No jobs, no respect. The shadow of a police lock-up ever-present. That is the harsh reality of the Chhara tribals. Dubbed criminals by the British, treated as thieves by independent India. Sonia Faleiro travelled to Ahmedabad to track how the Budhan Theatre Group, started by two men of the community, has changed the profile of an entire people

But That Was Another Country: a Chhara child rehearsing for a play Photo by Kerim Friedman, courtesy Flickr.com

These so-called criminal tribes were confined to ghettos, and used as cheap labour. Infants were separated from their mothers, because the British insisted that their “criminal” strain should not be passed on

I’m not in favour of stealing. We have problems, okay. We don’t get jobs, we get arrested, and people call us thieves. But I’ve avoided stealing. Why can’t others?” asks photographer and Chhara community member Pravin Indrekar. He jovially slaps his brother-in-law on the back, “He is into stealing. Daily he goes out to support himself.” The portly young man blushes. “No, no. I don’t steal,” he objects vigorously.

The Chhara community is a denotified and nomadic tribe (DNT) of approximately 15,000 people inhabiting an urban village on the outskirts of Ahmedabad. They are infamous for having made petty thievery (pursued by an estimated 20 per cent of the community) and the production of home brewed liquor (an estimated 60 per cent) their primary sources of income. The police visit every day. Every month, the same set of mothers and fathers are thrust into a van and thrown into jail. When a Chhara is identified in town — even if he is merely enjoying the annual rath yatra from a street corner — he is, more often than not, arrested without explanation. The back seat of the police van is a place every adult Chhara is acquainted with.

The community’s children accept this police presence in their lives with equanimity. Says 13-year-old Haresh Macherekar, “Our parents make a lot of alcohol, but if they didn’t we would starve. When they return from jail they warn me, ‘when you grow up don’t become like us, otherwise the police will beat you as well.’” His parents needn’t worry. Macherekar is an avid student involved in the Budhan Theatre Group — steered by filmmaker Dakxin Bajrange and journalist Roxy Gagdekar, two Chharas using what they believe is an inherent gift their people possess, to change the lives of their community’s youth. Explains Bajrange, “We abhor violence; our thefts never involve murder. We draw the victim into conversation, captivate him so he never realises when his bag has been snatched from his hand. Such talent can be used for bad, or, as we do in Budhan, for good, in theatre.”

The Budhan Theatre Group was created in 1998. For several years previously, a group of educated Chharas scripted and performed plays locally to address institutional harassment. It was in 1998 however, that activists Mahasweta Devi and GN Devy of the Denotified and Nomadic Tribes Rights Action Group (DNT-RAG) visited Chharanagar, and encouraged the crystallisation of a formal group for therapy and rehabilitation. “The primary objective of Budhan Theatre is to sensitise Chhara children against illegal activities,” says Gagdekar. “We also assure them that should their parents give up crime, but are still harassed by the police, we will help them get legal aid.”

Budhan has been taken up on this offer only once. On May 11, 2003, Bajrange was falsely accused of assaulting Prahlad Chhara in Chharanagar. At the time, however, Bajrange was in Gandhinagar. During his 15 days in jail, he understood the motivation for his arrest. “Bahut natak kar rahe ho police ke khilaaf?” spat a policeman. (We hear you’re performing many plays against the police?) “Yahan per natak mat karna, nahin to yahan per marega tu.” (Don’t do any plays about jail, or you will die in jail.”) “My father is a habitual offender,” says Bajrange. “But I had never experienced jail before. It changed my life.” It was only after Devy and Mahasweta Devi released a statement to the press, decrying his false imprisonment that he was released.

Role Models: Roxy Gagdekar and Dakxin Bajrange, founders of Budhan Theatre

Bajrange’s arrest is an example of the daily harassment DNTs have faced since 1871, when the British "notified" 191 tribes as "criminal" and passed the Criminal Tribes Act. These so-called criminal tribes were actually non-tax paying communities of singers, acrobats, musicians, and cattle grazers, amongst others, whose nomadic lifestyle was a constant source of suspicion for the British. Thereafter, they were confined to newly created ghettos, and put to work as cheap labour for industries. Infants were separated from their mothers, because the British insisted that their “criminal” strain should not be passed on. Thus the British sowed the seeds of unfounded prejudice, which continues to date. According to Devy, “Even the Meenas, who were coin makers, were notified as criminals, because the State wanted to convert coin production into a state venture. These tribes were stigmatised by the State and consequently by the people who received education from it — the middle class.”

In August 31, 1952, when the government “denotified” these tribes, it did so without implementing a rehabilitation programme of education and livelihood support. In 1959, the Habitual Offenders Act, which is essentially the Criminal Tribes Act reworded, ignited this latent stigma, allowing the police a long leash with which to terrorise seven crore people. “My grandfather was a thief; that is obvious,” says Gagdekar. “But my father was an advocate and I am a journalist. We have a right to live with dignity.”

