Hymnals

I was Chapel-in-charge as a 17 year old. This little bit of my history often comes as a surprise to some people who knew me only after I have attained my full-grown adult height that I am very bible-oriented and very spiritual. Not that I have changed overmuch (I mean I have but yk) but some people stereotype more than necessary. I am not very religious though and that has only fermented over time so I engage less and less with organized church as I get older. That is very true. But it is also true that my deep respect for the spiritual remains and in fact, has kept getting strengthened. Into what, is perhaps debatable.

When I was 17, though, through no fault of my own, I was expected to lead worship. So I learned guitar so I could lead song service. And also once in a while, I gave small sermons. I would sometimes make my own. Sometimes I would recall some other sermons I’d listened to, and regurgitate them. 

I did my duty even though I did not truly enjoy it. I do not think I am cut out to be a spiritual leader. I can see myself as a cult leader before a church leader. I feel I have the potential to devolve fast into that role as opposed to being an upstanding, mentally well-regulated, cool-headed non-sword-yielding church youth leader.

In any case, Chapel was every evening at 6 in our hostel. We attended it in our PJs. But on Sundays, we’d attend church service in an empty classroom at Ryan International School in Delhi’s Vasant Kunj. I believe ours was a Methodist church. The pastor was our Dean’s husband. He lived in her quarters in our girls’ hostel. We could have had our entire church services inside the confines of our girls’ hostel. But no. Come blistering heat or freezing cold of Delhi’s temperamental climate, and the general poor AQI of the Capital, they’d ship us out in a big yellow bus in “church clothes”. I still think it was stupid.

Possibly more performative and ceremonial than real service. Who knows.

I had nothing to do with the Methodist church, but because I was Chapel-in-charge in the hostel where the pastor resided, I was also sometimes assigned some roles in his Sunday Service. One of them was always to pass the Hymnals out before service. These Hymnals were the low-quality blue plastic covers variety. I was never alone for these duties though. Some of the girls were always Christian and nice about Service Labour. So they’d help out. We’d take the hymnals out from somewhere (dear lord, I can’t even remember from where!) and place them on every chair set out for the service. Then, after Service, we’d simply collect them again. You only ever needed to bring a Bible with you to church, if you were so inclined.

Something similar operated in the Seventh-day Adventist church I attended for three years in Roorkee. Daily morning service, daily evening service, Friday evening vespers, Sabbath School and I think two other services the same day… oh dear god, the sheer volume of services! You know, come to think of it, after graduating from high school, I’ve never attended youth service again. That aside, even in SDA service, we didn’t need to own a hymnal. 

On Sabbath services and the more churchy services, we had the Hymnals. Someone would have passed them around before church. The deacons, maybe. I always liked the feel of the hardbound maroon leather (rexin?) cover with the staff notation and the words so neatly typed in no-nonsense font on buttery paper. I liked those Hymnals. On other regular services, Mrs. Susan Chand would use a projector to guide us through the songs, electronically screening the lyrics directly on the vast yellow wall on the side of the main stage area. No hymnal required.

I say all this because my Church has come up with a new Hymnal. A revision of the old whose new edition has included Additions, and a resultant change in numbering.

I will have to buy it. You can argue with me till you are blue in the face that I am not obligated to. But you and I both know I will. It’s like tithe or offering. I am not obligated to give but I will. Not doing so would earn me Censure, as we might call it in Sociology. Not to mention create an avoidable inconvenience from using an Edition that doesn’t match what everyone else is carrying. Judging from my monthly salary, I can afford it. But I hate waste and I hate that my perfectly good Hymnal will now essentially be redundant in a few months. It will collect dust in some corner of my house. I don’t think I’ve turned all the pages. I don’t think my church has sung all the songs in it. We do have our favourite numbers.

Far be it from me to criticize church, but I just think it is wasteful. And lowkey burdensome on people who make less money than I do. (Again, far be it from me to suggest to people how to spend their own money). I simply can’t help thinking how wonderful it would be if churches just bought a shit ton of these Hymnals every time a new edition comes out and handed them out in church like we used to do it in Delhi and Roorkee. And have the few zealously devoted members buy their own copies, no issues. But the hymnals! 

(Sigh)

Driving

Driving is not very hard. 

