Tharu woman plays mirdang for the first time

By Ghanashyam Chaudhary

Jhumara dance is culturally attached to the Tharus. It is performed in Tharu festivals like Maghe, Dashain and Deepawali. In the past only men used to perform this dance and entertain during the festivals. Two men wear the dress of women as dancers and another male plays the Mirdang (Madal). I had not seen a woman playing Mirdang in my thirty two years of age. I have seen elsewhere this type of dance where only men played this instrument as Mirdangi. Mirdangi is the person who plays the Mirdang and is the leader of this dance form. There are number of beats of Mirdang which inspires the dancers to change their style while dancing.



Jhumara Dance of Bhelai, Mahendrakot from Kapilvastu: Photo by Ghanashyam Chaudhary

Since a decade Tharu women started  to dance in Kapilvastu although the Tharu community is dominated by male. The women did not dare to play Mirdang. I was amazed to witness women coming upfront to  be a Mirdangi in the fourth district level Jhumara and record dance competition in Kopawa-4 of Kapilvastu. This has sent a positive vibe among Tharu women telling they can do what they did not tried earlier due to number of sociocultural belief.

 

Fourth District Level Jhumara and Record Dance Competition,

11-12 November 2012 at Kopawa-4, Kapilvastu (Nepal): video by Ghanashyam Chaudhary

Loitering in the land of Buddha

After reading the article “Tilaurakot Excavations (2023 – 2029 V.S.)” by Tara Nanda Mishra and the book “The Great Sons of the Tharus: Sakyamuni Buddha and Emperor Asoka the Great” by Subodh Kumar Singh, I was dying to visit Tilaurakot, the place where Lord Buddha spent his 29 years. 

Tilaurakot – the citadel in shambles
Finally, I got the chance to visit Taulihawa. I was excited – the reason – Tilaurakot and Jagadishpur Lake being in the vicinity. As we crossed the Bhikchhu Chowk, the roundabout that leads the way to Tilaurakot, the sign board was misleading. While one showed the way to Tilaurakot, another had a two headed arrow which was pointing towards two opposite directions. However, the problem was solved within minutes as the locals told us to head northward.

On the way to the Tilaurakot complex, is a museum that houses the archaeological findings that were excavated from the complex. We wanted to see the site of King Suddhodana’s palace first, so we skipped the visit to the museum.

Not a single visitor in the complex
Reaching the complex, I had thought that crowds of people will be competing for a glimpse of the ancient kingdom. However, the expectation was shattered within seconds. I could see not a single visitor in the surrounding.

Anybody can enter the complex and surprisingly you don’t need to pay for the entrance. Entering the citadel was like travelling back into the days of Buddha. I could sense the ambience – tranquil and heavenly.

Defence wall at the Western Gate

Grand defence of ancient times
At the entrance of the Western Gate, the remnants of 10 feet wide defence wall were astonishing. You can imagine how well protected the citadel was – apart from the defence wall, there used to be a 22 feet wide moat with crocodiles. It was simply impossible for the enemies to enter the city.

The excavations carried out on the western end of the ruins at Tilaurakot, roughly in the central position of the western wall brought to light three different phases of defence walls. Among them, the first wall was made of clay, possibly digging the nearest outside area, and the ditch had been simultaneously converted into a moat. The first mud wall can be dated to 7th-6th Century BC. The second phase of defence wall had also been made of yellowish clay, and had been built during 200 BC. The third wall was erected just over the basement and outer toe of the second phase wall. It was made of bricks and brick-bats in yellowish mud mortar. It can be dated to 150 BC. The walls were surrounded by a deep moat, which was probably fed by water from the Banaganga River.

One of my colleagues tried to step on the wall out of curiosity but was admonished by a staffer wearing an orange tee shirt with the Lumbini Development Trust logo. However, he was himself sleeping on the wall!

The staffer explained that two layers of identical bricks were applied on top of all the walls and structures unearthed during the excavation, so as to save the archaeological assets from further deterioration.

Messing with the signs
As we moved to the “Western Gate”, I was disheartened to see the mischief of miscreants – they had scratched off the “not” from the display which now reads “PLEASE DO ... STEP ON THE STRUCTURE”. Likewise, the same was done with the Nepali notice. Seeing the brick structures makes you imagine the grandeur of the citadel. Brick-arms to support the massive wooden doors at the Western Gate were found during the excavations. The remains of wooden doors had been found in the shape of charred wood with large number of flat iron pieces and long iron nails. 

