Christmas is here and i keep wondering what can i do this year that will make a difference for me.
should i buy me a new dress? new shoes ? or simply stay at home and cook a christmas dinner for the people i love.. Well i may do all of those, but then it will not make so much of a difference than it was for me last year or the year before. Nothing is new!

A few weeks ago, at one of the Advent Christmas i attended( of many numerous i attended this year) i remember the Preacher talking about how one can spend Christmas : and with whom.

"You can spend christmas as you wish, there is no hard and fast rule about it. You can do exactly the same thing that you've done last year, and the year before. But if you've never done it: why not spend Christmas with some body you've never spent with, somebody not from your close inner group"

Christmas to me as a tradition means going to Church, spending time with family and friends , and people from your own community and Church members; never with an outside group or to be more precise: people outside your own Ethnic community.

We look forward to Christmas as a time of Spending time together with family and love ones, singing Christmas hymns and doing all the lovely things that i wasn't able to do throughout the year: a time of holidaying and relaxing not to mention all the awesome gifts and presents to enjoy.
But how often do we care or take the time to remember those that cannot Share this precious moments with their love ones, or the people who never really knew what Christmas actually means.

Will i be able to cross that barrier and forsake the lovely time( i assume) i look forward to? But then there's really no question of contemplation , is it? One has to just take the step and plunge into it. I Dont know why i thought this could be something really difficult? What do i dread so much of something i haven't really known? is it selfishness or apathy: or something borne in my brainwashed mind?

A letter

My darling sister,

From the moment I saw you first

I knew there was something special

I vowed I will cherish you

Protect you from all harm

I promised to take care of you

But now that you are all grown up

I barely have a thing to say

Only this that I trust in you

Believe you and love you

I want your future to be bright

I want you to enjoy life

I want that you love me too

For what I am

I will do anything for you

Hold your hand when you cry

Listen when your heart’s breaking

You can tell me anything

Coz I’m older I will be there

You can trust in me

When all other things cease

Forgive me if I have let you down

And driven away all your dreams

I didn’t mean to be in your way

All that I had, I wanted for you

To have

I wish that things changes

That you were first and I were last

We will have different story then

I am sorry I miss your birthday

Yet all that I wish for you

You already had them

You got humors and talents

And a big heart to love and forgive

What else can we wish for….?

But for all that life has to give

Remember we chose our own destiny

Plan our own future

Each step we take brings us closer

To the dreams we are weaving

And when things appear gloomy

And life’s become too low

Kneel down and pray

Despair not, trust in god

And we have each others

I will be there for you

For always and more

I want to see you smile

I love you

Affectionately

Your sister

Elizabeth

JNU, New Delhi

Sweet Darlings

It appears the stars fell down from heaven

And fairies came with blessings

The night she was born:

There were fireworks and dancing,

Laughter echoed throughout the house

And no words compared the tears of joy

A golden girl is born

And her mama looks on and thought

‘Will it be sunshine throughout, or will the stars fade from the skies?

Will she have all she desires, or be driven to choose things she didn’t understand?

Will things change for her girl or the same fate she herself endures?’

Smoke appears and the garbage reeks

None came bearing gifts,

The night she was born;

There was no firework nor dancing

Only her mother’s painful scream

And few people shedding tears

No words allowed to be spoken

A little girl is born.

And her mama looks on and thought

‘Will there be no sunshine ever, and stars never appear again?

Will she be driven to choose things she didn’t understand, or

Have things that she desire’

Will things change for her little girl, or the same fate she herself endures?

Years roll by and the girls grew up

People call them fortunate to be born

Sunshine appears yet never for long;

Stars faded before they could catch,

Some desires they stood to gain,

But most things they never really understood,

Taught to obey rules of society

And the girls thought,

‘Why can’t it be that things change for me?

Must it be that I catches glimpses of everything, yet never held them in my hands?

