Sunday, Sep 29, 2024 15:00 [IST]
Last Update: Sunday, Sep 29, 2024 09:29 [IST]
Dr. B L Khamdhak hails from a remote hamlet called Sing-pheng-Nambu, Western Sikkim. He is a literary icon and a man of self-discipline and dedication. Dr Khamdhak is Samba (spiritual head), a rightful custodian of the Limbu mundhum, customs and traditions. He is also a prolific poet with profound imaginations. The articles, compositions, research-based analysis which he has hitherto contributed in Limboo language are beautifully framed with phrasal words based on cosmological theory is his unique style. Apart from this, he is highly skilled and artistic, his traditional craft work without any professional training is extremely exceptional.
Dr. B.L. Khamdhak is also the author of a poetry book "Nennera ku-iklaha" in the Limboo language which has been translated into English as "Sister's Voices".
A brief analysis of his poem compilations "Sister's Voices' (2020) ‘ is here:
The compilation, appearing small in volume carries significant meaning, it speaks on the essence of superficial lifestyle, hypocritical views, illusionary dreams, visionless society, crippling morality and physical heroism. Furthermore, the poet narrates the unwanted comparison of power and position, stagnated mindset, the ego and the frustrated mentality. The poet has also sensibly speaks about traditions, culture and preserving fundamental values and ethics. He has tried to synchronize both parochial and modern thinking and put in a single chain.
It is not merely imaginative but thought-provoking philosophical compositions, signifying deep and diversified meaning. It speaks about the undesirable circumstances created in our Society. It is an emotional outburst of the injustice and autocratic decision-making policy and it made him emotionally outraged to jot down this compilation as “Sister’s Voices”. He further exhibits his poetic views to sensitize the youths on the following few topics;
The poet has made clear descriptions of the unheard cries, emotional feelings, gender discrimination, and tremendous hardships being faced by the sister who seeks constructive support from the members of sensible civil society. The poet narrates, "The voices come out from a thatched house, it resounds the villages and the sound is so powerful that it breaks out the clouds. The voice is not simple and small, it is full of strength like thunderbolts and devastating earthquakes. The voice resonates melody and throbbing pain symbolizing Limboo traditional instruments and folk musical songs".
The emotional cries of the sister were heartbreaking which annoyed the poet. Having heard such voices of sister, the poet speaks, "the same society and culture which binds everyone into a single chain with equality and social justice but the sister alone has to take responsibility for household activities like grinding, threshing, sweeping and cleaning why? As a sign of tradition, the ornaments that she has to wear in nose, ear, neck, wrist and ankles are overburdening. She is solely responsible for preserving the culture and name and fame of the family clans". Therefore, again the poet on behalf of the sister, seeks help from the sensible society. "Why should the sole responsibility of preserving the traditions, culture, and costumes lie on sisters alone? The sister’s unheard cries are enormously encountered in agony but who is going to feel sympathy towards her?” The poet clearly understands the Sister's Voices when she seeks support to join the voices together. "She alone can’t take all the loads in terms of costumes and traditions.” Thus on behalf of all female fraternity, emotionally frustrated sister appeals “ to exchange the dowra suruwal with gunueew cholo, khurmee with khukuri and keep all those ornaments in the museum and by doing so, history and culture would be protected". The poet narrates the sister’s voices, with heart touching agony.
Peepal (sacred fig) Tree
The sacred tree which human beings worship and bow down feels pride, forgetting its height and deepness of roots connected to the earth. The tree becomes so egoistic that it overshadows the growth of smaller trees and bushes. The self-esteemed "Peepal" tree feels pride, “I am the most sacred tree with my own sanctity, I am as old as ancient civilization” whereas it encroaches on the land belonging to others. It encompasses the other houses as well as other trees deliberately undermining their growth. In reality, the roots of Peepal are hanging far above the soil. The great ancient tree which mankind regards as sacred is actually not deep rooted on its own but instead it exists with great difficulty taking help from others. This has been ironically illustrated citing examples of the Peepal Tree.
The Bull
A beautiful narration of an untamed, uncastrated bull which is full of strength and ego, displays his heroism indiscriminately. He is overwhelmingly ambitious and aims to touch the sky high by his lump. His horn is everything to do great and inhumane harm to anybody. The physical strength and the pointed horn is his pride, others simply get surprised, no one can fight back. This bull can neither be used for ploughing fields nor it comes for any use. By way of naming the bull in different names by the people. The virtues and the characteristics also resembles as similar to their names and they are (teekhey, jhuley, pangrey, putlley, kaluwa and Lalley), egoistic, envying and hypocrite. The Bull is indiscriminately bullying, harming, injuring others thus, the poet invokes all deities (limboo) to come together and control the untamed, uncastrated bull. He further appeals to tie up with an iron chain and destroy its sinful and evil horns.
The poet further determined to cut down its huff (khur) into pieces which has deliberately crashed down our dreams for a couple of decades and dominated with gross injustice. Now, the poet is more apathetic to encourage the young minds to create a new world, the courageous youths who are determined to write the new history required to fight back with this bull. This bull won't allow our youths to reach their targeted destinations. Now is the right time and right moment to show him / his real shape and strength.
