He started his career in music at a very young age of 6 Years playing in church services and winning many music competitions at a very young age.
At a time when many of his school mates where preparing for their final exams, Manfulson was busy playing as a session musician in studios making music for iconic albums like those produced by the Khasi Students Union. He continued playing for bands like Conbrio and others. Meanwhile he continued playing in gospel albums produced by the Bible Society India Shillong Auxilliary and innumerable other albums.
Tag: Khasi
I feared and angered
In my younger years,
When men ask me at the bus stop,
“Chinky kitna?”
Until the numbers
Tired me.
And my own violence
Violated my sisters on the streets.
So now i respond –
“Sau lakh” (or more).
There are nationalist, there are racists, there are right wingers and there are these so called ” KHASI SONS OF THE SOIL” whom we term as INTERNET KHLAWAIT. They are found in their natural habitats; Facebook, Whatsapp, twitter and sometimes, in you tube. They are always criticising everything that is not Khasi or written in Khasi along with other languages. Here are some of the traits of these INTERNET KHLAWAIT…
Ka politiks masi kan ktah ym tang ia ki Dalit, Ki muslim Hynrei ia ki Kristan, Ki riewlum, ki adivasi bad kiwei. Kane ka jait politiks ka lah ban pynkulmar lut ia ka rukom Synshar ha ka ri India bad don kiba ong ba ka lah pynpoi ruh sha ka thma ing (civil war) hapoh ka ri.
We have to aware of our status as an indigenous tribe but we must also not forget the implications of the class system in our own state/society. By the way what are the rules of our own Shillong Golf Club? Are all the classes allowed to enter it? And if not what are we going to do about it?
What do you do when you hear a hear a voice from 1928 rushing to tell you the Parable of the prodigal son? Did our language sound like that? Why did he stumble? Who was he? Where did he record it? How was the narrator chosen? Did he get paid for it or was he forced to do begaar? When we discovered these scratchy gramophone recordings done for The Linguistic Survey of India in 1928-29 we had to share it. For us reasons are not merely historical or linguistic but emotional like divining the dead. So go ahead and listen to our ancestors speaking Khasi, Pnar and War.
This is a coffin of a dead 7 year old girl who was raped and killed by her uncle, and whose body was strategically buried by the man inside a church compound. No, this is not a village in North India or any other place in which public and private life is popularly designated as “violently patriarchal.” This is the Khasi Jaintia Hills in Meghalaya, often hitting national and international headlines for fake and catchy narratives like “women’s empowerment ” and “gender equality.”
For the good part of two years, we have been hearing a lot of noise about the Village Administration Bill (VAB). There were protests and speeches about it, demonstrations and weary policemen. The people against it seemed to be in the majority and only the government side seriously thought it was a good idea. In Jaintia Hills, it went off fairly well and was passed without much delay or opposition.
The life and death of Khasi industry is a sombre sight to behold. We have a few people today from our community who own big cars and big egos but we really have nothing sustainable in terms of businesses.
As I navigate my way through the substance of the everyday in Delhi, I become a specimen of strangeness, a piece of curiosity and sometimes, a trigger for disdain. While some sections formulate ideas of sub-oriental and exotic fantasies, some would try desperately to figure out my existence using theory, and the rest, through the sexiness of political love.
What probably were once scenic and beautiful rivers and streams have been reduced to smelly black waters, full of all denominations of solid waste conceivable and something which people only stop to consider, when they have the dire urge to urinate.
Looking at the recent episode in Ramjas College, and having had first-hand experience of the ABVP-fueled violence unleashed there, I am shocked and traumatized by the unbridled attack on the educational space that first drew me to this university. The whole idea of Indian nationalism articulated by these factions is so alien and vague to me. Personally, I grew up being exposed to a different kind of nationalism, that of my own community (Khasi), and my encounter with any form of Indian nationalism was confined to televised programmes on Republic Day and Independence Day or at the most, when an important member of a national political party visits to assist with local election campaigns.
