Culture
Ka Ram-ew: A Khasi Folktale about Mother Earth
Current Updates | Culture | Philip Lyngdoh | 14-Feb-2021
On the 24th of May 2015, Holy Father, Pope Francis, gave to us and the world his epic encyclical, "Laudato Si՛, mi Signore՛" - "Praise be to you, my Lord". Those were actually words from the Canticle of the Creatures of St. Francis of Assisi where the gentle Saint reminds us that the earth is our common home, "a sister with whom we share our life and a beautiful mother who opens her arms to embrace us". So sings St. Francis, "Praise be to you, my Lord, through our Sister, Mother Earth, who sustains and governs us, and who produces various fruit with coloured flowers and herbs". Pope Francis, in the opening lines of the encyclical, laments that this sister "cries out to us because of the harm we have inflicted on her ... she groans in travail ... because we have forgotten that we ourselves are dust of the earth; our bodies made up of her elements, we breathe her air and we receive life and refreshment from her waters".
The Pope's concern has definitely brought to the fore the predicament we are in today with regard to the decline of the earth's sustainability, all because of reckless human interference. But ancient societies also have always shown such concern and in turn reverence for Nature, unlike us, the so-called modern, advanced humans. Different cultures have different tales about our common home – the earth. This Khasi folklore too explains, in its own way, why the earth is as it is ... why the crust is strewn with rocks, sand and mud. Why there are rivers, gorges, lakes, seas, and tides. Why beneath the surface, metals and ores abound ... why the volcanoes spew out fire … Let's listen to this fascinating story. It may be only a tale but it speaks of a turmoil that’s as old as human society itself. If the mayhem continues unbridled, the havoc that will entail will hasten the earth’s demise.
The Khasis call Mother Earth "Ka Mei Ram-ew". Their ancestors respected her much more than we do today. They also never failed to sing paeans to her even as they'd never do anything that will disrupt the order of nature! But it wasn't so at the beginning of the world as this story tells: Long, long ago, there was nothing on earth. Then God, the Creator, placed upon it Ka Ram-ew and her husband, U Basa. The two lived a happy life in the beginning. They had everything and lacked nothing, or so it seemed. But later on, their lives became a drudge. There were neither days nor nights nor colour nor variety. They had no one to talk to but themselves. Truly, life for the pair was one long, dreary roll. An immense void filled the earth and the sky above them. The pair was extremely unhappy and wished for the company of children with all their hearts. And so they pleaded the Creator to give them children. They would raise them up, play with them, and teach them to run the affairs of the world. They would bestow their legacy upon them and their kind would multiply and prosper.
For several days and week, they entreated God thus. At last, he heard their prayers and granted their wish. He gave them five children whom they named: Ka Sngi (the sun), U Bnai (the moon), Ka Lyer (the wind), Ka Um (water), and Ka Ding (fire). Ka Sngi was ‘ka khun phrangsngi’, the first-born, the child who saw the world first. U Bnai was their only son. He accompanied Ka Ramew wherever she went, even today. The middle children, Ka Lyer and Ka Um were the wayward ones. They roamed the earth, blew across the heavens, inundated the plains and filled the seas. Ka Ding was ‘ka khun khlieng kpoh’, the last child, the cleanser of her mother’s womb. She was also ‘ka khadduh’, the youngest daughter, who was to be forever the custodian of the ‘nongkynti’ or legacy of her parents. It would be her duty to be the caregiver to her parents in their old age and the conserver of her clan. Till today, ka khadduh plays that role in the Khasi matrilineal society. And so, with the siblings’ arrival life on earth sparkled with variety. Sunshine, air and rain caressed the parched earth, and plants and animals began to thrive and multiply. The earth was no longer the desolate place it was before. It grew green and abounded with an amazing variety of life forms and non-life forms. Ka Ramew and U Basa watched with pride as their children grew in stature and wisdom. They marveled at the beautiful transformation their arrival brought the earth. The proud parents doted on them and gave them everything they wanted.
As the siblings became older, their characters became more set and they also started displaying wayward behaviour. Although they performed their duties as nature had allotted them, they often fought among themselves. They bickered constantly, even coming to blows that caused widespread destruction and misery. This conduct caused so much anguish to the parents, especially Ka Ram-ew, who took much of it to heart. The children's constant squabbling affected Ka Ram-ew deeply. It pained her so to see the enmity they reserved for each other, clawing and fighting with no thought of the consequences. Their greed and jealousy knew no bounds and they caused immense damage everywhere. The hurt showed in the furrows on her surface, the deep gashes where canyons cut and high mountain peaks jut out. Her bowels burned and rumbled, shook the earth in spasms of earthquakes. Now and then fire and ash spew out from ‘ki lumding’ (volcanoes).
