UGC STRIDE Component-1 Sponsored

6-Day Online Guest Lecture

Organized by

NIRMALA COLLEGE and AMITY UNIVERSITY

TRIBAL CULTURE LANGUAGE AND

PRACTICES : AN ECOFEMISM
PERSPECTIVE
5TH -10TH July 2021
REFLECTIONS OF ECOFEMINISM IN WRITINGS BY
TRIBAL WOMEN OF JHARKHAND

Dr. Eva Margaret Hansdak’

Assistant Professor (Senior Scale)
Head – Dept of English, Gossner College Ranchi
hansdakeva@gmail.com
Ph 7320070991
 Jharkhand overview
• Jharkhand is a state with rich forest resources approx 30% of
forest cover.
• It has 40 % of the country’s mineral resources – iron, bauxite,
copper, coal, mica, uranium, manganese, nickel, dolomite,
graphite ...
• Numerous rivers arise from the Chotanagpur plateau region
and it has abundant water resources..
• Over 27% of tribal constitute the total population – mostly
living in the forests and the hills. Theirs is predominantly a
forest based economy.
• Human resources abundant. Destination for all labour
contractors from across India.
 Status of Tribal languages in Jharkhand
There are 32 Tribal Groups in Jharkhand

As per the UNESCO list of Endangered Languages of the

World the following tribal languages of Jharkhand
have been identified as endangered languages:

• Critically Endangered – Birhor (01 language)

• Definitely Endangered – Asur, Malto (02 languages)
• Vulnerable - Ho, Kharia, Koda, Kurukh, Mundari, Korwa,
Birjiya (7 languages)
 Status of Tribal Literature
• Academic degrees up to Post Doctoral level is available in
Language and Literature courses for five tribal languages in
Ranchi University.
• A few other state Universities offer academic courses in one,
two or three languages.
• These languages and a few others have a decent amount
written literature and the corpus continues to grow due to
academic support. Even then the bulk of their literature
remains in oral forms.
• For the rest of the languages almost all of their literature
exists in Oral forms.
 My Disclosures
• I have referred to selected literature by women belonging to five
tribal groups of Jharkhand.
• I have referred only to literature available in the form of published
writings by contemporary tribal writers.
• Most of the poems and stories were written in Hindi, Some works
were composed in tribal languages and had pre-translations in
Hindi. Bulk of tribal literature of Jharkhand exists in oral forms
which I have not used for this lecture.
• All English translations used here are by me. This is the first draft of
poems (need refining). Most readings used here are only extracts
from much longer poems – reading of full poem is recommended.
• (Jacinta Kerketta’s poems have already been translated and published. This
translation is only for the purpose of this lecture series as I have misplaced Jacinta’s
books and cannot purchase new ones at short notice. You are advised to read her
original translations)
 Sushma Asur
• Belongs to the Asur tribe
• Writes in the Asuri language (Definitely endangered language)
• Educated up to 12th standard
• Her association with Jharkhandi Bhasha Sahitya Akhra and
Vandana Tete played a vital role in her development as writer.
• Writes poems. Translated her own poems.
• Her published work Asur Sereng (2010) is the first written
work of Asuri literature.
• Engaged in documenting oral literature and traditions of Asuri
tribes.
 The Hill That Was Home has Vanished
(Pahad ka Ghar Khatam Ho Gaya)
Sushma Asur

The hill is crying There is no place for them

The river is sobbing
All the springs of Jharkhand are
wailing
The Earth and the Hills are all
lamenting
All Asur tribes are weeping.
 
No water in the springs
No flowers and fruits in the hills
No water to flow in the rivers.
The tiger, monkey, bear, fox
Snake, elephant, rabbit, birds
The hill that was home has
vanished
And when no language is left
How do we hold our festival of
songs?
 