So,
To my country and my people, I don’t pledge my devotion,
Because
To your country and your people, I am but a woman,
To you my dear Khasis and Indians, I owe no patriotism,
Because,
To all of you, I am forever unwritten,
Forever an apparition, an absence.
Armoured with a notebook, a lousy phone camera and a few overnight clothes, I nervously left Shillong alone and drove down to Topatoli in the Nagaon District of Assam, in order to re-enter Meghalaya from Raid Nongkhap,which spreads from Ri Bhoi District into Assam. I left with a thirst for narratives, of people, of nature, of existence in this space whose identity as a periphery was intensified and galvanized in the 1970s, post the formation of the Meghalaya statehood. This was when the river Umsiang was identified as a natural boundary between Assam and Meghalaya and when cultures in the region were starting to fracture, at least on paper.
As we come from the land of the cleanest, highest, lowest, deepest, firstest, buromest, we need to confess to our very own claim to fame – RAIOT is the first online gutterzine of Bishop Cotton Road, Shillong. If the conversations in the Burom class sitting room are anything to go by, this gutter RAIOT view of the world is finally finding its calvinistic place in the far reaches of Meghalaya. So enjoy this curated award-winning best selection of 2016 writings (in North Europe) on Shillong.
Who is a Khasi? What is Khasi language? How indigenous is Khasi religion? Who is a pure Khasi? Are Khasis hindu? Wanphrang Diengdoh’s asks some pertinent questions about Khasi history and identity.
It is laconic, not quite cynical, resigned yet nevertheless still searching sensibility that Nongkynrih fully realizes in Time’s Barter. Given his ability to convey multiple competing impressions within a few lines, Nongkynrih’s turn to Haiku and Senryu in the collection makes sense.
It is very hard to actually begin to categories and study Khasi Comics. It is an even harder task to actually find the copies of these comics. However, if you are fortunate and lucky enough to find such comics, you become a privileged witness and an amazed observer to the history of the comic book in Meghalaya; specifically the Khasi Comics. In Meghalaya, the comic book art form is very young; starting approximately around the 1980s and from that period until the present date, very few works have emerged.
Ha trai u wei u dieng,
Hapdeng u phlang jyrngam
Katno nga sngew ka phieng
Ban sngap ka sur ba tmang.
Just saw the PR film for much talked about Monolith Festival 2016 held at Mawphlang. I have a few troubling thoughts
Lada kadei ban mih sha pyrthei, ka alphabet Pnar kadei ban mih na trai na khyndew shaneng. Kadei ban mih namar ba ka nongrep, ka nongdie jhur, u draibar taksi, u nongbylla ki kwah bad donkam ia ka.
Buddha Weeps in Jadugoda kadei ka film ba paw Nam ba la shna da U Sriprakash. Kane ka phlim ha ka sein ba nyngkong eh ka pynpaw paidbah ia ki jingshisha halor ka jingtih uranium ha jadugoda da ka UCIL ka ba dei ka company ba kwah ban rih uranium ha jylla jong ngi ruh. Ka headquarter jong ka UCIL ka don ha Jadugoda, Kat ta ruh pat ka shim da lah ban khmih ba yn ym don jingktah ia ka koit ka khiah Na ka radiation ba mih Na ka jingtih Uranium ha Jadugoda.
I am in Calcutta. At least I think this is Calcutta. I was told that I would be journeying into the heartland of the bhodrolok and the East Bengalis of Shillong coloured my expectations and bias. Upon arrival though I feel as though somethings have been missed. Like the city, the information hardly seems fresh. It is not current.
Who is a Khasi? What is Khasi language? How indigenous is Khasi religion? Who is a pure Khasi? Are Khasis hindu? Wanphrang Diengdoh’s asks some pertinent questions about Khasi history and identity.
