Agatha Mantuang is a soft speaker—much like her songs that are slow, melodic, and grounded. A Zomi singer-songwriter from Lamka, Manipur, her music echoes traces of ancestry, childhood, and the stories that have shaped her. Once a singer in the church choir, she has always loved music; the love of music ran in the family. “My grandpa used to write love songs before he became an evangelist and my mother loves singing too and really supported me.”
Songwriting has always been meditative for Mantuang. She keeps little diaries for her fragments of thought and lyrics, which she jots down. “I write poems, and then turn them into songs,” she says. Some songs arrive like a soft gust—unplanned but fully formed.” Mantuang. says, “There are moments when I just sit down, and the song just comes to me. While writing, sometimes it hits you—you find yourself in a very emotional state.”
Her latest single, ‘Wearing My Skin,’ came to her in one night. It’s a vulnerable track about learning to feel comfortable in your own skin while standing strong. “When people see you shine, they dig for flaws to tear you down. But if you own your flaws first, they lose their power and become your strength,” says Mantuang.
‘Wearing My Skin’, is dedicated to her mother, whose hard work shaped her childhood. “It’s kind of uncomfortable to talk about,” says Mantuang. “She worked really hard. We were five sisters. My dad had a job, and my mom was a tailor. “Life wasn’t hard in the beginning. But when my dad got into addiction, I started to see life differently, and it was only going downhill,” she says. “My parents loved each other but they were just so caught up with surviving that you could not see the love between them—that affected our world. I could see my mom’s mental health deteriorating,” she adds, humming a line from the song. “That’s why I wrote that line: ‘My mom, she likes to sleep on the couch.’ She still does.”
Although the song is emotionally heavy to perform, Mantuang holds onto hope. “I’m okay,” she says, “I have to bring out the shame. There are so many people growing up like me. I want people like me to come out of that sense of shame. For that I have to be vulnerable first. I have to be the one to put the shame out there—and others can follow, if they relate. It’s about returning to your childhood and letting that pain speak.”
Her debut single, ‘Mirth’, released in 2022, is a dream-pop about identity and optimism. “I wrote it for the child that I used to be—the scared child with a lot of fears. I’m comforting myself with that song.” The track is influenced by Christian choir music, featuring choir harmonies and organ. It builds a sound that feels transcendent and immersive. By bringing in church and choir influences, Mantuang was honouring the place where her musical journey began. “My first stage was the church. I wanted to write something about myself. So, the church naturally comes into the picture,” says Mantuang.
Her first single came out in 2022 and her second only three years later. When asked about the gap, she says, “In 2022, I was still finding my sound. During that time, ‘Mirth’ was the only thing I felt confident about.” In the years between, she was experimenting. She dove into the underground scene in Delhi, co-owning the avant-garde post-punk band Sordid Saviour. “I liked working in the band. But I didn’t feel like I was healing. I want my music to heal me and others too,” says Mantuang.
What’s coming?
Mantuang is set to perform this Friday, previewing tracks from her upcoming unnamed EP, around the theme of homeland and nostalgia. “I might have three or four songs.”
One confirmed song is ‘Nostalgia Medley’, a bittersweet letter to her hometown Lamka. “Some think I wrote it after the ethnic violence. But it’s actually from before that. Even then, there was already distortion. The weight of that distortion—of loss and memory—remains.”
Another track is ‘Zolawkta’. “It’s a bird that symbolises division and chaos in the Zo language. It cries for love and peace,” she explains. “There are many folk songs about it— ‘Zolawkta aw, chik ciang khol ding na hiam?’ (Oh Zolawkta, when will you stop crying?) If we keep on fighting, when will peace arrive?” The song—performed in a tone that’s both confrontational and hopeful—is a tribute to her community. “I wrote it during a heightened political time in Manipur,” she says. “It also speaks about unity and love.” It features verses in her mother tongue Paite, a branch of the broader Zo language. “It’s personal and I’m sure people from my hometown will appreciate it.”
The unseen struggles
Mantuang, who is also a photographer, and runs a thrift store, performs monthly with her pianist friend Lian Suanlal Guite at Delhi’s The Piano Man. “Music alone isn’t always enough to get by, especially when you’re just starting out. A lot of musicians and artists are underpaid and that’s something people should look into, I feel these days, music is being taken for granted.”
The struggles can be tougher for women. “Mostly everything is male-dominated. Men are great to work with, but you have to be careful. Read the room. Make yourself safe. That’s something extra a woman in music has to do. Look out for herself. You have to be tough. Because you can’t change people. You just have to adapt.” Like the Zolawkta, Mantuang sings—not because everything is whole, but because it’s still healing. And maybe, one day, the song will change.
Agatha Mantuang is set to perform at Delhi’s OddBird Theatre, Dhan Mill, Chattarpur, on Friday, June 6, at 8 pm