Wednesday, September 7, 2011
Friday, March 25, 2011
Thank you my dear friends
Dear friends,
Thank you so much for all your wonderful birthday wishes... I loved all the heartfelt comments... Needless to say when i saw them all i was surprised, delighted and moved to tears... it means a lot to me. I am not the measure of what i've done but more of who i am, thank to those who've motivated me and pushed me to greater heights. You all are the reason why I am still in facebook, enjoying my days..
I make plan for a small party but the thought of my struggling father who nobly responded for my call for monetary helps deeply pain me, so I stick to the morning fasting and prayer from the pastor. No party and wine in my birthday, somethime I envied you all, you rocks on your birthday night, those candles, cakes and wine. I want you to remember me, when you are face to face with sadness because of your failure birthday party (in case in the future) that there is someone who don’t even have the money to celebrates his own birthday. I want it that ways.. But you all make 2011, March 25, memorable for me and this year was my best birthday ever. I am another year older and i realized that in life there should not be anything to be scared of anymore. We should just deal with our insecurities, mistakes, and flaws like a grown human being. You make me realised that people accept you for who you are and love you through the moments you endure and smile like theres no tomorrow. So with much resilience in my heart, i hope everyone will love life and live passionately and enjoy his/her birthday in the best possible ways in the future..
Thank you all for your wishes… thanks for listening... thanks for Being... thanks for sharing and caring... may you always be inspired, loved & appreciated ...
With love & affection your friend
Hausienmuan Munluo.
Dear friends,
Melody Zou, Minlun Leivang, Merina Vaiphei, Sithlou Boinu, Zouzam Tungnung, Zouboi Taithul, Katie Tuboi, Caroline Vaiphei, Lincoln Zou, Dkim Yphei, Loon Taitom Simte, Hunkpuu Taithul, Stacey Gangte, Nei khaute, Rich Suantah Zou, Ceebee Guite, Lamn Schulyer Mate, Nengneilhing Kipgen, Kennedy Thangminlian Zou, Khamrocks Tai,s, Vero Kim Zou, Ngaihno Vungi, Lhing Khongsai, Mordecai Zou, Pielty Thang, Joyce Singson, Nun Samte, Zkim H.Munluo, Chingngaihchiin HangZo, Lunte Samte, Bebem Tou’s, Hauie Tungnung, Mary Ann Ducoy, Kevin Zou, Chiinnunnem Touthang, Muante Angels Tai’s, Choikim Zou, Ngulminthang, Emeraldzz Mosby, Them Khongsai, Muanthang Tunnung, Sang Tungz, Lunie Haokip, Mike Manlun, Mohan Guite, George Munluo, Lalam Sithlou, Judith Manlun, Princess Mc, Paco Hangsing, Manga Thomte, Syou Haokip, Lalboi Zou, Grace Valte, Papa John, Lv Minthang, Hatpi Tungdim, Dindin Khawbung, Snow wite, Kym Simte, Ching Lydia Valte, Zizou James, Lamboi Tai’s, Lily Tai’s, Kim Haokip, Lhingboi Kipgen, Jonathan Valte, Dimthuamching Zou, Mangkangzo Tungdim, Ciinlun, Joseph Munluo, Mercy Simte, Suon Suantah, Bethsy Khaute, JJ Manlun, Stephen Lulun, Nem Tunglut, Samte Mangboi, John Pau Zou, Suanching Taithul, Minhoi Hangshing, Boaz Matt p, Leena Milan, Cynthia Snoebel, Mark Lunvontoi, Khozou Zou, Mary Zouzam, Faiha west, Hoih Simte, Dr. Chinpi Kipgen, Chingte Samte, Dimngai Tungdim, Lhing Kipgen, Upau, Lhing Kipgen, Jamchinpau Samte, Elcube Manlun. ( Through Facebook 100 friends)
Jane-Ni, Jeny, Ngaineikim, My little brother, My big bros, Hoinu, Kim, Momawi, Khupboi, Khukhup, Nuanuam, My sister Lucy and niece Kimkim, Kimkim Lamka, Makan Malik, Mandeihat, Mary Simveng, Mercy, Moi Nehrumargh, Kapani, Ashang, Athem Mao, Niangboi, Niangboi Tuibuang. (Through SMS 25)
SMSfi team, way2sms, blogger team, smsgupshup team.
Thanks you all for your wishes.. I will remember...
Thanks you all for your wishes.. I will remember...