Siddhartha Gautam was born in Lumbini Garden in 623-24 BC and was brought back to the city of Kapilvastu. He lost his mother only after seven days of his birth and was brought up by stepmother Prajapati Gautami. As a young prince he spent his 29 years in the citadel.

Seeing an old man, a sick man, a dead person and a sage, Prince Siddhartha was so much disgusted with the worldly life that he left his home town at the age of 29.     

As I moved further my disappointment turned deeper seeing the board in the main complex reading “ANCIENT STRUCTURAL COMELEX”. At least the authorities should have checked the accuracy before installing the board! The complex houses the remnants of King Suddhodana’s palace. You can see the compartments that once housed the chambers of King Suddhodana, Maya Devi and young Siddhartha. During the excavations, beads, bangles, potteries and other antiquities were unearthed from this complex. You can see them at the museum nearby. 

Temple with elephant as offerings
In the north of the complex lies the famous Samai Mai temple. I was amazed to see Indian pilgrims worshipping at the temple (they had parked their car with Indian number plate near the Western Gateway). The temple looks dilapidated and it’s interesting to see elephant statues being offered to the goddess. The devotees offer elephants statues once their vows are fulfilled. 

In the east of the temple is a pond which needs restoration. The staffer told us that King Suddhodana and the royal family members used to take bath in the same pond.

The door to enlightenment
As you walk eastwards, you would come across the Eastern Gateway called “Mahabhinishkraman Dwar”. It is the gate from which Prince Siddartha left this worldly life in search of enlightenment. The gate complex contains 19 feet wide roadway flanked on both sides by brick bastions. During the excavations terracotta, human and animal figurines, coins, beads, seal with Brahmi inscription etc. were found here.

Buddha's inspiration
Then if you walk further twelve hundred feet north of Tilaurakot, at a place called Dhamnahawa, you will find twin stupas. The diameter of the big stupa is 52 feet and is 7.5 feet high from the working surface. The stupa was made in four phases with the first phase starting during 4th century BC. The second stupa, located at a distance of nearly 15 feet north of the big stupa has a diameter of 26 feet and was built in a single phase during 2nd – 1st century BC. These are probably the two of the four stupas mentioned by Huen-Tsang as existing before the city gates. The four stupas may represent those commemoration stupas near the city gates, erected in the memory of the four events (the sight of the old man, the sick man, the dead body and the sage), which led Prince Siddhartha to desert the worldly life.  

Kanakmuni Buddha’s birthplace
I also visited Niglihawa which lies on the north east of Tilaurakot, at a distance of about three kilometres. Reaching the site, I just found a board that states that it was the place of Kanakmuni Buddha’s birthplace. The pillar laid by Ashoka is lying on the floor. Thanks to the authorities, they have at least built a shed and locked the premises to preserve it. Nearby is the pond from which the pillar was recovered.

The Chinese traveller Fa-Hian visited the Buddhist sites between 399-414 AD. Whereas Huen-Tsang visited the area in between 629-645 AD. Both have reported about the place where Kanakmuni Buddha met his father and found nirvana. Huen-Tsang has mentioned that close to the Nirvana Stupa, there was a stone pillar erected by Ashoka with inscriptions describing the events of his Nirvana.

Many archaelogists have tried to locate the ancient Kapilvastu Kingdom based on the travelogues of Fa-Hian and Huen-Tsang but it was Dr Fuhrer who located the Ashoka Pillars at Niglihawa and Lumbini, and tried to trace the ruins of Kapilvastu. According to him, the villages of Amauli, Baidauli, Haranampur, Bikuli, Sivagarha, Srinagara, Jagadishpur and Sagrahawa etc., were all included within the ancient township of Kapilvastu.

After Fuhrer, PC Mukherji was deputed to find the site in 1889. He identified Tilaurakot as the ancient city of Kapilvastu. He excavated a 16 sided stupa inside the Kot (complex), traced the defence walls in the north-east corner and located the Eastern Gateway.

