Sumi Folktales from J.H. Hutton's 'The Sema Nagas' (1921) - Part 2

Story 6

The Otter and the Leopard-cat

Kaghelomi ni Simi atsa laki anike. Ino ti pini. Inzhulone !

Anyengu-ngo atsugho pama ashou shike. Anyeng-uno  pa'shou atsiighovilo " I-shou, ikuzho timi 'kilo ilono awu pukani," pike. Pa 'shou atsiighoye mtano allo-pike. Pamano timi 'kilo ilowuke; awu laki keghake. Tilehino awuno egha ithougheveke. Tilehino timino po-ithougheveke. Amisii ikipe, anyengu-ngo atsiigho pama heke. Anyenguye po-iveno atsiighoye ala mtano seleku nguke. Tilehino timino amisii pfe atsiigho kuthomo heveke. Tighenguno atsiighono pa'shou anyenguvilo " I-shou, ikuzhe aiziilo ilono akha kegha- chuni. No ghi i-shomhi phekeveno^ i-shomhi siinhye-pfelo," pipuziino pana iloke. Tilehino atsiighoye aziilo kaakeke. Kumo shimono anyenguye pa' shou zukuzhoye, akha itumlai apiloye ipemoke. Hi shi apuziino akhati kitla itulu-ketino kalao siipegheke. Anyenguno tiwuniye ahu itsiipfeake. Pa 'shou nuani keghashi, " I-shou, noye khamlati keghalukeno ku allo-kevishia;nike? " Ti pino-laoye pa'shouye tiuveke.

Story 7

The battle of birds and creeping things

Kaghelomi ni Simi atsa laki anike. Ino ti pini. Inzhulone, Aniza-ngo liliti pama ashou shike.

Lilitino asiikugha nichephe pa'shou aniza kive vekide-vetsiike. Tilehino anizano ti pike " Nono ti shiamu, ino ayeghilo-kechepu kumtsii sa-eghenike," pipuziino ayeghilokechepu kumtsii sa'gheke. Eno lilitino " Ti shiaye, niye ghi kungu-'ghao kumtsii sagheni " pipuziino, pa ghi kungu-'ghao kumtsii sagheke. Tilehino panon aghiishike, kulouke. Eno ayeghilemino aithu akizheo shi-egheke. Eno kungu-'ghaoye aghacho- ngo alokhu pama akizheo shi-egheke. Alokhuno aghachovilo ti pike. " No akizheoke; Ikeno aiithu pfeghelo," pike. Aghachono " Ni-ye aithuno pa zheke " ti pipuziino wumoive. Tamaye awutsa vilo " Nono ikeno apeghiala pfeeghelo," pike. Awutsano, " Ni-ye apeghialano pa zhekeke. Wumoi," pike. Tilehino alokhuno " Ino ikeni

" pipuziino, pano ikeke. Apeghiala-ngo alokhu pama kicheghike. Alokhuno akhwo shi-akeloye kungu-'ghaono kaapike. Alokhu-no asho shi-akeloye kungu-'ghaono nuapike. Eno apeghialano akhwo shiye ayeghilemino kaapike. Eno apeghialano asho shi-akeloye ayeghilemino nuapikc. Kuthouye alokhuno apeghiala pfe-egheve, kungu-'ghaono aghiile kuake. Tilehino panoimo ashi phuke. Aghano atithi bolo ihike. Tighenguno aghano tsiibui, pike, Eno chilichepu azhi bolo ihike. Tighenguno chilichepu huchuhi, pike. Eno izhyuno eghemo- apuziino timino ashi chukhavoke'thiuno egheke. Ashi kahake. Pa tsii-mono azhi kitla agheke. Pa 'mukhu lo nyetsiike. Tighenguno pa 'mukhu huchuhi pike.