Why do I feel they bestowed gifts grudgingly, make me believe in everything,

set my dreams for me yet never let me question,

Does my mama face all of these and her mama before her?’

summers wind- (private thoughts)

Gently the summer wind blew
On a swing he sits
Unseen he wept
Silently, for no more tears can flow
No greater sorrow has he known
Ever to compare this grief
Death, dark as a shadow upon him
Hath snatched his beloved
Only her memory lingers

Marietta’s cry from afar
Rip his heart in two
What ugly fate rise before
This sweet, innocent child
Alas! Never to know a mother’s love,
Never to hear sweet lullabies,
No one to counsel or guide
He needs to be all of those
Yet he had no strength alone

Then he saw her coming
Baby Marietta in her arms
She sits besides him silent
Gently, the summer wind blew
She of all understood his pain
And he knew why she came
“I did promise to love your child,
Long before she was born,
I come now to fulfil my vow”

As the summer wind blew
From when he met her first
Long forgotten years flash by
His first love, his true love
United in soul they were
Fate favour them once more
He knew he’ll find comfort,
In her arms again

For love of him she comes
For love of a motherless child
She remains
Her love surpasses all
Who can deny a woman’s love?
-by elizabeth haokip

a visit to mark and katy

A visit to Mark and Katy


The visit had been pending for a week. But our spirit of enthusiasm was kept alive by the bits and pieces of news that reached us through our most important source of information- the cell phone. We finally planned our visit for a Tuesday. After many stretches and groans I stumbled out of my warm bed to get ready for the visit. The temperature was typical of Delhi winter and the waiting was also typical of a JNUCF expedition (everyone waiting for one another, the coordinator glued to her cell phone, and the taxi, as always, prompt). After losing precious minutes, loaded with several cartoon boxes filled with clothes and articles that members donated generously, we headed for our destination.

The taxi ride was comfortable enough under the circumstances (seven adults crammed into a little space) thanks to the weather. So was the metro ride to Shahdara station. There you have the famous trans-Yamuna area, so often heard of but so seldom frequented. We had a delightful rickshaw ride from the metro station till Katy came to pick us up from a certain point and led us to where they stayed.

Mark and Katy and their two sons live in a one room flat on the second floor of a building in Janta colony, a slum area. But it gets plenty of “sunshine and fresh air” was what they assured us. Their room combined as a living room cum bed room cum study. On one corner was the bed (not proper elevated bed, just thick mattress on the floor) which is also a most comfortable sofa. On the walls are pictures made by their sons as well as postcards sent to them from their loved ones. To the left hand corner as you enter the door, you can see a wall of unplastered bricks forming a partition which we thought was the bathroom rather than the kitchenette it turned out to be. Mark made us all a very nice cup of chai. As we sipped the brew, we exchanged stories and names, trying to know each other better. The conversation was pleasant and touched upon topics ranging from JNU politics, to their marriage, to their kids’ school anecdotes, to their ministry. Questions and answers flowed back and forth easily. Clearly Mark and Katy were quiet open and unhesitant to our queries.

Their main purpose in living in the slum, they said, is to help bring a change in the social condition of the people in the area. They also help them gain access to facilities provided by the system, facilities which most of them in their illiterate status do not know about. They render help not financially but by giving them advice on what to do and where to go depending on their circumstances. This way they get to know a lot of people, befriending them and trying to let them realize the value of a community life free of unwanted social vices.