Sometimes boulders strew everywhere along the path of Ka Um. Holes and caves pockmarked Ka Ram-ew’s surface where she seeped, playing hide and seek. Ka Lyer denuded the mountain faces while Ka Sngi’s relentless battering made pebbles out of massive rocks! U Bnai might seem placid but he caused huge tidal waves. Ka Ding would destroy everything in a fit of anger! One day U Bnai cut his sister Ka Sngi with a sword that made her bleed profusely leading to the solar eclipse. Immediately Ka Lyer rushed to report what happened to their mother while Ka Um remained to tend to the injured Ka Sngi. That was the last straw for Ka Ram-ew. She had grown very old and infirm and this news saddened her even more. Her children's constant fights and maulings caused her to age faster and this time, when there was letting of blood, her poor old heart couldn't take the burden anymore and she collapsed. Still, Ka Ram-ew gave Ka Lyer the healing plants which she had always nurtured in her bosom. And then she died broken-hearted.
Her children’s wantonness hastened her end. After her death, the earth wore a desolate look. The forests and waters dried up. Where there were fertile lands deserts crept and gobbled them up. Life on earth came to a complete standstill. In that scenario, Ka Ram-ew’s children and the clans-people all gathered in mourning and prepared for the funeral. They made the elaborate ‘krong’, the bamboo frame to lay the dead body on. Around the krong, they wrapped all finery of silk and brocade as befitting to nobility. A few went to the cremation ground to prepare the pyre. At home, the clan elder did the rituals for the dead as prescribed in the rite of safe passage of the soul to the other world. Meanwhile, mourners sang their sombre dirges that brought tears to everyone’s eyes. Finally, the mourners trooped in procession to the burning ground and there, on the unlit pyre, they rested Ka Ram-ew’s mortal remains. It was already evening and the sun was going down. As the eldest daughter, it was Ka Sngi’s duty to light her mother’s pyre. But, by that time, her powers had weakened and she could not ignite it. U Bnai, the only son, tried next. But he had neither the heat nor the power. He failed to create even a small spark.
Likewise, Ka Lyer was too flighty and Ka Um was too damp. They both were unsuccessful at lighting up. Finally, it fell upon Ka Ding, the youngest daughter, to light the pyre. She easily sparked a fire and sent the pyre bursting into flames. In a very short time, Ka Ramew’s body burnt to ashes and returned to dust where she belonged. Only her bones were collected to rest in the ‘mawbah’, the clan’s ossuary. Ka Ding only lighted the pyre after her elder siblings had failed. You'd think they appreciated a job well done. But no! They burned with envy at her because they thought she had taken away the honour that belonged to them. They soon began to hound her everywhere to snuff her life out. Ka Ding had to run and hide to escape the wrath of her sisters and brother. But still, they never gave up hunting for the flames. Ka Sngi hammered on, melted the snows and parched the earth. U Bnai pulled at the waters and shook the seas. Ka Lyer thrashed about everywhere, created havoc and destruction in her wake. Ka Um splashed about at random, cutting valleys and flooding the plains.
They caused such devastation as was never before seen! Poor Ka Ding! She hid in nooks and crevices, buried herself inside rocks and metals just so her siblings don't find her. Till today the fight goes on! And so, even now and then you will find sparks of fire coming out when you strike stones together or rub metals or wood, or whenever you create friction. That's because Ka Ding's still in hiding in those places! And the saga doesn’t end … So, as we listen to this story, don’t we wonder what the ancient Khasi storytellers were trying to teach us? Yes, the geography of the earth owes much to the natural forces. However, if our fragile Mei Ram-ew is dying today it is because of the unabated rapacity of her wanton children, us human beings! The destruction still continues but we are still bickering and fighting. It’s time we realise and stop causing hurting Ka Mei Ram-ew, mother earth, the only home we have! It is so apt that Pope Francis would end his encyclical with the payer of praise to the Triune Lord that we may be seized with His power and light ... for the coming of His Kingdom of justice, peace, love, and beauty.
(The Author is a retired Sr. Asst. General Manager of Air India. He can be reached on philip.lyngdoh@gmail.com. Story narrated is from his personal knowledge)
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