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
Friday, June 12, 2009
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.
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.
Thursday, October 16, 2008
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?
Friday, July 27, 2007
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
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
Tuesday, July 3, 2007
our darling duffy
Last night i received a phone call from Georgina, she told me Duffy's no more. And i cried. i never thought i will ever cry over a dog! But i did and believe me, it was really really a sad evening for me.A few days after posting "Of dogs and sister" i thought i will introduce Duffy in a totally new post. but instead this could almost read like an obituary. How i wish Duffy could speak, but i have to content that he understood my language( dogs are suppose to). He was the one who totally changed my opinions about dogs. Normally i dont go near dogs. i must admit i am real scared of them, news keep flashing about how street dogs kill humans, especially kids. And most Pet dogs i encountered in Delhi or at home seems to perpetually growled or barked at me while passing by. i Find them a most unfriendly kind of pets! and in a campus like J NU , the population of dogs seem to be even more than the ones outside( we have to give credits to dog lovers assoc. of JNU). however the dogs in the campus are a bit subtle about their likes and dislikes, a lot more diplomatic, i must say( is it because of the campus?)
Anyway, when i went home in the summer of 2006, after submitting my dissertation, i found this white small fluffy dog( I've mentioned m not very good at dog's breeds) welcoming me in the gate, and by instinct i faltered in my step and hesitate for a while. But this dog wont allowed it. IT (he) keeps on bouncing up and down but never once barking.( that would have made me run back a mile), the dog was followed by my mom and sister, i ask,"whose dog is this?" they said it was ours . I was speechless because never in my 20 odd years have i known my parents liking a dog or keep one in the house. But then i knew Duffy was special. He totally changed my opinion about dogs.
Duffy loves all of us, he accepted me from the first without questioning my identity. He love watching T.V. with us , watching the piglets in the pigsty or getting up early with my dad to feed the fishes in the small pond that we had at home. When the time comes to collect the pig feed, Duffy was ready . He will go out with mom on the bicycle, he knows each and every house where we get our pig feed. One day mom was not too well and couldn't go on her usual routine and asked me to go. since i didn't know the ways properly i was a bit apprehensive. she said' go with Duffy , he knows the way' My shocked must have registered on my face because she say" just go, you wont get lost". And i didn't, Duffy leaded the way. Once our cousins took Duffy away for the weekend, they live about 5-6 kilometers away. Around 5pm the next day, Duffy came bouncing into the gate! we couldn't believe our eyes, He had come all the way in time for the routine with mom. He was most sincere about his duties. In Church , he will follow us, he will go directly to the ladies pew and reserved a seat for mom. He knows where she sits every Sunday( since there are many dog lovers in our church, its not uncommon to see dogs following their families,almost taken as granted). Once when me and my other two sisters were to give a special number , Duffy came and stood with us the whole time, giving us support(although he finds the mic wire fascinating ,played with it and got entangled in the wire). When the congregation stood up for hymns, he will stood up as well, keeping his forelegs on the low bench before ours. He was a ray of sunshine in our lives and enjoyed the status of youngest in the family.
It is painful to describe how he died, He was Killed for Food. And its so horrible to think of it! He was so trusting, he wouldn't imagine he will ever be killed, by the same people who looked after him before us (our cousins). They wouldn't tell our family members about it until after they had killed him. I had this culture of Mine where people kill dogs for food, it is so uncivilized and cruel and barbaric.I don't accept dog eaters as civilized humans!
For me and my family , Duffy will always be our Darling dog, no other dog can ever take his place. And i am saying this because i had the good fortune of meeting Duffy. I hope he understood that never in the world will i let it happen if i was around, i hope he forgive us ...........we love him so much!
Anyway, when i went home in the summer of 2006, after submitting my dissertation, i found this white small fluffy dog( I've mentioned m not very good at dog's breeds) welcoming me in the gate, and by instinct i faltered in my step and hesitate for a while. But this dog wont allowed it. IT (he) keeps on bouncing up and down but never once barking.( that would have made me run back a mile), the dog was followed by my mom and sister, i ask,"whose dog is this?" they said it was ours . I was speechless because never in my 20 odd years have i known my parents liking a dog or keep one in the house. But then i knew Duffy was special. He totally changed my opinion about dogs.
Duffy loves all of us, he accepted me from the first without questioning my identity. He love watching T.V. with us , watching the piglets in the pigsty or getting up early with my dad to feed the fishes in the small pond that we had at home. When the time comes to collect the pig feed, Duffy was ready . He will go out with mom on the bicycle, he knows each and every house where we get our pig feed. One day mom was not too well and couldn't go on her usual routine and asked me to go. since i didn't know the ways properly i was a bit apprehensive. she said' go with Duffy , he knows the way' My shocked must have registered on my face because she say" just go, you wont get lost". And i didn't, Duffy leaded the way. Once our cousins took Duffy away for the weekend, they live about 5-6 kilometers away. Around 5pm the next day, Duffy came bouncing into the gate! we couldn't believe our eyes, He had come all the way in time for the routine with mom. He was most sincere about his duties. In Church , he will follow us, he will go directly to the ladies pew and reserved a seat for mom. He knows where she sits every Sunday( since there are many dog lovers in our church, its not uncommon to see dogs following their families,almost taken as granted). Once when me and my other two sisters were to give a special number , Duffy came and stood with us the whole time, giving us support(although he finds the mic wire fascinating ,played with it and got entangled in the wire). When the congregation stood up for hymns, he will stood up as well, keeping his forelegs on the low bench before ours. He was a ray of sunshine in our lives and enjoyed the status of youngest in the family.
