An A·chik (Garo) song about our roots, identity, and faith
Sharing an A•chik song that I think beautifully captures a part of our cultural story. The lyrics speak about our ancestors, the old stories passed down through generations, life in the hills, traditional A·chik instruments, and the importance of standing firmly in our own roots. I found the combination really interesting because the song is distinctly A·chik in its imagery and identity while expressing a Christian worldview. I’ve included the original lyrics with an English translation (translated by me so it can have some errors, the translations are not literal but I have tried to keep it more flowing, natural to english wording style) below so that more people from across Northeast India can understand and appreciate it:
“Jatinkoan tinode baikugenma kambede
Will the peak (of our tribe) still endure?
Ritimgital nikoba bibal sale siloba
Even if seen like a new line, even if flowers bloom beautifully.
Ama ambi gitchamni golpo gitcham urangni
Of the old stories of our grandmothers and mothers.
Apa sagi manenga, goltidinge sikia
Our late fathers scolded us and taught us with a stick.
Rama dile mesoka
Guided us and showed us the path
Gangitchamkon chimponge surikoan kolame
Gathering even the old clothes and worn rags.
Ang manana batode jepo tangka dongjaode
Even if I get, or even if I have no money in my pocket.
Chibolokni chikoa amang senga ringjawa
I will not drink the water of the muddy pool even if it is clear.
Jawa jaongijako kasin chidarenikosa
Leaving what others have, [I will drink] only from the cold waterfall.
Chinga ringe okkaa
Drinking (from the cold waterfall) we are full(fulfilled)
Chinggitade gri asong gimiko
There is no one like us for our native land.
Jatango chadenge achubatgipao
Standing on our own feet in the place we were born.
Sanasa pasikna chingna donako
For whom should we make excuses for what is kept for us?
Chinga hoe achiksa ringa sulba chingnisa
We are A'chiks (Garos), and the song's tune is also ours.
Dama bangsi adil chigringsa
The drum, the flute, and the horn sound so sweet.
Hoe ringa gitelna rasong ona jisuna
Singing to give glory to the Lord, to Jesus.
Komijawa jawa gipinna
It will not decrease or be inferior to others.(will not bow down to others)
Abri mittin mittino angni ano angjongrang
Deep in the hidden hills are my mothers and my younger brothers.
Tebil bijak ritchue dongnugenba daoban
Even now they will hide, joining the leaves of the table.
Churing chanaba chimonge ramasamni akoan
Gathering earth by the roadside to boil water from the stream.
Pura weko sikaba ake bolbijakoan
Plucking the tree leaves and making rice flour.
Mainasa nisia
Why is it destroyed?
Chatchi maia deachim sani deasaanchim
What kin or relatives were the children, whose children were they?
Chola gipok kruoa kni gitchinge chitoa
Wearing a white shirt, combing the hair to the side.
Katta doka baonisa? Balwa balan dingtangsa
From where are the words spoken? The blowing wind is different.
Chuongan pattijokba nambatakon onjokba
Enough has been blessed, the better has been given.
Haiwa jringjot tanggipa
Come, behold the one who lives forever.”
Poraiani aro knani gimin mitela!!
(Thanks for reading and listening)