By Dr. Aquiny Befairlyne T Mawthoh
High above the bustling city of Shillong, where clouds gently embrace the hills and the morning mist dances through the pine trees, stood a magnificent mountain known as Lum Shillong. She is no ordinary mountain but a mother, a guardian of forests, a keeper of ancient stories, and the birthplace of countless streams that nourished the land below.
Among the many streams that emerged from her slopes, three great rivers stood out as her principal daughters Umiew, Umngot and Umkhen. Born from the same mother’s heart, nourished by the same raindrops and cradled in the same green valleys, yet they could not have been more different. Born from the same mother’s heart, nourished by the same raindrops and cradled in the same green valleys, the three sisters shared a common origin, yet each possessed a distinct personality. Of the three, Umiew and Umngot were the most contrasting, standing at opposite ends of the spectrum. Umiew was known for her gentle and forgiving nature. She flowed quietly through the valleys, nourishing the land and embracing the communities along her banks. She never wished to harm anyone. She was a symbol of kindness, compassion and life. Umngot, on the other hand, was fierce, impatient and fiery. She rushed down the hills and vales with tremendous energy, tumbling over rocks and carving her way through valleys. She disliked obstacles and rarely slowed down for anyone. When stones blocked her path, she pushed them aside. When the winds challenged her, she roared louder. She was beautiful, powerful, but sometimes terribly stubborn.
One afternoon, as the golden sunlight settled over the Khasi hills, the sisters began arguing.
Umngot : “Look at you, Umiew! You move so slowly! By the time you reach the plains, the sun will have set a thousand times.”
Umiew: “And look at you, Umngot. You rush everywhere without noticing the beauty around you’’.
Umngot: “Then let us settle this once and for all. Let us race. Whoever reaches the distant plains first shall be remembered as the greatest daughter of Lum Shillong.”
Umngot rushed ahead, crashing over rocks and sweeping through valleys. Umiew followed at her own pace, gently nourishing the land, filling ponds and sustaining the communities along her journey. But neither sister noticed that something terrible was happening behind them. Their mother, Lum Shillong was in danger!.
For years, the mother, Lum Shillong, had stood silently with her people. She had sheltered them beneath her forests, provided them with fresh air, protected her soil, nourished natural springs and given birth to the streams and rivers that sustained life downstream. She had witnessed generations grow upon her slopes, carrying their memories, traditions and stories.
Yet today, the tears of the mother were no longer merely raindrops that once nourished her forests, they were the sorrow of a mother watching her own beauty disappear. Animals that once roamed freely through her forests were gradually disappearing, their familiar paths becoming silent and their natural habitats vanishing. The songs of birds grew faint, the fluttering of butterflies became less frequent, and the once-vibrant forests slowly began to lose their life and diversity. Lum Shillong feared that one day, if the destruction continued unchecked, her daughters might slowly lose their source of life. The gentle Umiew, the fierce Umngot and their sister Umkhen, who had travelled through valleys and nourished generations of people, might one day lose their strength and vitality. As forests continued to shrink, springs could dry up, water availability could become increasingly uncertain, and communities that had depended on these rivers for generations might struggle to meet their daily needs. But Lum Shillong had not lost all hope. Deep within her heart, she believed that her people still had the power to change the story. She longed for them to understand that protecting a hill was not merely about saving trees, it was about safeguarding an entire network of life.
She dreamed of a future where development and nature could coexist, where construction would be guided by proper environmental planning, where fragile catchment areas and forest cover would be protected, and where the natural flow of streams would remain undisturbed. She wanted her people to revive traditional conservation practices, involve local communities and young generations in protecting their natural heritage, and recognise that every small stream, however insignificant it might appear, played a vital role in sustaining the rivers.
Perhaps, if her people listened to her silent cries, there was still time to heal her wounds. Her forests could grow again, her springs could regain their strength, and her daughters could continue flowing with life, nourishing generations yet unborn.
For if we destroy the mother, we do not merely lose a hill, we risk losing her daughters, Umiew, Umngot and Umkhen, and with them, the life, memories and natural heritage they have carried for generations. But if we protect the mother, we give her daughters a future, and in doing so, we protect our own.
(The author is a faculty member in the Department of Zoology at St. Edmund’s College, Shillong)