Chharanagar is a neighbourhood of fading homes prettified with murals and bright blue walls, resting in the shadow of green, leafy trees. Children play marbles on the street, dodging cyclists; a young man sells homemade papad opposite the rail tracks. Parallel to the neighbourhood, where now stands the Naroda Beggars Home, is where the British settled the Chharas along with families from several other tribes, and where they remained until 1952. Alcohol fumes stand heavy in the air, as does the stench of a failing sanitation system. There is a stillness to Chharanagar, epitomised by the knots of men, women and children gathered silently in their verandas; stillness born of expectancy that things will change.

Every young Chhara has received primary education; many are graduates in economics, sociology, and psychology. Few, however, have employment to match their qualifications. Divyakant Indrekar acquired a First Class, Bachelor of Arts, History and a First Class, Sanskrit, Sanskrit Pramukh Parishad. Despite this, he has only been offered jobs on a temporary basis. Embittered by constantly having to search for work, he now refuses to leave Chharanagar, supporting his wife and two children by giving tuitions in Maths, Science and English to Chhara youth. “Because of our reputation, no one wants to employ us permanently,” he sighs.

‘We abhor violence; our thefts never involve murder. We draw the victim into conversation, captivate him so he never realises snatched from his hand. Such talent can be used for bad, or, as we do for good — in theatre,’ says Bajrange, one of the founders of Budhan Theatre Group

We Too Can Act: Two Chhara girls in their house in Chharanagar Photo by Sanjiv Valsan

Many Chharas are graduates in economics, sociology, psychology. Few have jobs to match their degrees. But there are 120 lawyers — only they can start with minimal expenditure and independence

In the courtyard is a metal tank floating with mahua flowers, two tin drums in which alcohol is fermented with jaggery and water, and a box of glass bottles awaiting filling. A one-litre bottle of alcohol is sold for Rs 30. Consumers come to Chharanagar, and each family sells up to 15 bottles a day. But the financial output sometimes exceeds the input. Up to five policemen visit a bootlegger’s home every week to collect a bribe of Rs 100 each. A family of bootleggers, which has been forced to withdraw its children from school due to financial constraint, might have to pay the police Rs 2,000 a month. Several times a week, officials from the Social Welfare Department, Gujarat, also drop by to make arrests. Each bootlegger, according to Bajrange, has about 20-100 cases registered against him. “We are very obedient criminals,” smiles Bajrange. “We always do what the police tells us. Except stop making liquor.”

The more enterprising Chharas have begun small-scale industries in their homes. Karunaben Menekar procures chunks of meat from the wholesale market, which her family cuts and packages at home to sell locally. Kanoori owns a handcart, which she plies, selling snacks. Initially she worked on the main road, which demarcated Chharanagar from the prosperous Sindhi community opposite. Soon, she tired of the constant police harassment. “Koi Chhara bahar nahin khada ho sakta.” (No Chhara is allowed to sell goods outside of Chharanagar). Bajrange points out, “If we could end unemployment, all our problems will automatically be solved. Otherwise a young man who is unemployed, and needs to feed his family, will look around and see what is easiest. He will join a group of thieves, or decide to brew some liquor.”

This is where the Budhan Theatre Group has made a difference. It is dedicated to breaking this destructive cycle, by moulding self-esteem and encouraging ambition. Since 1998, the actors have performed over 15 plays for free, in Chharanagar as well as Vadodara, Bhopal and Delhi to audiences comprising DNTs, academicians, and activists. Travel and interaction with other DNTs, affords them experiences their parents could not have dreamt of. Young Macherekar says, “Theatre join karne ke pehle, jab aap jaise badhe log aate the, to mein unse baat karne se darta tha. Magar abhi, mujhe dar nahin hai.” (Before I joined Budhan, I didn’t have the confidence to speak to big people like you. Now I do.”) When there isn’t a festival or a seminar to attend, they head for the village rangmanch — a water tank cemented over especially for this purpose — and delight their family and friends with their talent.

The plays are original, with the exception of Badal Sircar’s Bhoma, which was given a local flavour. The themes elaborate on the atrocities committed on the DNTs by the police. For example, their first production, Budhan, scripted by Bajrange, is a dramatisation of the custodial death of Budhan Sabar of the DNT Sabars of West Bengal; Encounter and Pinya Hari Kale are based on the custodial deaths of Rajendra Powar and Kale respectively. The group also addresses other social issues. Mazhab Nahi Sikhata Aapas Me Bair Rakhna draws from the violence in Ahmedabad in 2002. The group’s new production, which premiered in Tejghar on November 12 at a festival of writers from tribal and DNT communities organised by DNT-RAG, is a collage of their plays, called Arre, Yeh Kaun Log Hai?