Story 8

The Dispersion of crabs

Kaghe angshuno aghalo ati laki piti- sasiiake. Agilino aghokitilo ayeghi pea kelono, achuwono agili 'pukhulo mikitsiike. Agilino yeo, auchobo vekinikelono, ashukhano yeo akhuh 'kinibalo vetsiike. Akhuhno poniaye angshu-ti nekhevetsiike. Angshuno eghepuzii " Akhuh, noye ku-ughenguno i-nga nekhevet- siike?"

 " Ino kumoi. Ashukhano ke; pavilo pilo," pike. Ashukhano pike, " Ino kumoi ; agili no ke ; pavilo pilo," pike. Agilino " Ino kumoi ; achuwono ke ; pavilo pilo," pike. " Achuwo, noye ku-ughenguno i-nga nekhevetsiike-a? " ishi pike. Achuwono ku-umo pimono " ahia ahia "  ishi pipuzii atukholo iloveke. Tighenguno angshuno akuhuvilo pike " Noye achuwo siinhye- pullphetsiilo," pike. Akuhuno, pa kimiyeye, "Kahai " i pike. Kutou ghi akuhu achuwono aoulotilo mikitsUke ghenguno akuhuno pa siinhye-phepe, atukhu akizheolono vephovekelono, achuwo 'muno aghokiti kumtsii iloveke. Ti-ghenguno aghokiti kuchopu achuwo acheni pike,

Story 9

Three brothers

Kaghe aza laki-no teghami laki, angshu laki, timi laki punuke. Teghami no aza sasiiaye azii-kuchuveno ana-tsii azhi-zheno aza akevishi-a. Timi-no aza sasiiaye aza akevi shi-a. Angshu-no aza sasiiaye aza chukano aza'zhi mineveno azaye kimoghwoiye agheke. Aghla laki-no aza-no teghami-ngo timi pamavile pike : " Niye ishi tiveni aike. Angshu alu huvepelo. Niye tivepuzii ikumo khwoveno ikumoshouno alikuli shi-chulo." Angshu alu huveketino aza tiuveke. Te- ghami-ngo timi pamano aza'kumo khwoveke. Pa'- kumo shouno alikuli shi-chuke. Tilehina angshu egheke. Pa'za zhu-pahaiveno atsa pike: " I-za kilao ai kye ? " Ti pino aza'kumo Ihezhuke. Lhezhu-pahaiveno aghalo poveke.

Endangered animals and birds featured in Sumi folktales

The old tales are filled with entertaining animal stories, sadly most of these animals have now completely disappeared from the the Naga Hills because of merciless hunting by human beings. Here are some of the images of animals mentioned in the Sumi folktales.

1. Anengyu - Leopard Cat (Prionailurus bengalensis)

Such an adorable and magnificent, huggable baby! There are many wonderful stories of Anengyu in Sumi folklore but it is really heart-breaking that this beautiful cat that once roamed the forests of Nagaland without fear has almost vanished. There are people in Nagaland including my relatives who still kills wild animals for fun or as an ancient practice and they have little or no awareness about preserving wildlife. I have a hopeless feeling that it might be too late looking at the kind of mindless massacre carried out in last 100 years and our rigid perceptions about wild animals that they are meant to be killed for food!!

2. Akaku - Nightjar (Caprimulgus macrurus)

Long-tailed nocturnal bird, feeds on large insects and nests on the ground. Associated with the myth of stealing goat's milk. Rarely found anywhere near our villages these days.

3. Aqhu - Sambar deer (Rusa unicolor)

Probably the No.1 famous victim. I remember witnessing a procession where a killed Sambar was tied to a long rod by its legs, it large dead eyes facing skyward, and carried around the village with a lot of singing and shouting in the background. These days children in the village hardly know what Aqhu is.

4. Liliti - Dark-necked Tailorbird (Orthotomus atrogularis)

5. Aghacho - Great Hornbill (Buceros Bicornis)

Hornbill Feathers on head gears at Hornbill festival, Nagaland (Photo from http://southdillipunj.sulekha.com/albums/)

6. Atsϋgho - Otter (Aonyx cinerea)

7. Chilichepu - Minivet Red

Pictures borrowed from public domain.

