(Re)Meeting the Roots

Thirty young girls from the Eastern Rivers of India came together in early 2021 to co-learn about their rivers, marshlands, lakes, springs and ponds. Aged between 14 to 24 years old, the girls came from a range of indigenous, ethnic and tribal groups including, the Apatani, Nyishi and Adi community of Arunachal Pradesh, the Paite, Zou and Liangmai community of Manipur, the Lepcha and Limbu of Sikkim and Darjeeling, the Lusei of Mizoram, the Debbarma and Jamatia of Tripura, the Ao of Nagaland, and the Boro, Rabha and Mishing of Assam. 

Their river stories and expressions of diverse emotions in vibrant colours came alive through different forms of storytelling which in turn, facilitated their artistic expressions representing the intersectionality of women from  North East and Darjeeling of 2021. 

The outcomes are curated under title of  (Re)Meeting the Roots under the following themes : : Connecting with the River within | Crafted Expressions | Visual Arts/Animation | Oral/Verbal storytelling | Flowing together 

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'Disclaimer : Views expressed in artworks are personal interpretations of participants.'

Connecting with the River within

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Rivers have always inspired us in our journey of self-reflection. The flow of the river tunes with the river inside our body. However, women’s relationship with rivers are often not explored. With women often suppressing their expressions, their form of who they truly are, are often not addressed. 

This platform gave young girls the space to reflect on the river inside them. Often, the younger generation struggle to connect with the deep reverence that elders had with rivers. For some of them,  rivers were in textbooks only.  Avenues were provided for the girls to express freely without boundaries or inhibitions. 

Only when we start reflecting deep inside us then the stories of connection/detachment emerge. The girls were asked to flow in that connection, although for some, deep thoughtful questions troubled them for a few days. These girls were asked to keep the river as an anchor to understand their troubled and detached connection with themselves and their community. 

Beautiful expressions of hope, acknowledgement, ownership and positivity were reflected in various forms, illustrating the diverse emotions of girls with their hometown and rivers.

Crafted Expressions

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Craft is an essential medium which connects the hand directly to the heart. Stories were woven through the lost art of weaving re-igniting traditional forms of storytelling. The motifs, flowers and colours symbolise nature. The process of weaving also was a tool for women to  heal, reveal and express emotions beyond words or any written texts. These expressions are a rich ancestral practice worn in our traditional dresses. 

However, with changing times, these practices are dying and vanishing. But, young ones are finding their own medium to express their stories. These girls are owning back their lost art of weaving and their relationship with thread and wool. 

Jasmine Lepcha from Darjeeling feels that youth spend so much time trapped into technology, the appeal of making something with her own hand was much greater. She writes, “While I was showing Teesta and Rangeet through my artwork, it was not merely two rivers but the collective emotions that we Mutanchi Rongkup Rungkup (children of Mother Nature and God)  have towards them.  With every stitch, I have woven the love and gratification that I have towards the epic Teesta-Rangeet.”

Visual arts/animated stories

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Roots and culture are often depicted through traditional practices like rituals and festivals in villages. These rituals also include  sacred stories which speak of mythical creatures and humans achieving unfathomable feats. Their creative art pieces weaved their ancient stories of rivers and old forgotten villages through new age  media tools so that  the  stories they heard from their elders can live in new and engaging ways. 

 

Linyam Beyong from Arunachal Pradesh writes, “I put a lot of time and effort into making this piece, as the folklore belongs to my mother’s tribe and I felt a deep responsibility to present it in the best way possible. As an avid lover of art, I decided to paint all the components with my hand as I felt that is the medium which gives me the most amount of freedom to express my interpretation of the imagery that forms in my head as I read and narrate the story.”Lal Thanmawii from Mizoram adds, “I specifically chose cinematography as a medium of expression because I fear that the viewers’ creative imagination would not resemble the true aesthetic of folklore. I included sketches along with my narration because through this short clip I wanted to portray a Mizo village and other landscapes.”

Oral/Verbal storytelling 

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Children gathered around the hearth or the fire,  listening to their elders tell a story  or  to sleep to their mother’s storytelling.  Many stories of water were passed down through this engagement. 

Tune, pronunciation, intonation, rhythm were an important part of storytelling. Women held a significant role in passing down this traditional form of storytelling.  But, the relationship between women and water/rivers is fast disappearing. Methods and forms of storytelling are also disappearing with the death of an elder in the village. Along with them, the knowledge of survival with nature is also disappearing. During the Covid-19 pandemic (2020), many elders lost their lives. The lack of documentation within communities bearing a rich water heritage in the midst of a climate and public health crisis created an urgency. 

Receiving these myriad colourful and new forms of telling old stories reconfirms the diversity and creativity in the varied expressions of young girls. These expressions also celebrate the intersectionality in the lives of our girls.

Simasanliu Abonmai from Manipur reconfirms, “Technology has laden us with blessings; it took me back to the past when records, apart from oral narration, were not found. I feel, it's high time, the younger generation  have their community's narratives in various forms and rebuild this pride.”

Flowing Together - Facilitators as Participants

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It is only when we are part of the flow that we can understand the rhythm of the flow. The workshop facilitators shared their journey of growth, confusion, inspiration and pride. The stories helped  the participants to be a part of the concentric flow, merging the barriers of facilitators and participants. We all were co-learning and growing together as women with rivers.  Along the way we addressed each other with various names for ‘sister’ in the diverse languages of North East India and Darjeeling. The personal stories of participants allowed the room to be vulnerable and bear their true self. The vulnerability also helped us understand our incoherent connection with water bodies around us. We accepted that many of us have totally lost our connection with water and river resources. Folk narratives did not make sense as it had shaken the deeper part of us questioning us, of our being and femininity. This void pushed us further to understand our journey with our own rivers from where we came. But, we knew we were connected. The flow was colourful with various river stories, connections and expressions.

 

Closing Note : We are a part of concentric circle 

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It is a rare opportunity where 30 young adolescent girls from Eastern Rivers of India deeply expresses themselves through their smaller unknown rivers. They all personified their rivers and formed a unique relationship with their natural resources. Some of them came closer to their rivers while few of them questioned their relationship with their surroundings. But, this engagement helped us acknowledge each other’s diversity and explore villages and mountains through their eyes and through their voices. Nukmani Jamatia shared  ‘When I see clouds and sky, I am reminded of a poem by Percy Bysshe Shelley :

      ‘I am the daughter of Earth and Water,
      And the nursing of the Sky;
      I pass through the pores of the ocean and shores
      I change, but I cannot die.
      For after the rain when with never a stain
      The pavilion of Heaven is bare,
      And the words and sunbeams with their convex gleams 
      Build up the blue dome of air,
      I silently laugh at my own cenotaph,
      And out of the caverns of rain,
      Like a child from the womb, like a ghost from the tomb,
      I arise and unbuild it again.’