Abotani was tired. It had been a long day. He did not get much food today, though he had trekked through several hills. He had to forage for food everyday. He had to survive.
Lying down beside the fire, an idea struck Abotani, “I could plant the seeds of the food at one place. I won’t, then, have to go from place to place.”
As the cocks crew early next morning, he took this idea to Aba Liibo and Ane Donii. “A brilliant idea, Tani,” they cried. “Go to Jilyu Myogyañ (Jilyu Myodi) and Tolyo Siipêr (Yomo Barañ). Sow the seeds there. They shall be your aji (agricultural fields).”
“Where would I get the seeds?” Abotani asked.
“Ah, we will find out who can give you the seeds,” Aba Liibo and Ane Donii said.
Help was forthcoming. Hintii and Hirii offered to provide seeds for the primary food items. So, Abotani got seeds of emo (rice), sarse (millet), taku (cucumber) and tanyi (corn) from them.
“These seeds are pure,” they told. “They will yield pure food. They will sustain you in good times and bad times.”
Aha Riñtii brought the seeds of other food items like tape (pumpkin), peruñ (bean), inge (taro) and so on. Abotani did not consider them pure but sowed them to supplement his diet.
Cultivation was thus started in Jilyu Myogyañ and Tolyo Siipêr. Life became more comfortable for Abotani. After some years, however, the yield decreased. Abotani was worried. He consulted Aba Liibo and Ane Donii again, “I have been working hard in the fields, but the land is not kind to me. What could be the reason?”
Aba Liibo and Ane Donii examined the soil and said, “Aha! These fields have lost their fetility.”
“Is there nothing I can do?” Abotani asked.
“Yes, you can, Tani,” they said. “Some distance from here is a place named Liiha Poñtañ. Go ye there and cultivate.”
So, Abotani shifted to Liiha Poñtañ and made it his agricultural field.
Wednesday, June 30, 2010
Saturday, June 26, 2010
Monsoon
Monsoon is here again.
When the paddy crops start growing, it used to be time for different varieties of goñchi (dragonflies) to flitter around. The beautiful lañchañ goñchi, agile byago takho, proud yaju piikho and the king of all, the magnificent apañ kemañ. There was then the itu pumiñ, the smallest of all but so light-footed that it was a big challenge to catch any of them, and the dui goñchi with its characteristic black stripe. Jijiñ tayiñ - hordes of them: a swipe of bamboo stick would bring down a dozen of them. Apart from occasional byago takho, none of them can be seen today at Ziro. Some groups of jijiñ tayiñ can still be seen, but they are so much higher up than I can recall.
These days, there are lots of plums. Truckloads of them are being taken down to Itanagar as there is no market at Ziro. It is time somebody start some productive project to tap all such local resources here.
As any monsoon, it is wet. Since the roads are better everywhere, it is pleasant, though.
When the paddy crops start growing, it used to be time for different varieties of goñchi (dragonflies) to flitter around. The beautiful lañchañ goñchi, agile byago takho, proud yaju piikho and the king of all, the magnificent apañ kemañ. There was then the itu pumiñ, the smallest of all but so light-footed that it was a big challenge to catch any of them, and the dui goñchi with its characteristic black stripe. Jijiñ tayiñ - hordes of them: a swipe of bamboo stick would bring down a dozen of them. Apart from occasional byago takho, none of them can be seen today at Ziro. Some groups of jijiñ tayiñ can still be seen, but they are so much higher up than I can recall.
These days, there are lots of plums. Truckloads of them are being taken down to Itanagar as there is no market at Ziro. It is time somebody start some productive project to tap all such local resources here.
As any monsoon, it is wet. Since the roads are better everywhere, it is pleasant, though.
Saturday, June 19, 2010
Tiipe - the Body Art
Tiirii tiipe pa pa
Yapiñ tiipe pa pa
Nyachu piñpu pa pa
Goñpii tiipe pa pa
Pakii giilyu, giilyu, giilyu
The Apatani children used to grow up with the playful voices of their mothers singing this rhyme while mockingly putting tattoo (tiipe) on the face of the child, starting from the forehead (tiirii), nose (yapiñ) and the chin (goñpii) with her finger. Finally, she would tickle the child's chest making her laugh gleefully.
Apart from yapiñ and yaru hullo, tiipe is another form of body arts, practiced by the Apatanis. It was a painful and bloody process as the soot had to be stuck into the skin with thorns. Some children have said to have looked forward to the occasion when their face will be tattooed, but most understandably dreaded it.
Tiipe is becoming history now, but will always remain a characteristic features of the Apatanis.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)