We were the first smelters of iron
Now companies use the same
iron
To plunder the earth, bleeding
her
Killing her using that very metal
All Asur tribes are weeping.
 How Many Days
(Kitne Din)
Sushma Asur
How many days will money last
Earned from selling land?
How much longer will you split stones?
Why are you smashing up fields of granite?
You are destroying the
Intestines of your own stomach
Annihilating yourselves

Tomorrow not a thing will be left

Not even your language to lament in
On whose shoulder will you rest your head to cry?
The hills will all be prostrate
Stretched out in the cities bound in coal tar
Being crushed every minute
By numerous vehicles of the latest fancy models.
 We will Surely Survive Like the Unswerving Plateau
(Hum jaroor jiyenge Hi Pathaar Ki Tarah Nidar)
Sushma Asur

O! Ancestors of the earth, ancestors of the sky
Mothers and fathers, O! Asur patriarchs and
matriarchs
The forest was responsible for feeding you
The fields were accountable for paying you for
your labour
This plateau extending from here to there was
your school
The hills and springs guided you in your paths ….
But when the company arrives dhum-dhum
And the sarkar turns our life into hell
Whom do we call out to?
Upon whose bosom do we seek refuge? ….
We will learn to speak like you
We will learn to dance like you
We will hunt just like you
All those animals
Who are digging up our Asur homes
Those who are enticing all our springs
Who are addicted to devouring the earth and
humans.
We will surely survive just like you
Like the plateau, assured and unswerving
In this Asur land founded by you.
 Grace Kujur
• Belongs to Oraon tribe (Language Kurukh -vulnerable)
• Writes in Hindi
• Worked in All India Radio as Director at Ranchi, Patna,
Bhagalpur and Delhi.
• Has published poems in many journals and
anthologies. Has not published any collection till now.
• Has written over forty poems, some radio-dramas and
skits.
• Writes poems reflecting deep concern for nature
 Once More A Jani Shikar
(Ek Aur Jani Shikar)
Grace Kujur
Where is that futkal tree Even the datum twigs
Where I would climb to pluck saag Now grow twisted.
And I would sing for you
The songs of Fagua And if
Even now the fingers of your hands
Where is the sweet smell of Tremble !
Mahua and dori Then you should know that
Of the gular and the keond I will once again become
Where is the music of the bamboos lost ‘Signi Dai’
And I don’t know where the I will bind my forehead with a scarf
perfume of sandhana is lost now. And once again the knot
Of my betra will tighten
Who has punched holes And once again in Jharkhand
In sakhua leaves Will you witness
How will I stitch its leaves A forceful jani-shikar.
How will I sew donas and pattals
 The Wait (Prateeksha)
Why are you quiet Sangi
Why don’t you say something!
In spite of the fire
Burning latent in the deepest coal
Inside the earth under your feet,
Why is your body so cold?
 
The lengths of copper wires
Trailing in the vast plains
Of Jharkhand.
Does not the water of this iron rich land
Run in your veins?
In spite of drinking it
You are blown off with the slightest wind.
Assam, Bhutan, brick kilns
And to cities.
 
Beneath the milky light of the thermal powers
And
The magical halo of Jadugoda
Grace Kujur
You carry a dim karanj oil lamp,
In what darkness of your mind
Are you wandering around Sangi ?
Into the hands of which
Masterminds have you mortgaged
The equation of life in sal forests
Without jal, jungle and jameen, Sangi?
Peeping out of their tree hollows
Even parrots in the sal forest
Are enquiring
About their own existence
And are waiting for your answer.
Sangi
I still remain here standing
Like a lone sal tree
Standing on a rock
Which quietly continues to draw
Its share of water.
 Fire
(Aag)
Grace Kujur
In the form of compassionate appointment At every blast with alacrity she handles
‘Etwariya Orain’ The steering wheel of the shovel
Does not want Scoops up tonnes of coal
To serve water to the office babus And feeds the in-pit crusher
Or bring them tea Etwariya –
Nor does she want Cannot hear the tinkle
To carry files for officers. Of her own bangles
  Cannot fix the bindi in its place
On the office lawns Her forehead is damp with sweat.
Her head bowed and veiled She watches
She does not want to plant The small pieces of coal
Green dub-grass Emerging from the in-pit
Nor does she want Carried on the conveyer belt
A job layoff. And reflects
  Once she too was whole.
 Flowing Against the Current
(Dhar ke Vipreet)
Grace Kujur

Why does it so happen A strong stream contrary in direction

That in the fields of the village kaki
Nobody pulls a plough?
And from the fractured roof of her house
On rainy days
The water trickles in
Jhar, jhar, jhar …
 
But yesterday it rained vigorously
To the flow of waters in rivers and drains
Up to her courtyard.
 