The Last tears of Zogal:
War having decided upon, the Zogal Salpha's rapidly crossed the "Border" Paldai river in Singngat into Zezaw, the killing field of Zogal, where the Zou legendary warrior Letkhup Munluo of Singngat skinned wild tigers, Lion and the like and fought the Haokip tatara Pu Hemlam Haokip, and the Zou Army were soon carrying all before them. The British troops were ambushed, harassed, pick-off, booby-trapped and tormented at will by the Zou Armies at Zezaw Hill like the Apache or the Sioux Indians. The British troops they encountered were dispersed with “Suangkhaithaang” and pumpi, Zouthau, bow and Arrow and with the Sword of the heroes. At length the day battle was won, and the victor Zogal Salpha’s returned home at Singngat. The command in chief (Gallamkai) Pu Lagou Tawtah and Hangchin went to the great chief Tonghau Munluo to report to their great chief’s that the tasks entrusted to them had been successfully accomplished. At this time-the year was about 1918 A.D.
From what may be learned from oral tradition handed down to us by our forefather that day Zezaw battle (and there is not the slightest reason to doubt their essential truth) was one of the greatest Zou battle with the British. But a few generations after our forefather fought in Zogal their legacy had vanished. Under the new generation it had shrunk to nothing, leaving only the memory of a few names and battles. The modern Zou generation changes the greatness of their struggles into an old man boring stories. This write-up was not an attempt to study and analyse the Zou wars of independence but an attempt to show to the new generation the superhuman sacrifices made by our ancestor in the killing field of Zogal is worth remembering, and to change the modern generation perspectives toward their sacrifices. We cannot but remember our indomitable freedom fighters, drawn from all parts of Zogam, who shed their blood so that we, live a life unfettered by the ignoring of Imperialist domination and colonial exploitation. Let us not let the Zogal Salpha’s efforts go unnoticed.
SMS for Zogal:
There are psychological moments in life and an insight received in such a moments can change our perspective toward things- history, quality of life and transform for the better, and enriched it. It was peak summer time in 2010. As is and was my wont the first things I do after every meals is check my mobile inbox for message that friends send me, particularly throught the night. There it was, this innocuously simple message which went: “Zogal lai a Ahgawchieng bangtan a sau a bangtan a vanleng leeng e?Zou IAS Question”. Then another message: “Zou napdaw ang kichi chieng a bang a dawng ding e?” A well retrospective messages from one curious young mind. The sheer simplicity and exhortation of the message settled in my mind, and set me thinking, of Zogal and it’s warriors. The sight of half-naked Zou warriors shouting war cried, or the shaking Zou women’s and children’s swarm before my eyes for a moment. Having absorbed the pregnant purport of the message the first thing I did was forward the message, as to remember, to my benevolent friends. After a while in the day my mobile begin to beep with the sound of an incoming message. The Zou IAS Question may be easy to answer, as, it take my friends 10 or 15 minutes to answer it. One reply: “ Zogal lai a ipupa ten vanleeng inntung tan a leeng ding a ahisap uh, Ahgawchieng sauseng lou ding. Zounapdaw lai a hing kou ding mi namdang koima umnailou”. A cosmopolitan spirits answer. Then another messages read: “Zogal lai a vanleeng ipu ten mualtung lah a ana geptho uh, Ahgawchieng sang seng lou ding, Zou napdaw ang kichi chieng a tulai nou a dawta chia dawng ding”. Another retrospective message.
What I liked about the SMS is it’s sheer simplicity and exhortation messages. The messages speak in honour of those Zogal heroes who have consistently proven their worth. It speaks out in honour of those great chief’s and warriors who have fought hard- to retain the right of their forefather and to freed us from foreign grips. Let us in our own small way honour the fighter of the Zou wars of independence. And let us remember the first tears to the last tears of our wars. No doubt, the war was brought to an end on 20th May, 1919, but the last tear’s of Zogal was shed on 29th May, 2010.
The last tears of Zogal:
Tonghau munluo, the great chief, in the time of the great warrior Letkhup Munluo, was the great-grandfather I never knew, kept alive only throught my grandfather stories. More than nine decades after he was imprisoned at Imphal for his political beliefs by the British, I was the first (may be) in the family to stand at his burial place marking his fought for freedom, justice and Independence.
