Hlimsang

I attend Presbyterian church which I believe likes to consider itself more composed, more rational and more solemn than a lot of other churches. Of course, in Mizoram, song-and-dance is an inherent part of worship and can’t be divorced from it. And where there is song-and-dance, a little illogic and a little collective effervescence, as Emile Durkheim would put it, are bound to sneak in. Cheeky little devils. Maybe not devils per se, but cheeky nonetheless.

I’ve never been a fan of all this effervescence. 

All the time I was growing up and there was a revival in church, or people get effervesced around the big holidays like Christmas or Good Friday, I got super nervous. Because of one simple recurrent action – hlimsang. I guess it just means they get Over-Excited? Over-Effervesced? Overly filled with the spirit, I think. Then they can’t control themselves. They start dancing in random, jerky motions and speak in tongues. I truly enjoyed this spectacle as a curious child. However, I also felt inordinately worried and anxious that they would jerk me out of my seat in the pew and drag me out and I would either have to dance like them or be paralysed there on the spot. None of them ever did that to me. But to this day, it remains a worry with me.

I feel like the Hlimsang people would be able to see through me, being as filled with the spirit as they are. And that one of them would just point at me and scream at me: REPENT! I would, definitely. Instantly. Whatever they accused me of. Or worse, they point and scream: CONFESS! I know for sure I would start confessing to sins I didn’t even commit. And I have a wild, active imagination. It is a constant worry.

I worry still.