Distaste of the Earth: Read an excerpt from the book by Kynpham Sing Nongkynrih

Moina flew to a branch near Khla and said, ‘Khublei shibun, Um La! I had organized this council of diverse creatures chiefly for two reasons. I came upon Um Nik the other day just as he was raving about the unfortunate circumstances of his life. He was literally reeling under the torments of cruel fate. I would even say that he was losing his mind, constantly buffeted as he was by his dark misery. He was mad with grief and mad with rage. I felt pity for him. But I also realized that his suffering has a common source. His tormentor is the same as ours, and the existential threat he faces is the same we are facing. I urged him to seek the help of the animals. He was surprised. But I insisted: “If you cannot seek help from God or from man,” I said, “why not from the animals?”
‘Um Nik did not realize what kind of help I wanted him to seek. We cannot help him escape the tyranny of God, nor can we help him fight against the tyranny of man. From the various stories, we have seen how all of us have been the victims of man since the beginning of time, and doubtless it will be so till the end is upon us. I wanted Um Nik to learn a lesson from us, the animals. The spirit of solidarity he had hoped for was not the only thing I had in mind. It is true we can find common ground in stories of shared discontent; it is true we can dilute our sorrow in the lake of collective sorrows. But I wanted Um Nik to learn something else—freedom.
‘You say, Um Nik, “Black is my despair and bitter are my thoughts!” That is understandable, for how do we lighten or sweeten our days when calamitous fate whips us with one misfortune after another? But at the same time, how should we react to the onslaught of dark destiny? Should we whimper and cower in a corner like our Kyntiap in the Langwarku story, waiting for the lashes to fall? Freedom for Kyntiap came with rebellion, which transformed her situation. But it is different for you, Um Nik. You were paralysed with despair and embittered by dark moods. The red haze of anger against man might have freed you from your death wish, but genuine freedom lies in cutting yourself adrift, disconnected from the sources of wretchedness, a fluffy down in the wind of fortune.
‘You say, “I have lost my parents, my brothers, my sisters and all the members of my clan. I’m alone in the world now, the most wretched person on earth. What can I look forward to now? Dark is the moment; dark is the morrow.” Yet you live. While you live, things may yet happen that make you smile. Not all the creatures of the forest live in groups or in pairs. Many are alone, and yet they lead normal lives. They eat and sleep; they rise and sing.
‘You say, “My heart aches, thinking about the dead ones; it is as empty as the sky.” Labasa, the leopard, lives alone. When hungry, he hunts; having eaten, he sleeps. What is so terrible about being alone? Unyoke, Um Nik; those who went were meant to go. Fate is neither cruel nor kind. It just is. Carry on; you don’t know what life has in store for you at the next bend of the path. It may be something terrible; it may also be something most beautiful.
‘You burned with anger, thirsted for revenge and blasphemed against man and God! But freedom lies in unyoking yourself from all the things that cause you pain and anger. Tasam and his warriors brought about the death of your sister. Unyoke yourself from your sister; it is her destiny to go that way, her destiny not to keep you company. You may say I am unduly fatalistic, but doesn’t fatalism lead to calm acceptance? Isn’t that a good thing? Why fret about something you can do nothing about? And Tasam will get his just deserts. But if he doesn’t, since those who cause great torment to others rarely get their just deserts, what of it? Unyoke yourself from him. In cutting him adrift, you will also cut all your anger and hatred— your true enemies—adrift.
‘The syiem and his myntris have taken away all your wealth. They have done you a grave injustice. But unyoke yourself from your wealth; if you do, you will see how insignificant they turn out to be—these villains who loom so large in your mind. If your wealth is no longer central to your heart, the villains, too, will no longer be central to your mind. What will you do with all that wealth—with all that junk, alone as you are?
‘You have all the wealth in the world in front of you— fruits, berries, taro, yam, cassava, and so many other things. Be a real creature of the forest: Im rwing, bam rwing, dih rwing—live for the present, eat on the spot, drink on the spot. What need you worry about the rest of the day or anything else? Be a bird; be an animal. Why should you burden yourself with needless worries and responsibilities? Do what you love without amassing things you do not need. Have what you need, but why should you want more than you need? What can you carry back with you? Naked you came; naked you will return. Isn’t that what they always say? Live according to that creed; why should you be concerned with possessions? Let others grab and hoard and profiteer. Let them cheat and rob and kill. They are more savage than the beasts they denounce as beasts. But why should you be as mad as them? You don’t need the things you don’t need. Simple.
‘Earlier, Um La pointed out how man’s worship of profit is the root of all evil. He also said that part of your problem, Um Nik, is that you still think like a man. Unyoke yourself from that too. Purge your heart, purify your soul, empty your mind. Be born again. Do not worry about anything any more, not even about revenge, which had seemed so important to you. If I know humans, what they did to you, they will do to others, who will then retaliate. You will have your revenge without seeking it. You will be happy here, with us—unburdened and uncluttered; you will be at peace. But if you ever go back, remember that it is possible to be warm and well-fed and to enjoy all the good things of life without falling prey to a senseless, acquisitive frenzy. And beware of people. Some relationships are like the breeze that fans our faces now—fragrant, pure and pleasure-giving. But others may entangle you in cords that cannot be untangled. Be alone as much as possible; you cannot hurt yourself. Being alone is not a curse. Blessed is the creature who has found peace in aloneness. I have spoken.’
(Excerpted with permission from The Distaste of The Earth by Kynpham Sing Nongkynrih, published by Penguin Random House India; 2024)