philosophy of rongsum

An individual in rhythm to his soul or one enlightened enough shows no hatred to life or its gifts. His soul dances to the tune of the nature and he is filled with joys of life and somehow finds more reasons to resonate his share of joyful bliss. In fact his very presence emanates the universal goodliness yearned by so many but so achieved by countable few. He touches you in so many ways and yet he is aloof from you. You search for his company in your solitariness and long to soak up the infinite righteousness that so easily exudes from his pure smile. It’s him who finds tiniest of reasons to smile and it’s him whom you can trust for you know well he will not deceive you even in the hardest of times. The virtues we so painstakingly try to inculcate in ourselves readily flows from him.
Such is the story of me-the mutanchi rongkup of nye mayel lyang. I stand witness to the history of human mind. The joy in my heart knows no bounds as I sing with the forest and flow with the river. I have embraced the magnificence of the creation and my heart beats with the cosmic flow of life. I do not yearn for gold or silver neither do I grudge against my neighbors who have so jealously piled their riches. I smile not because I see fault in you but to invite you to feel the flow of bliss in your life which you have so foolishly failed to realize. It’s your fear to surrender to the song in your heart that has seen you so much miseries and pain. I welcome you to my home not to show my lavishly decorated trophies but the pristine feel of being home or to cherish the fact that this is where you belong. Its you who have abandoned the call of your spirit and joined the mad rush for the pot of gold at the end of the rainbow. And you know so well that the rainbows do not last long and also that by the time you reach the end there will always be another handful of your brothers already digging their way. I may not sharpen my spade every time the rain falls during sunshine but I sure have the pot of gold ever gleaming in my soul. Maybe this is why you call me lazy or not-enterprising. Yes I have been called indolent and idle but my friend I do not blame you because I am running my race in a different track. You know very well I do not need to run with you for what you desire maybe what I despise the most. Is it that you fear that I am not running at all or the fact you may reach the finishing line alone and have no one to show your shining medals?

Even as you shout from the rooftops you fail to see that I am not the flesh and bones you are but I am the soul of this land. I can hear what one river gurgles to the other and feel the winds whistling the tunes of lands afar. I can see the message the clouds bring down from the heavens. The sunset bids me goodbye every evening only to greet me early in the dawn as the Mount Kinchum smiles to me with the ginger glow. The passing birds tell me of the seeds I sow and the receding waters of Rongnyu and Rongneet whispers me the catch to follow. Nye Mayel Lyang is in me as much as I am in Nye Mayel Lyang. I don’t draw lines to mark my reach because you very well know spirit has no bounds and RONGKUP spirit floods this holy land.

How many lamps will you light or how many candles will you burn out yearning for what we rongkups never had to strive-“spirit full of JOY and heart full of content”. Can’t you see for yourself? We had our doors open even when you had trudged your tired soles across our sanctified land and we never even batted an eyelash when you shared from our plates. Your family found solace in our hospitality.
I have seen strong persons wither away to a mere reflection of themselves while in pursuit for that never reachable pot of gold at the end of the rainbow. I have heard individuals forsake kingdoms and suffer years of atonement just to elevate the soul to higher grounds of perception where the mind radiates celestial righteousness and finds bliss in the smallest of the creations of the Divine. I have heard of individuals who have discarded unimaginable richness and pursued strict mental discipline to search for the universal reality far from the façade of man made pleasures.
Then I look at myself and my kinsmen and then I smile with knowledge. I know we have already reached where your glittering gold and crisps currency notes can never take you. Yes we are the RONGKUPS of the NYE MAYEL LYANG and I swear by the KOHOM FO that delivered us from the great deluge that I have never seen anyone as happy and as joyful than a Rongkup who loves his MAYEL LYANG and dances with ecstasy to the tune heard by his soul.

