My First acquaintance with Pelicans &Tribals at Barachaka:1 Nov.2012

My First acquaintance with Pelicans &Tribals at Barachaka:1 Nov.2012

May 29, 2014 at 12:54pm

My First acquaintance withPelicans &Tribals at Barachaka:1 Nov.2012

  ( the matter was earlier posted in Development blog)


Yesterday, I came back from mynative village-Chhatna.  Every year I useto visit my beloved home during DurgaPuja festival. I repeated the same thisyear also. However, this trip is one of the rarest events in my life. It’s aspecial –a very special trip. Whenever I go to Chhatna I try to understand mynative place and its surroundings.  Atthe time of DurgaPuja I could meet different people of different places. Ifrequently enquire how tribal are going in the area. I also owe to my students,particularly Bishnu Mahato, Arun, Sekhar and others who are the son of Redlateriate areas. They always feed back me with interesting materials. This timeI owe my gratitude to Swaraj Mitra for his new searched materials. Basically heis a young promising poet and having bohemian nature.  Day before yesterday he requested me to visitBarachaka to see thousands and thousands migratory birds at the village. Sooner,I showed my interest in it and started to reach there.



At around 2.00 p.m. we startedfrom home. I was passing through my known places and came to Sarberia village.After a long gap I was moving on the route. There have been changes. The roadis now fine.  Only the thing I missed isthe greens of fields. The wave of conversion of agricultural land to domesticuses is on – big trees are no where on the road sides. Susuniahill which wastransparent from Sarberia   is not sovisible with natural outlook.  There hasbeen Hospital, Schools, shops .markets at Sarberia.  It is competing with Chatna in terms oftrade, business and other matters. How time sets a change I could understandwhile I pass through Sarberia-a small village five k.m. far from Chhatna town.The metallic road ended. We crossed Sarberia. I got the zig-zag kuccha road. The iron-colored road has its ownbeauty.  We moved and moved. Thanks toGod. Nature  has not been lost.  Bushes are there. Mahua trees are in theirerect position.  I plucked jungle-berryafter a four decades. The land was steep and undulating. Big chunks of rocksare here and there. Nature has made the place most scenic .  At the end we came to Barachaka- my dreamedplace from the first hearing.



Barachaka is the mouza having twoadjoining villages. Kuchlaghuta and Khajara are two components of it.  Tribal (Santhals) are living here from timeimmemorial.  They are living amidstforests- trees represent their life. Kuchlaghutu is a mini-reservoir ofbio-diversity.  I learnt how they lovetrees-forests and nature. They do not cut trees. Mahua trees are never cut downby their custom.  A sanctuary coveredwith different trees is maintained. They worship the place and feel Marang Buru(God).  Many kinds of medicinal plantsare there.


Look- look  shouted by Sawaraj. I was astonished to seeducks of exotic are at the top of trees. I forgot to bring camera. I could notphotographed the scene. Prankrishna Tudu-a tribal youth cordially called us. Swaraj is visiting the place formore than three years. He is well known to all of them. Tudus home is adjacentto the mini-forest. We sat on a cot. Then his father joined he is a old fellow of eighty years but active.Then his wife came and chatted.



I came to know that for than fourdecades these exotic birds are coming here. Without any break the birds arrivehere at the onset of monsoon.  Thousandsand thousands come and take shelters in tameric (Tetul), Charra, Pua, kusum,Akhura and Dhagach trees. The old fellow was recollecting the first arrival ofthose birds.  At that time tribalexperienced consecutive droughts. However, after their arrival they got goodrains. They thought these birds are ambassador of God.  At the first arrival, birds snatched theirheart. They began to  refer them as  friends. This belief is still in their heart.



The old lady of seventies said’ we wait eagerly  for them. If they come we prepare forsowing.  If they are late monsoon is alsolate’.

“ How long do they stay”?

-“ They stay till the air becomes cold.  If they go we get the on-set of winter”



They have traditionally built up a nature based sensor.Scientists will explain this.