You check your rear- and side-view mirrors properly, check that your hand brake is released, then put the keys in ignition; or push Start in the newer models. On a manual stick drive, you then press the clutch down, ideally move your gear into 1st, then release the clutch as you press down on the accelerator and off you go. If you want to go faster, you use smaller gears, and vice versa. You turn the steering wheel on the direction you want to go. You press the clutch down if you push your brakes so you don’t kill the engine abruptly. If you go downhill, ideally you use larger gears because the brake is stronger; greater torque, yk. Reverse gear is your good friend.

Driving well is a skill. But driving in itself i.e. making a vehicle move is not hard at all. The machines were designed by smart brains which means they can be operated by stupid brains.

Driving when other people are also driving is where the story gets tricky. The steeper the slope, the sharper the bend, the smaller the road, the worse the condition of the road, the trickier it gets.

Mostly all we expect from other drivers is courtesy. When people drive the city limit, keep to their sides of the roads, respect the road dividers, let the more urgent vehicles pass them by slowing down and moving to the side and signalling them when it is safe to do so (it’s just Physics, people!), obey traffic laws and traffic policemen, allow safe passage for pedestrians at zebra crossings, and send out regular indicators and blinks to let other drivers know which direction you will be taking, driving is safe. 

Basic courtesy, guys. Just that alone can carry you so far. 

If you’re driving downhill, it is more convenient for you to pause a bit so someone meeting you uphill can access a greater portion of the road than you; that’s basic mechanics. If you’re about to meet someone driving opposite you, it’s safer to slow down a little so the gravity of it all don’t mess anyone on either side; again, it’s just physics. If you’re negotiating a tricky, small, or bendy road, it saves everyone so much more time if someone not flash their ego around and pause a bit to let others pass rather than a whole negotiation where your vehicles are a centimetre apart; what does that really prove, anyway? 

There are other things as well. When dusk settles, there’s no need to suddenly rush; you’ll get where you’re getting in good time. When you’re driving in the dark, especially on rainy nights, check that your blue light is not on because, gentle reader, that means your high-beam is on and the person opposite you cannot see anymore. If you drive a two-wheeler, just because you can twist the vehicle a bit does not mean it is “small” per se; with its handles, a two-wheeler is roughly 2/3rd the size of a car; stop thinking you can squeeze in tight places easily without causing other people difficulty. Believe me, you are causing problems for people!

It is also worth noting, as my sister always says, to never be so good at driving you become bEtTer tHAn tHe tRaFfiC ruLes. Obey the traffic rules. They are just a list of common sense, listed down coherently as a Rule for everyone’s safety, yours included.

Happy driving, folks.

NB: There's a policeman who makes reels on Aizawl traffic. Very nice. Also all his videos have bigots on the comment sections LMFAO

From Bible to M&B Names

Leah in the Bible was unloved by her husband. Clearly a woman with issues. She had a few sons. With each of the firstborns, she hoped to win over her husband. The first one she named Reuben – See, A Son, she implored Jacob. The second she named Simeon – He Who Hears, she said, hoping Jacob can understand that God is on her side. The third she named Levi – Attached, she said, begging Jacob to be joined to her. At the fourth she seems to have given up on Jacob. Instead she turned to God. She said “This time, I will praise the Lord” and she named this one Judah – Praise, in other words.

Interestingly, it is this fourth son, the one that sealed her finally giving up on trying to please a man (or read Man, here?) and her turning to God instead, that God chose to be physically incarnated into, the lineage that gave Israel its kings, you know, David, Jesus, yada yada.

I find this really interesting. With names, basically. The Bible is rife with it. Many times, the names also changed with the equivalence to baptism. New names – from Abram to Abraham, from Jacob to Israel, from Saul to Paul. There is seriously strong symbolism with names.

My grandmother who named me said the God who holds power over time will create such a time for her; my mother thought a fitting Bible namesake would be Esther. Which is how I came to be Esther.

My clan was a sorcerer-priest clan. It was said we descended from tigers; by the by, a tiger being our totem animal, if we come across a dead tiger, a Leihang is expected to cover its dead body with the Pawndum, as one would a human. Our totem plant is the winter gourd. It was said our tongues were dark, as in with magic, or healing, or something else. Which is how I carry the name Leihang. So that’s my name.

During SIR Hearing, I came across a very interesting name: Folina. I’d never come across this name in ever. So while we waited for the internet to cooperate, I asked her what part of the world that name was from. She said she didn't know. Already stupidly invested, I asked her who gave her the name. She said grandma. Committed, I pressed on: did she find it in a novel or film, by any chance? She giggled sheepishly and whispered, Ya it’s from M&B.

