The best of my memories as far back and forwards as I may reach, form the golden thread of both soul and spine. – Angela Abraham
Ngathingkhui Jagoi
I’ve gained and lost a lot of friends over the years, be it simply because I move or they move or maybe because we simply drifted apart over time. When I was younger I had many friends. I still have many vivid and nostalgic memories of them. But to name a precious, exhilarating, endearing, wonderful and joyful living friend, I’m fairly certain Guru Rewben Mashangva (Padmashree), the king of Naga folkblues comes to the top among my friends list. Even if we stay apart, we never lose contact.
His peers who are even senior to him in age call him Awo (Grandpa). But I fondly call him ‘Naobin’ (as equals) and he calls me ‘Naokhui’ even though he boasts about being senior to me by two weeks. We are not childhood friends since we are from different villages quite far apart.
How we met
We first met sometime in the early 1980s. My cousin brother Rinmayai introduced me to him “as a good singer and music enthusiast” at a tea stall in Ukhrul. I was a little taken aback. My first impression about him was – he rather looked more like a ruffian and a I-don’t-give-a-damn type of person but with a great sense of humour. And yes, my reading was right to some extent. I later learnt that he commands a lot of his peers from Viewland colony and led in fights at some point of time even though he never fought himself.
Since I was in Ukhrul too for some days, we met a few times at the hotel. And what he talked about was music and only music, his intentions to learn ‘Tingteila’ (violin), etc. I never cared to listen to what he blah blah-ed thinking that it was useless for me. We never met after that.
After a gap of more than ten years, we met in Imphal again. We were both married men and our perspective about life had changed then. He had sported a pony-tail hairstyle by then. He came riding a typical pink bicycle when I was walking to the Aja Daily office. He stopped and called me, “Naokhui, where are you going?” I told him that I was working with the Aja Daily newspaper. We sat down at a nearby roadside tea stall and chatted over a cup of tea. Before we parted, he told me that he lived at Nagaram colony and asked me to drop by when I was free. We met often after that and became close friends. May be because of his pony tail hairstyle, or for that matter, his pink bicycle, he could be spotted easily among the crowd. I also made it a point to buy a similar bicycle. But I could only afford to buy a rickety second-hand.
Not long after, I shifted my job to Imphal Free Press and rode about 4 – 5 kms everyday to the office.
Solving problems together
I decided to make a profile story of him and visited his place one day. He was cleaning a coconut shell to make a violin. A new Bajaj scooter was parked nearby at the varendah. Before we started our conversation, he happily told me that he had purchased a new scooter and declared that his pink bicycle will be gifted to me. The rest is history. I happily rode back home on the pink bike leaving my rickety bike at his place.
I took rounds in Imphal city on my pink bike going for reporting or hunting news everyday in excitement. However, one elderly friend of mine, Rocky Anal was not very happy to see me on bicycle for my daily job. So he took me to his engineer friend named Dijamani and requested him to award a small contract work so that I could buy a scooter. Tamo (brother) Dijamani awarded two small contract works of Rs 90,000 and told me to spend Rs 50,000 and with the remaining, buy a scooter. He also advised me to hire a contractor’s license.
I was happy but I needed 20k to execute the work. I was deeply lost in thought from where to get the money. That morning Guru Rewben came to my place to discuss about a lyric he had composed. As we sat sipping black tea, I narrated my dilemma and told him that we could share the profit if he could arrange the amount. When I said this he decided to mortgage his wife’s gold ornaments. The problem was solved instantly. In the next few days, we were on our heels on his scooter and all necessary proceedings were completed. But before the funds were disbursed, I shifted my base to Dimapur being disturbed by the Great June Uprising incident. Years later, he told me that the fund was released bit by bit and he also didn’t know how the 30k was blown away. When he visited me in Dimapur many years later, he bought a T-shirt for me as my share.
Friendship with heated arguments
Whenever he came to Dimapur, he preferred to sleep on the floor at my place leaving the hotel room. We enjoyed spending time strumming guitars. But we couldn’t chat when it came to the topic of music. He simply shut me up saying that I knew nothing about music. Such remarks often made me furious and thereby we would start a heated exchange of words. Once, I told him that I didn’t like his dominating attitude. “Our friendship will end here and now,” I told him angrily. But he nonchalantly replied saying that he never gives up a friend once he had made friends. Saying this, he went inside our kitchen and started cooking the pork he had brought for dinner. He didn’t even allow my wife to interfere in the cooking.
I never forget the aroma of that special dish coming from the kitchen as he cooked taking slow sips of whisky. Meanwhile, I just waited for dinner, or let’s call it the ‘reconciliation dinner’.
After the incident, he didn’t call on my number for a few months. Even if he had to speak to me, he called on my wife’s number. And when my wife passed me the phone, he justified himself saying that he loved to call on women’s number. We then had a hearty laugh together.
There are many stories but there was a particular incident which I really cannot forget. Guru Rewben had come down to Dimapur for a programme. After the programme, he decided to stay on for a couple of days. So we planned a lunch together at WE2 restaurant that Sunday.
We wanted to have some authentic sea food which is rather very expensive in Dimapur. As we sat inside the dimly lighted restaurant, I overheard some young folks whispering, “Itu Guru Rewben ase (This is Guru Rewben).” They were there to celebrate the birthday of one of them. They came to approach us to join them. A few moments later, they requested him to sing for them. But Guru said it wasn’t possible without a guitar. Two of them went out to buy a guitar but being Sunday, shops were closed. They came back unsuccessful. Yet another two boys went out again. This time, they bought a guitar from backdoor.
They requested Guru Rewben stand on one of the tables and perform and assured to bear the cost even if it breaks. We had a great time eating and drinking, offered by the unknown boys.
There are many stories about wild arguments, unplanned gigs at private residents, unplanned joyrides, etc. That is all about our friendship. Not letting down or hurting one another but finding a win-win situation where both are happy and keeps kicking as friendship gets older.
Just recently, Guru thoughtfully said to me, “Naokhui, now we are getting old. For us, we can’t look towards making new friends. Whatever we have already, they are our real friends.” How true. …
Memories that bring both new fuel and fire, igniting an everlasting flame that speaks of magic and legend, is one with Guru Rewben Mashangva, the king of Naga folk blues.
While the world celebrates the World Music Day on June 21, I simply wish my friend “Naobin” a very happy birthday.