Swaraj was telling about theircomfort with those beloved birds. They never kill them. No poacher can enter inthe village. In recent past they chased a few unknowns seemed to catch them.According to Swaraj, every villager be old or child takes care of them. For sixmonths these birds are their honored guests. These birds make their nests intrees, lay eggs and care new babies till they become independent.  At least four months required from to egg toadult form.  Till babies are fully grownup mothers take rigorous care for their food etc.



I asked them what local name ofthese migratory birds is. The old fellow replied” we used to call them Saras-intially.However we call them GHUGAN”.



There are big tanks, bunds aroundthe village. Adult birds use to come in those water bodies; they usually catchfish and snails. I am surprised to know that villagers do not catch fish in thetanks so that remain unfed.  A strongbondage between nature and human being can only make such sense.

I salute to Barchaka-tribal. 

The place can be a tourist spotfor nature lessons.





Pelicans at Barachaka

Budhni -the forgotten Tribal guy

 

Budhni Mejan- a tribal teenager in her fifteen reached the dais. There were all VIPs. In the middle there was none other than Nehuruji- the then Prime Minister. Budhni was different that moment, she was quite confident and looking anew in her tribal outfit. Her face was dazzling and attractive. Indeed, she stood for future India and aspirations of millions. Shortly, DVC (Damodar Valley Corporation) would be opened with much expectation. The mega project would deliver water in dry tracts Bengal. Farmers would harvest more & more. The beginning was ready. Unnerved Budhni , in her pretty attire , glazing look and deep eyes marched smartly. She put visible red-tika(red-mark) on the forehead of the Prime Minister. Thereafter, she garlanded him. Nehuruji touched her with affection. . Snooer a loud voice waved and mesmerized the mass. Nehuriji wanted Budhni to inaugurate DVC . A history was seeded in the world. A tribal, indigenous guy was going to open the greatest Dam. At the climax, Buttom pushed the bottom. All clapped. India as well as the world saw a history. The climax went on. Budhni was addressing the mass in in her language. All understood what she had spoken with out knowing santhali.
We saw another history when Budhni returned home. Khap Panchayat (local community administration) had called an open meeting. Charges were leveled against Budhni. Leaders said Budhni had violated customs, traditions and culture of tribal community. The serious charge was that Budhni garlanded Nehuriji. All participants unanimously agreed to outcast her. Karbona-the home & abode of Budhni rejected her. Budhni cried out but Khap rule prevailed. With pain & sorrow she left her adorned village. She was alone. She moved here & there no body gave her shelter. Later, Sudhir Datta an employee of DVC accepted her & married. Surprisingly, urbanized DVC people were more apathy to her. She was sacked from service with out any reason. Days passed off, Budhni was forgotton, but she never forgot her home. She tried again and again to live in her soil. Pitifully she was refused every time. The unruly males negated her inner voice. Budhni lost her village, lost her job and lost sympathy from others. At the age of 58 she brought her case to the notice of Rajib Gandhi-the grandson of Nehuru occupying the chair of Prime minister. Rajibji listened to her and directed to DVC officials to reinstate her. Budhni won the battle in the context of employment but failed to get her own soil. I searched Budhni fervently. I could not meet. Last month I met many tribal of her area. I told them about her. No body recognized her name. However, suddenly I got news from internet Budhni left the world.