I read a lot of M&B growing up. My cousin loved romance stories and she had a lot of them lying around. In college, I bought a lot of second-hand books that Delhi streets made readily accessible – a whole fun book for 25 bucks, come on, I was not going to pass that up. Even there, I’d never come across a Folina. 

I was very fascinated with this grandmother who read M&B and loved one character or name so much she gave it to her granddaughter. I’d like to meet her. Because this is something I can relate to. This is what readers do. Sometimes, characters or names or themes just impress us so much we have to find an outlet for them. 

At times, that is names, as it turned out.

FOMO – FIFA ed.

In Mizoram, we have different modes of reference. One is FIFA World Cup. As in, where were you last World Cup Finals? 

I say FOMO but it’s not exactly a true Fear Of Missing Out as it is a mild inconvenience and negligible irritation. It’s a hassle explaining to people that I do not enjoy sports and even in Harry Potter, I skip over the Quidditch parts; same with Krikkit in Hitchhiker’s Guide. Also when you say you don’t enjoy sports, you don’t come off sounding good. So it’s just easier to sit and watch the World Cup finals.

Which I did, although the match was a little boring and I didn’t stay up for the majority of the second half. Even so, this is a list of what I knew about the 2026 FIFA World Cup:

1. Erling Haaland: Reels.

2. I recognized the following people onscreen at the Finals (aka the only match I saw): Matt Damon, Tom Cruise, Donald and Melania Trump, Madonna, Ronaldo, Ronaldinho, Shakira, Justin Bieber, the Coldplay guy, BTS, and Messi.

3. The Spanish Goalkeeper lowkey looks like Taylor Swift’s husband.

4. I enjoy both the bouncing little FIFA football emoji that has been active on WhatsApp since the start of the World Cup season, as well as the bouncing regular football emoji when you “like” someone’s WhatsApp status.

5. Mizo memes w.r.t. the season.

6. I never knew a Coach could be Yellow-Card-ed. What happens if you give them a Red?

7. It is Erling Haaland’s first WC; Messi and Ronaldo’s last.

8. A little baby Messi bathed defeated him so this is basically a football version of Harry Potter and Lord Voldemort.

9. Trump ran his mouth against Spain and when Spain won, tried to incorporate himself in their celebration. Shameless. But not the fun shameless like Britney Spears’ Piece of Me lyrics.

10. It is on nights like this that P&E and service providers are probably sweating because so much depends on them because nobody will notice their work to make things happen but will curse them to feckin’ Sheol if the light or the internet gives out. Also, this reminds me how capitalism forces people to find roundabouts instead of taking the government to task so it is in a government’s interest to promote a little capitalism. Case in point, last night: for a bit, the power went out, but most of us had back-up power because this is our roundabout; instead of forcing the government to provide us uninterrupted power, we will prefer to use our own money and buy us the power. Little economics. IDK if you agree.

11. Government of Mizoram, and I think Meghalaya and Kerala – you football states – decided to give their employees a half day. Some people said it was useless since it is not even happening in our turf. But the government can give so little motivation to its employees. Let us enjoy a half-day because of FIFA World Cup 2026.

12. My beagle Mavena did not understand anything but he was super excited to stay up till late at night with everyone in the house and eat from 12 midnight to 3AM because usually he’s not allowed to eat from 6PM onwards.

13. As per everyone, Messi and Ronaldo have toxic fandoms. But I know for a fact that if a fandom is not a little toxic, it’s not worth very much to be in them. Exhibit A: Swifties. Or don’t even get me started on Whovians and Potterheads. All fandoms are a little toxic; they are voluntary In-Groups and Out-Groups. It is what is fun about fandoms. One of my fandoms is where we all pretend to be ants in an ant colony; it is very tame, nothing happens there, and I often forget about it, too. Not one day passes when the internet doesn’t remind me of toxic Swifties. Fandoms are toxic. The slight toxicity is what gives it kick. 

Like alcohol, actually! 

Cheers!

For The Love of Stand-Up Comedy

I hope we get Mizo Stand-Up Comedians one of these days that can do a 20 minutes to an hour set, in Mizo or English or Minglish I don’t care but it’s about a Mizo experience, and it is not about “There is this one guy…” which is how Mizo comedians tell jokes but yk the story might be funny and I’d laugh but I would still always prefer self-referenced comedy and I think I’d find the joke funnier if you convinced me “the guy” was you or maybe your friend, someone with a name, the Martin to Gabriel Iglesias, yk.

That’s a really long sentence. If you read that without taking a breath, take one now.

