Going Back to my Roots

Today I went back to my roots. My family drove to Chungliyimti to visit Longtrok. Longtrok is where, many say, the Aos come from. Longtrok translates to ‘six stones’ and it has been told that the Aos came from these six stones. Stories say that these six stones were three couple stones and they are considered as the ancestors of the Aos.

The Longtrok Site

We had never been to Chungliyimti but early this morning, we packed our lunch in two pretty flower printed hot cases and started off on our journey. The roads were not in the best condition but we made our way to Chare Town. There, we stopped to ask for directions because Dad was not confident about the way after Chare. Last night, Dad had wondered out aloud whether we would find someone to help us around the place. Dad stepped out of the car and went to ask for directions. He came back with a guy who was going the same way we were, and he offered to come with us till Chungliyimti. Me, being the nut I am, joked about how it was fate and that maybe the guy might have seen this happen in his dreams last night. In reality however, it was Dad’s wish from last night being granted.

On the way, we stopped at his parents’ place. We met his parents; his father seemed like a simple humble man. He, very sweetly, offered us water and asked us to drop by on the way back. When we reached Chungliyimti, we stopped at a man’s place because the man who had the keys had gone off hunting. The people there offered us water, and later tea, and spoke to us about the history of the place. While I sat there listening to them, I saw three teenagers put up Christmas lights and decorations, while two dogs walked around them giving them company. I could not help but feel drawn to the aura of comfort and ease the village gave out; the people looked happy and content with what they had and where they were.

Longtrok; the six stones.

A pile of stones next to Longtrok

One of the men managed to get the keys to the gate at the Longtrok site and as we walked about five minutes to the site, I felt a gush of excitement kick through me. The stones were under a big tree; two of the stones looked like they were coming out from under the bark of the tree where the roots held to the ground. They said that all the six stones stood that way, protruding out of the roots, earlier but had fallen with age. A stump was left remaining next to the big tree, where another tree stood — lightning had struck the tree and it had fallen.  Next to the tree and the six rocks, there was another pile of rocks and a shape on the bigger rock reminded me of female genitalia — of birth and new beginnings.

Rocky slope where there are visible foot marks, supposedly
of our ancestors.

They also took us to a rocky slope where people believe our ancestors had once walked on. We could see, on the slope, crevices well shaped into rounded foot marks and steps owing to the toil of daily labour. The people there today no longer walk through that area but the history of our ancestors’ path remained there in the form of well-shaped footsteps on the now mossy rocks. As I stood there, I somehow felt a connection to the past — like a part of history.

Visible foot marks on the mossy slope

On our way back, we stopped at the same house as promised and we were offered tea and sun dried bananas. They were so welcoming and we sat there chatting about our family, their family and our trip to Longtrok. We were even given gifts — two bottles of fruit juice — by the generous, hospitable family. We thanked then and bade them goodbye, with hopes that we would see them again someday.

I cannot say and prove that this story of the origin of the Aos from Longtrok is true. I cannot totally say that I firmly and wholly believe in it as well. What I do believe in are the people that I met today — I believe in people. It is true that we all need something tangible to believe in; something palpable like the six stones and the foot marks on the rocks. For me, though, human beings give me faith. It is also true that the sense of the, for lack of a better, supernatural, is not brought about when it comes to mortal beings like us. But today, I saw the mystic and the heavenly in the hospitality of the people we met today. I saw faith and fate in the little village that held onto their roots and onto the goodness of communal richness. It might have hit me hard because I have just returned from an unfamiliar Delhi after almost a year, but the warmth of the people, the series of hospitable events and the comfort with which they welcomed us left me touched. Today, I went back to my roots; my roots of hospitality, of social harmony and rich social and cultural history.