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/File:Caprimulgus_macrurus.jpg

http://imagecache5.art.com/p/LRG/29/2968/C98QD00Z/lawrence-worcester-sambar-deer-cervus-unicolor-sri-lanka.jpg

Sumi Folktales from J.H. Hutton's 'The Sema Nagas' (1921) - Part 1

                          A Sumi Chief and his Wives (Photo taken by J.H Hutton around 1913 -1923  Pitt Rivers Museum Archive, Oxford)

The following stories are in Sümi language exactly as they appear on the book ‘The Sema Nagas’. I am working on an improvised version of these stories in English and will publish shortly. Till then these are for the Sümi readers – a taste of old tales. I am sure you will share my curiosity and appreciation for our old folktales and rich oral literature. 

Our oral tradition is highly endangered and hundred of stories, songs and poetry are lost forever. However, I believe we can still save some of them if we put dedicated and joint efforts to document them.

Please join The Village Microscope blog and share stories or any form of Naga oral literature if you have any.

Story 1

The Plantain and the Hairbrush-tree

"Eno kaghelomi ni Simi atsa laki anike. Ino ti pini, inzhulone! Auchcbono amoghobovilo ti pike, "Noye amuziilono wuchen' kyo anikalono wuchen' kya ? " ti pi-inzhuke. Amoghobono auchobo pishike, " Niye amuziilono wucheni," pike. Paye kucho keghashi; pa 'muziilono wu-epeghe-puziino tiuve, eno amoghoboye anikalono wuchenike-ghenguno itahe ghi a pike."

Story 2

The Sambar and the Fish-Poison Vine

Kaghelomi ni Simi atsa laki anike. Ino ti pini. Inzhulone!

Akhuh-ngo akha pama ashou shi pike. Akhuhno akhavilo " I-shou, timino atsii sasii i hachekeloye, ino aghokilo polo-eghenike. Nono azii shopfe i-nyepa nhavetsiilone."

Ti pipuziino pano itsuwuve pike. Eno akhano akhuhvilo " I-shou, timino aphitsUbo 'kwola khusa-siiwu i-vekhichenike. No ghi aphi tsiibo o-kibono sochevetsii-lo " pipuziino, akhuh pulo sochevetsiipe pike. Tighenguno etadolo ghi akhuhno aphitsiibo sochechenike.

Story 3

The Squirrel and the Quail

 Khagelomi ni Simi ‘tsa lakhi anike. Ti pini. Inzhulone ! Atsung-ngo akili pama ashou shi pike. “I-shou, ikuzho timi ‘liehe ikani” pike. Allo-pipuzuno pama timi ‘lieche ikawuke. Atsungno atheghushi chekeloye timi ‘lichelono atsung meveke. Akilino ahunoghuthavestu  cheke. Atsungno akilivilo “I-shou niye i-ku’ohno suani. No ghi itheheye atheghushilo.” Pike. Allo-pipuzuno akilino atheghushike. Timi ‘liechelono  akili meveke. Akilino atsungvilo " I-shou, i-ku'oh siiai," pike. Atsungno ahu kahake-ghenguno kuno ghuthavetsiimokeke. Iveno akili tiuveke.    Tighenguno atsungno aghala ilomoike ; alughulo chewuve, pike- thono.

Story 4

The Leopard-cat and the Squirrel

Kaghelomi ni Simi atsa laki anike. Ti pini. Inzhulo! Anyengu-ngo akili pama ashou shike. Akilino anyenguvilo " I-shou, ino asiilo akhibo ghutha-siigheni," pike, " Ino ikhu asii akelono eghan ike ; noye ' I-shou, huhwoi ' pino o-melolo kokhulone." Ti pipuziino anyenguno pa 'melolo kokhukelaoye akhino pa 'bolono ipegheno pa 'nhyeti khuphovetsiike, Tighenguno akilino anyengu musano alaghulo ipeghemoi, musano aghasalo asakhelilo awuve pike,