‘No right to climb the roof’
In spite of knowing this
Kaki climbs up
To patch the roof …
 Vandana Tete
• Belongs to Kharia tribe (Language Kharia – Vulnerable)
• Daughter of writer Dr. Rose Kerketta. Grand-daughter of the first
generation Kharia writer Pyara Kerketta.
• Writes in Hindi
• Education up to Post Graduation.
• Activist, Poet, Editor, Translator, Publisher, Critic, Documenter, Motivator,
Mentor for upcoming tribal writers.
• Was editor of multiple journals in Rajasthan and Jharkhand
• Has published 7 books and anthologies of tribal poetry and stories each.
• Writes poems reflecting deep concern for nature, tribal issues.
• Championed the cause of tribal languages with the government for official
status.
• Editor of the prestigious ‘Akhra’ a journal for tribal writings.
 Who Are You?
(Tum Kaun Ho)
You are burnt
Like Rupkunwar
Society murders you
When you choose to love
Using the hot cage of tradition
Your eyes are blinded
And when you tongue speaks out
You are branded characterless.
 
When will you revolt against this
biased judgment?
How long will you remain
Rupkunwar?
How long will you suffer
Their dictat that you be royal
courtesan?
Vandana Tete
And the animal hunger of tradition
For how long?
And for how long
Will you submit your bleeding body?
If you are Sita, Ahilya, Draupadi and
Rupkunwar then
You also are
Signi-Kaili, Phulo-Jhano, Maki
You are Soni Sori as well
You are human
Besides being many other things.
 The River of Poems
(Kavitaon Wali Nadi)
Vandana Tete

The river of poems has begun to dry up

The hill of music is bare
The mines of Hindalco have quarried the fields of Jutangi
Ponds have dried up
Clouds avoid meeting eyes with the hills
And the air travelling through the forest
Has forgotten to hum and soothe.
Only whispers
I can’t fathom what it says
But the heart sinks into cavernous pit of doubts.
And the longing to submerge in the river of poetry
Under rifle-butts and boots
Keeps groaning
Day and night.
 Pyari Tuti
• Belongs to the Munda tribe
• Writes in Mundari language. (language status -Vulnerable)
• Wife of well known Mundari poet – Dulay Chandra Munda.
• Completed her education beyond standard 10 after being
widowed with four children. Educated up to MA, B.Ed.
• Published a few poems in the magazine Adivasi and
appeared in Akashvani in initial stages of her writing.
• Took up writing seriously only after retirement and has now
a decent collection of poems to her credit.
 Environment
(Paryavaran)
Pyari Tuti

O Hill God/Deity Played in the stream of the river

O Mother River
O King Jungle
The Hills are crushed
River has dried up
Jungle has been cut down
Whom shall I worship
Where shall I quench my thirst
Whom shall I serve
 
I was sheltered by the forest
Was nourished by fruits of the
forest.
The direction of the wind has
changed
The flow of the river has been
stemmed
The jungle has become desolate
 
I have been orphaned
I have become thirsty
I have been left hungry.
 Yashoda Murmu
• Belongs to the Santal (Santhal) tribe from Singhbhum.
• Writes in Santali
• MA in Santali
• Employed in Punjab and Sind Bank and lives in Kolkata.+
• Writes stories and poetry
• Has published 2 books in Santali
• Associated with All India Santal Writers Association.
• Was member of Santali Advisory Board of Sahitya Akademi
between 2008 – 2012.
• Writings express deep anguish over the plight of Tribal people,
nature and women.
 Whither is Woman in Liberated India
(Swadhin Bharat me Kahan Hai Nari ka Sthan)
Yashoda Murmu

An endless saga
Which does not cease here
Yet again witnessed
In Birbhum of Bengal
Judged by the Panch and
Sunita Murmu is stripped naked.
And arises yet again
The question in the mind
Whither is woman in liberated India.
 The Trees and Stones are Weeping
(Ro Rahe Hain Ped aur Pathhar)
Yashoda Murmu

Visiting Dumka district  

I met
Our own people
Restless all yet they are mute
But the trees and stones are crying.
 
