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Lost Brothers of the Thais: Tais of Assam

A musical journey to the heart of the spirit


Lost Brothers of the Thais: Tais of Assam

Dr. Rajib Handique
When Chusak Suvimolstien left Bangkok for Assam, a state in the eastern part of India bordering on Myanmar, he never imagined the surprises that would be in store for him. A Thai Buddhist, he had just left an important job as an instructor at the Huachiew Chalermprakiet in Bangkok and decided to plunge into research. He had heard about the Tai people and especially of the Tai-Ahoms of Assam, from several academic sources and therefore wanted to do research on them. What Chusak experienced after staying and interacting with the Tai people in Assam was very profound. According to him, the Tais of Assam belong to the same ethnic stock as the Thais, and in one way are their lost brothers or cousins.

Chusak visits with a village elder.
A long way back in history, the Tai-Ahoms had migrated from Yunnan in China to Burma and finally migrated westwards into the Brahmaputra Valley located in the eastern part of India. In the year 1215, Sukapha, the leader of the Ahoms, along with his followers left Maulung in Upper Burma and after defeating several tribes on the way, entered the Brahmaputra Valley in the year 1228. Sukapha founded the Ahom Kingdom, which lasted for more than six hundred years. During the early period of Ahom rule, there continued intermittent flows of small migrant groups of Tai origin into the Ahom Kingdom. The later Tai migrants were mostly Buddhist.
The Ahoms were able to develop a new civil society based on equality of all the tribes living in the Brahmaputra valley. This new identity was Assamese, which also developed a distinct language. The Ahoms assimilated and patronized the new identity and the Assamese language. In the process, the majority of the Ahoms forgot their ancestral language. However, the priests of the Ahoms preserved the original Tai language and this is what scholars like Chusak find so interesting. The Ahom kingdom was only overthrown after the advent of the British colonial masters as per provisions of the Treaty of Yandaboo signed on 24 February 1826.
However, under the colonial rule, the Royalty disintegrated and the British cultivated a new and privileged middle-class and bureaucracy. The British did not have much confidence in the Ahoms, as they initially struggled hard to regain their lost independence. This marginalized the Ahoms and diminished their power. This marginalization of the Ahoms fit perfectly into the well-known British policy of ‘divide and rule’.

Chusak (4th from right) standing with a group of Tai Phake villagers.

Thus a new elite developed in colonial Assam, which largely excluded the Ahoms. This same elite largely dominated the polity and the socio-economic and cultural domains of Assam even in the post independent period of the country.
Ahom consciousness of a distinct identity developed during British rule. It also led to political mobilization with the formation of the All Assam Ahom Association in 1893, which was later named as the Ahom Sabha. In a significant speech, one of the presidents of Ahom Sabha, Surendranath Buragohain stated, “It is a great fortune on the part of the Indian Union that the great Tai family people have been within India. The Indian Government can utilise this force as a medium to establish friendship between India and Eastern Asia.” However, this was not heeded to both before and after independence of India.
With the dawn of the new millennium and the increasing demands of globalization coupled with the demand created upon the opinion built up by academicians, intellectuals and the people of Assam demanding opening of the eastern borders, the situation has begun to change. One should never lose sight of the fact that the peoples of North East India are predominantly mongoloid and there are several groups of Tais, like the Tai-Phake, Tai Turung, and the Tai-Ahoms. Chusak lived amongst these people and was exhilarated by some similarities.
As he said, “Though it was a gap of almost a millennium, I found many similarities in their Tai language, some of the rituals and some sculpture and architecture. Even some food and food-habits bear uncanny similarities. I feel a urge to admit that maybe we even feel alike.”
The names of several rivers and places of Assam in Tai language remind us of their cultural background. Nam means water, as kai means chicken in their traditional language. Chusak feels that it was western imperialism that divided these peoples and that it is time to build bridges between them. “There are lots of linkages and one needs only to use them to strengthen the ties,” he feels. He further opines that places like Chiang Mai and Chiang Rai are closer to Assam than other places in the region.
One can feel the optimism in the air as there is the new Look East Policy adopted by the Government of India. The ASEAN car rally held in 2004, linking up Guwahati, the premier city of North East India, with the other centers of SE Asia marked a new beginning. One can definitely hope that in the coming days there will be closer ties between the people of Assam and this region, including Thailand. Perhaps there would also be more projects like the Thai-Yunnan Project, which was done in the late 1990s jointly by Chulalongkorn University and the Australian National University.
Perhaps, the dream of Chusak to travel by public transport all the way from Bangkok to Assam via Chiang Mai and Burma will be accomplished one day. One can only pray that sooner is the better.
The writer is from Assam, India and is a participant of the Three-Months Certificate Course on Peace and Conflict Studies at Chulalongkorn University, Bangkok