Story 5

The Leopard-cat and the Nightjar

Kaghelomi 'tsa laki anike. Inzhulone! Anyengu-ngo akaku pama ashou shike. Anyenguno akakuvilo " I-shou, kushiye puthou- no eghachenike?"  ti pi-inzhuke. Akakuno anyenguvilo " I-shou, niye mtake," pino, anyenguno akakuvilo " I-shou, asU akeone ghoghoshicheaye ino oputsaniye chenike, musa alone, eno ayeghilono ghoghoshi-cheaye amulhuke, musakevelone." Ti pipuziino puthouno ayeghilo egheke. Pa'melolo ani chekemopaye pa'shou kumono amulhughasi kumsiizhuno musamo. Hishi akelono pa 'shou egheno akaku tsiichuveke.

Source: Hutton, J.H., (1921), The Sema Nagas, London: Macmillan & Co Limited. (Not in copyright)

Bamboo and Kholakiti Haiku

How green the new maize

in the early morning sun;

a field mouse prepares.


------*******------

The cicada song

Filling up the whole forest,

When I am away.

------*******------

Freshly cut bamboos,

Fragrant and ready to fence

The village pig sty.

------*******------

The wind on perfect
Hollow stems of bamboo--hear!

Sound of emptiness.

------*******------

Shadows of workers

Chopping down bamboos; I see

No heads falling off.

------*******------

The Interpretation of Dreams: How pagan are your dreams?

I hope the title will mislead you into thinking that this is something related to Freud's psychoanalysis. :o)

Many years ago I had a dream and hurrah! it was not a B & W dream, it was definitely  in colour because I was wearing our traditional costume: the Tsughumini with its zig-zag patterns of rich red, indigo and yellow on black and the hips-embracing Akhichelachi, the heavy bangles and armbands, long flowing earrings, gold and red head band and the layers and layers of multi-tinted bead necklaces. Something very similar to this:

There was nothing unusual about this dream, it was just a normal REM sleep dream. I am not the prophetic type though I really wish I were; I do try desperately hard to interpret dreams and make the best possible prediction for myself even if the dream is about a dry slice of bread but I fail miserably in the future-gazing department. I like to dream at night and day-dream as well and I also have this annoying habit of narrating my dreams to anyone I see first in the morning. I wonder if people keep a journal of their nightly dreams.... 

Anyway, I still remember this particular dream not because I was lucid dreaming or something that sort but because of what happened after I woke up. I narrated this dream to I cannot recollect whom but this person clearly told me that I had a "pagan" dream. Dreaming about our ancestors, our ancient traditions and rituals and especially participating in our traditional festivities of our pagan past in a dream was certainly not a good sign at all. I was younger and less interested in these meanings then but it did strike me as odd that dreams could be classified into pagan and un-pagan. 

I understand the word "pagan" refers to people following polytheistic religion or also "followers of rustic or provincial religion". The interpreter of my dream did not use the word "pagan" since we do not have an equivalent word in our language but the meaning conveyed was exactly as the word suggests.

Years later when I was living in a girls hostel I had another dream...by now I think I sound like a female Joseph but the interpretation given by my friends was quite thought-provoking. In this dream I saw a very popular goddess known for her physical power and fiery temperament throwing something (probably a power-pack lol!) in my direction. A group of friends thought this was the queen of all pagan dreams and I might face something difficult to dream such a thing. In an unrelated event when I was discussing about something with another friend (who speaks a different language and is not from Nagaland), we somehow got into a conversation about this goddess and it reminded me of my dramatic dream. I mentioned it to my friend and to my surprise she also had an interpretation - she thought I was blessed to have seen this goddess in a dream. 

These interpretations are interesting but what is even more interesting to me is how we have come to form these assumptions and the meanings we give to things as harmless as headbands or traditional dresses, even in a dream! It must have taken a lot of brain-washing to make ourselves despise our own culture as "pagan"  and to love and embrace something else more "un-pagan". We cannot deny that we have learned so much from others and we still need to learn more. Many good changes have taken place and we've given up our horrific head-chopping habits as well as many "uncivilized" methods of living as the world  slowly evolves into one big flat village but I hope we can interpret our dreams without condemning who we were as "too rustic" or "evil". 