Rendezvous after enlightenment
After visiting Niglihawa, I headed to Kudan. It is in the south of Tilaurakot and is regarded as the place where Lord Buddha met his family after getting enlightenment. Prajapati Gautami offered yellow robe to Buddha during the meeting at this site. It is identified with Nigrodharam (Banyan Grove), the site of monastery build by King Suddhodana. It is believed that Buddha’s son Rahul entered into monkhood in this monastery. Meanwhile some scholars identify this place with Kshemavati or Navik, the natal town of Krakuchhanda Buddha. I was astonished at the grandeur of the place and it reminded me of the Machu Picchu of Peru. The place and ruins need further restoration and extensive marketing efforts to attract visitors.

Due to time constraints I could not visit other places nearby like Gothihawa, Araurakot and Sagarahawa. The Nirvana and Ashoka Pillar found at the Gothihawa village is identified as the Nirvana Stupa of Krakuchhanda Buddha. The old Araurakot, close to the Niglisagar on the east, most probably represents the old township belonging to Kanakmuni Buddha. Sagarahawa represents the site of old Mahavan and the memorial of war heroes.

You must visit all these sites to get the feeling of the golden era of Buddha! As you make up your mind, I sign off till next jotting.    

The identity battle

Rana Tharus in their traditional attire (c) Facebook/Tharu Community

By Bikram Rana
Courtesy: Republica

Rana Tharus in India mostly reside in Udham Singh Nagar district of Uttarakhand and Kheeri as well as in Pilibhit and Gonda, districts of Uttar Pradesh. They are recognized as a scheduled tribe by the government of India. The Indian constitution gives several special social, educational and economic benefits to those categorized as the scheduled tribes.

In Nepal, Rana Tharus have been native residents of Kailali and Kanchanpur since the 16th century and are, in fact, the first settlers of the two districts. The four districts, namely Banke, Bardiya, Kailali and Kanchanpur, were under British administration from 1816 to 1860 and were included in Nepal by the British before they left India. Prior to the inclusion of Kanchanpur and Kailali in Nepal as ‘naya muluk’, the settlers in these two districts were Ranas and Katharias followed by Tharus from Dang and later by others.

Being natives of two districts, Rana Tharus were prosperous land owners with big houses and livestock. They were old land lords (who owned or held land before the introduction of the land reforms in 1964) of both the districts. Though the Rana community was economically and socially powerful, the literacy rate among them was low, a condition that prevails even today. However, their native places were gradually encroached upon by other groups and even by the Panchayat in the name of rehabilitation (punarvaas) and by the democratic government in the name of sanctuary broadening (aarachhya bistaar).

In 1854 Jung Bahadur, the first Rana Prime Minister of Nepal, developed Muluki Ain, a codification of Nepal’s indigenous legal system which divided the society into a system of castes. The Tharus of Nepal were placed at the bottom of the social hierarchy, just above the ‘untouchables’. During this period, the Rana Tharus of Kailali and Kanchanpur were under the British administration (1816 to 1860). After the inclusion of these four districts in Nepal, anthropologists and experts have been largely biased against the Rana Tharus as well as other Tharu groups.

This injustice was further perpetuated by the government of Nepal which placed Rana Tharu in the same category of Tharus as in the previous census, even though they claim to be very different in reality. This reminds me of what famous American anthropologist Ralph Linton had said, “The way of life of people is one thing, what we study and write about, is another dimension of culture. The former is reality, the latter our understanding of the same. If the former is to be culture, then the latter may be called only culture construct.”

Although physically the Rana Tharus are similar to other Tharu people in the area, they speak their own language. Rana Tharus differ from other Dangaura and Chaudhari Tharus in most respects, including language, attire and culture. According to sociology, “Indigenous group is any ethnic group originating and remaining in an area subject to colonization and have retained their distinctive identities. Such groups often appear to go through a sequence of defeat, despair, and regeneration, if they have not been exterminated or their culture completely destroyed by the external or colonial power.” This supports the theory that Rana Tharus have a different identity, which has survived for years and cannot be erased at the peak of political transition when every group is fighting for its identity.

The functionalists who are trying to maintain their strategic advantage and the utopians in their endeavor to usurp the rights of others are using different tools to obfuscate the main debate surrounding self respect and unique identity of minor groups. This makes the federalism process contradictory.