It is painful to describe how he died, He was Killed for Food. And its so horrible to think of it! He was so trusting, he wouldn't imagine he will ever be killed, by the same people who looked after him before us (our cousins). They wouldn't tell our family members about it until after they had killed him. I had this culture of Mine where people kill dogs for food, it is so uncivilized and cruel and barbaric.I don't accept dog eaters as civilized humans!
For me and my family , Duffy will always be our Darling dog, no other dog can ever take his place. And i am saying this because i had the good fortune of meeting Duffy. I hope he understood that never in the world will i let it happen if i was around, i hope he forgive us ...........we love him so much!
Friday, June 29, 2007
Of Dogs and sisters........!
I have two younger sisters, i am going to talk about the younger one. once upon a time my sister Georgina had two dogs- Princess and Gruffy, Princess was the smaller fluffy one and gruff y was the bigger one( thats the extent of my knowledge on dogs since i don't profess to be a dog lover). Both dogs used to play together using every trick that dogs know about and love each other dearly. they play hide and seek in the living room between the sofas and the tables. they will get into all sorts of mischief annoying the hell out of mom and my younger brother. my dad was a silent spectator, me....i am neutral since i am away most of the time in university and i dont have much stuff at home. my other sister, she just lock her room either outside or from inside. once princess, as she was quite small in size got inside my parents wardrobe and stole one of dads underwear. then both she and gruffy undertook the task of playing with it and somehow discovered the numerous holes!
both of them must have come to an agreement that one of them has to wear it. Georgina discovered gruffy on the floor with both his hind legs inserted in the two holes meant for the legs with a helpless look on his adorable doggie face!
times go by and one day princess got hit by a bus and died on the spot. that was the saddest day for georgina and gruffy. gruffy whined and pined away the whole week, georgina was inconsolable .
Enters elie, another dog lover and a staunch friend. elie came crying all the way from her home(by the way its 2minutes walk),wearing a black dress(again a sign of mourning in christian tradition). Both of them hug each other and cried.
Enters elie's granny, she came following elie to pray for georgina, so that she wont miss princess so much. such a sweet granny. i wish most of our parents are as concerned about our emotional welfare as they do about our spiritual and academic well being!
some people find the whole business of two young girls consoling each other over a dead dog amusing. its kids stuff they say....and grownups do not consider it worth their while to pay much attention.(theres no personal sarcastic remark here).
but theres also elements of pathos and remarkable spirit of strength in the incident. two young girls loving their dogs crazy, a grandmother who is no longer involved in the crazy warefare of life,finds time for her grandchild's friend, and gruffy sad at the loss of his only true friend.....they all pay attention to one another,mourning a loss, united in grief.Dog, Granny and Two girls. This i see beauty in it..........and me? what more can i say..............m the one reporting the incident as was narrated to me. After all i am neutral.........cant say if i will start liking a dog, after all i didnt have the good fortune to meet princess...as usual i was away...................
both of them must have come to an agreement that one of them has to wear it. Georgina discovered gruffy on the floor with both his hind legs inserted in the two holes meant for the legs with a helpless look on his adorable doggie face!
times go by and one day princess got hit by a bus and died on the spot. that was the saddest day for georgina and gruffy. gruffy whined and pined away the whole week, georgina was inconsolable .
Enters elie, another dog lover and a staunch friend. elie came crying all the way from her home(by the way its 2minutes walk),wearing a black dress(again a sign of mourning in christian tradition). Both of them hug each other and cried.
Enters elie's granny, she came following elie to pray for georgina, so that she wont miss princess so much. such a sweet granny. i wish most of our parents are as concerned about our emotional welfare as they do about our spiritual and academic well being!
some people find the whole business of two young girls consoling each other over a dead dog amusing. its kids stuff they say....and grownups do not consider it worth their while to pay much attention.(theres no personal sarcastic remark here).
but theres also elements of pathos and remarkable spirit of strength in the incident. two young girls loving their dogs crazy, a grandmother who is no longer involved in the crazy warefare of life,finds time for her grandchild's friend, and gruffy sad at the loss of his only true friend.....they all pay attention to one another,mourning a loss, united in grief.Dog, Granny and Two girls. This i see beauty in it..........and me? what more can i say..............m the one reporting the incident as was narrated to me. After all i am neutral.........cant say if i will start liking a dog, after all i didnt have the good fortune to meet princess...as usual i was away...................
elusive chance
I named my blog after a character that has always fascinate me. although i am no expert on the Greek mythology, Persephone i beheld as someone i cannot place among the lively Gods on Mount Olympus. she represent for me solitude, gentleness and ethereal beauty. she can bring out the protective instinct on her kind.Her story is that of tragedy but somehow there is a silver lining in the clouds.....some things that are shiny in the horizon after many downfalls, a hope and another chance!
i used to imagine how frighten she must have been when she was kidnapped by the terrible God of the underworld. her purpose of existence was to bring out the best in nature,and to think of her dragged down in the underworld where no sunlight reach and where everything is dark was terrible to perceive.
Like everything else i believe that there is always some shiny hours in the horizon after heaps of disappointment. i also believe the elusive chance can be grasp and made it worthwhile afterall it cannot be elusive forever. That is what we have to hold on to...without which life will held no meaning for most of us. Like the Goddess dream of another chance to see the bright universe....i called it our PERSEPHONE DREAM.
love lizzylia.
i used to imagine how frighten she must have been when she was kidnapped by the terrible God of the underworld. her purpose of existence was to bring out the best in nature,and to think of her dragged down in the underworld where no sunlight reach and where everything is dark was terrible to perceive.
Like everything else i believe that there is always some shiny hours in the horizon after heaps of disappointment. i also believe the elusive chance can be grasp and made it worthwhile afterall it cannot be elusive forever. That is what we have to hold on to...without which life will held no meaning for most of us. Like the Goddess dream of another chance to see the bright universe....i called it our PERSEPHONE DREAM.
love lizzylia.
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