I asked the wind
And received a faint reply
Trees and stones were once kings and
queens here
Now dominates high-handedness of
others.
Bulldozers employed to crush
The massive stones
In no time the granite pulverized and
powdered
And by and by in dust
The verdant greenery is enveloped.
Like humans and stones
Even the trees too have surrendered.
 Jacinta Kerketta
• Belongs to the Oraon tribe (Language Kurukh – Vulnerable)
• Writes in Hindi and English.
• Graduate in Mass Communication.
• A poet, translator and journalist.
• Has published her essays and poems in local dailies and has also appeared on
AIR for over 10 years.
• Has published two bilingual collection of poems.
• Has international presence as a writer and has received multiple awards in
India and abroad.
• Poetry expresses her anger at injustices against adivasi communities and revolt
against structures created by man.
• Concerns about lack of equality between man and woman.
(Jacinta Kerketta’s poems have already been translated and published. This translation is only for
the purpose of this lecture series as I have misplaced Jacinta’s books and cannot purchase new
ones at short notice. You are advised to read her original translations)
 The Mystery of Innumerable Bamboos Sprouted on Hills
(Pahadon Par Uge Asankhya Banso ka Rahasya)
I was sleeping in Kuruwa
When abruptly the earth started trembling
I saw a chunk of land
Caught in the jaws of a JCB machine
Along with my piece of land
I myself was dangling from the machine
And then I experienced
The agony of being uprooted along with one’s
land.
 
I saw the bodies of my ancestors
How they were being
Chopped into little pieces
And every one of those pieces
Was auctioned for crores
The crowd of buyers
A town had sprung up below
And I felt as if every limb of my own body
Jacinta Kerketta
Was butchered and sold off.
My eyes, my heart, my all.
 
I saw from atop of hills
The future of my generations to come
Selling bamboos in market places
And the instant I was free from the machine’s
grip
I picked up a bamboo
This time these bamboos will not visit the
market
Bamboo in the jungle will now
Be shaped into bows and arrows for every
hand
And then
For the first time I understood
The mystery of innumerable bamboos
Growing on hills
 Why This Discrimination
(Kaisa Bhed)
I still remember
That dark night
When my mother had come home
After purchasing new clothes
For me
Upon entering the house she was
Hit, a strong blow to her chest
Those new clothes
That she had bought for me
She had clutched as she moaned
Her crime was
She had gone to the bazaar
And purchased clothes for daughter
Jacinta Kerketta
Before the son
Every time my mother was insulted,
abused
I have seen her broken
And after every upheaval found
myself
Gathering together all
The little pieces of shattered glass.
It is assumed in Adivasi society
There is no discrimination between
boy and girl
Then I ponder over and again
What the influence, whose influence
That is creating somewhere
A hole in in our traditions.
 Ujjwala Jyoti Tigga
• Belongs to the Oraon tribe (Language Kurukh –
vulnerable)
• Writes in Hindi and English
• Brought up in Delhi and Educated in JNU
• Employed in Delhi
• Started publishing writings in magazines in 1984
• Also writes in four Blogs in English and Hindi
• Writes poems reflecting deep concern for the
people, forests and land of Jharkhand.
 The Band of Hunters Now Arrive
(Shikari Dal Ab Aate Hain)
Ujjwala Jyoti Tigga

The band of hunters they now arrive
Disguised as rabbits
To the jungles
And invited to their gatherings
The lions, bears and elephants
Living there and
Brainwashed them
Coached them, coaxed them
That just like others
‘Development’ was
Their birthright too …
 
In the name of new model of
‘development’
They make false promises
That how the old and nondescript jungles
May also receive a face lift
Lying in a corner
That lonely neglected forest too
May become a world-class national park
Where there will be
All glamorous world-class facilities
Be patronized by foreign tourists
And how sitting at home will be fattened
Numerous generations of the
Lion, bear and the elephant.
 The Jungle will Return as Cheetah
(Jungle Cheeta Ban Lautega)
Ujjwalata Jyoti Tigga

How long will the forest remain The pain of the forest will now
silent Burst out like a sea of flames
How long in the flames of its Upon people sleeping peacefully
agony
Will befall and wreck havoc
Will it burn and
The flood of its tears
With its helpless tears
Will become boiling lava
Irrigate dreams of greenery
And where there was greenery
And remain immersed in the tiny
paradise Will only be seen barren deserts.
Of its intrinsic self.
 