I believe most of us are racist in some way or the other. Our primal tendencies to create divisions or noting differences among ourselves is unfortunately inherited from age old legacy of our ancestors. Though the levels of racial indoctrination may differ from person to person, the concept of racism itself is being taught to the young unknowingly, and at most times without reason. It just happened. One of the outcomes of such an indoctrination is evident in the rampant offensive stereotypes that the Khasis have for each and every ethnic group they had ever intermingled with; Dkhars, Khyllahs, Riewkhlaw, Muid, etc. to name but a few. In fact, we even express a form of xenophobia towards our own fellow Khasis just because they belong to a different sub tribe.
“Kaba i jakhlia khamtam kam dei ki dur jong kine ki thei hynrei ka ktien jong kine ki nong post ba ki da pyndonkam shisha da ka ktien kaba khlemakor, ka ktien ka ba i ma, haduh ba ki da byrngem ban batbor bad pynthombor ia kine ki kynthei. Ka dei shisha mo kum kane ka jaitbynriew kaba ong ba pdiang ia ki kynthei kum ki ‘equals’?”
We do not need “outsider” organizations to come and perform charity puja. In our need for political allies and powerful friends we seem to forget that we have more in common with each other (Christian and non-Christian) than Right wing nut-jobs who seek to further widen the schism. This is as true for the Hindutva as it is for the Evangelical Fundamentalists.
Perhaps this article is ill-timed. Perhaps in the current scenario with various Far Right groups actively seeking a Hindutva agenda it is not the best time to be writing things which they could use for their own benefit. This is particularly true after the recent maiden procession carried out by the RSS in Shillong which has evoked so much reaction.
With change, a culture evolves. The question to be asked is: Should this evolution be guided by a few dominant minds? or should it be let to go how it is supposed to go, naturally, with a promise of a gradual acceptance by all?
Football, cricket and others have essentially displaced the older sports/games which were customarily played by a large number of people, especially in the rural areas.
Here in Mawlai I am clad in the infamous garb of a Maram.
“Go back to your Wild West Khasi Hills, you son of a maram”
Remembering the birth anniversary of U Soso Tham, most celebrated poet of the Khasi Jaintia Hills, Raiot presents five of his most well known poems, translated into English by Kynpham Sing Nongkynrih.
I remember a time back when I was in Catholic school; I was speaking in my mother’s language, Khasi during break time. A teacher walked…
Wanphrang Diengdoh’s photo essay on protests against New Shillong Township by villagers who are being displaced by the project.
I Bah Webster Davies Jyrwa i kren Maitphang ha ka ‘KA MARYNTHING RUPA’ jong i Bah L Gilbert Shullai kaba i thoh shaphang ka put ka tem, ka rwai ka siaw ha kito ki por mynbarim mynbajah bad ka jingiaid lynti ki nongtem ka Jaiaw Orchestra bad ki paralok jong ki.
A far greater threat to the jaidbynriew is within and not from outside. The external fear is an alibi so that the internal problems are not exposed. There is self denial and pretentiousness of the real problems. All problems are blamed on the mynder ri (outsider)
Remembering Ma Hoping Stone Lyngdoh, the original radical of the Hill State Movement and and an uncompromising opponent of Uranium mining in Meghalaya
Gertrude Lamare enquires into the lack of women elders and pastors in the Presbyterian Church in Khasi and Jaintia Hills
Are we Khasis like ‘crabs in a bucket’?
There is a famous Khasi middle class story about selfishness and it goes something like this. There were a number of crabs in a bucket and they were all destined to become dinner at some point in time. The crabs knew about this and they realised that they needed to escape this horrible fate. The story goes on to tell us about how one of the crabs had somehow managed to get a firm grip on the rim of the bucket and was proceeding to pull himself out to the relative safety of the outside world. However, just as he was about to complete his great escape, the other crabs resorted to pulling him back down to the bottom of the bucket. He was, thus, doomed like the rest.
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