The Cost of the Forest Meat
A Lepcha tale from Sikkim.
Written by: Norden Sambomu Lepcha
Translated by: Lungmying Breemu Lepcha
Edited by: It’s Wild Out HereCharacters:
Anum Anga: A skilled hunter, and beloved father.
Anom Chekit: Anum Anga's hardworking and long-suffering wife.
Doma: The eldest child of Anum and Anom.
Anue Ramit & Choda: Neighbours of the family.
Aching & Angok: Anum Anga's friends.
In a verdant Sikkimese village, there lived a man named Anum Anga. He was known for his hunting skills, often returning home with the spoils of the forest. But while he revelled in his hunting prowess, his wife, Anom Chekit, struggled to keep their household in order.
“The corn is ripe and ready to be harvested, the field needs to be mowed and ploughed again, yet he shows no interest in the field,” Anom Chekit lamented, cradling her youngest child while preparing a meal. “What kind of a househead is he?! All he cares about is hunting and fishing. How long must I bear this burden alone?”
On the other side of the kitchen, her three children huddled around a small fire, while their mother continued her quibble, "Your father only knows how to hunt animals in the forest and catch fish from the rivers. Who taught him these fatuous skills? Working in the field feels like a curse, he says. God, must I always keep reminding him to tend to our lands?"
As she spoke, Anum Anga returned from the forest. His old gun slung over one shoulder and a fox in his hand. He was covered in leaves, and blood from leech bites. His clothes were caked with mud from the hillside, suggesting he had likely slipped on his way home in the rain. He hadn't had a meal in almost a week. So he ignored the disarray of his house and his wife's misery. Instead, he ravenously devoured the stale rice and chilli paste left on the shelf, his eyes red with hunger.
When Anom Chekit saw the fox, her eyes lit up, relieved at the thought of having meat for a meal. “Despite the monsoon season, you've managed to bring home meat!" she said.
"I feared the forest spirits had finally come to claim you. Thanks to our neighbour Choda who bought in some Chee* yesterday. It helped ease my mind.”
*Chee - a locally brewed fermented drinkShe poured some tea into his cup.
“Didn’t you find any Dorbee? Not even Prongdong or Purmyak. It’s the perfect season, I am sure you must have found them in abundance?”, she asked, hopeful for more provisions.
(In Lepcha, Dorbee is mushroom, Prongdong is bamboo shoot, and Purmyak is Tupistra Nutans.)With his mouth full, Anum Anga gave her a disapproving glare, "I brought this meat after all my hard work, and you still ask for vegetables? Next time, I'll only bring wild vegetables for you!"
Angry, he pushed away his plate of food. Anom pacified her child in her lap and sighed. “But what about the cornfield? If we don’t harvest it soon, it will rot.”
Exhausted from his journey, he ignored her and went to sleep.
After his nap, he cooked the fox meat and served it to the family, his pride hanging over the meal.
“Hah! The God of the Forest has blessed me with this powerful gun,” he bragged. “I am telling you Anom, no animal can escape me!”
The next day Anum Anga had his breakfast, packed his bag with his fishing gear along with a Tubhjyang (bamboo basket) and moved towards River Rungklong.
As he left, he sneered at Anom, “You housewives have no work. Get someone to help with the field, and get it done.”
Heartbroken by his words, Anom thought of the life that might have unfolded had she accepted the man her parents had chosen for her, rather than eloping with Anum Anga. Lighting the fire in the stove she thought “Unlike my younger sister who eventually married him, I'm not educated either. She's living in far greater comfort. As for me, comfort and wealth remain strangers." With a heavy sigh, she resigned herself to her chosen path.
She snapped out of her reverie as their neighbour, Regho Anue Ramit, arrived with a bag of ripe pears.
“Aye Kyong met song! Are you awake? Better wake up, your cornfield needs harvesting!” she called out.
("Aye Kyong met song!" translates as "Hey you house folks!")Anom came out of her room to greet her “Ah! Anue what brings you here? You didn’t have to bring these!”, she exclaimed as she accepted the pears and guided Anue inside the house.