We decided to take a tour of the area they live in and meet certain people. We broke up into two groups: the boys (Athang, Rocco, Mauremi and Sam) went with Mark, while Katy took me and Sanjivini along. The galli was crowded and damp. Most places looked rundown and dirty. There were mud and sometimes worse things on the small path. We took a quick round of the colony, market place and living areas. On our way back Katy took us to see a lady who was sick, and whom they have been looking after. But the lady had gone to the hospital and instead of her we ended up meeting her daughters. Katy spoke in the same easy flowing manner with no difficulty in language. The area has a predominant Muslim population and greetings of “Salaam Aleikum” rang everywhere to which Katy responded. Obviously she very much blended in with the community. Then we went visiting their landlady. Here too Katy was at ease chatting to them in her uncomplicated fashion. I do not mean to exhibit an “All Praise Katy” attitude. What I have tried communicating here is that, in her, I have seen a different approach to dealing with people. Apparently Katy and her family were a novelty for the people around them initially, as she herself confesses. But soon this novelty wore off and they were accepted as part of the community. It is not easy to leave your roots and implant yourself totally in a new environment which you have only heard of. And to live there totally absorbing every aspect of that lifestyle regardless of its alien culture, is I believe, a pretty difficult task as you can imagine. But then once you do you share a perspective similar to the people around you it is so much easier to help understand their problems.

One has to remember that this area has a very low literacy rate. The people here do not have access to most governmental schemes. And here is an example of why: in order to avail of “widow pension”, the widow needs to have a ration card; you can’t apply for a ration card without having a proper address; and certificate of address is unavailable without a bank statement or a telephone bill. Now a widow living in a slum, perhaps illegally, whose house is made up of tar and with a plastic sheet for roof, and who earns just Rupees fifty per day washing clothes since she is physically handicapped, can’t possibly have in her possession a telephone bill or a bank account, can she? You can imagine the irony of the situation. Such a lady lives some metres away from Mark and Katy. They took upon themselves to help her, ran around the bureaucratic circle and finally an official from the government visited the area. He made the necessary concession and now the widow is entitled to Rupees four hundred per month drawn from the pension scheme.

Mark and Katy told us several other stories. But what has remained with us is that they are very welcome to the idea of people staying with them and helping them out in their endeavours, whether it is for a few weeks, a month or even a year. All you need is to live with them, befriend people, take them to government institutions, hospitals, and schools or try helping the youths get jobs in the private sector. It will not cost you that much other than a major chunk of your time. As we departed from the place, I could not help wondering what they gained by choosing to stay in the slum. But then I also remembered that we ought to do things not to gain something out of it, nor for personal spiritual upliftment and certainly not for the experiences, but because our Lord Jesus commands us to do so. We are called to love our brothers and our neighbors. And if you would like to follow this commandment of our Lord, I am sure a visit to Mark and Katy would just be the right step.

whats in a tribe?

my mom called me up the other night. "find a nice kuki guy" she told me. i was puzzled because my mom never catagories my friends. i kept wondering what she meant by 'kuki'. to me it means someone who can understand my language. since i am multi lingual i dont understand her predicament. perhaps she means some body who is in the chin kuki mizo tribe. now i find her a little sly. i love my mom and thinks the world of her. but sometimes as mother and daughter its not alien that we had our disagreement over certain issues. one issue is my attachment to people not of my own community. now mom is not a racist. but her main concern is that i may not find he right kind of guy from my own community. i have nothing againsts my community guys. its just that i dont see eye to eye with most of them. or perhaps i met only those which are not suitable for me. i will never know. i am ready to mingle with guys who share my own wavelength, my disposition and my social concern. i turn 26 this month and i guess its not too late to be optimistic.but then, i have the most wonder ful boy friend. i share the same wavelength, vision, inerests and most of all he adores me! so i muse whats in a tribe?

private thoughts-1

once i met a boy so sweet
he made me laugh and my heart flutters
i thought he was the love, my soul awaited
then one fine day he wrote
"honey i'm out , go your way"
that was when the mist of first love unravel
and leads on to endless tears

they told me not to cry
it will pass soon
"a new love you will find"
i dare not trust them
"Age and maturity " they say,
"looks will all fade, yet he will wipe your tears"
they assure

then i met a man so dear
compassion and gentleness personified,
sometimes some stormy gale
yet we drifted along just fine
and when life's crises befall,
when the world turn ugly
and all dear ones ceases to exists
he held me close,wipe my tears
" a friend indeed" and most of all
HE LOVES ME SO....

by- elizabeth haokip