But this time the tears of the
forest
Will not flow in vain
 Nirmala Putul
• Belongs to Santal (Santhal) tribe. From Santhal Parganas.
• Writes in Santali.
• Trained as a professional nurse.
• Had to face struggles for an education.
• She has published two highly acclaimed collections of poems. Both
of these have been translated into Hindi.
• Translations of her works have been published in many Hindi dailies
of the country.
• Poems are about tribal - outsider encounter, exploitation,
dispossession, bonds with nature, weaknesses within the tribal
society.
• Focus mainly on feminist concerns
 Anguish of Forests, Rivers, Hills and the Lonely Old Earth
(Jungle, Nadi, Pahad aur Gumsum Budhi Prithvi ka Dukh)
Nirmala Putul

Have you ever heard Have you ever heard

The shrieking of trees, in nightmares
Terrified of the shining axes?
 
Enduring pain of the axe
On branches of the trembling tree
Have you ever noticed
Thousands of hands calling for help?
Do you feel anything inside of you
When with a resounding thud
Some felled tree crashes down upon the
earth?
In the stillness of night
Covering her mouth in darkness
How the river weeps?
 
On this riverbank washing clothes and
animals
Have you ever thought that on the other
bank
Some thirsty soul might be taking a drink
Or some woman might be pouring
reverently
In worship of a spirit.
cont/-
-/cont
Have you ever perceived
trembling
Within the bosom of a hill that
appears
To sit still like a grave,
When with the sound of blasts
Its stones are flung far-off?
 
Have you ever heard
In the mid-day noon hour
Smashed to pieces with a
hammer
The screams of scattering stones?
 
Spewing blood
Have you ever seen the wind
At the rear your house?
 
From all the rushing around of life
Have you ever stolen a little bit of
time
Have you ever discussed
Her grief with the old earth who
remains silent?
 
If not
Then forgive me
I have doubts if you are a human
at all.
 The Woman of the Hills
(Pahadi Stree)
Nirmala Putul
There she is The hill like constraints and obstructions.
Carrying a load of dried wood on her head  
Descending from a hill Weaving mats in the forest
The woman of the hills She conquers her mountainous day.
She will hurry to the market  
To sell all her wood Weaving grass brooms she creates
And quench the hunger flames of her A weapon to fight dirt
family  
  She tucks a flower in her hair knot
Child tied in a cloth She tucks away somebody’s heart.
Secure on her back  
Planting rice, the woman of the hills Her two feet chasing after cows-goats
Planting her mountainous grief She decorates upon this earth
For the one pleasure of Hundreds of virgin dreams.
Swaying crops.
 
On the hills she smashes stones, she also
 Francisca Kujur
• Belongs to the Oraon tribe.
• She is a bilingual writer and writes in Kurukh (Language of Oraon
tribe – Vulnerable) and Hindi. Also a translator.
• Worked in order to finance her education.
• Educated up to MA, Ph.D. in History. Completed her LLB as well.
• Employed as an Assistant Professor in Sri R. K. Mahila College,
Giridih.
• Her poems have been published in various journals and
anthologies
• She has published over nine books in Kurukh and Hindi. She has
translated a collection of poems by Vidya Bhushan from Hindi to
Kurukh.
• Her stories and poems have been broadcast regularly on AIR
Ranchi and Hazaribagh
• Her main concerns are the Tribal society and the Kurukh language.
 Daughter of the Hills
(Pahad Ki Beti)
Francesca Kujur
In the valley of hills high and low Mimics the koel’s call
Her infant brother bundled secure on her back Sucks sweet nectar of mango flowers
Carefree she plays the little companion of nature Collects firewood, sews leaf cup -plates, brooms
Sprinting and chasing after cattle Planting acquaintance in the hills
The lively spirit so tender When daylight ebbs she descents carrying her spoils
to the village
Behind the hills
  Daughter of the forest