I like comedy. My favourite ones tend to be, like I mentioned, the self-referenced ones, the first person narration, and if it is self-deprecating, it is even funnier to me. What that says about me IDK; you make of that what you will. 

I think presently my favourite stand-up comedian is Trevor Noah who Atu and Momo introduced me to, with the Zambian Escalator joke. He has smart comedy. I even bought his book "Born A Crime" and read it; quite enjoyable. Back in college, I was, as were most Englosh speaking Millennial Indians, partial to Russell Peters; somebody gonna get a-hurt real bad, yk. And then later, Fluffy.

Recently I’ve started listening to Indian stand-up comedy in English and am thoroughly enjoying some of the sets. I even have favourites now. My current favourite is Shamik Chakrabarti who got me hooked with the story of how he lost his laptop one night. I could relate! Especially with the policeman training him how crime is investigated in India, and how most office passwords are Admin123. I know some of your office WiFi passwords are exactly that. Or yk, Admin1234.

Or his muse on how Indian parenting somehow trains you to be "sickeningly honest" that you find yourself a sleeper cell, reporting on yourself to your parents. They don’t know you bought a laptop, but you somehow find yourself telling them you lost the laptop they didn’t know you bought, so that now the only outcome is you are forever the Laptop Loser. Hilarious. Because it happens.

The school bus driver story, the Karnataka tiger reserve, the buying a Hall AC for a one bedroom house, the auto charge of 77INR… I play them over and over; relaxes me while it amuses me. 

A close second would be Niveditha Prakasam who’d wryly ask you if you knew that people with generational wealth looked just like us? Or how from Tamil Nadu, everyone else is a North Indian, much to the possible chagrin of Mumbaikers and Bangaloreans, maybe. I laughed hard at how she described her sexual awakening and exploration of it, and how it connected to IRCTC booking!

Laughed too, at how Hollywood, unlike Bollywood, preferred the dark-skinned Indian girls to represent India but how they also get it wrong and then you have two Tamil girls representing Indians in Bridgerton and their names were “Sharma”. Chagrin of thw fair-skinned Sharmas, maybe.

Then there is Somnath Padhy who I started to listen to because of his hilarious set on Vitamin D Deficiency. Because I was researching Vitamin D deficiency on Google, perhaps. Algorithm, yk. His relatable stories include Indian classrooms, frogs v. cockroaches, engineering over MBBS, and electrical engineers at war. Hilarious. 

In Mizo, I think comedy form is theatre drama over stand-up. All our stand-ups are basically people telling a series of jokes, but not exactly as a set. Which is what is missing from our stand-ups. Even so, my favourite Mizo comedian used to be Thangkura drama party; I memorized the drama too back in cassette days, because I listened to them so much. I also enjoyed Leikhi Miss even though that was highly slapstick. In contemporary Mizo comedy, I really enjoy the more cerebral and dry humour of Chhara and Mastea. A little earlier, the drama of Zephyr comedy club, headlined by Mapuia. Fun. I also truly enjoy Tleua and gang. 

I believe I enjoy them because these performances come in a larger picture scenario with their own Titles holding the whole set together, I think. And also because they are a reflection and contemplation of Mizo society, without being preachy, and I enjoy that. I even prefer a sermon that is delivered as a funny musing over the Hell Penalty ones. 

But again, not exactly stand-up. I truly hope we get those soon. I am pretty sure the next gen will be up to the task. IDK about reception though. Maybe I’m the only weirdo who enjoys stand-up comedy so much she is hoping to listen to a Mizo/Minglish set soon. IDK. Could be.

I leave you this time with an advice from Somnath Pathy: if you are going to drink and drive in India, do it during the day because the police don’t have their device; they’re charging it for the night.

When 1 + 1 ≠ 2

One plus one is not always two. 

There is a fundamental flaw in teaching people abstract concepts without letting them know that these are abstract concepts that have real life implications and applications. That they are not real in and of themselves. These persons grow up finding it hard to navigate life because they don’t know how to reconcile what they know with what Life shows them. 

One is a concept. Two is a concept. Numbers are concepts. You need to define them. You need to set parameters for them to make sense. You need to be able to say one watermelon plus one watermelon makes two watermelons. This is probably why that person in your Mathematics textbook bought so many watermelons.

If you are presented with incompatible objects, say if you add one orange and one apple, you don’t get two oranges or two apples; you get an orange and an apple. However, if you add one fruit and one fruit, you get two fruits. Your units need to be compatible. Otherwise you get nonsense.

