UNTITLED In every stroke, lengths and curves A story hides, with strength, preserved The brush flows, black ink. A horse’s nicker whispers. The most ancient monument of Mongolian written language is the 800 year-old Stone of Chinggis. On its body, a celebratory message is carved in the 16 consonants and 5 vowels that we know as the Uygurjin Mongolian script. The nomads. One with the wind, and one with the water. We are both forgetful and forgotten. Every wave of the river is unrepeated. Every scent in the wind is obliterated. We have been nomads ever since the beginning of our existence. We are untamed, like our monuments and memories. From cave carvings to city ruins, the history unrevealed proves us unrepeated and pieces of our legacy, obliterated. Thus, an upright script- a standing treasure of the mind and bodyis what connects today to our history.
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Brothers were separated, and lands were fragmented. Days have passed, and the new has plagued.
Tenuun
20th century was us under our soviet brothers, being molded into who we are today. We wanted to be just like them, like a brother. Even though the majority of population was illiterate, the education of Cyrillic alphabet was successfully endorsed with communist empowerment. By 1946, the traditional script was scraped off of chalkboards all over the country. And in the mere half century that followed we were almost entirely literate: with Cyrillic letters. The new has plagued. The repressed fights, and the free concur. The repressed remembers, and the free forgets. Today, our family, the Inner Mongolians, use this script in their daily lives, even while they suffer under cultural oppressions from authorities. While one friend can read only five words by it, another friend who lives and was raised in China, knows all. While my people talk about its uselessness, our people are getting killed for its use. While we enjoy Russian apartments with wide windows, we are being force-labored in concentration camps. And as one fights over the complexity of its essence, another one is fighting to learn it. To have pride, one must find their identity. To have an identity, one must embrace what they have and endure what they face.
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