MOSAIC: What is the vision behind The Northeast Stories, and how do you see it shaping the narrative of Northeast India for the rest of the country?
Hoihnu: While working as a full-time journalist across various media outlets, my heart was always drawn to stories from the Northeast. Yet, for many reasons, these stories rarely made it into the mainstream. Reports of violence would surface, but the stories of people doing extraordinary things were often overlooked.
When I started The Northeast Stories, the intention was very clear to tell stories of the people. From farmers to artisans, elders to home cooks, musicians to small business owners these are the individuals who carry forward our culture, knowledge, and identity every day. In a region like ours, where oral traditions are so strong, documenting these voices becomes even more important.
The Northeast Stories is a platform created to preserve and share these lived experiences to give space to those who are often left out of the mainstream narrative, and to show the Northeast through the lens of its people, not just its headlines. We talk about how beautiful the Northeast is, how it should be on everyone’s itinerary. But then, even basic information — about hotels, local transport, or places to visit — is missing or hard to access.
So we created Northeast Odyssey, a platform dedicated to tourism. We highlight local hotels, homestays, travel routes, hidden gems, and experiences basically everything you need.
MOSAIC: Why do you think a gap in awareness exists between Northeast India and the rest of the country?
Hoihnu: I believe this gap exists due to a combination of historical, geographical, cultural, and systemic reasons. The Northeast is geographically distant from the rest of India, and unfortunately, that distance has also led to a kind of emotional and political detachment over the years.
Communities are not always consulted, and local voices are often left out of decision-making processes. Take the example of the ongoing protests against the Siang dam project in Arunachal Pradesh — locals are opposing the construction because they fear displacement, loss of land, and environmental damage.
There’s also a cultural and social disconnect.
People from the Northeast are often misunderstood or stereotyped, and sadly, face prejudice and discrimination in other parts of the country. There’s a serious lack of representation in education, in mainstream media, and even in policy spaces. Our history, culture, and contributions are barely touched upon in school curricula.
When we are featured in the media, it’s often in the context of conflict, or through a tokenistic or eroticised lens.
MOSAIC: Beyond geography, the Northeast states are deeply interconnected. Can you share examples of this interdependence?
Hoihnu: Absolutely. The idea of the “Seven Sisters” and a brother (Sikkim) is more than just a poetic phrase. It is a lived truth. The connections across the Northeast run deep, not just through borders, but through rivers, forests, food, music, and memory. Despite the political boundaries, there’s a natural rhythm of interdependence that ties the people together socially, culturally, and ecologically.
Take the rivers, for example. The Brahmaputra doesn’t just belong to Assam it flows from Arunachal, shapes livelihoods across the valley, and nourishes communities. Our rivers connect us, carry our legends, and sustain our fields. When there’s a flood or drought in one state, the ripple is felt across others — it’s a reminder that our futures are tied to the same waters.
In terms of food, there’s so much that overlaps not because it’s copied, but because our way of life is connected and these common items like rice is what threads us together. Fermented bamboo shoot, smoked pork, axone, perilla seeds, sticky rice, these ingredients may be prepared differently in each state, but they come from the same land and the same spirit of cooking: local, seasonal, sustainable. Food here is not just sustenance but a very strong element that connects us.
You see it in textiles too from the Phek and Chizami weaves of Nagaland to the loin looms of Manipur, Mizoram, or the intricate motifs in Arunachal, there’s a visual language that echoes across borders.
Our music, from tribal chants to folk instruments like the khuang, tangmuri, or gogona or Jaw harp, may have distinct origins, but they speak to the same emotional landscape. Music here has always been about storytelling, celebration, resistance, and remembering.
The interdependence is real it’s in our rivers, our rituals, our recipes, and our resilience. And it reminds us that while the Northeast is made up of many distinct communities, we are strongest when we move together, not just as neighbours, but as kin.
MOSAIC: Could you share some lesser-known tourist destinations in the Northeast that are close to your heart?