Firkal----A Decaying Tribal Warrior Dance

Those days are over, Firkal- a traditional dance of Bhumij tribe is not heard any more any where in Ajodhya hill tracts. Old tribal  only retrieve their past memories. They say Firkal was a colorful event to them , specifically  on the day of Akhan jatra.  Akhan Jatra is the first day of Mundari almanac.  Earlier,on that  day Bhumijs used   propitiate their Goddess,local deities and took blessings for the dance.
Firkal is basically  a folk-dance of  showing the power of  Bhumij under odds. Needless, this dance is male oriented and a martial art  from time immemorial.  No history,documents are there relating to its origin.The main instruments of Firkal  are swords, arrows, bows and shields. The themes of the dance correspond to their livelihood  styles.  Manik Majhi - an old resident of Silli adjacent to Baghmundi said " In firkal dance, we used to wear traditional attires made of  leaves woven by the family members, dancers use  to paint their  body with natural colors, heads were covered by turbans  and tied with peacock's  feathers,  they all  used to assemble in the Akhra to perform the hunting dance . It was a collective dance, symbolizing the collective hunting process. The dance used to get its high pitch with the beating of Dhols and Madals. In fact how wild animals were haunted in the dense jungles, how did we capture wild animals and did we come back home with animals for feast were displayed through the dance."
Another fellow, Gobinda Sing uttered " We were the warrior of Chotonagpur plateau. Fighting with invaders or Dikus were always there. Thus, the glory of our bravery were represented through Firkal. We used to show our strength to the generation through our bravery actions.".

Spectrum,Sunday, November 20, 2011 mentioned

 "firkal is very much a living art form. It is a martial dance performed by the Bhumij tribes of the Chhota Nagpur area in Jharkhand and is much older than kalaripayattu and other martial art forms like that of Manipur, and even those whose origins can be traced to China and Japan.

The only distressing part is that firkal survives in just one obscure village, Janumdih, of Potka block in East Singhbhum district of Jharkhand. No more than 25 Bhumij families are holding on to it, little knowing that after them, there will be nobody to take the tradition forward."

 Firkal, even though an endangered tribal art form, has received very little support or encouragement from any quarter. With the number of families performing it dwindling, the art could very well have become extinct by now. Says Amitabh Ghosh of TCCAF: "Unlike other martial art forms in the country, Firkal did not receive any help or patronage. Gradually, with the passage of time, it virtually died for want of resources."

IND-Festival--A dying folk festival of Manbhum

It is the beginning of Bhadra-month in Bengali calender. Up land rice in the hilly areas is ready for harvest.  Bhumij- a tribe of  early settler in Chotonagpur plateau  who are  in numbers in Baghmuni, Barabhum, Manbazar and other parts of Purulia would celebrate festivals in sequence. They will perform age long Karam first followed by an another colorful occasion named InD.  The air will be bustled with folk-songs:
" Ind tanre eind othe
Chata tanre chata othe
Ogo kasi tanre basir sabdo"

The ind-flag  is raised in the ind-ground, umbrella is raised in the chata tanre, flutes are ringing in the banks of Kasai0river.  In the Bhumij dominated areas there are specific grounds marked for ind-festival as well as chata0festival.  On the 11th day of Bhadra, immediate after the Karam festival, ind starts and it is one day event.
There is no history or documents witnessing the start of this festival. Again, there are different opinions on the ind-concept across places.
According to someone, the term ind means " My festival" in Mundari language, It is the festival of celebrating coronation of the king. Chotonagpur was ruled by Munda0tribe long long back. Mangra Munda was a powerful king . When he became too aged ,he desired  to relinquish his chair, and wanted to make Mani Mukut as the successor. On the very day, a royal procession participated by his subjects met in an open ground.  A white umbrella symbolizing  the crown was raised far above amidst chanting,music and merry dancing.  To memorize the historical event, the tribal celebrate ind.. This type of observing is still in vogue in Jharkhand where Mundas dominate. It is now a state level festival in Jharkhand.
Another version is ,ind connotes the name of Debraj Indra, the deity of  clouds and rains, On this day people assemble and seek the blessings of Indra for good rain  for good harvest.  As now, indra puja is done during ind-festival ,the event has become universal and not limited to any particular sect.Both tribal and non-tribal participate in ind-program.
In course of time, Ind festival got patronage from kings,chiefs, zamindars etc. In khatra, on this day a log of sal is erected traditionally by the Raj0family. The sacred sal is worshipped in the name of Lord Indra. Thereafter, a white flag is hoisted. The white flag symbolizes the tradition of raj0tantra. Worshiping  Indra is still now performed by the raj0family of Jhargram.
Similarly, in Barabhum of purulia Ind is celebrated in a majestic way.
In Baghmundi, there is ind-tare where festival is held at matha. In kalimati, there are the clans of Dolgobinda Sing, dinabandhu Sing who represented as powerful Mankis. Mankis were the Zamindars of 12 mouzas or villages. Now Mankis have lost their Zamindari  but did not lose their dignity. The inherited clan still hoists flags and worship lord indra.  It may be mentioned here that the umbrella is raised in convex-shape. This is in contrast to Chata parab where umbrella is raised in normal form by the King.  This is to me a submission to the King  by the Mankis who were subordinates to the King.