Few leaders who enjoy the facilities of both hill and Tarai regions fear losing their strategic advantage with growing demands for Tharuhat because the inclusion of two districts, Kailali and Kanchapur, in proposed Tharuhat has resulted in a counter protest for a ‘united Far-West’. This is an attempt to maintain status quo in the region so that there is no change in the condition of communities who have been deprived of any stake in power and governance. Ramesh Lekhak, one of the CA members has said that Rana Tharu, Dangaura Tharu and hill people in Kailali and Kanchanpur have been living in harmony. On the surface, there is harmony in the sense that there have been no violent clashes between the hill and Tarai inhabitants; but if you plunge deeper, both the Rana and Dangaura Tharu have felt slighted since the hill people have been enjoying strategic advantage in terms of authority, power and caste superiority.

Tharus have been rarely included in the societies and bodies formed in the name of the ‘Far-west’. These societies have merely highlighted cultural traits of the hills, while ignoring the Tharu culture. For instance, no Rana or Dangaura music has been played on Kantipur radio programme touted as the ‘voice of Far-West’. Leaders from the hills who belong to major political parties get the opportunity of picking constituencies both in the hills and Tarai while Tharus who have this option only in Kailali and Kanchanpur struggle to get candidacy even in these districts.

The reluctance to consider Rana Tharus as a different group and recognise its independent identity has now put the community in danger of becoming extinct. Failure to acknowledge and respect the separate identity of Ranas is likely to affect the community and the future of the proposed Tharuhat.

In the past, being more economically comfortable, Rana Tharus felt less suppressed and were satisfied with their land holding and did not feel the need to educate their children. However, the other Tharu groups have felt strong discrimination ever since the promulgation of ‘Muluki Ain’ in 1854 and have placed comparatively more emphasis on education while participating more in the politics of Nepal.

Now with the implementation of positive discrimination policies, the census classifying the Rana Tharus as Tharus, Tharuhat obstructing the recognition of a separate Rana Tharu identity and the ‘united Far-west’ acting as a functionalist, the Ranas feel their very identity is under threat. Thus, organisations like Rana Tharu Sangharsh Samitee, Rana Tharu Welfare Forum and Nepal Rana Tharu Samaaj are raising their voice for a separate Rana Tharu identity.

Geographical delineation alone cannot determine a federal state unless adequate space is created for all, while ensuring a fair distribution of power and authority. The solution is to create what could be a ‘win-win situation’ for Rana Tharus, Dangaura Tharus and the hill people. This requires some give and take by politicians from the hills who enjoy the strategic advantage as residents of both Tarai and the hills.

The author is the founder president of the Rana Tharu Welfare Forum, Kanchanpur and can be contacted at bikram324@gmail.com   
 

One herb a day to keep your tooth woes away

If you are planning to visit Terai and especially a Tharu village, never worry to take your brush and toothpaste for your daily brushing. Enjoy the natural toothbrushes of different flavours and medicinal properties while supporting the environmental cause. Do as the Romans do in Rome – it would be better to say do as the Tharus and Madhesis do in Terai/Madhes.

I never bother to carry a tooth brush and tooth paste tube when I visit my home in the Terai. Instead, every other day I use bamboo, neem, babool, Ficus spp., Jatropha curcas, Clerodendron spp. and Achyranthes aspera (prickly chaff flower, devil’s horsewhip, Sanskrit Apamarga) twigs as natural toothbrushes. Apologies for the botanical names!

Bamboo twigs 
Almost every village in Terai has bamboos planted in the village outskirts. Probably, due to the manifold uses of bamboo – in building houses, baskets, fishing equipment, rice storage barns, mats, fencing and so on.

It’s quite simple to break off bamboo twigs. Just remember to press hard at the nodes. If you are not used to snapping off bamboo twigs, use a sharp knife. A twig of 8-10 inches length and around 1 inch diameter makes and ideal toothbrush.

Start chewing one end of the twig until it takes shape of a brush. Don’t swallow the bitter juices, just roll them around your gums and brush your teeth as per your usual schedule. When you are done with the brushing, split the twig into two parts and use them as tongue cleaners.

Neem (Azadirachtha indica)
Neem is an essential ingredient in Ayurvedic toothpastes. Just like the bamboo twig, you can choose a tender twig and with the help of a knife make a brush.

The process of chewing the twig and brushing is similar to that of a bamboo twig. The juice from the natural brush contains beneficial ingredients that kill harmful bacteria, reduce inflammation, and stop bacteria and plaque from sticking to your teeth.

As in case of bamboo brush, after cleaning the teeth the neem stick can be split in half, bent into a U-shape, and can be used as a tongue cleaner.

Babool (Acacia arabica)
Babool is another important ingredient Ayurvedic toothpastes. In the Terai, it is famous for whitening of teeth. It is called baboor in local language.

