As a child my grandparents would tell me stories about the old days of our ancestors. One wonderful thing that caught my attention was the honesty and respect they had towards each other. I am told that in those days people did not even care to lock their doors, unlike these days where we buy the heaviest of heavy duty locks for our doors. I’m not suggesting we don’t lock our doors, but I wonder where all that safety and trust has vanished in this generation. I always believed that the Nagas were something special and different as a warrior race, people with pride, honor, trust (even if it was just amongst fellow tribesmen) but never did I realize or would you have noticed how much we have changed and strayed so far away from what we once were.
I study out of state, once I returned home after my final exams I decided to make a maiden visit to my grandmother and listen to more of such stories. There is nothing more interesting than sitting by the traditional fire place and listening to your grandparents tell you stories of the past over a cup of black tea. So, I geared up all the necessities and decided to take the long journey down the road with euphoria, little did I know how long that journey would turn out. I went to the taxi stand the next day with a huge smile on my face and my eyes gleaming with enthusiasm because of the lack of sleep. As time arrived the ticket counter guy slapped me with a Rs. 200 taxi fare which made me confused and made my blood boil as Rs. 150 was the normal rate, we had a hot debate on, “Price of tickets should not be changed at random”. The whole ticket counter crew turned against me, finally all they won with a lame excuse about a land slide. I murmured a few slangs and left with an evil smile yet defeated and robbed of Rs. 50. I hopped on to my allotted taxi, a rusty and creaky old Tata sumo with the stench of spice from all corners and chipped off paint. Well my journey began and after few minutes we reached the landslide area, there were dominoes of cars lined up along the highway. I stepped out of the taxi to investigate; the sunken road was pathetic that I could not even make out if it was a river or road that we were travelling on, or were we river rafting? I returned back to the taxi and waited for the driver to bring us the latest news. As the clock ticked away the driver came to us and gave us a news that any passenger would literally jump out of the taxi, take their luggage and walk away, “rasta block hoishae, jabo nabaribo” and without any further delay he took out the cash and started distributing the pre paid fare, when he returned my fare I licked my fingers and started counting, but duh! He gave me Rs. 30 short. I was infuriated and jumped on the issue immediately, “Oye, thirty rupees missing ase” to which the driver sleepily showed me his betel-nut colored tongue and said, “counter charge ase” What? The distance from the counter to the landslide area is just 200 meters and he charged me thirty rupees, since fussing over it would be a waste of time I left giving him the direst looks. I crossed the land slide area with outmost difficulty, negotiating with the yellow colored mud falling at me from all angles. As I reached the other side of the road there were hordes of taxis lined up, but ironically no one was giving us the ecstatic “jabo?” looks, everyone was looking at the sky as if there was an alien hovering above. I approached a taxi driver who had a compassionate look, I smiled and asked him, “jabo?” and he replied “250 para jabo”, I replied instantly with shock, “250 da?” Another hike in fare, I fumed but With no other options left I sat on the taxi. I started chewing a gum and reclined on the seat with a relaxed heart and the fresh air blowing on my face. All was well until an old man started a commotion and was shouting at the top of his voice. All I could make out from the chaos was, “etu toh moi lala maati (land) asae, kon kae bi jabo nadibo”. With curiosity ringing crescendo I decided to pry, I walked up to the crowd gathered there; on reaching the angry orator my ears got raped by the sound of all the abusive words that is known to humankind. The old man was even using his abusive language on the women. Irritated, I asked the person standing next to me about the unwanted commotion. The reply was shocking, it seems the old man was angry because we did not choose his taxi, and as a land owner he demanded that privilege. Three hours ticked by and still the stubborn old man refused to compromise with us and as a human being with limitations my stomach began to growl. I looked at my cousin who was my travel companion to assess her status- she gave me a sluggish look and turned the other way round. Time passed and with rigorous negotiation from both sides the deal was finally made. I heaved a sigh of relief and slipped into the taxi with a smile and passengers too started to pouring in. The driver then came and started counting his passengers; on counting us he found out that there were eleven of us and apparently he took fare for just ten of us. With shock and awe I started to look around and noticed then that apart from me and my cousin sister the rest of them were elderly people. The driver was in a fix, all he could say was, “ekjon extra asae” followed by a flinch. Even though we started to pester each other to confess no one was ready to confess, ironically everyone came out with the most flamboyant answers trying to outdo each other. With my patience running out I suggested that we all pay 30 rupees for the hitch hiker to which everyone agreed. Finally, we started the journey I frowned with disgust and anguish at the way the passengers behaved, as I did not expect this, also especially because they were all my elders. It was the longest journey of my life, ironic that I was headed to my grandmother’s to listen about the honorable days only to be disheartened by the people I met on my journey. But there is always hope.
I wanted to point out the fact that we the Nagas who were well known for honesty and integrity years back is slowly diminishing, a sorry figure that will haunt us in the days to come. I do hope and pray that we the Nagas as a whole will realize this before it is too late and mend our ways. Let us all be united and come back to the way we were and correct each other. Technology, education, society and fashion will keep improving, but it doesn’t necessarily mean we abandon our past. We may have been warrior headhunters in the past and now we are influenced by western education and practices, more learned and civilized, but honestly speaking, those past warriors had the real honor, integrity and pride to live by.
Praying for an honest tomorrow
Chenithung D. Yanthan
University Of Madras
chenyanthan@yahoo.in
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Readers may please note that the contents of the articles, letters and opinions published do not reflect the outlook of this paper nor of the Editor in any form.
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