I feel this great need to resurrect what is lost and things from our past that were denounced as filthy and heathen creating this forceful unnatural gap - like the growth of a plant suddenly stunted taking the present buds to nowhere. Digging up dinosaur remains is important so is finding an 800 year old Roman helmet, searching for some bits and pieces of a pagan necklace and mending them together will surely be worthwhile to ease this sense of loss.

Hymns and the Naga Hills

I was listening to BBC Radio 4 today and happened to stumble upon this program called Soul Music: Series 10: How Great Thou Art.

'How Great Thou Art'  is one of the best hymns that I believe has the power to uplift anyone's mood any time. This beautiful hymn had its origins from Swedish folk tune and a poem written by a Swedish preacher, Carl  Boberg in 1885, the melody was later rearranged and translated to English by Stuart K. Hine, an English Missonary in Poland in the early 20th century.

Inspired by the sight and sounds of Carpathia mountains, thunder storms and forest glades, Hine penned these beautiful lyrics. The hymn was copyrighted in 1953.

O Lord my God, When I in awesome wonder,
Consider all the worlds Thy Hands have made;
I see the stars, I hear the rolling thunder,
Thy power throughout the universe displayed.

Then sings my soul, My Saviour God, to Thee,
How great Thou art, How great Thou art.
Then sings my soul, My Saviour God, to Thee,
How great Thou art, How great Thou art!


When through the woods, and forest glades I wander,
And hear the birds sing sweetly in the trees.
When I look down, from lofty mountain grandeur
And see the brook, and feel the gentle breeze.


Then sings my soul, My Saviour God, to Thee,
How great Thou art, How great Thou art.
Then sings my soul, My Saviour God, to Thee,
How great Thou art, How great Thou art!


And when I think, that God, His Son not sparing;
Sent Him to die, I scarce can take it in;
That on the Cross, my burden gladly bearing,
He bled and died to take away my sin.


Then sings my soul, My Saviour God, to Thee,
How great Thou art, How great Thou art.
Then sings my soul, My Saviour God, to Thee,
How great Thou art, How great Thou art!


When Christ shall come, with shout of acclamation,
And take me home, what joy shall fill my heart.
Then I shall bow, in humble adoration,
And then proclaim: "My God, how great Thou art!"


Then sings my soul, My Saviour God, to Thee,
How great Thou art, How great Thou art.
Then sings my soul, My Saviour God, to Thee,
How great Thou art, How great Thou art!

To my delight the BBC program mentioned about Dr. J Edwin Orr who first heard this hymn sung by the Naga Choir in 1954 in the Naga hills (when the area was still under the jurisdiction of Assam district). Is that awesome or what!!

Dr. Orr then introduced this hymn in his meetings in the United States and it was later sung by George Beverly Shea in 1955 in Toronto, Canada at Billy Graham's Crusade and Elvis Presely recorded it in 1966.

(Check out http://www.mannamusicinc.com/hgta.htm)

This is short clip of the hymn sung by the Naga Choir recently in Angami Naga language. The hymn is still a great favourite among the tribespeople of Nagaland, definitely mine too. I will try and upload the full song performed by one of the Naga Choirs.

Elvis Presley 1966



Talking of hymns in the Naga Hills, here are some more melodious tunes by Naga singers:

A beautiful traditional song in Chakesang Naga's Chokri dialect by the gorgeous and talented Tetseo Sisters.


A song in Sumi Naga language by the Nagaland Chamber Choir:

Nagaland: Clouds and the Ancient Mountain of the Dead

A fascinating tale of the ancients -  the legend of the Mountain of the Dead. 