The babool twigs can be used as disposable toothbrushes after removing the thorns. The tannin present in babool is effective in whitening teeth.

Shahor (Ficus spp)
There is a commonly found tree in Terai called shahor, leaves of which are used as fodder. The shahor twigs can also be used as brushes. The brush making and brushing process is same as that of Neem.

Likewise the aerial roots of the banyan (Ficus religiosa) can also be used as disposable toothbrushes. The banyan roots have astringent properties, which not only make the teeth whiter, but also make the teeth and gums healthier.

Baghandi (Jatropha curcas)
Jatropha grows in wasteland and is used as natural fence in Terai. The small tender twigs can be used as a toothbrush to clean teeth. Jatropha juice has gum strengthening properties.

It is believed that the sap from the leaves can be rubbed onto the gums of babies to aid with teething.

Clerodendron is called Bhait in local language.

Bhait (Clerodendron spp.)
There’s a saying in Terai which identifies bhait as the second best herb to brush your teeth with, while ulta chichri or apamarga is the best for brushing.

While the plant is used as decorative plant in other parts of the world, they are found in abundance in wastelands and forests in Terai. I have seen the plant in mid-hills too.

The plant is uprooted and the stem which has many medicinal properties is used as tooth brush.

Ulta chichri (Achyranthes aspera)
As it resembles a whip with thorns, it is called devil’s horsewhip and ulta chichri (meaning thorns arranged conversely to the stem) in local language. It is called apamarga in Sanskrit and is supposed to act as a safeguard against scorpions and snakes by paralysing them. It is described as purgative, pungent, and digestive, a remedy for phlegm, inflammation of the internal organs, piles, itch, abdominal enlargements, rheumatism and for enlarged cervical glands.

Devil's horsewhip is the best natural toothbrush.

In India and Terai of Nepal, the juice is applied to relieve toothache. The stem of the plant is used as toothbrush after removing the thorns. The infusion of the twig is also used as a wash for tooth pain. Roots are said to be useful in treatment of cancer and decoction of roots is used in stomach troubles.

So isn’t it a good idea to brush your teeth everyday with a different herb? Be a part of the green movement by leaving aside your plastic toothbrush and using natural toothbrushes to brush your teeth.

Then and now

Courtesy: The Kathmandu Post

In the Tarai, an old tradition turns a young Tharu girl into a Kamlari. Normally from low-income families, they work as indentured labourers, spending many years away from family, and are often denied an education. In the last decade, efforts have succeeded in ending the system, offering these ex-Kamlaris a new hope. Through organisations like Friends of Needy Children (FNC) and Room to Read, many girls who have escaped the Kamlari system have been granted an opportunity to change their lives for the better. Along with free schooling from the sixth to the 12th grade, girls in Room to Read’s Girl Education Program attend Life Skill sessions taught by Social Mobilisers (SM). These SMs play a vital role in helping the girls put their pasts behind them and move towards a future where they are able to stand up for themselves and heal. An SM is of paramount importance, and when an SM has herself borne the burdens of the students, her story becomes all the more inspiring. The Post’s Shreya Thapa had the honour of meeting Gita Tharu, 22, and Josina Tharu, 21, who were gracious enough to share their stories.

Joshina Tharu and Gita Tharu (L to R)

GITA THARU, 22
If I am to start from the beginning, I was sent to be a Kamlari when I was nine years old. My father was a Kamaiya for my Malik’s family and my Malik was a school teacher who needed a Kamlari. I told him I would work for him if he sent me to school. I went to work for him and he sent me to school from the fourth grade until I passed my SLC.

Not all Maliks are bad and not all Maliks are good either. My Malik was okay, but his second wife was terrible. She would make me do all the work and she would complain about how much shampoo I was using because I used to have long hair. At one point all the work caused my feet to crack and bleed, but even then she was never sympathetic. It was most difficult because I didn’t have time to study. I would do all the housework and still try to make it to school—sometimes I’d go without a uniform because I really wanted to study.

Despite issues like the fact that my Malik wasn’t initially willing to pay Rs 100 for tuition for one subject, I managed to pass my SLC. After that, he said he couldn’t educate me anymore, so for one year I didn’t do anything. I didn’t have work, I didn’t have the means to study, so then he came and told me that he’d pay for my college if I worked for his family in Nepalgunj.