.....the questions

Here we go again-a Rongkup to the hilt. Well the journey was not easy nor was the realization. A book by Alex Haley –"The Roots" and it dawned on me. And of course Hollywood flicks, "Last of the Mohicans", "The Last Samurai" "Motorcycle Diaries" (another "last"), "Apocalypto", "Braveheart"( kind of like our charismatic punu Gaybu Achyok and maybe even the butt flashing scene), or even the romantic stuff like "Sweet Home Alabama" (no not the Lynyrd Skynyrd song) came along and each inspired me in a different yet effective way. For those who did not hear any bells ring-these are the very stuff that etched into me the very essence of being the "Mutanchi Rongkup" and I strongly suggest you go through the above list again and this time do so keeping in mind the spirit of Rong Sudkum. I did my part in a Shejum and spent quality time trying to work for the rongkups of Renjyong lyang. But there always stood a question in my versatile mind-where are we heading? To Mayel Lyang or a compromise? Certainly we do have a rich culture and a heritage and language and script that many indigenous people around the nation would give their right hand for it. But yet the obstacle lies in the very hearts of the Rong memong and this has to be dealt with all seriousness and conviction.
There is a huge number in the Rong Sukdum for whom holding on to the glorious past opened new dimensions in their present and gave them reasons to move ahead in life. But what about the countless Rong Ongs, for whom the Heritage is close to the heart, yet have no visions regarding where they are heading in this highly confusing and cut-throat competitive world controlled by ideologies in many ways contradictory to what we believe. The large number of Rongmits and Rongkups just floating away in confusion and going where the wind blows (I am not talking about the Mr. Big song again). Maybe awaiting for the excitement of preparing for the annual Rong Festivals and then retreating to their well entrenched shells again only to emerge in the next year’s festival. Well! Mix all of the above and we have a perfect recipe for uncertainty for the individuals as well as for the whole community. And the Question Lingers on……
It’s indeed very fortunate for many of us who have able and learned thyungs Nykungs who managed to salvage whatever of the heritage and culture we were left with after such huge and massive influence of the influx to many parts of our serene home. To day as we open our doors to the "born again" rongkups we hardly can believe the damage that has been done to the very spirit of mutanchi within them. Yes I am not pointing an accusing finger at anyone but just trying to lay my point regarding the work that has to be done to undo the years of effect of more persuasive traditions on our rongkups. It’s really heartening to see the efforts of the new generation to erase the years of anglification or aryanifictaion or even the tibetanification (wow some words right?) and try to pick up from where their ancestors had adopted a different path. But here comes the Bombshell-it’s really heartrending to see few narrow minded traditional Rongs who find this mass rejuvenation the rong sukdum is going through, a total deception. This is where I think we have to focus and cut out the loose edges so that we have a more stable and consistent rong sukdum where every one is respected equally without any discrimination.
We sure are proud to have Rong thyukungs and nyukungs, mun and bongthings, anums and anoms, akus and aneus et al who have so painstakingly maintained our traditions and culture pure and untouched right from the days of Fudong thing and Nazong nyu. But my observation lies elsewhere. It’s this huge cauldron of intermingling cultural influences that has created a new generation of Rongkups. I am so sure that it’s them who are equipped to inherit the Rong sukdum and it’s them whom we have to hone and sharpen to steer the Rong memong through more challenging times without compromising the age old norms and traditions which we so dearly hold.
Few Hollywood movies I have talked about above have one important common theme-the tragedy faced by the indigenous people when confronted by modernism or dominant alien culture. And yes a smile escapes my lips every time a smart rongkup claims that naming the book by the great Ren Arthur Foning (May Eetbu Deybu Rum bless his holy apil) as "Lepcha-My Vanishing Tribe" was a mistake. If and only if my dear rongkups could pack up their prejudices and look around –it’s not the Rongkups who are vanishing it’s the spirit of the Rongkups. Every time I watch the above movies (when I mean every time I mean it-I watch them very often) my mind opens up to the hardships faced by our generous and simple ancestors who must have gone through the same troubles when confronted by conniving and dominant individuals migrating to Nye Mayel Lyang. What pain must our grandfathers have felt when they saw the destruction of the forests and rivers and of the very nature they lived with, so content fully. Just out of curiosity I try to put myself into the state of mind our ancestors must have been, when in front of their very own eyes, "the ridge where they played" turned into the hub of cheating traders and harassing business grounds. And like telepathy from the past or even a distant beckon from my own ancestor-profound sadness takes over me and even a small hint of modernization fills me with deep sorrow. And the question arises again-what is the most important task at hand for all of us?
Someone has rightfully said-"there is nothing we can do about the length of our lives but we can certainly do something about the depth and width of our lives". We surely have to evaluate ourselves first before we start pointing fingers at others. There is a lot we can do yet we find it safer to fold our hands and condemn others of being less Rong than us. I am so sure that if they do not know where they are heading then its more Rongkup to show them the way rather than find faults in their efforts. "A fool and his wealth are soon parted". So in this life span we have received I sincerely think that we must at least have a loyalty towards the sir name we carry in our tribal certificates (the piece of paper which suddenly becomes so important when we are out looking for jobs or some unearned money called scholarships). Yes my dear Rongkups its shame to hold out our hands every time we receive benefits for being Rongkups (reminds me of hungry stray dogs the joggers used to feed early in the morning) and yet do nothing for the very Identity of MUTANCHI RONGKUP. So with the dream of Mayel Lyang in our hearts we have to move on-shoulder to shoulder and leave no stone unturned till we know that every anum and anom of our memong are proud enough to throw away the yoke of borrowed culture and traditions and happily adopt the "Rongkupness" which is as pure as the snow of Kongchen Chu. Maybe our questions will be answered then, maybe the burden of anonymity we carry today will be shed, maybe we will be able to take a peek inside us and realise that its "MUTANCHI RONGKUP"- that’s who we are……Are we there yet?

