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Tears are hard to stop; even more difficult to watch them stream down her cherry red cheeks. Love is a funny thing; you don’t choose it – rather, it imposes itself upon you. The human heart is designed to circulate life-giving blood throughout our fragile bodies; it cannot cushion so many emotions. Tears are hard to stop, as I helplessly watch them pour down her cheeks again…

God does not make mistakes. It only takes time for His creations to accept His blueprint for our lives. I believe God was perfectly satisfied when He decided that I should be a Mizo. I was born into a middle-class Mizo family in Aizawl, and was brought up with typical Mizo values and mindset. I love my people and my land, and I have no qualms in proclaiming that we are His chosen people.

Her hands are still warm, but I’m not sure if her heart still is. The last teardrop is slowly running down those soft cheeks, as I watch with mixed emotions. I never intended to fall in love, but apparently Cupid thought otherwise. I’ve seen a woman’s tears before, and am fully aware how false and poisonous it can be. But it’s different this time, and a silent war rages on inside.

She never really liked my people, let alone my land. I’d go on and on about Mizoram, and she would fake interest just out of courtesy. I saw it all in her big, beautiful eyes. But I don’t blame her, ‘cause I had also done the same thing – listened to her culture and her ways, never once betraying my utter indifference. God does not make mistakes. But surely He’ll forgive me, for I’ve used up all the love that I have for my nation – the Mizo nation. It might sound harsh, but there just isn’t any more space for an alien nation.

The last teardrop dries, as she holds me tighter. And ever so gently she says, “But I love you,” and the raging war inside intensifies. My heart wants to console her, and tell her that nothing will ever tear us apart as long as God gives us breath! But my head does not concur, and there’s a good reason why the brain is placed above the heart. A prickling conscience is not necessarily bad, but it can be annoying sometimes – especially if it tells you to let go of someone you’ve grown to love deeply.

As is common for a Mizo child, I grew up disliking non-Mizos in general, and mainland Indians in particular. I had my reasons too, such as the fact that the Indian Government used its air force against us – her own citizens. Horrible tales of Khawkhawm, and numerous other atrocities including brutal rapes committed by the Indian Army, enraged me no less than any other true-blood Mizo. Inevitably, my patriotism was for Mizoram, and not India. As the comment goes, “I am a Mizo first, and an Indian second.” It suffices to say that I was brought up in the safe ambience of a regional nationalism flaunting Mizo chauvinism.

I feel her long, dark hair against my face. Her eyes meet mine, and they’re still as big and beautiful as ever. Here I am, still holding her hand, as she awaits my response. Love is a funny thing, and frankly I never really understood it. I began our relationship with the blind optimism that I’d slowly pull her into my society. It is only now that I’ve realized there is something called “reality” above and beyond our dreams, hopes, and even love.

God has been kind enough to provide me with a few platforms from where I have preached to a number of people about Mizo ideals, norms and tradition. I’ve always harboured plans to revive Mizo nationalism, and give it a new lease of life. I have time and again preached about the possibility and dangers of assimilation. As such, it naturally follows that I was amongst the most vocal against inter-marriage with non-Mizos, and strongly felt that this was a betrayal upon the Mizo nation. I could talk the talk, but it was now to be seen if I could walk the talk. Any other way and I would be branded a “hypocrite”.

Tears are hard to stop; as they slowly run down my cheeks, a mixed sense of grief and relief engulfs me. I let go of her hand slowly, but surely. I get lost in her eyes for one last time; those big, beautiful eyes. “I love you too, but I love my people more.”

She has to go.

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This entry was posted on Thursday, June 13th, 2013 at 3:01 pm and is filed under Luangliam, Mizo Society & Culture, More than words. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.