A musical journey to the heart of the spirit

Taal Yatra – An Odyssey Into Rhythm

Mantras melted into rhythm, speaking to the soul through the medium of music.

Andrew Watson
I’ve been to India and I loved it. If I close my eyes, I can smell the gentleness of jasmine floating in the air, juxtaposed with the harshness of kerosene clinging to the air. I can hear the incessant babble of a thousand voices, shouting, laughing and crying above the sound of wandering cows and a concert of motor horns. I can feel the warmth and the love of the people and through all my assailed senses, the rhythm of the country. It was chaotic, colourful, vivid, bustling and brilliant.
The Hard Rock Hotel is all about concept. I can empathise, being an artist; the whole experience of being there is designed to reflect the nature of the subject. It’s all about big picture event management with meticulous attention to detail. They work subliminally; nothing is left to chance.
I had heard great things about Taai Yatra, an innovative Indian classical ensemble, led by the great tabla maestro and music master Pandit (Pt.) Suresh Talwalkar. I was enthused by the prospect of witnessing their traditional and Indian classical compositions, symbolizing the perfect synergy of several streams of Indian music: dance, vocal, instrumental and Tabla solo music.
What I was less prepared for was the recreation of the unmistakeable sense of being in real India, which greeted me as I sauntered into the Hall of Fame. There was a tremendous sense of confusion. People rushing from place to place; no-one knowing quite where to go or what to do. I needed a ticket in order to get a coupon in order to get a drink. All this involved queuing and unlike Dr. Kildare, I’m not known for my patience. At times like this, I find it’s best to circumnavigate protocol. I searched for the bar but ended up back where I started, empty handed, having completed the longest possible path back to the same place. It was the kind of thing which in England would result in voluble protests from patrons, but here? No such thing! Beyond the bedlam, there was an atmosphere of excitement and anticipation. In India, it seems that everything life throws at you is greeted with a broad smile.
Around me, there were waves of colour. Saris and Salwar-Kameez (loose trousers and long shirt) flowed around the foyer. It was as it had been requested; all casual elegance, with a touch of India.
As we used to say in London, I was absolutely ‘Hank Marvin’. (rhyming slang for ‘starvin’: incidentally, do you think Hank uses the expression himself?) Chatting in the vestibule, I had increasingly become aware of my gnawing hunger, surrounded as I was, by a buffet including all manner of sensational Indian dishes. Another cunning Hard Rock ploy: before the assembled were allowed to satiate their ravenous desires, we first had to be seated in the Hall of Fame. Only then, were we freed to return from whence we had come only seconds before and gorge ourselves. You see what I mean? Such attention to detail! Seeing the lines of patrons stretching around the buffet, it was time to start another, new line. When in India…
The patrons were politely shunted out of the Hall again as the orientation of the seating was altered. I could appreciate the reason for this; Indian music is all about connecting with the audience. My sense of frivolity was replaced by one of rumination. We were about to be taken on a spiritual journey to the heart of music and a musical journey to the heart of the spirit. Taal Yatra were about to reveal Pandit (Pt.) Suresh Talwalkar’s constant contemplation, reflection, mediation and evaluation of rhythm in an enthralling audio-visual experience. By interweaving the musical elements of the Tabla, the Western drums, Kathak dance, North Indian vocal music, sitar and flute, he reveals the “Oneness” of diverse musical instruments and performing arts.
A piece would start with either the soft call of the flute, a subtle rhythm or a mesmeric incantation, as if inviting the soul to awaken. Gently, the spirit was nurtured, cajoled, lifted, with a kind of studied spontaneity. At the heart of the caressing fluidity of the music, there was consummate control and intuitive discipline. The relationship between the artists and audience became absolute; a kind of conversation was underway, and we were being invited to become part of it.