House after my death: imagination
The poet imagines and describes a house after his death; as the old one is running out of use but an antic, completely discoloured by smoke and seen like soot. It was constructed generations ago with all elements available in the world. Many people have contributed to construct the house with their sweat and blood. The house retains the originality, the culture, the tradition, the history and unfortunately all these are being faded. The house retains engraving of precious matters which are absolutely untold and unseen ever before. The house doesn’t belong to one individual but it belongs to the community, it is built by the contributions of many more. Gradually, the size of doors has decreased, heights have been lowered, space has become narrow, feeling suffocated and creating inconvenience. The windows and ventilations are narrowing; it has now become difficult to see the outside world. It finally made us suffocate and a narrow mind covered by the narrow house, needed a New House for this new world. But while reconstructing the house, the scientific and technological support may be borrowed but architectural designers and technicians should be our own. The knowledge and skill may be brought from other places but materials should be indigenous.
The poet emphasizes building a house where we all can sit together for centuries ahead. Thus, it needs a strong foundation invoking all goddesses and the deities and performing ceremonial prayers to protect the house from hail and storm, thunderbolt, and earthquake. Not only this, no landslide, flood, tsunami and volcanoes would damage the house, even though the entire world sinks into devastation. The top roof of the house should touch the sky and that house should be seen from any part of the world. The house should not be visible from outside only but in every part of the world. From the southern to the northern part of the globe and twinkling stars in the sky must be seen. Besides this, the countries of the world, people, rivers and oceans, mountains, hills, forests and every living being should be seen from the house and it should remain forever like a glasshouse Museum. Furthermore, the poet emphasizes that we should seek support from almighty Yumamang to bless us and protect the house. There should not be any unforeseen, unwanted incident and no envying, unnatural death, should occur. Therefore, the poet further mentions to seek all possible strength from deities and affirm to bind the house to protect it from evil thoughts and actions. We need to engage the spiritual heads "phedagba ya" for sculpture and painting, we need to specify the places of almighty goddess "Yuma" and cleaning out the wood-boring beetles (dhamira). Thereafter, the revival of the soul of house "Akwanama" by the spiritual leaders is required to make for its durability. The house should be the real custodian of the diminishing identity of the community, model in the world, a truly defined and earmarked house of Sikkimese soil. The poet exhorts the promising youths to build up which emerges from his imaginations!
My Pen
The poet, who apparently witnesses the injustice, gets frustrated and somehow rejuvenates himself to encourage the young minds and narrates the actual power of the Pen. Knowledge and wisdom alone can-do wonders in the world, it can help anybody either poor and rich, weak and strong, illiterate and literate. Nothing can undermine the capacity of any individual who has sound knowledge and uses his pen as a weapon.
Thus, the poet has composed a poem entitled “My Pen” which speaks explicitly. Pen, irrespective of its shape and size, weakness and strength. vision and visionless, alive and lifeless, the human hand catches and squeezes like a cat crams the rat at his neck. No shape and size can be compared with sharpness of any weapons nor its history can be compared with cosmological wisdoms. My pen originated as most powerful like burning flames of volcanoes from the most dreaded hardships and difficult situations. The pen is exclusively meant to advocate for the truth and expose the fiction, fabrication and injustice. It resounds with the unheard facts, hunts for the lost values. People may catch hold of my neck and be restricted from speaking the truth but my pen is determined to expose the truth.
My pen writes life history and imaginations, fictions and myths, social evils and ethics, customs and culture, traditions. It writes epics, great epics, guides, roadmaps, Limboo social ethos. It dares to write without fear and favour, it stands fighting injustice consistently because my pen emerged from suppression and hardships. My pen thus, doesn't get frustrated nor runs away with fear and remains as inferior. But always stands boldly rejuvenated, vehemently stable, against injustice and inequality. It fights against the autocratic dictum and dictatorial attitude, it goes through generation to generation. My pen fearlessly determines to fight against suppression. My pen is not useless, it is absolutely fearless, endless and thus, the poet exhorts youngsters to make use of powerful pens and exhibit the real strength, the poet emphasizes.
The poet here emphasizes the power and strength of wisdom through pen and encourages the youngsters to be equally strong enough to face the challenges.
The poet sometime becomes quite obsessive with the undesirable situations and becomes totally frustrated and intends to die to see the faces of the hypocrite, greedy, suppressive, selfish and unruly people in heaven or hell. Poet dreams and gets terribly frustrated to the extent that he wants to see their conditions after death. Thus, he narrates "I am dead, take my dead body urgently to the graveyard, as I need to take the next birth. Console my soul by saying, "May sun take its own son, may moon take its own son (as limboo believe we are the sons and daughters of sun and the moon) "bid adieu with sword (mudemphey) and let me take my own way. Take out my dead body from the corpse and put over the pyre so that along with the burning flame of the fire I can reach heaven. Take my dead body and bury it in the ground so that along with soil I can reach hell. Because this materialistic world is filled up with sin, greed, ego, hatred, envy and pride, which is not fit for me. I can't live as a rudely selfish and lifeless human being. It doesn't suit me to live on this earth. I am not fit to live as a betrayal and selfish who doesn't have heart and humanity to share with others. I can't justify my living here in this most hypocritical and egoistic world."
"Therefore, if I can reach heaven or hell, I wish to see the faces of all such greedy, egoistic, selfish and hypocrites", the poet desperately explains.
This compilation can definitely attract the Scholar and deep-thinking readers. It is aimed to illustrate the significance of Limboo culture, traditions, customs and up-root parochial thinking and it surreptitiously hinted at the oppressive and discriminatory attitude of erstwhile government. The poet has mentioned different topics like Sister's Voices, Peepal Tree, The Bull, House after death, My pen and Dead Body. The unwanted manipulations, emotional blackmailing, injustice and inequality, and corrupt mindset are the focussed points that the poet intends to throw light for the esteemed readers.