I went, but I didn’t get what I wanted, so I left and went back home. Around this time, FNC was rescuing girls and offering them education so I applied, but I was never selected. I found out that they didn’t want to accept me in the programme because the girls they took were around 11 or 12. I was already 17 and there was the risk I wouldn’t complete my +2 because I’d get married. My mother would plead with a didi who worked at FNC and finally they agreed. I was determined to study and do well and show them that I could do something.

While I was studying in the 12th grade, I got an internship with FNC for three months and I attended trainings on how to end the Kamlari system by campaigning and speaking with Maliks. Then I went and worked as a Field Observer for six months. Around this time, my final results came and I passed, but I didn’t have the means to study further.

Soon I was making Rs 6,000 a month and taking care of my entire household. At that time, my family wasn’t supportive at all. I had to go to Kathmandu for training and when I asked my father for Rs 1,000 for travel expenses, he got angry and told me to leave, he said he didn’t care if I lived or died and that I’d never amount to anything. I told my father that unless I got into an accident and died, I’d prove myself.

I took trainings and gained some experience and then heard there was an opening at Room to Read; in fact, they called me and asked me to interview. I thought about it, without the help of my family, what was I going to do? I got the job and have been working as an SM since November 2010.

I worked in various districts but right now I have around 40 students that I oversee—I hold the Life Skills sessions for them. I teach them how to be strong women, I visit them at school, I visit their homes, and I get to know them. Because I have this job, I am now paying for my bachelor’s degree in Nepali and have just given the first year exams. On top of that, I’m also paying for my brothers who are still in school.

Now my family support me, they tell me to do well in whatever I take up. But no one understands what it’s like unless they’ve been a Kamlari—I won’t let my uncle’s daughters go as Kamlaris. No matter how poor we are, I won’t let anyone else go because I’ve endured so much as a Kamlari myself.

Now I go to Kathmandu all the time, and through FNC, I’ve even met the Prime Minister. I’ve also been to many ministries and been a delegate for many events. I’ve been interviewed by various papers, my photos appear in the papers and when I see what I’ve said, it makes me happy to compare my life now to what it was like before. For now, I’m studying, I’ll finish my bachelor’s degree but I don’t know what’s next. When I think about my life—where I was to where I’ve come—I still don’t think I’ve been able to process it fully.

Josina Tharu, 21

Everyone in my family has been a Kamlari or a Kamaiya. We have very little land and when I got older, there wasn’t enough to feed me and keep me at home. I was sent to work as a Kamlari when I was eight, and the Maliks I worked for let my parents farm on their land. I worked for two different Maliks during the five years I was a Kamlari.

The first Malik was okay, but the second Malik lived near the Indian border and since everything was cheaper in India, I’d be sent there to buy things; I was always afraid someone would take me and sell me. The Malik wasn’t home a lot, but his wife was terrible—she yelled all the time and even beat me.

The entire time I was a Kamlari I never got to go to school. I really wanted to study but my Maliks refused to let me. So while everyone else went to school, I would have to stay home and cut grass, take care of the buffaloes, cook, and do the dishes. They wouldn’t let me go anywhere. In fact, when my sister-in-law was sick, they didn’t let me go home and I didn’t get to see her before she passed away—I didn’t even get to go for the funeral.

Later when my grandfather got sick, I knew they wouldn’t let me go see him, so one day, I ran away. One of my sisters lived close by, I went to her place and told her to either drop me off at home or let me spend the night with her. The next day I went to Guliriya and didn’t pay the bus fare. I had no money so I explained my situation to the driver and he let me on the bus without charging me anything.

As soon as I left, the Malik called my brother and yelled at him, and my family was no longer allowed to farm on their land. When I came back, my parents were angry at me, but then they eventually accepted me into the family.

At that time there weren’t any organisations or support, but I’ve found that if you are determined, anything can happen. When I came home, there was an organisation offering classes to older women, which I joined. I was 12 and younger than all the other students and the teacher thought I could do well, so she gave me extra classes. After a few months, I enrolled into the fourth grade.

At first it was difficult for me—not school, I didn’t have a hard time studying—but the fact that my old friends weren’t treating me well. They were mean and said terrible things; the neighbours used to talk and say, “This girl has lived somewhere else, she was a Kamlari, what can she do?” My family suffered because of this.

