Duhaisami Tochhawng You scroll through a reel of Aizawl at dusk. The camera pans across the ridge. Terraced houses cling to the slope, holding on the way our houses do because our land is nearly vertical and there is nowhere else for them to sit. The light is soft. The audio is Japanese, likely a …
We Are Not Your Little Anything: On the Portrayal of Mizoram and the Ethics of Being Seen