I grew up hearing tales of Zogal from my grandfather. When I was quite small, the stories seemed “Fun, full of dark humour”. It wasn’t until I was old enough that my grandfather revealed the more realistic versions of his narratives. In the summer of 2010, on May 29 I stood on the soil of “Khomunlui”, with my grandfather Khupkhanhau ( Chief of Singngat), once called home by my great-grandfather and mothers and mourned them and all those who have been laid and rest there. My grandfather told me, this is the place of Singngat at the time of the British, where the British burned down and killed one innocent young girl.
I could almost imagine my forefather lying there and forgiving the British soldiers who had taken the life of some of the innocent villagers and burn down their houses during the war, then whispering the name of their beloved children children’s. I imagine my great-grandfather Tonghau Munluo peering down the mountain admiring the beautiful scenic of the land he fought for his children’s, of the land they fought for us. This was a once in lifetime experiences for me. Over 93 years had passed since my great-grandfather fight the British, imprisoned as a political prisoner, as a freedom fighter. Through out those years I never gave up hope that someday my oneself would reconnect these sacred memories with the present. Standing at the place where my forefather once spent their life in Singngat Khomunlui was unbelievable. It was bliss from my ancestor to their great grandson in the present.
I walked around the perimeter of “Khomunlui” that had been the resting place of my forefather, where my grandfather and mother spent their childhood days. Then my grandfather leads us to the North of “Khomun”, while he seems to count his steps. After the seven steps may be eight my grandfather stop and pointed the place; “This is where your great-grandfather and mothers and five other from our families rest. In all seven people from our families laid to rest in one tomb.” He told us. Then my grandfather speaks out to his father Tonghau and to our ancestor at Khomun, honouring them for their great sacrifices during the war and telling them that the villages, the land they defended with their bloods was now shinning like the North star in the Milky ways. After my grandfather speaks out honors word to his ancestor, then his voice become low and he started speaking to his father Tonghau alone, begging him to tell him why he left behind when he was still a child. Then something just hit me to keep popping into my head like a recurring Nightmare; “Senpan momnou zuo mel mulou, sinlai ah na e zuo ang pomlou..”. I stand listening stupidly to his heavy heart. It was the first time I ever saw my grandfather tears, a tears of the past and the tears of the war. A tears long to be shed. The last tears of Zogal. He still gets tears in his eyes and a lump in his throat remembering the day when the whole villages sacrifices for our today. With tears in his eyes, he sings an Ode to the gfallen heroes (Sanemla) and dedicates it to all who laid to rest in Khomun.
Remembering the fallen heroes:
In the above paragraph I have briefly reflected one of Zogal heroes my great-grandfather Pu Tonghau Munluo. He and those who have been laid to rest at “Khomun” made grand sacrifies or contribution to the struggle for the liberation of Zogam or made some grand political contribution to our nation. It is an attempt to smother the hearts, to remind the Zou’s students that everything we enjoy today is the result of someone sacrifices.
War has been a part of the human experience since the dawn of recorded history, and this unfortunate fact has been reflected in the literature of almost every period and culture. War stories were intended to preserve the history or mythology of conflict between different societies. As a great-grandson of one of the Zogal heroes, I have seen the consequences of inadequate honors pay to our forefather and the hugh price that they pay. And the inadequate recorded story to preserve our history. What we need to ask ourselves today, indeed the question we ought to answer, is whether we have been able to uphold or honors the sons and daughters of our land. Let us have an honest introspection of ourselves. Can we in all honestly say we have all done what we can to honor our fallen heroes, those who took up arms to liberate our land? Like the tears of my grandfather, the last tears of Zogal seems to send us a message; “Here lies our fallen heroes who gave their life for our today, honour them”.
Tuesday, January 18, 2011
SOJOURN IN ZODAWN:
On 15th April 2010, I ventured with my grandpa in his car deep down in Zodawn upto near Mizoram boarder in Guite Road for some family business. Then on 21 May 2010 to Behiang and on 24 May to some Ug;s designated campi in Hausapi ranges. In this sojourn to Zodawn i came across many signs which pop out my head or shed in many villages. WELCOME TO....khonuam:..Nuam, read the sign at the entrance of most of the villages as we pass them on our way to destination. whether or not the irony of these registers on the users, it seems like an ominous reminder that here, more than any other place, most people have been struggling long, that the poverty of Zodawn had reached such phenominal depths that most people were living just at the subssistence level.
There was hardly any surplus stocks of foodgrains, to sustain the people against economic or crop failures. These Zodawn people living standard can be compare to those of the people lining in the recurrent famines in India during the British era. With Manipur government policy of least relief or developmental measures, the suffering become acute. And with their NREGS wages 10 percent or 20 percent deducted by some ultra;s, there was a little or some money in the hands of most of zodawn people to purchase food at a higher price or from a distant place.
