Mizo Puitling Thawnthu Thar: Preserving Cultural Heritage through Storytelling

The sound of the evening church bell rang over the valley, but to Laltluanga, it sounded distant, like a memory from a past life. He sat on the rusted tin veranda of his small government quarter, a half-empty cup of tea cooling in his hand.

He remembered the old story his grandmother used to tell— Chhura , the wanderer who was never content. He smiled bitterly. Perhaps we are all Chhura now, running toward a horizon that forever moves away.