! That is not what one should follow; so, from now on teach this, explain and stand up for this. To those who abuse, and to those who are nescient of the North Eastern states and others. Let us attain pride in doing so; don’t argue but explain, and strive for this kind of a vision.”
The son was confused, “others?”
“Yes, son, others. I speak of all minorities. Oh! All of us face such oppressions.” And then, he added, “so does every individual in life, yet some have the basic necessities: a monthly income, a home, and an education. But for the minorities, they were repressed from the earlier days till today. Our fathers lacked education but not a heart or the governing principles of traditions. They were deprived of rights as if they weren’t humans at all! If they worked in the fields, grazed herd of cows, and expected a plentiful harvest, how will the get an education? then, how will they get a job? The world has changed! The society too! Yet the mindset hasn’t.”
The son nodded with inexplicable joy—it is the truth! The reality of a nation. “So, the minorities contribute to the economy like the others, except the ones who hold or suppress the minorities because they hamper the growth of the economy. Thus, we need this vision that blends all genders regardless of caste and creed. Without malice and prejudices. We need to teach and help (like some others who stand for the same cause too.) This is how we are contributing to the vision.” The son paused to take a breath and continued.
“Also, most importantly, one should never stop what education entitles them to do; by education we serve the nation, and by a peaceful stand against violence we, like others who do the same, contribute to a vision, father. Am I right?”
The father grimly stood without an answer; suddenly his cast out his emotions through tears that resembled all minorities, their pain, woe and abuses, everything conglomerated in his act.
This is the truth! This is how the reality should be consolidated. The son stood there, in front of his lachrymose dad, almost as if he were the father, he felt his father’s tears. Then, he felt that he could scale any taunting hills and mountains that he would come across in life. For there were many who had lost their lives during the journey, but fears will not hamper his path: he will tread as long as he has breath. All this the son was determined to follow yet there was no tears in his eyes. The son had cried but he will no more; he will shed tears of joy when his mission is accomplished. His father tears waned and transitioned into filial love towards his son. The father hugged his son, he knew his son will adhere to what he has learnt from the conversation. His son will be a blessing not only to the nation but to him as well; to his family and people too. The son will work diligently for this type of a vision.
(The writer can be reached at [email protected])