However, people of manbhum waits for the the day. This reminds the popular adage :

, " রুয়াঁই খুজে বাতাশ অার, নাড়ায় খুজে ইন্দ।" 

fragments of cotton are floated by air, similarly  the poor floats in Ind.

ind is the merry day to manbhum residents.

The Unsung & Unread Story

I have fallen in love with date-palm & toddy palms. This is not an accidental  love rather a process of knowing  palms  years  after years  while stepping in Paschimanchal.  During winter I saw date-palm’s softness -  Neera the drink which she gives has a magical charm refreshing both mind and heart. I love  gur-made from its sap. The smell of it is its own copy-right, nothing can substitute the sweet flavour.  I look at the crowns of date-palms in summer.. they stood with green-smile amidst heat . On the other, no plants are parallel to toddy in terms of highness and beauty. Toddy’s sap during summer or its ice-apple fruits are summer special items. However, both the plants are tied with the livelihood of marginalized people. Food,feed,fuel and crafts  from them signify their contribution. Many people are dependent on their sacrifice. The Sewli or Gachis  regard them  gifts of almighty.

In search of the depth and breadth of palms I had come across many who are close to the plants. Recently ,I found a person who is a strong devotee to date palms. He hails from Asannagar,Nadia. Although his name is Sukanta Malakar but people say he is Khejur Malakar.  The person has been  trying best to promote date-palms through his organization named Rural Initiatives.  Recently I met him and heard his experience. On way of discussion ,he told me a heart piercing story of gachis-the sap collectors. Let me share it today.

Prallahad and Hirnomoy Biswas are two brothers of a remote village in Asannagar. They are efficient tree climbers. Each of them can climb 70-80 date-trees a day. They collect sap and transform it to Jaggery in traditional way. Date-palm is the means of living of them. However, it was sometimes back, Prallahd fixed a date for wedding of his daughter.  The day was drawing nearer. On a morning Pralladhs wife appealed to him”  Oh..have you arranged money? Do u know what is required at this moment. I ‘ve mortgaged what ornaments I had..”

Prallahd replied “ Dear..don’t worry.. gur-price is now at high.. I ‘ve prepared fine gur this time..I will sell it ..my fifty pots will give at least 25-thousands,”

Next day, both brothers cart-loaded their gurs and reached the market travelling 3-kms.  They shouted for  sale.. No response came from buyers.. They waited for three hours nobody reached to their spot. Hirmoy smelt something hissy. He asked his bother to quote the price at 120 instead Rs150.. Again there was silence... They waited and  began to lower prices by Rs 10-20 in every two hours.  The last price they quoted 60 per kg.  Again fruitless.. no body came. It is about 4 p.m. they returned back with broken heart. Prallahd was upset ,he fell down when he reached home. Neighbourers surrounded his home. That time Sukanta Malakar reached there. He understood the plight. He agreed to bye the whole lot at a price of Rs.100.00 kg.

Pralhhad fell down at the feet of Malakar.. a saviour of date-palm gachis. I saw a drop of tears while Malakar was narrating the story. After the incident, Malakar started Rural Initiatives to rescue the the poor gachis. My hats off to him.