Hoihnu: There are so many places in the Northeast that are not just beautiful but also layered with culture, memory, and meaning; places that don’t always make it to mainstream travel itineraries but carry the true spirit of the region.
One of them is Mechuka in Arunachal Pradesh a remote valley nestled near the Indo-Tibet border. It’s quiet, vast, and feels like time slows down there. The air is crisp, the wooden houses stand strong in the cold, and the Monpa community keeps its traditions alive amidst the mountains. Another place close to my heart is Ziro also in Arunachal where the Apatani tribe practices a unique form of wet rice cultivation that has existed in harmony with the environment for generations. The Ziro Music Festival, held there every year, is a beautiful blend of tradition and modern creativity in the lap of nature.
In Nagaland, there’s the almost-hidden apple orchard in Thanamir village, tucked away in the Pungro subdivision of Kiphire district. It’s the kind of place that doesn’t just grow apples it nurtures stories and a sense of wonder. And of course, Mon district, home to the Konyak tribe, where elders still wear tattoos that mark a history of warrior traditions. This place is a stronghold of ancestral wisdom that still holds firm.
Longwa, a Konyak village, is another fascinating place, a village that quite literally straddles two countries: India and Myanmar. The chief’s house sits right on the border, and the shared identity of the people here challenges our rigid definitions of nationality in a very human way.
Mawlyngot, a small village just 45 minutes’ drive from Shillong, is known for its tea gardens and a strong sense of community-led ecotourism.
Mizoram too has its pretty interiors lush, undisturbed, and rich in stories. The rolling hills, bamboo forests, and the quiet kindness of the people make it a state you must feel, not just see. And Tripura, often left out of the travel conversation altogether, is full of hidden gems from the ancient rock carvings — all waiting to be experienced.
MOSAIC: What aspects of Northeast culture stand out as distinct from the rest of India? How do you celebrate that in your life and work?
Hoihnu: What has always stood out to me about Northeast culture is the profound sense of community, solidarity, and shared responsibility. Life here is lived collectively joy, grief, work, tradition none of it is individualised in the way much of modern life tends to be elsewhere. It’s this deep-rooted interconnectedness that forms the backbone of our social and cultural fabric.
A powerful example is the Zo groups (Chin, Kuki, Mizo) who practice something called Lengkhom. It’s a tradition where, during bereavement, members of the community come together to sing with the grieving family, often through the night.
Rivers, mountains, forests they’re not just backdrops to life, they are part of the family. Many communities follow traditional conservation practices, rooted in spiritual and ecological wisdom. For example, sacred groves in Meghalaya are protected forest patches where no one is allowed to cut trees or hunt. These aren’t state-mandated they’re community-enforced, based on respect for nature.
Matrilineal communities like the Khasi and Garo are often talked about, but even outside that, women have played central roles in shaping community life.
MOSAIC: How do indigenous communities shape identity and development in the Northeast?
Hoihnu: Indigenous communities are truly the heart of the Northeast. They don’t just live on the land they live with it. They shape the landscape in every sense: socially, economically, culturally, and ecologically. And in a world facing climate breakdown and social fragmentation, there’s so much we can learn from the ways these communities continue to live in balance with nature and each other.
Take traditional governance systems like the Dorbar Shnong in Meghalaya — these are grassroots village councils that have existed for generations. They handle everything from conflict resolution to land use, water sharing, and community festivals.
In Ziro, Arunachal Pradesh, the Apatani tribe has practiced a unique form of wetland rice cultivation for centuries combining agriculture with fish farming, and using organic waste instead of chemical inputs. Community forests are managed with unwritten but respected rules certain areas are left untouched, certain trees cannot be felled, and sacred groves are seen as living beings.
In Nagaland, many villages have declared themselves as Community Conservation Areas voluntarily giving up hunting to protect biodiversity. In Khonoma, for instance, the Angami tribe has regenerated entire forest stretches by shifting away from traditional hunting and adopting conservation-led tourism.