Amla, mahua, fruits, flowers and tubers
She eats to quench hunger
Drinks from springs when thirsty
Plucks leaves and datwan, collects fruits, flowers and
mushrooms
Daughter of the hills
 
Gazing at her reflection in the river waters
Shaping mud houses, winnows sand and plays
Her enchanting laughter like the breeze of spring
When tired she sleeps fearless
Beneath the tree, her brother cuddled close
Daughter of the hills
In quest of money she goes to the market miles away
On foot, bus and sometimes train
Shoved and jostled, abused
Sells her goods for a pittance
Daughter of the forest
 
Shivering in winter she stretches her limbs in the sun
Drenched during rains and scorched in the summer
sun
Seeks happiness in rocks, stones and dust
Whispers her sorrows to plants and trees
Perceives them as her closest kinsmen
Daughter of the forest

 
 Critical comments on Eco-feminism by Vandana Tete
Excerpts translated from ‘Introduction’ of Kavi Man Jani Man*
(edited by - Vandana Tete)

Dhyan rakhna hi hoga … bimari hai.

We need to take into consideration that the foundation of the Adivasi woman’s world
is on a different plane. It is erected on the philosophy of tribalism (Adivasiyat) whose
basic nature is egalitarian, where there exists no discrimination created by man or
any power, other than the discrimination designed by nature. There are a few
restrictions but adivasi women are never imprisoned by any feudal brutalities or forts
of any religious magniloquence. There exists no male dominance in the tribal society
and as a result there is no feminism as well. If adivasi women are resorting to writing
about harassment/exploitation by men, then it is because of a malady by the name
of ‘development’ . Before any contact with ‘civilization’ there was no such concept as
male dominance to be found in adivasi social arrangements. This book is a necessary
undertaking to bring to fore the feelings and anguish, concerns, aesthetic sense and
physical world of the adivasi woman. So that the society and literature which calls
itself ‘mainstream’ may understand that writings by tribal women is an
indistinguishable part of their very existence, which is a collective concern.
Cont/-
*Anthology of Poems written by Tribal Women of Jharkhand
-/cont

Pahadi nadi ki tarah … unka lekhan hai.

Restless like the rivulet from the hills, placid like the lake, strong stoic nucleus of the house,
or akin to the economic-cultural-nutritionally valuable mahua, she is the backbone of her
community. Her writings are just like her, with no twists, turns or camouflages. Simple and
straightforward as from her fields and courtyards, hills and forests she forages, spreads out,
converses and shares.

Sawal hai, vikas kiska … seekh de raha hai.

The question is, whose development – and in what manner? Which world-view? A cultural
value system based on the aesthetics of hate, discrimination and plunder or a cultural value
system which favours human dignity? It is a curious fact that the earth and woman, both are
divided on the basis of colour, race, religion, gender and caste by that Indian society and
literature that calls itself the ‘mainstream’ - and it teaches lessons of humanity to the
egalitarian adivasi society.

Parantu uski soch ka dayra … bhavishya ko betrati hai.

But the circle of her concern is the adivasi world. Those concerns which are about all
changes, complications, problems taking place in the society. She knows that the impact and
assault of external influences is not only borne by the society, but that children and women
are its first victims. Because it is always the adivasi women who have cherished and carried
the burden of the future secure on their backs.
Full poems are available here :
Full poems are available here :
Full poems are available here :
 Books available at
• Good Books, Main Road Ranchi
• Satya Bharti, Purulia Road, Ranchi
• Jharkhandi Bhasha Sahitya Sanstha has a library with
a sale counter and you may request for online
purchase. (Vandana Tete – Ph. 9234678580)
• Ram Dayal Munda Tribal Research Institute, Tagore
Hill Road, Morhabadi, Ranchi
• Flipkart & Amazon - online
 Thank You

JOHAR