It take more than four hours to reach our destination. on the ways the deplorable condition of these people make me keep thining. their deplorable economic condition have less impact on the rest of the state;s mind than does a mosquitoes- killing virus. As far as anyone outside Zodawn is concerned, these Zodawn people have, in fact, become nothing more than a voter list or a statistics. We sit far away here in Delhi or in other metropolitan city, safe and sound from the political chaos, and the nightmare living condition in Zodawn. When some curious young mind wrote something about Zodawn socio-economic condition we shake our head over another shameful stories of our hometown and then move on to the next articles or news item. Mautam...WHAT/ Mautam, crop failures, school drop out, disturbed area acts, neglected, corruptions... What does it matter? We no longer stop to think. Or Care. But you can't ignore it when you are there, in the middle of these people, looking at their shabby dress or rickety house, almost non-existent infrastructure and feeling what it must be like to be those people we only hears in some write-ups.
When someone talkes about Zodawn condition, we have a notion ready in minds for all politicians(MLA's) are corrupt to the core, and it is the result of these corruption that zodawn condition is worsening. We the Zou's are expert in generalising. Perhaps that is not a swapping statesment. The tendency of us, zou to view every politician(MLA), as corrupt and a Money Machine is not only false in every sense of the word. But is also indicative of a very narrow and parochial mindset and outlook. it not only highlight the fact that we the Zou's want our politicians to be the way but also exibits our tendency of not wanting to do anything to change the present scenerio. The incident of Ngasuanlei in 2008 show our parochial mindset and outlook on the people and Zodawn, and also that Zou educated prefer to blame the politician instead of going out and do the required of them. we usually do nothing and then we criticise the authority for being neglecting our land.
Along the way one got to see the little sign-post announcing the effort of the local MLA's, "Primary health centre, PMGY, IAY etc..". The present MLA within in his capacity tackled the issue upto some extent. He had been effective in monitoring the judicious use of funds arriving from the state and centre. But it is the middle men between the MLA and local people- The contractor and the government beaurecracy, who corrupted the fund and diverted for their personal gain. It's here, that we, the more educated peoples in the towns and cities, have a place, to fight for the people of Zodawn. We gave too much emphasies to the government for development.
It is time to change our outlook towards Zodawn and our politician. the government would not make us developed, educated and income Zodawn income. it is ourselves who can make Zodawn growth in all sphere. And it is the Zou educted who can fight those corrupt contractors and government beaurecrate, to make Zodawn economic condition a balanced economy of agriculture and a self sufficient villages community.
There was hardly any surplus stocks of foodgrains, to sustain the people against economic or crop failures. These Zodawn people living standard can be compare to those of the people lining in the recurrent famines in India during the British era. With Manipur government policy of least relief or developmental measures, the suffering become acute. And with their NREGS wages 10 percent or 20 percent deducted by some ultra;s, there was a little or some money in the hands of most of zodawn people to purchase food at a higher price or from a distant place.
It take more than four hours to reach our destination. on the ways the deplorable condition of these people make me keep thining. their deplorable economic condition have less impact on the rest of the state;s mind than does a mosquitoes- killing virus. As far as anyone outside Zodawn is concerned, these Zodawn people have, in fact, become nothing more than a voter list or a statistics. We sit far away here in Delhi or in other metropolitan city, safe and sound from the political chaos, and the nightmare living condition in Zodawn. When some curious young mind wrote something about Zodawn socio-economic condition we shake our head over another shameful stories of our hometown and then move on to the next articles or news item. Mautam...WHAT/ Mautam, crop failures, school drop out, disturbed area acts, neglected, corruptions... What does it matter? We no longer stop to think. Or Care. But you can't ignore it when you are there, in the middle of these people, looking at their shabby dress or rickety house, almost non-existent infrastructure and feeling what it must be like to be those people we only hears in some write-ups.
When someone talkes about Zodawn condition, we have a notion ready in minds for all politicians(MLA's) are corrupt to the core, and it is the result of these corruption that zodawn condition is worsening. We the Zou's are expert in generalising. Perhaps that is not a swapping statesment. The tendency of us, zou to view every politician(MLA), as corrupt and a Money Machine is not only false in every sense of the word. But is also indicative of a very narrow and parochial mindset and outlook. it not only highlight the fact that we the Zou's want our politicians to be the way but also exibits our tendency of not wanting to do anything to change the present scenerio. The incident of Ngasuanlei in 2008 show our parochial mindset and outlook on the people and Zodawn, and also that Zou educated prefer to blame the politician instead of going out and do the required of them. we usually do nothing and then we criticise the authority for being neglecting our land.