Pandit (Pt.) Suresh Talwalkar is also known as “Guru Ji”. He is a spiritual teacher, an enlightened one. He and Taal Yatra had waited on stage with meditative patience whilst the dignitaries had made their salutations, which were extensive if heartfelt. Just as you thought the performance was about to begin, we heard “And now just a few words from…” It was all very Thai and simultaneously very Indian, demonstrating appropriate veneration for the customs and traditions of protocol and tremendous respect for the sense of occasion. The more elevated the overture, the more significant the occasion, the more celebrated the artist.
For Pattaya, the concert represented further evidence, if any were required, of the city’s growing reputation as a world class centre for cultural and artistic celebration. For the Thai-Indian community of Pattaya in particular, the presence of Taal Yatra was reason to rejoice. In India, a population of a billion people (and three roads), Guru Ji is a massive name. It occurred to me that his presence also reflected recognition of the integral role of the Thai-Indian community in the continuing success story of the city.
I marvelled at Guru Ji’s sense of calm, relaxed concentration. The odyssey into rhythm lulled and wooed us into a contemplative state, each participating element demonstrating consummate respect for the purity of their tradition, whilst affirming and enhancing the oneness of it all. In this way, the Western drums serve only to reaffirm the classical stylization of the Tabla. The Indian Rhythm System was assimilated without altering their technique. The vocal compositions were rendered without tampering with the purity of the ragas in which they are composed or with the aesthetics of the compositions. At times, Guru Ji sounded almost like a rapper, as his mantras melted into the rhythm. There was synthesis of all the essential elements around us; the audience was another instrument, a natural extension of the Taal Yatra body; part of it all.
The sensual, immaculate choreography of the Kathak dance put the abstract shapes of sound into physical form. Kathak is among the six major classical dances of India and is synonymous with the community of artists known as Kathakas whose hereditary profession it was to narrate history while entertaining. With a flick of the wrist, or a twirl like a breeze around a blossom, they became the embodiment of the rhythm. A sense of fusion pervaded, a natural culmination of Sureshji’s profound knowledge and unceasing contemplation of cadence.
Profound understanding of various musical media, through consideration of the scope and limitations of each one of them and the evaluation of one medium from the point of view of other media are the essence of Sureshji’s musical asceticism and innovation. The impulse to express innate feelings has surely been the prime intent behind every musical expression. Taal Yatra embraces this sentiment and generates a powerful sense of deep and shared humanity, building bridges of intuitive understanding as they move around the pulsing heart of the compositions, illuminating new dimensions of the beauty of colours, lines, space and forms.
When it was done, an encore was demanded which became a natural extension of our experience. Then there were garlands, adulation and thanks. Guru Ji’s eyes burned bright as the Hall of Fame emptied and our hearts filled and then there was time for reflection; the odyssey had taken me to a better place and I, like many around me, was deeply grateful.

Mayor Niran humbly presents Guruji with the key to Pattaya City.

Guruji, garlanded his beloved disciple Kata Permsub, the only Thai prodigy ever to study under the great maestro.

Guruji gives his blessings to Mayor Niran Wattansartsathorn and Gen. Kanit Permsub as they present Amrik Singh with the proceeds that will benefit those who need it most…the children.

Body mind and spirit in sensual synthesis, like a breeze around a blossom they became the embodiment of fantasy.

United by a gift of studied spontaneity they caressed the heart of sound.

The Pattaya community is a fusion of cultures from all over the world, so the presence of Taal Yatra was an integrated reason to rejoice.

In celebration of the 60th anniversary of His Majesty the King’s accession to the throne, the concert was organized by the Ministry of Culture, Royal Thai Government, Embassy of India and “Sri Laya” foundation, Pattaya City in Cooperation with the Hard Rock Hotel, the Thai-Indian Community of Pattaya and the Pattaya Mail.