When I was in the eighth grade, I taught a class for older women for nine months, and since then I’ve always been involved. I worked with an organisation that helps Kamlaris and Kamaiyas, and because I worked hard, I was chosen to attend trainings and got opportunities that way. I continued to do more teaching until I heard there was an opening at Room to Read, where I’ve been working as an SM since 2009.

I have 60 children between the age of 12-16 who are all ex-Kamlaris. Looking at the children, I feel happy because that’s where I came from and after hard work and many struggles, I am here now and happy. When I can talk to them and when they open up to me, we all move forward together. There are so many difficulties that the girls aren’t able to talk about, but when they can open up it really helps them, and I can understand all of the pain they are holding.

I currently give Life Skill trainings to the children. I used to want to be a nurse but our circumstances didn’t make it possible, instead I just gave my first year exams for a bachelor’s degree in Sociology and I want to be a counsellor.

When I went to a counsellor, I cried for seven days because before then, no one had ever asked me how I felt. No one was here and I didn’t know who I could go to to pour everything out—I know the children must feel the same. Now, of 30 students, around 15 or 16 have sat down and opened up to me, they take some time but eventually they talk about the things that they usually try to hide—things like family problems, fights with friends, and even rape. I think I’m drawn to this because you can’t always understand situations, but if you can understand a person and help them heal—that’s a big deal.

Change makers of the Tarai

By Shreya Thapa
Courtesy: The Kathmandu Post

Imagine a massive celebration; picture your whole family, your whole village coming together. Try to fathom what Dashain, New Year and every major festival merged into one would be like and only then will you understand Maghi. Celebrated on Magh 1(mid-Jan), Maghi isn’t a big deal in the Tharu community just because it’s the largest festival; it is also the time when decisions and plans for the upcoming year are made—decisions like choosing who the Badaghar, village head, will be.


“The whole village sits together and the previous Badaghar asks for leave and resigns. Then each person voices their wants and demands for the upcoming year. After choosing which appeals will be put into effect, the village makes a plan for the next year. When goals are made and a plan is set, only then is the Badaghar chosen,” explains Tihar Bahadur Tharu. This village meeting has been held in the courtyard of his house for over 15 years as Tihar has been elected and re-elected to be the Badaghar of Balapur in Bardiya. As the Badaghar, Tihar is then responsible for carrying out the village’s plans and ensuring changes are made in that year.

“We make plans for one year, but in the back of our minds we also have to think a little longer,” says Ram Lal Tharu who is the Badaghar in his village of Maghragari, Bardiya. But if a good Badaghar is found, he is not let go of very easily. “I’ve been the Badaghar for over 10 years, recently I’ve been saying I don’t want to do this anymore, that I am no longer capable, and that I am tired—but the village doesn’t listen,” he says with a resigned laugh.

And given how much responsibility Badaghars shoulder, it is no surprise that they tire. “For every decision that is made, the Badaghar is included,” says Laxmi Ram Tharu, who has also been the Badaghar of Dhampur, Bardiya, for around 10 years. He smiles, “There are things that you can’t even think of that we have to do.”

Responsibilities as the village head naturally entails being part of the committee that establishes the village laws. “These laws are more important than the national laws,” Tihar says, “If we declare that for one year there are to be no laathi charges then it will be followed.”

But the Badaghar isn’t limited to the higher level official work, he is included in virtually every decision, “The bigger things are there, but we are also consulted about things like giving goats and buffalos injections,” Laxmi says. As the Badaghar, Ram is currently most concerned about building a bridge that is the point of connection between his village and just about everything else. “We have a wooden bridge now but it’s in terrible condition; when that goes, I don’t know what we’ll do. Right now I worry about how to get a bride.” The worries Badaghars have to tend to even go as far as settling disputes between villagers. “We find out what the cause is, we try to see things from both sides, and then we offer a solution to those fighting,” Tihar says and adds, “But whether they listen to us or not is up to them.”

Given the prestige and power that comes with being a Badaghar, it is surprising that what they say is in no way final, “We make suggestions and recommendations but then the people are allowed to choose if they want to listen or not—if we forced it on them then it wouldn’t be any different from the Rana period,” Ram says. Instead, everything is extensively discussed until the best possible solution is found.

Perhaps this system of the Badaghar being responsible to the people he is responsible for is what makes it a success. During their time as Badaghars, with the help of various NGOs and INGOs, they have worked within their community to help remove the Kamlari system when young girls are used as indentured labourers; new educational facilities have been built nearby; roads have been built; more homes have toilets now—Ram is especially proud of having collaborated with Red Cross and being the first to build toilets in just about all of the 431 houses in his village.

