What happens when the imaginary world of mythical creatures collides with the real world of colonial rule?
This is the premise of Hannah Lalhlanpuii’s recent novel, Postcard from the Lushai Brigade. It is part of the Songs of Freedom series and is published by Duckbill Books. Set in the lush locales of Lushai Hills (present Mizoram) in the pre-independence era, it is a coming-of-age tale of a Mizo kid.
The World of Lushai Hills
Bawiha is the protagonist who grows up in the comforting cocoon of his home with his mother, Api (grandmother), and brother (Kima). Life goes on simply and beautifully for Bawiha as he experiences the world around him with wide-eyed wonder. Playing with his brother, concocting stories and images of imaginary beings, and listening to Api’s stories forms his small world. However, this idyllic world changes as British colonialism takes a stronghold and the Second World War intensifies. A series of events changes Bawiha’s world forever and makes him come face to face with the cruel realities of life.
In her second offering, the young author from Aizawl litters the Lushai world with wonderful characters. There’s dreamy Bawiha, the young observer through whose eyes we witness the world. There’s courageous Kima, an epitome of sensitivity, wisdom, and quiet strength. There’s Api, her old-world charm, and her hatred for the British. There are diabolical Mr. and Mrs. McCall with their colonial entitlement and disdain. Apart from these, there are a handful of heartwarming Mizo characters and their adorable idiosyncrasies.
Of Forgotten Childhoods and Histories
Hannah’s prose makes the pristine world of childhood wonder come alive. A world where fantastical creatures such as Lalruanga and Khawmu Chawi reside. A world where Bawiha and his brother Kima spend their days watching the water flow in the ravine and playing in mock fights with each other. A world where Api’s sack of stories never runs out as she recounts historical anecdotes, awe-inspiring myths, and rich traditions.
The wonderful thing about the world Hannah paints is that it is rooted in history, heritage, and identity. The story takes place between 1942 and 1944 in Mizoram. The British (colloquially known as saps) play their usual divide-and-rule policy with the local chiefs and inhabitants. They also employ the same local inhabitants in their plush bungalows and the young men in the Lushai Brigade (part of the British Indian army during World War II). The war with the Japanese forces is ongoing.
The Cruel Yoke of Colonialism
Before the British, the locals lived a quiet life in the hills. They had local festivals like the arkaiden zan or the full moon night: a night of feasts, songs, and celebration. Life was slow but gossip travelled fast and lingered on for days. People were happy and content. They kept themselves busy with weaving, cooking, and farming.
The white colonialists arrive and shatter the serenity of the local people’s lives. The quiet solitude of the mountains is replaced by the aggressive laughter of English soldiers. The peaceful harmony of the hill town is enveloped with the cantankerous cacophony of war speeches and tanks. New medicines, gadgets, and ways of life eclipse the traditional ones.
Hannah’s observant eyes notice all these changes and depict them beautifully such that you are left with a pang in the heart for a nostalgic world that slowly gets eroded by the modern. Her prose blissfully records the transitions that make Bawiha finally grow up and become a man.
The subtle nuances of colonialism don’t miss Hannah’s watchful eye. The hinted racism, the concepts of slavery and non-violence, and the vested interests all erupt in some way or the other in the story. Bawiha’s encounters with Mr. and Mrs. McCall and other English officers and his eventual journey from admiration to suspicion are incisive in their portrayal of colonial exploitation and changing loyalties.
Nature, Identity, and Empathy
The natural world finds a voice in Hannah’s memorable tale. We see Mizo animism thrive through a string of imaginary characters from folks and myths. The trees, the stars, the forest, and the river emerge as eternal guardians who enrich the world with their wisdom. Even the characters reinforce this belief in nature’s agency with their worldviews. The mood of the story also gets reflected in the many forms of the natural world.
Api’s character stands out for being a resolute crusader of the Mizo identity. Her acute distrust towards the English and their modern ways unearths her powerful intuition. She also recounts heroic tales of former Mizo chiefs, instilling young Bawiha with pride in his Mizo identity. She also bashes opportunistic myths such as the headhunter one with firm confidence.
Hannah’s writing is replete with compassion and sensitivity. For example, when shy Bawiha gets bullied, Kima stands up and offers unwavering support to him. Both Bawiha’s mother and grandmother stand by Kima’s affection for a girl despite their apprehensions. When Kima explains the power of non-violence to Bawiha, it’s possible to move to tears. Hannah ensures the moral compass of the story is in the right place, which makes the novel a healing read for the mind and the heart.
A Moral Compass for Children
Writing for children is a conscious choice for Hannah. As she recounts in an interview, “One of the main reasons I write is to tell the story of the voiceless, the neglected, and the suppressed. I believe that children, especially in the context of war and conflict, are always the most affected victims yet they are the ones who never have the medium and opportunity to tell their story. This is why my stories revolve around children’s characters.”
In a world that’s rife with blurred lines between right and wrong, Postcard from the Lushai Brigade reinforces our belief in the right, that too with grace. The values it communicates by being sensitive to marginal voices, disappearing heritage, and disintegrating natural ecosystems can empower young readers. The remarkable balance between the imaginary and the real will help any emerging reader to develop a sense of context and understanding of the world. Growing up in a world riddled with violence and retaining one’s vulnerability and sensitivity is what the book teaches readers. Finally, the straightforward prose is almost like a ‘song for the eyes’—one that young readers can relate to.
I guess a perfect way to finish will be with one of Api’s songs:
In our homes swayed by the mountain breeze
Where the birds roam and the flowers bloom
From across the sea came the men with blue eyes.
In our home swayed by the mountain breeze
Bells begin to toll with the cry for war.
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