The TribaIs of Kalahandi
Isolated from the mainstream tribals remain victims of their own superstitions and others’ exploitation Superstition
The world of the tribals of Kalahandi region in Orissa is woven around superstitions and age-old customs – as is the case with most of their brethren elsewhere in the country. The strict social order and regulations that have governed their lives for generations are inexorable.
A recent incident which took place in Nuapada district’s Dharamsagar village, situated on the Khariyar-Rajpur Road, is an
apt example. Seventy-year-old Amru Guaal, his wife Niraasha Guaal, 60, his daughter, 20-year-old Pada, son-in-law, Srikar, 30 and his grandchild, Karnla, 8, are residents of Dharamsagar village. The Guaal family barely manages to survive on the wages of manual labour and often goes to bed hungry.
On the day of the incident, there was neither money nor food in the house, not an uncommon occurrence. Even so, a restless Srikar, hunger pangs gnawing at his stomach, asked his wife for food. When told that there was no food in the house, he asked for Rs20; that too, the wife said was not available. An incensed Srikar then took off his plastic slipper and started beating his wife with it. The father-in-law, who tried to intervene, also got beaten up with the slipper.
Later, when the village came to know of the incident, the Jhariya community – to which the Guaals belonged – ostracised Amru and his daughter Pada, because they were beaten by a plastic slipper! They were also prohibited from drawing water from the community well and from interacting with the community. When Amru remonstrated, he was told that their fault would be condoned if he held a feast for people drawn from various communities.
For Amru, already impoverished, the punishment was dreadful.But he had to obey the dictates of the community if he and other members of his family were to be accepted back into the community A helpless Amru and his wife then mortgaged the only bell metal plate they had, for Rs200 in Khariyar. They borrowed some more money; all of which added up to Rs350. They bought a few hens, rice and other items and sacrificed a goat from their herd to prepare a grand feast for communities drawn from Conabira, Kalimaati, Komna Dargi, Sialati and Dharamsagar.
After the feast, all the members of Amru’s family had their heads tonsured. Milk was sprinkled on them to make them ‘pure’ and only then were they accepted back into the community. As if all this was not enough, the father, daughter and son-ill-law were fined Rs100. Such customs, born of superstition, abound among the tribals and condemn families like Amru’s to live in perpetual debt.
Exploitation
Mahulkot village, with a tribal population of 750, has had its share of drought and starvation deaths, but the inhabitants have learnt to live with them. Consecutive years of drought have forced them to seek work in Khariyar, 13 km away. They sell wood there or else travel to Raipur to pull rickshaws or work in farmhouses. Last year, the promise of more money, lured many of them to Andhra Pradesh to work in brick kilns. Among them was 14-year-old Bhagwan Maazhi, the only son of Gomti, a widow. Her husband had died of starvation three years ago.
Bhagwan left with great expectations last November, but returned six months later, heartbroken. According to him, the seth who had employed him and the others made them work ‘like animals’. Although their hands and feet were swollen and their bodies became weak, there was no reprieve. The earlier promise of Rs25 for every load of 1000 bricks dwindled to Rs 16. Most of the money went towards buying wheat from the local market, which, the workers found, was inedible. The language that the peoplein the area spoke was also unintelligible to them, adding to their woes. Sick of this miserable existence, many pleaded that they be sent back, but the seth paid no heed to their request.
With considerable difficulty, Bhagwan managed to return to his village, totally emaciated, with Rs20 in his pocket. “I would rather die of hunger in my village than ever go to Andhra,” was what Bhagwan said. He was echoing the sentiments of many from the village who had gone in search of greener pastures that proved a cruel mirage. Hemant Putel, his sister, Chanchala Putel and his mother, Met Putel, residents of Dhaaman Danga village, situated between Khariyar and Kantabanji, were also part of the exodus to Andhra Pradesh. They too went to a brick kiln, where they
were forced to put in long hours of work to pay off a loan ofRs2000 taken from the sardar. The punishing routine took its toll on their health.
When it was time to go back home, the three boarded an overcrowded compartment in a train bound for their village. On the way, mother Met had a severe attack of gastroenteritis and near Tumkunda station she stopped breathing. Both brother and sister could do nothing but cry.
When the train reached their destination, the miserable twosome was unable to take their mother’s body off the train – they did not have enough money to do that. And even if they had managed to take their mother’s body off the train with the help of some good Samaritans, the railway police would have harassed them and grabbed whatever money they had. A villager commented thus, “The railway police may take less money for a living person but they will take more money for the dead”. So Hemant and Chanchala had to abandon their mother’s body in the train.
Despite such privations, poverty drives the tribals to Andhra Pradesh every year. But for some, like Hemant, suffering with gastroenteritis after the ordeal, it will never again be Andhra.