Or if you take indistinguishable objects, like a drop of water. One drop of water plus one drop of water gives you one drop of water, albeit larger. You don’t get two drops of water. Or laundry, perhaps. You add your pile of laundry to your sister’s pile and then you get one larger pile of laundry, not two.

If you want to get philosophical, two votes merge into one concept or a compromise maybe. Or two votes can produce a tie.

Or forget philosophy, even in Economics, when one business and another business joins, they become a merger, a synergy, a joint venture. A single unit. Or sometimes three. Think of your Google plus Android, is that two? Or one? Or Disney plus Pixar – somehow this becomes philosophically a quantum economics unit where it is owned by one, but function like two! Or your Instagram plus Facebook – is that Meta, or two platforms?

There was a joke in mathematics about how 1 + 1 in base 2 is 10 but I am too unfamiliar to get the joke for it to be funny in that I needed it to be explained and please, no joke that requires an explanation is any longer truly funny. But for this blog, the joke holds. Again, there are calculations where even abstract numbers don’t always hold. If you add 1.4 and 1.4, which are still technically read as 1 each becaus they get rounded down, you get 2.8 which you have to round up to 3, so now 1+1=3.

Or in Marital Maths, where on the one hand, you have one human plus one human and you get what is considered One Couple now. Paradoxically, at the same time, the addition of these two persons also end up not just 1 but also simultaneously, two entire khandaans so I don’t know how big your families are, but one plus one equals a hell lot more than two persons!

I think my entire obsession with this contention that 1+1≠2 always is that these days I have been noticing people who can’t seem to work with Context. 

Context matters so much, you guys. Without it, your frame of reference gets all screwed up. You search for black and white where there are only greys. If you teach yourself or some poor sod under your guardianship that one ball plus one ball equals two balls, they’ll understand and apply the same logic elsewhere and understand. If you just force them to accept that one plus one equals two, they’ll remember the equation but application in real life will frustrate them. If they don’t know why it is frustrating, which is to say they don’t know where or what the problem is, they can’t work towards a solution. You can’t score a goal if you don’t know what you’re shooting at. When you must perform a one plus one equation, you have to know exactly what units you are working with! Otherwise logic falls flat. Reason will fail you. 

In Sociology, we talked about Ideal Types. These are not ideal as to mean they are perfect. They are Ideal by way of saying they are the highest abstraction of a Standard of Measure so that you can examine real life characters using them. 

We talked about Bureaucracy because Max Weber talked about bureaucracy. He’d say Bureaucracy is defined by a strict hierarchical structure, with clear division of labor, written rules and formal procedures, impersonal, hiring and operations being merit-based. That’s what a Bureaucracy is to you too, no? But think of your office, your organization, your church, your society. Do you still think it? Yes but now you see how there is an Ideal Type and how Real Life deviates from it? Basic. Fundamental. More people need to learn this, IMHO.

One plus one, I contend therefore, is not always two.

Top Three Lessons From Seniors

The most fun things I’ve learned from seniors don’t go on this list because some of those things are questionable and might not even be wholesome. I definitely know some are not exactly purely technically entirely legal.

There are things though that I have learned and unlearned from seniors. Not surprisingly, most of those things I have learned that have stuck with me are things they actively taught me by action. Words, too, sure, but anyone can say anything. I can tell you exactly how to moonwalk but that does not mean I can show you how to. Because I don’t know how to.  

So bully for words. They don’t mean shit. Unless it is how over time you learn to read between lines and then you learn how to hear what it is they are not saying and then you learn. But that is politics. I am not good at it. I still hit with a blunt object.

The lesson I remember most often is: Usually if we are still angry over something or someone after three days, our anger is legit; otherwise, it might be The Moment, so it is good to mull things over. I remember this most because I blow up quickly. I have a temper. I have tried to follow this advice once or twice. And the funny bit is that even if you’re right to have gotten angry, after three days, the fuel of it all is usually spent. 

The second lesson is: We need to remember that we are in public service and whatever call we make must be made in good faith so as to cause the least inconvenience to the public. This has made me less of a stickler for ruthless discipline and more a disciple of a rule I have always followed since childhood – it’s alright to bend a stick if you don’t break it. I suppose I have always been the type to follow the spirit and not the letter.

The third lesson is not anything anyone said to me as it is something I learned on my own over time, watching people, observing them. It is simply this: When people show you who they are, believe them.

I have come to learn to do things the way people do them. I have also come to learn to do things the way people don’t do them. As they say, iykyk.

yk.