Giants

 

“The village—Ayito-phu—was located on the top western flanks of a mountain, a strategic choice that had made it virtually unassailable during the old days of headhunting. If one were to be completely factual, the days of headhunting were neither old nor gone, for in the areas that bordered Burma there were still tribes who took great delight in lopping off heads and stacking skulls like the macabre hoard of some unknown devil.”

It is in this village, far away from Kohima that our protagonist, a 12 yr old boy named Kato lives with his parents who till the land and labour hard. Kato’s mother, maternal grandmother, even his father at times, regale him with stories - of an uncle who saw a big giant in the forest, of Alhou who created the whole world and different spirits to guard different realms, of rivers that had a will of their own. Kato consumed these stories hungrily, remembered them but could not tell them to others for he was mute. What happens when a timi-ala (a forest giant) named Kene visits Kato on full moon nights, gifts him a voice for the night when they are together, tells him stories and convinces him that he is born to tell stories and save his clan?

‘The land is the oldest and it is very much alive. It is the land that sustains everything that lives.’

But, what when this very land is under the threat of a face-off between the British soldiers and Imperial Japanese army? For a people who had nothing to do with WW2 and were in awe of the simple rifle, the bombs, cannons, roaring fighter planes and endless machine guns sounded like the end of the world itself. How could a young, mute boy tell stories to avert disaster, save his clan and his land that now reeked of the smell of metal and blood? Read Giants by Huthuka Sumi to get the answers. 

Even though the story doesn’t offer crisp and straightforward answers, even when magic is overpowering, even confusing at places that the reality slips away, Giants offers an intimate and authentic portrayal of the way of life of people, the Sumis, a major ethnic group native to Nagaland. The clan’s reverence for nature and the land they live upon, their faith in traditions, skepticism to anything modern that may alter a natural order shine in the narrative that meanders, strays and moves languidly. Pork cooked in axone paste has an unmatched flavour, aqhumi, a shawl woven in a certain way has a special social status, description of farming seasons and tiger hunt, there is a lot to learn from Kato’s tale suffused with magic filled with spirits and witches that guard or abduct people. 

‘Memories are roots’.  Without stories we have no memories and without memories our roots shrivel and die'. The crux of the book - that stories on who we are, where we come need to be told and retold lest we forget our history or identity - though beautiful isn’t delivered in a crisp and convincing fashion, the storytelling never gathers steam and fails to deliver an impression. The illustrations by Canato Jimo are mere motifs alongside the chapters' titles, they don't supplement the storytelling or add detailing.  It is the portrayal of emotions that hold the fort - loyal friendship, love, loss, grief, guilt, shame, hope, standing tall with confidence and self-acceptance and redemption populate the book. Tighter editing could have cut it short by at least 50 pages and saved the read for us. Overall, a good read!