Along the way one got to see the little sign-post announcing the effort of the local MLA's, "Primary health centre, PMGY, IAY etc..". The present MLA within in his capacity tackled the issue upto some extent. He had been effective in monitoring the judicious use of funds arriving from the state and centre. But it is the middle men between the MLA and local people- The contractor and the government beaurecracy, who corrupted the fund and diverted for their personal gain. It's here, that we, the more educated peoples in the towns and cities, have a place, to fight for the people of Zodawn. We gave too much emphasies to the government for development.
It is time to change our outlook towards Zodawn and our politician. the government would not make us developed, educated and income Zodawn income. it is ourselves who can make Zodawn growth in all sphere. And it is the Zou educted who can fight those corrupt contractors and government beaurecrate, to make Zodawn economic condition a balanced economy of agriculture and a self sufficient villages community.
Monday, January 17, 2011
Bag Packing in Zodawn
By:- Hausienmuan Munluo
In the first week of March 2009. We began our Youth Gospel tour deep into the zodawn hills. Our first destination was Phaibem Village. It was my first tour, so i am preparing well. When we reached Phaibem village after traveling 45 Minutes by the afternoon Bus. Two young girls was waiting to receive us at the village entrance. I was wonder struck by their beauty, hospitality and their confidence in speech. The welcome was so disarming, their manner so friendly and radiant, that my nervousness evaporated before I could say a word. Here, I learnt that it is important not to measure high standard of living (Changkangna) and well being throught material possessions, education, the way we dress and in place where we live.
In the evening the two girls Chingboi and Ngangai led us near khugadam (khuga river) for our bath, they showed us different kind of insect and plant. Calling most by their scientific names and asking me in our own dialect, I was amazed at how much they know. They knew exactly when the plant bloom and what part of the plant is edible. They showed us how to row a boat. I become painfully aware of my own ignorance and relished meaningful learning is not only from good school and colleges in town and cities, but possible only when the emotion and the intellect are integrated.
At every village we conduct night worship services, presenting a very special song with our goog and mellifluous voices with my cousin Khupboi, everywhere we were appreciated. And after the church service, some cosy chat by the fireside other are flattering and long in the moonlit night, I can hear my cousin playing guitar and singing together with those young girls, song like " Solha hingtang ngai aw lungzuan lai ah na e...etc.." It makes me feel lonesome and the song " Nunlui ngailou a um lou e.." echoes in my ears. I would daydream about falling in Love with one of these beautiful girls. Unfortunately for me, these young girls ignored the leengkul and i never got the chance to flatter with them. Yet the act unlocked my imagination. imaginations is everything. If we can imagine a future, we can creat it That is the way of success.
The morning in kullian was exasperated. I want to spent my free time rowing boat on the Khuga River (Khugadam). The girls was exact opposite. They wanted to rehearse song for the choir. our pastor and youth chairman ask me to invite the Kullian girls to join us in our tour. My day begin with quarrelling for the day routine. From here, I learnt the power of disagreement, of dialogue and the essence of living with diversity in thinking. One cannot be dogmatic in matters of taste.
Our tour last for 13 days, but it make me learned what Delhi cannot taught me for the past 4 years. These zodawn people, who we usually called "Mawls" or "singtangte's"- was showing me the value of love, teaching me the meaning of success and real education of learning. Once Chingboi and Ngangai talks with their old friends from school in one village, about drugs addiction, their conversation was such that they would not talk to each other anymore, i then remind Chingboi, not to uselessly urge with those people that she would never succeed him to lead a normal life. Chingboi answer me that " Success is not what we creat for our self, it is what we give and left behind for other". The bond that was created between us was not romantic in nature. It is about the bond of Love and affection, bond of trust and caring. When in Delhi, once I narrated the whole story to one of my Lamka’n friends he commented that it was very foolish of me. Well I have been a fool all my life so what the hell. I was actually quite thrilled about my experience and that experience was perhaps was my highlight in Zoudawn. I can still see the faces of those smiling Zoudawn girls even after three months in Delhi and the love for Zoudawn become my inspiration in my struggling students life.
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