Mizoram: a fistful of rice

In the several days we were  in Aizwal,Mizoram, of the seven sisters of North eastern India, we listened only to the local music channel on Television. On the last day there, we could not resist the compulsion to buy a few music CDs and take them home.

Music seemed so perfectly suited to the rolling expanse of blue hills and the wafting motions of the mighty clouds.

The people themselves were every bit of what we were not used to seeing in other parts of the country. Open, gentle, helpful, unsophisticated yet trendy, hardworking and humble, uncomplicated...simple.

Last Sunday, I was even more awed by their simple practice of setting apart a fistful of rice in every meal as an offering to the Lord's table.

Now with my own heartfelt thankfulness to Mizoram, may I share a soul-felt song?

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