By Eleanor A. Sangma
In the days of yore, the distance between A.chik villages and the weekly marketplaces stretched on for days. The long treks were typically filled with songs and stories that were sung and shared in their makeshift sheds.
Stories have always been an integral part of the A.chik social life; they are shared while labouring in the fields, chanted in appreciation for blessings, or sung in remembrance of the deceased.
These oral histories, which take on many forms, make up a significant portion of A.chik history and the way of life as described by their forefathers.
Many of these tales have been recorded in writing, and many more may be found in songs, myths, proverbs, and prayers, among other formats of storytelling.
While they still exist, the songs are being sung less, the myths are almost forgotten, and storytellers are becoming increasingly scarce. The vast array of stories that make up their own culture are often unknown to many who reside in the urban areas.
Oral storytelling culture is mostly present in the villages, away from the distractions of modern life. Majority of these narratives were birthed by the followers of the pre-Christian animist religion called Songsarek, who retain the traditional knowledge still.
A.chik oral narratives make up a huge part of how they experience and interpret the world around them. They can be found in prayers and rituals, in folk songs, epic stories and songs of lamentations.
Rituals are observed by Songsareks for various occasions, big or small.
The occasions may vary from jhum cultivation to house warming, to name a few. Hymns, incantations and prayers are offered during such events – these have been passed down through generations, with the distinctive intonations and gestures associated with them and are mostly performed by the Kamal or the A.chik priest.
Those who have witnessed the traditional Wangala dance have probably seen the troupe being led by a warrior-like man, holding a mil.am(sword) and sepi (shield) and shouting out exclamations.
This is reminiscent of the warrior dance or grika, performed by a warrior who has come out victorious in something. One half provocation, while the other half is pure self-reverence, the exclamations of a warrior are something along these lines (as recorded by Aldrich Momin), “…I am the leader who initiates things/ I am the pillar and the support/ Hail, I am Goera (god of thunder)/Hail, I am the warrior.” During Wangala, this is performed by the Nokma (chieftain).
Stories also find a home in A.chik folk songs, which are more lighthearted in nature.
Some of these songs are Ahaoea, Ajea, Boel Ring·a, Chera Sola, Dimdim Dimchong, Doroa or Doro Ra·a, Gonda Doka, Gosai Ring·a, Harara, Him Angai!, Kore Doka or Kore Ring·a, Nanggorere Goserong, Serejing, Sonatchi Sul and Bi·sa Mumua/Dingdinga or lullabies.
Even now, festivals and cultural events still feature crowd favourites such as Nanggorere Goserong and Dimdim Dimchong.
The tradition of A.chik epic story narration involves the poetic rendition of the adventures of A.chik heroes and heroines. It is referred to as Katta Agana or Katta Doka and is of several different types. Among them, Dokkotchua, Ring·badria, Katchi Doka or Katchi Ring·a, Dokmandea or A·beng Katta, Ruga Katta, A·we Katta, Saling Ring·a or Chisak Katta and Ring·dikgila.
The essence of such storytelling lies in the tone and voice of the storyteller, known as the Katta Agangipa, as much as it does in the story itself. The subject matter ranges from romance, adventure or tragedy, amongst other themes.
The Katta Agangipa is often a highly skilled storyteller… a poet in his own right. He lends his voice to the characters and they come alive as he speaks, chants and sings.
A great storyteller has the ability to transport the listener to a whole new world. In the same manner, A.chik mythopoets have created such mythical worlds through their stories that survive till today. A form of art which is learned from word to mouth, Kata Agana, is a legacy left by A.chik ancestors; it never fails to spark a feeling of pride in the listeners.
Another form of oral tradition is the Kabe or the A.chik song of lamentation. The term Kabe literally means ‘heartbreak’, and is symbolic of the pain people go through when their loved ones pass away.
According to mythology, man learnt this by listening to a female hornbill that had lost its mate. The touching song of the bird compelled the man to learn it and teach it to his wife so she could sing the same when he passed away. This is how singing Kabe became part of funeral rites. Such songs or dirges recall the life led by the departed.
There are dirges sung at different intervals of the funeral service… usually sung when female relatives of the deceased man arrive to the house. One is sung when the departed one is offered rice-beer for the last time and another, when the body is taken for cremation, amongst other intervals.
If we look at A.chik culture, it becomes evident that each moment, from life till death, has a story to tell.
We tell stories to teach, enlighten, inspire, comfort and entertain each other. When it comes to traditional indigenous knowledge, which is transmitted mostly orally, storytelling is a key technique of doing this. Given that it is the primary method through which their history has been documented, storytelling is the lifeline of an indigenous community such as the A.chiks. An end of this tradition would essentially mean forgetting one’s history.
So, where do stories go to die?
They don’t. The versatility of stories – their ability to be produced, altered, repeated, forgotten, and then resurrected – is one of their most powerful qualities. As long as we remember, these stories will continue to live on.