What is incredible is that these men are not educated—on top of being Badaghars they are farmers, and they receive no compensation for the services they provide to their villages. In the annual meeting that all Badaghars of the region attend, they recently discussed providing a small stipend for Badaghars but where that goes remains to be seen. In the mean time, their devotion to their communities and their advocacy for positive change continues.

“Because I didn’t get to study myself, that’s the one thing I advocate the most for. I encourage everyone to study; education is the biggest wealth. After someone is educated they can stand up on their own feet—this is what I tell everyone,” Laxmi says. Ram adds to Laxmi’s cause, “If people aren’t educated, sometimes it is difficult to work with them, but if they’ve been schooled, they understand better and it makes our work easier.”

Despite the lack of education, the progressive thinking these men hold should be applauded. “I set up something so that women, even the older ones, can learn to read and write,” Ram says and Laxmi goes as far as saying, “I think we need women Badaghars. We ask them to come forward, we say we’ll help them learn—we’ll help them with work, we’ll help them with money or going to different places. We need to move forward, we need to get women involved—keeping them shut in the room won’t do, we need to enforce the attitude that women should and can be in bigger positions.”

Their ideas to promote women and youth is especially impressive for a country where older men have long been in charge, but these Badagars modestly attribute their way of thinking to experience, “It’s all about experience; it’s through experience that we’ve been able to come this far. For me, it definitely wasn’t education,” Laxmi laughs and adds, “You learn as you go, you teach things you know to others, and you learn things you don’t know.”

Listening to them, it’s no surprise that their villages are unwilling to let these men step down. Given how fruitful this truly democratic system has been, it’s unlikely that the tradition—which exists where Chaudhary families live in Banke, Bardiya, Kailali, Kanchanpur, and Dang—will fade anytime soon. As it stands, the community still needs them, in Laxmi’s words, “The villages will always need something—only time can tell what the need of the next generation will be.”

The month of Baishakh and the Sambhunath temple



Sambhunath temple

If you are in the Eastern Nepal in the month of Baishakh (April-May), make sure to pay a visit to the Sambhunath temple. The temple is in the Sambhunath Village Development Committee (VDC) of the Saptary district adjacent to the East-West Highway. A month-long fair is observed at the premises of the temple to usher the New Year and pay obeisance to the Lord Shiva.

The Shiva Linga is believed to be growing.

Sambhunath is one of Lord Shiva’s many avatars. However, the Tharus call the deity Semnath and the month-long fair Semnath Dham (Refer to the comment by Mr Bhulai Chaudhary at the end of this article). On the very first day of the year (first of Baishakh), locals and pilgrims from surrounding districts and India come here to worship and offer “jal” (water) to the Shiva Linga which is continuously growing (as believed by local people). During the month-long fair, people worship Sambhunath and offer jal from the nearby pond. People with warts offer a pair of brinjals to the deity to get rid of the skin disorder. Miraculously, many people get cured of the warts. The fair at the temple premises offer you everything from edible items to entertainment like theatrical performances.

There are two ponds near the temple. Worshippers take bath and take water for offering to Shiva from the one situated at the western part of the temple. Another at the eastern part is bigger in size. It was a huge wetland in the past, however, due to encroachment has reduced to a pond. Still, the wetland attracts migratory birds and bear lotuses. It is in dire need of conservation.


Ruins of an earlier settlement

It has not been ascertained how old the Shiva Linga is. The ruins at the southern part of the temple indicate that the Lingam belongs to a very old settlement. The pieces of pillars and columns suggest there was an ancient kingdom in that area. It needs further study and research. The locals need to attract archaeologists to this site to delve into the history of the area. Meanwhile some people have been stealing away the precious pieces of ruins. It needs to stop and the area needs preservation measures from the state.

Nearby, in Kanakpatti Village, after the huge earthquake of 2050 Bikram Sambat (1993 AD), a nicely carved terracotta wall emerged from a hillock. Local people rushed to the area to collect the terracotta pieces. Later the Archaeology Department sealed the area for further research but it never saw the light of the day. This further indicates that the area was a burning hub of activities in the past.

There are many myths surrounding the Sambhunath temple and I request you to contribute to this article by posting the myths surrounding the temple.