‘Once on my way to Mokokchung, across Kohima...’
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If you have heard this song (Chiechama) currently doing the rounds on social media, you know what follows. The singer has the best tea of his life, falls for the one from Chiechama who made it and then loses her, but not the hope—his voice yodelling away into the Naga hills.
That’s Chuba Jamir for you, or CJ, as he is popularly known. Without a day’s professional training in music, CJ has raised a yodelling storm at many a party—from the neighbourhood friend’s Christmas to the President of India’s reception.
Also known as the Naga Kishore Kumar for the uncanny resemblance of his voice and diction to the legendary artist, CJ has had a similarly difficult life of flourishing in a multi-lingual music world, a few heartbreaks, and then fighting cancer with a national championship goal. This is his story.
Dimapur
CJ does not like to reveal his age—his voice does not betray him either. Born sometime in the 1960s in Mokokchung Town (though he hails from Longkhum village in Mokokchung district), CJ descended to Dimapur early in life. Third of four siblings, he is an eclectic character—once you’ve met him, it’s hard to forget him.
Business prospects in Mokokchung at the time were modest. So, his parents, KT Yanger and Alila Yanger, brought the family to Dimapur in the 1970s. Here, their Bengali neighbourhood facilitated a keen ear for music, with every household practicing their musical instruments morning and evening. “That culture is gone now,” CJ frowns, lamenting over the push-a-button mobile technology that allows for little effort to be put into music.
“My parents decided to move to Dimapur at a time when Naga people were too scared to settle down here due to the heat, mosquitoes and snakes,” he narrates over a cup of tea at a humble rented apartment in Hill View Colony. “Pythons,” he warns, lest we confuse the fear for that of small snakes.
“Dimapur was very peaceful in the 70s,” CJ goes on to explain, mapping how New Market was the municipality’s then dumping ground; there was nothing more than ‘Church Road’ by way of a town. “We never asked another person their tribal affiliation or which community they belonged to; unlike now, there was a greater sense of camaraderie,” he says of Dimapur.
His parents, both sporting enthusiasts, started a gymnasium in Dimapur—the Nagaland Youth Gymnastic Club in 1978-79 at Circular Road. Martial arts, weight lifting, boxing and other sports have ever been a part of life. Till date, CJ doesn’t miss out on keeping fit for even a day.
Music and language
But his love for music awaited discovery. He brings out a diary from 1982 where lyrics of Hindi and Bengali songs are carefully noted down. His dream was to “cut a record” of these songs one day.
“I am methodical. It is essential for me to get the diction right if I am to sing in a new language.” So his friends in Dimapur helped him to meticulously polish his pronunciation and diction, particularly Bengali and Hindi. From music to languages, CJ listened and picked them up.
By now, CJ has crooned in ten languages, with six being regular fare—Ao dialect, English, Hindi, Bengali, Nepali, Assamese, Nagamese, Punjabi, Marathi and Tamil. In 1984, he took part in ‘Naga Nite’, a singing competition hosted by the Art & Culture Department of the Government of Nagaland, sang a multi-lingual medley and bagged a prize. This was the first time he also heard the famous Methanielie—“singer par excellence,” describes CJ—perform on stage. In 1989, CJ became the first Naga person to win a national level singing talent show on TV—‘Lehar Lehar Sangeet’—where his anti-dowry Punjabi song won him more than a few fans.
“Singing is synonymous with the Nagas thanks to the Church,” where children pick up music at a young age, he notes. But languages and genre continue to remain a barrier. “I was ridiculed in Nagaland for singing in Hindi. Today Bollywood songs are everywhere, and even a Naga Hindi voice hunt,” remarks CJ of Nagaland’s reception of his talent.
Nagamese, he says, became popular 1980s onwards. Though it existed, people migrated lesser, remaining restricted to their own districts, communicating locally most of the time. Even in Dimapur, the Marwaris or Punjabis remained confined in their pockets of town. Nagamese was created by everyone trying to communicate with each other using existing languages as a crutch. “Everyone has their own Nagamese, and it belongs to everyone,” CJ articulates.
Eventually, it was language that took him places beyond Nagaland. “After 1989, there was no prospect of music in Nagaland. But linguistic adaptation allowed me to mingle with various cultures in various cities around India,” the musician reflects. “Language is the first bridge between people.”
In the ensuing years, he started an NGO called the Socio-Economic & Ecological Awareness Forum, and later computer institutes in Dimapur, Kiphire and Tuensang. Small development contract works kept him financially secure.
Couple of decades later, in 2009, a page named ‘A Tribute to Kishore Kumar from Nagaland’ was marked off his 1982 diary as ‘Achieved’ when he “unofficially” released his first ever record by that title (in Mumbai). CJ’s voice and diction matched the legendary artist so much so that the ‘Kishore Kumar from Nagaland’ was born.
Photos around his house showcase him alongside Dr. SC Jamir, Tina Ambani, Mahesh Bhatt, Pranab Mukherjee, Jaswant Singh, Nikhil Kumar, Neiphiu Rio, all after small concerts he did everywhere. CJ had hit popularity. He made a few lakhs from selling his record. State functions were vying for him. NDTV and Doordarshan showcased him on national television. CJ was a sensation of sorts.
Cancer and conquering it
The Naga Kishore Kumar, however, was doing badly on the personal front. Two marriages had fallen apart. As he hit popularity on the music front, he began to hit depression on the personal one. In 2012, when he first came to know of his mouth cancer, he hoped and prayed it would kill him. But it only made it worse for him to live with.
In 2013, he composed and sang ‘Chiechama’ apart from a number of other songs, all recorded first on a simple desktop at home.
By 2014, cancer’s fourth stage had caught on—all the paan and gutka chewing was now chewing into him. The pain and rot was becoming visible to his family. His mother and sister admitted him to the AIIMS in New Delhi, and then Apollo, where his treatment began. The singer’s right cheek and jaw were completely removed—he could no longer speak clearly, leave alone sing. Later some re-constructive surgery was done by grafting skin and bones from his forearm to the face.
“One day I had had enough and began to do some push ups in the hospital room. When the doctor came in, he ordered me to stop immediately. I was not supposed to do anything physically strenuous. If the cancer relapses, I would die they said. That was a challenge for me,” declares CJ, his cheeks gone but cheekiness intact.
The recovery from surgery was so painful that he decided to take up the challenge—he began weight training again at the Dimapur Gym Club in order to enter a veteran powerlifting championship. “I began to work out so rigorously at the gym that instead of just my face and neck, my whole body ached. Now I can lift weights up to 300 kilos, bench press 150 kilos and do 180 kilo squats,” with the hope that he will bag a prize in the 75-kg category.
