let the tear drops fall,
drench my pain,
and lift me in your fold ;
teach me to rise again,
should I ever fall,
and find my way,
against the torrent strong.
The hearth is the heart of the family. This was true of every Meitei household that was generally a large joint family comprising of the ‘Edhou’ (Grandfather) “Eben’ or ‘Abok’ (Grandmother), Pabung (Father), Palem/Ema (mother), Khura (Uncles), Endomcha (Aunties), Eteima/Enamma (Sister-in-law), Echin enao (brothers, sisters and cousins) and sometimes even the next generation of offsprings. This was so for every household not too long ago, a few generations earlier really, before the onset of the nuclear families. The large family had a generously spacious kitchen to accommodate the multitude of members at one end of the room where all the members would gather around as dusk fell, waiting for the food which was being prepared at the sanctum of the kitchen on the other end. The hearth is lit with firewood and while the food was being cooked, the members of the family, who are gathered around a fire, engage in chit chat and sometimes the elders would enthrall the rest of the family with wonderful stories and legendary folklore. Thus came the coinage ‘Phunga Waari‘ which literally translates as ‘Fireplace stories‘. This was a very simple and yet profoundly significant activity of everyday family life. Needless to say it forged the family bonds stronger and played an important role in the inculcation of family values, traditional norms and social mores that constituted the fabric of the Meitei society which was highly cultured as compared to the present. Today, the families are fractured, the kitchen has gone modular, the fireplace has disappeared for good and so has the ‘Phunga Waari’. Perhaps this could be one of the attributing factors to the disintegrating social fabric of the ‘Meitei society’ and the disappearing values and practices that was once the epitome of the ‘Manipuri civilisation’. It is good old times gone for good.
NB: The painting is a depiction of the ‘Phunga Waari’ in a typical Meitei kitchen that once existed but is now almost non existent. The items like ‘Phou Shumban’ (for pounding rice) seen behind the old man and ‘Hidak pu’ (smoking pipe) can no more be seen in present times. The attires depicted in the pictures are also clothes that are worn in a typical Meitei household.
I am the dancer
and I am the drummer,
I dance to my beats,
a rhythm like none other.
I make melodies,
from gentle tap on leather tautly strung,
while my feet leaps like the flight of Hermes.
Sometimes with beats far and between
I sing a soulful song;
the silence in between,
even sings its own tune.
And at times, like beats of hundred drums,
a sudden flight of ecstasy;
like a rush of thousand hooves,
bursting forth in symphony.
I drum in ardour,
devotion the soul of my endeavour,
and I dance in fervour
elation in the worship of the saviour.
– Mo Irom
‘Pung’ in Manipuri stands for the percussion instrument otherwise commonly known as ‘Drum’. Pung is said to have been first used in Manipur around 2nd Century AD during the times of its early rulers which used it as ‘Yaibungs’ mainly to announce the King’s proclamation, sound alarms at times of invasions or summon people at times of emergencies. Slowly it came to be used as a percussion instrument to accompany merriment like songs and dances. Many years of refinement later, ‘Pung Cholom’, the playing of the percussion in Manipuri Sankritana music, came to be an indispensable part of the Meitei culture and traditions.
With the embracing of Hinduism by the rulers of the kingdom of Manipur in the beginning of 18th century AD and the accordance of royal sanction to the Chaitanya school of vaishnavism at the time of Maharaj Bhagyachandra, the use of ‘Mridang’ as a percussion instrument came to be popularised in the singing of Kirtans, a form of devotional singing in praise of lord Krishna which originally was started by a Vaishnavite saint from Bengal named Chaitanya or Gouranga Mahaprabhu. In Manipuri Sankirtana the ‘Meitei Pung’ which is a variant of the ‘Mridanga’ came to be used. Unlike the ‘Mridanga’, which originally is a terracotta percussion instrument the body of which is made from mud thus giving it its name “Mridanga” from the Sanskrit words ‘Mrit’ for mud and “Anga’ meaning body, the Meitei pung however is made from wood with two drum heads/faces of differing sizes, one small (Manao) on the right and the other somewhat bigger called ‘Maru’ on the left, the combination of which gives it its distinctive sounds. The instrument is accorded a very revered status in Meitei’s traditional customs, even worshiped, equated with the body of Lord Vishnu during ceremonies and always seen wrapped finely in a thin white cloth as if being dressed. The playing of the instrument ‘Pung Cholom’ is a highly skilled and developed art that is indigenous to Manipur and with no comparison or likeness to its art form anywhere in the world. It is showcased and highly acclaimed all over the globe as part of the Manipuri Classical music and dance.
The ‘Pung cholom’ which generally precedes the singing of the kirtan is a fabulous and enchanting rendering of the instrument with variations in the tempo of the beats ranging from the slow and interrupted rhythm that creates a soulful melody to an energetic and spirited beats climaxing to an explosive rhythm, all the while accompanied by a matching display of fluid and graceful body movements that has been ingenuously incorporated from Manipur’s famed martial art form ‘Thang Ta’ and ‘Sarit sarak’. Highly acrobatic and artistic, the Pung Cholom is an exquisite and quite a breathtaking presentation.
My first oil on canvas after picking up the brush again after nearly 3 decades !!!
I used to love to sketch and paint when I was a little kid. I’d always be sketching something on the back of the notebook when the teacher was busy teaching in the class. I’d draw caricatures of my teachers and classmates while they were busy working on the classwork. I’d be busy drawing cowboys when Mama was not looking when she made us do our homework.It was just something I was fond of doing, something that was just so much more enjoyable than struggling with your classwork or homework. I drew so many paintings that there wasn’t enough space to put it up or store it. Dad eventually used most of it to cover the holes and spaces in the attic and store-room. Then it just happened, I stopped painting completely. Perhaps it was life’s circumstances or I was drawn to other things, I quite don’t have an explanation. I just gave up the one thing that I loved doing. But I never got over it completely. I was always drawn to the beauty of things and I’d capture it in my mind like I was putting it on canvas. I yearned to play with the paints again but life became too grueling to even think of picking up the brush again. It was just too tedious a hobby to keep, I just couldn’t find the time or the resolve to pick it up again. So I turned to photography a few years ago when digital cameras made it possible to satiate your creative urges without having to take too much trouble or the time. I enjoyed it immensely. But along the way it just brought me more closure to my old love. No doubt I loved capturing the beauty at the press of a button but it was never quite like creating the beauty with your own hands on a blank space, filling it up little by little, piece by piece, stroke by stroke as the white canvas in front of you slowly morphs into the picture that is there in your mind, just like those Polaroid pictures in the olden days which slowly emerges as you vigorously shake the picture card. It is an exhilarating process. But the question remained, would I be able to find the time to meticulously go through the process? would i still have the knack for it after all these years? Well I just had to find out when I saw the easel in a shop a few days ago. I picked up the easel for my daughters who also seem to have picked up my genes for love of paints and bought a canvas or two for myself. And here it is ! And there I was! back to being the little boy who just loves the way the brush strokes the canvas! Like they say, nothing is ever like the first love 🙂