This story is from a collection of oral folklores passed down from our ancestors for generations...stories narrated usually by the eldest member or the most dramatic story-teller of the household in the evenings when all the day's work is done and everyone is seated around the crackling, deep red and flaming fireplace, all under one cosy thatched roof. 

These were not just mere story-telling sessions: the narrations required great skill and mastery of  memory, confidence, voice clarity and modulation, intonation, timing, animated hand gestures, facial expressions and body movements... no wonder the stories survived for thousands of years. Unfortunately, I think this tradition died a sudden death in recent years - banished for eternity to the mountain of the dead, and it grieves me immensely. :(

I was fortunate enough to have known two grandfathers who were both great story-tellers and story-lovers who could go on and on with their webs of wonder even after I had long drifted away to another world and this is one such story from my grandfathers' granary of Naga folktales. 

According to legend, this (photos on this page) is the Mountain of the Dead where the souls of people travel to after they die. The ancients believed that this place had great powers and the living had no control over it. In those olden times apart form natural causes the other major cause of death was war - among different tribes, clans and villages, even individuals. The cause of their wars had almost the same reasons as the present day's: power, wealth, land, glory, name and fame. 

It is gruesome to imagine heads literally rolling off headless bodies but since head-hunting was an established practice in those days, it was quite acceptable to chop off heads (not guillotine style but free-style chop with a dash of passion that matched the Red Queen's) of the enemies as grand prizes to be carried back to the village for a great song and dance by the victorious warriors.

Our ancestors used the ancient versions of modern-day missiles, guns, savagery, extortion and manipulation techniques -- their primitive spears, Daos and a certain amount of organised planning were somewhat crude but produced the same results like all wars do: death and pain. 

But there was this place - the Mountain of the Dead to rescue the dead from their ancient defeats and shame. This special mountain was a refuge for the soul of the loser as well as the winner who died perhaps due to a fatal fall over the rocky cliffs after drinking excess rice beer celebrating his heady booty.

Head-chopping was strictly prohibited in the afterlife and therefore the souls of my ancestors made peace, composed and sang folk-songs together in the other world. I am not certain if they were allowed to smoke the aromatic Peace-Pipe but they were happy and ate a variety of fresh fruits.

Yes, real fruits. According to the same legend, the Mountain of the Dead was not an eerie, ghost-infested, dark and hellish abode but a bountiful, bright, breezy and colourful orchard with all types of fruit trees imaginable. The best thing about this place was that the living were welcome in their living, breathing selves to enter the orchard to pay their respects to the dead and to eat as many fruits as they liked: plump passion fruits, pineapples, gooseberries, pears, peaches, plums, cherries, oranges and guavas, but that is not all to the story. 

The living, as we know, are not perfect and are sometimes plagued by bouts of greed and desire for more and more....even in times of mourning. 

So this legend goes on to include a twist of fate for those living mortals who wanted more fruits than they could bite (just like Mr. Adam and Ms. Eve).

The strange power of the Mountain of the Dead was that visitors were allowed to have their fill and even live in the orchard for days and months but on the condition that they do not take even a single fruit out of the orchard. Many visitors loaded their bamboo baskets to the full with their favourite fruits despite the warning and tried to escape. Nothing visibly terrible happened to them and they hurried without looking back, they walked, they ran, for days and days, covering many miles, rivers and hills toward their villages with their heavy loot.

But alas! not even a sign of thin smoke nor a distant glimpse of huts and bamboo groves. When they stopped for a moment's rest, they realised that they have been walking on the same spot over and over for days. It was a trick of the mind to imagine that they were progressing closer to home. The Mountain of the Dead was just and the visitors knew that they had been given fair warning. There was no other alternative but to abandon their baskets and return to the land of the living and that is what the visitors did.

However, some people could not believe that it was impossible to escape and continued to walk with their stolen goods. The legend says that these visitors are still walking with baskets of choice fruits strapped to their heads looking homeward neither dead or alive, forever.

(Photos by Aaron Jimomi:  Mountain of the Dead, Nagaland - view from Zunheboto )