“Our home is a bit messy Anue, I hope you don't mind”, Anom offered her with the tea she had been warming. “And, oh! We have Chee too. Please have some while I cook a snack for you.”
Anue Rammit took off her headscarf and drank the Chee “The Chee is strong! Quite bitter and sour. What snack are you making me by the way?” she asked, sniffing the air as Anom fried the meat in a pan with local spices. She suddenly recognized the smell and chuckled with joy “Fox meat! That too in these rains. You are lucky to have a good hunter for a husband.”
"Yes, Doma's father brought it yesterday. He considers household chores a sin, hunting animals and catching fish is his only skill!" Anom replied.
The eldest child comes in with a Pogoreep*, hands it to his mother and says “Today Appa is going to catch a lot of fish, he promised. I am so excited for it!”
*Pogoreep - a local flower eaten as a delicacy.
“Aha! Is that right?” Anue asked as she sipped on the Chee.
“I had a nightmare, Anom”, Anue Ramit said, suddenly looking concerned. “I dreamt the street dogs were crying and our cows ran away! My children found them tied to their posts this morning, but the dream felt strangely ominous.”
Hearing this, Anom shared her own episode from this morning, “I too had one today! Then I woke up to find our daughter crying in her sleep, utterly inconsolable. Anum comforted her, promising to bring back fish. He’s on his way to the river now.”
They sipped their Chee in silence, each lost in brooding, uneasy thoughts, hoping the nightmares were nothing more than fleeting fears.
Anue walked over to the stove to set down her plates and glasses. "I should head home now, Anom. I was hoping to catch Doma's father to discuss building a fence around our house. Maybe next time I see him", she said with a shrug.
"Yes, he's quite skilled with that." Anom replied, wrapping some guavas in a handkerchief. "Please take these for your kids." They exchanged a farewell smile, and Anue departed with the guavas in hand.
Meanwhile, on the banks of the River Rungklong, Anum Anga with his friends Aching and Angok, lounged on a big rock. Content with their day’s catch, their baskets were brimming with freshwater fish!
Suddenly Anum Anga broke the silence,
“Friends, let’s catch some more, we still have time left. Last night, I dreamt that we caught a haul!”
They all agreed, and reached a nearby pond, positioning themselves on a rock overlooking the river. Anum observed the waters and instructed his friends, “There! I see plenty of fish right there. Let's prepare our gear.”
The men wasted no time.
Aching hurried to gather Tuknyal* leaves known to have a numbing effect on fish. Meanwhile, Angok skillfully mashed the leaves into a paste and handed it to Anum. Anum swiftly positioned himself at the pond's opposite edge, reeling in fish with remarkable speed. Within moments, the trio had a bountiful haul.
*Tuknyal is Mugwort. Read more about this practice in the report “Use of ichthyotoxic plant Mugwort (Artemesia vulgaris L.) for Fishing: An Indigenous practice in Sikkim” documented by the Department of Horticulture, Sikkim University and College of Horticulture and Forestry, CAU, Pasighat.Amidst their efforts, Anum Anga saw a giant fish wedged under the pond's near end. Driven by greed, he waded into the water to free it. Meanwhile, atop the hill, his friends were pounding local leaves on a large rock balanced precariously on a small pebble.
An unfortunate twist of fate caused the pebble to give way, sending the massive rock crashing into the pond.
Angok and Aching heard a cry.
"AYYYYYAAA!"
Both were startled and hurried down to search for Anum, shouting, "Doma Appa*, where are you?"
*Doma Appa - Doma’s father.
.
.
Anum Anga’s cry echoed far, even into the village, but he could not be found.
.
.
.
The water turned red, and a heavy stillness fell. The lesson was clear. Greed and neglect bring dire consequences, even in the bountiful forest.
That day, the villagers learned the importance of 'balance’, the true cost of forest meat, and the profound impact of hunting wild game. Anum Anga's fate served as a poignant reminder to only take what is necessary and maintain a harmonious equilibrium between tending our own fields and respectfully borrowing resources from the wilderness.