The world of the tribals of Kalahandi region in Orissa is woven around superstitions and age-old customs – as is the case with most of their brethren elsewhere in the country. The strict social order and regulations that have governed their lives for generations are inexorable.
A recent incident which took place in Nuapada district’s Dharamsagar village, situated on the Khariyar-Rajpur Road, is an
apt example. Seventy-year-old Amru Guaal, his wife Niraasha Guaal, 60, his daughter, 20-year-old Pada, son-in-law, Srikar, 30 and his grandchild, Karnla, 8, are residents of Dharamsagar village. The Guaal family barely manages to survive on the wages of manual labour and often goes to bed hungry.
On the day of the incident, there was neither money nor food in the house, not an uncommon occurrence. Even so, a restless Srikar, hunger pangs gnawing at his stomach, asked his wife for food. When told that there was no food in the house, he asked for Rs20; that too, the wife said was not available. An incensed Srikar then took off his plastic slipper and started beating his wife with it. The father-in-law, who tried to intervene, also got beaten up with the slipper.
Later, when the village came to know of the incident, the Jhariya community – to which the Guaals belonged – ostracised Amru and his daughter Pada, because they were beaten by a plastic slipper! They were also prohibited from drawing water from the community well and from interacting with the community. When Amru remonstrated, he was told that their fault would be condoned if he held a feast for people drawn from various communities.
For Amru, already impoverished, the punishment was dreadful.But he had to obey the dictates of the community if he and other members of his family were to be accepted back into the community A helpless Amru and his wife then mortgaged the only bell metal plate they had, for Rs200 in Khariyar. They borrowed some more money; all of which added up to Rs350. They bought a few hens, rice and other items and sacrificed a goat from their herd to prepare a grand feast for communities drawn from Conabira, Kalimaati, Komna Dargi, Sialati and Dharamsagar.
After the feast, all the members of Amru’s family had their heads tonsured. Milk was sprinkled on them to make them ‘pure’ and only then were they accepted back into the community. As if all this was not enough, the father, daughter and son-ill-law were fined Rs100. Such customs, born of superstition, abound among the tribals and condemn families like Amru’s to live in perpetual debt.
Exploitation
Mahulkot village, with a tribal population of 750, has had its share of drought and starvation deaths, but the inhabitants have learnt to live with them. Consecutive years of drought have forced them to seek work in Khariyar, 13 km away. They sell wood there or else travel to Raipur to pull rickshaws or work in farmhouses. Last year, the promise of more money, lured many of them to Andhra Pradesh to work in brick kilns. Among them was 14-year-old Bhagwan Maazhi, the only son of Gomti, a widow. Her husband had died of starvation three years ago.
Bhagwan left with great expectations last November, but returned six months later, heartbroken. According to him, the seth who had employed him and the others made them work ‘like animals’. Although their hands and feet were swollen and their bodies became weak, there was no reprieve. The earlier promise of Rs25 for every load of 1000 bricks dwindled to Rs 16. Most of the money went towards buying wheat from the local market, which, the workers found, was inedible. The language that the peoplein the area spoke was also unintelligible to them, adding to their woes. Sick of this miserable existence, many pleaded that they be sent back, but the seth paid no heed to their request.
With considerable difficulty, Bhagwan managed to return to his village, totally emaciated, with Rs20 in his pocket. “I would rather die of hunger in my village than ever go to Andhra,” was what Bhagwan said. He was echoing the sentiments of many from the village who had gone in search of greener pastures that proved a cruel mirage. Hemant Putel, his sister, Chanchala Putel and his mother, Met Putel, residents of Dhaaman Danga village, situated between Khariyar and Kantabanji, were also part of the exodus to Andhra Pradesh. They too went to a brick kiln, where they
were forced to put in long hours of work to pay off a loan ofRs2000 taken from the sardar. The punishing routine took its toll on their health.
When it was time to go back home, the three boarded an overcrowded compartment in a train bound for their village. On the way, mother Met had a severe attack of gastroenteritis and near Tumkunda station she stopped breathing. Both brother and sister could do nothing but cry.
When the train reached their destination, the miserable twosome was unable to take their mother’s body off the train – they did not have enough money to do that. And even if they had managed to take their mother’s body off the train with the help of some good Samaritans, the railway police would have harassed them and grabbed whatever money they had. A villager commented thus, “The railway police may take less money for a living person but they will take more money for the dead”. So Hemant and Chanchala had to abandon their mother’s body in the train.
Despite such privations, poverty drives the tribals to Andhra Pradesh every year. But for some, like Hemant, suffering with gastroenteritis after the ordeal, it will never again be Andhra.
Caption: The TribaIs of Kalahandi
Language: English
Release Date: NA
Fellowship Year: 1997, National Media Award Programme, National Foundation for India
Language: English
Release Date: NA
Fellowship Year: 1997, National Media Award Programme, National Foundation for India
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