journey into realisation

This is inspired by a conversation I had with few of my friends while enjoying the the cold Mayel Lyang chill way up in the Deolo hill. My friend a rongkup to the heart, educated in English schools and spent the most part of his young life enjoying what modernism has to offer. It seems he along with some of his non-rongkup friends had gone for an excursion to the higher reaches of Dzongu. There in the middle of the rich nature he suddenly found his element. He climbed the trees and swung on the creepers as if he had been doing so right from his birth. He jumped the bushes and ran along the narrow path with all dexterity of a local. His joy knew no bounds as he realized his connection to the nature and his instincts came alive. His friends, of course the urban lot, did not fancy his desires and were apprehensive every time he took a dangerous swing or climbed the highest branches. Some one in the group exclaimed-"hey jungle boy". My friend with all his enthusiasm found this remark insulting and took it to heart. The remaining part of the lovely excursion saw himself controlling his wishes to run in the jungles around him. His story ended here and well mine begins right here.
He laid questions for us-why was he so free and content doing the wild things while his friends thought it was foolish and dangerous? Why did he feel so comfortable and at peace while doing things which would have given his loving mother a heart attack? Above all where had he learned to do those dangerous stunts when all he can remember of his childhood was a guava tree and that too a fall from which had given him 15 days of plaster of paris in the right hand.? The questions were many yet the answer was one.This is what we realized- come on it was not him but his Rongkup instincts taking over. It’s those hidden genes in him that danced with joy on seeing the return to the nature. It’s the spirit of his ancestors welcoming him home-the home of all Rongkups-the rich forests of the Himalayas where our ancestors thrived.
Now let me relate another example of my life. I have a Rongkup neighbour, happily married to a Nepali lady with two children and a nice Government job. The journey of life running smooth with the usual bumps here and there. But come weekend he some how manages to escape from his home and family and you don’t find him anywhere. He just is not there or even anywhere I can imagine. This remained a mystery to me during my childhood. Where did he go during the weekend and how come he is back every Monday morning with all his cheer and smiles? Then finally I came to know about his weekend whereabouts much later. There he was all alone, with his fishing rod lazying in the warm sunshine of the river. He did not have a family to feed with his catch yet it was with sense of urgency he left home every Friday evening with all his fishing gear. The only question that arose in my urban mind was why would anyone with such a hectic week take up the tedious task of walking down to the river be it hail or rain instead of sitting at home and enjoying the channels. The answer dawned on me when I myself sat by the river with a borrowed fishing hook with the bait dangling in shallow parts of Rongnyu Ung. There was no greater joy then. Me, the gentle gurgling of the Ungkyoungs and silence of the forests disturbed here and there by the occasional birds calling out to their mates. I invited my Kunchu and Kunyoung friends to share the tranquil and to my surprise they found it dull and boring. Then I realized its not me who wants to be in the river but the Rongkup in me who begs me to return to my home. And how the Rongkup in me rejoiced as I waded along the shallow waters digging under the slippery rocks for hidden crabs!