Böcker av Bhima Prusty

On the banks of the river Gobari, completely engulfed in the darkness and amongst tall trees- lay our dream island- Jambu! We only knew someone before this visit who could help us with a night stay. Loading our bike on a country boat, we reached the other side of Jambu, popularly called Jambunut. Ravi Tripathy had an earlier acquaintance with Govind Senapati- the khalasi (loader) of the irrigation department who lived in a tile-roofed government quarter. There was hardly any facility for water and power. Spreading our mats on the floor, we spent the night brimming about visiting Jambu. The next day, riding a boat on the Gobari River, we were in Jambu to meet many unknown people who later became part of the Jambu Saga. Finding time from my academic life between 2010 and 2017, I continued solo travelling to Jambu multiple times. There, I was introduced to Sri Samarendra Mohanty, a television reporter from the Chhapali Chowk. He could comprehend my working style and extended full cooperation to me. In those seven years, as many times I visited Jambu, my reporter friend Sri Mohanty arranged my stay at varied places- government bungalows, forest bit houses, even in his own home. He had taken me to many places around Jambu like a kind-hearted guide.Along with Jambu, he had arranged my visit to Ramnagar Kharnasi, Odisha's first lighthouse, and to Hukitola- the first port of Odisha. Through a generous introduction to forest guards and rangers of the area, he helped me to understand the topography and lifestyle of the Jambu people. I could have many exciting conversations with younger and older people from different Bangladeshi hamlets and colonies through his kind introductions of me to the Jambu people.I tried to tape-record the life and struggle of the people of Jambu. Binoy Das, who was displaced during the civil war and riots in erstwhile East Bengal and finally could settle in Jambu, often turns nostalgic and talks about his struggling days; the cloth merchant turned Indian nationalist Bakul Talukdar; the youth leader Nimain Sarjan who raises his concern and voice for the issues and rights of the refugee brotherhood living in Jambu; Tapan Sikdar who, after being tortured in Bangladesh, along with his family had to leave the country and have greyed in Jambu; Madhoi Mandol who was damn scared after receiving an expulsion notice from the Indian government for illegal entry into India; Kadamb Sena, with nine months pregnancy fled the country during the East Bengal and Pakistan civil war and arrived here. I tried to record the lifestyle and life stories of hundreds of people of Jambu, like Jatia of Kharnasi village and octogenarian Purjan Mandal. Only one common malice of these refugees in Jambu inspired me to write this novel. Jambu has seen three generations since the 1960s. They have an unresolved question: Which nation do they belong to? The country they left a long time ago or the country in which they have been living for generations!! One nation brands expatriates, and another government names them as 'refugees'. Wherever there is a civil war, a religious war, or a political war related to international borders, people are bound to cross the geographic boundaries as refugees for their own and kin's safety and welfare. The issues of displacement and refugees are global phenomena. Jambu may be a tiny place on the world map of immigration and refugee settlement. Still, Jambu continues to be a mini-representative of refugee colonies of the world. After arriving at these colonies, including Jambu, There is no way open to going back. Jambu is the Land of No Return!!!

The tribal lives are to be die out. What appears, after someday, this tribe will remain as a word in future. One day, this vast and the ancient tribal inhabitant will efface. Most of us have not seen this inhabitant this is about to efface, they are only heard like a story by the people of city dwellers. They are assessed by very few people those who have come upon them in person. It is very rare people don't know the reason why they prefer to reside in dense forest amidst the rill, hills. Some outsiders, they prefer to stay with them in spite of unfavourable condition for different intentions. Particularly, the stay there temporarily for preparing the film, documentary and research etc. Many things have been prepared on them. I, myself involved with the tribals of Koraput, Kalahandi, Kandhamal district of Odisha since two decades. A kind of intimacy has spontaneously been developed among them during my stay with them along with the social activists and organisers in their tribes. I have extended my co-operation and dedicated times for the awareness of the tribes against the multinational companies and made them conscious to fight for their land water forest and hills. I have travelled from forest to forest, village to village on feet to carry out the work success. People those who have lost their lives in that fighting, some pillars were constructed in their memory. When the tribals could not able to continue the spirit or fighting, at last they surrender their lands to the company and displaced with compensation from the land of their ancestors and move to other states for their livelihood. Due to owners outrage, many of them are migrating to neighbour states as daily wagers. There, they are exploited and forced to do excess labour and died of malnutrition, diseased and without food. On the otherhand, some religious fundamentalists have kept themselves busy in converting them into their religion. The regular and continuous conflict in between the tribal and non-tribals have compelled them to leave the place for ever, as a result of which these people are bound to live in town and city as daily wagers by leaving their permanent residence. It is seen, some organisers take initiative for the Boarding, lodging, education of tribal children with the funding of foreigners. In later period, the same tribal children being educated in modern city style forget all about their own culture and tradition. There is no end of suffering and exploitation of the tribal people because the landlords and zamindars were exploiting them in pre independent era and now the politicians and the wine dealers are doing the same job as before. It is only time has been changed, but there is no compromising in suffering and exploitation. These tribe lover tribals have been suffering and affected due to mismanagement of administration and they search for a rejected place to build their huts to earn their livelihood in town and city. The same sorts of fear, instability and no alternative are seen among tribals like the people of city. The long-preserved forest, hill and lands of the tribals have lost their identity and existence. There is continuous process of digging of mines and deforestation is going on uninterrupted. The social activists have made the tribals pur in the chess board of income.Many innocent tribals are sacrificed in the fighting of police and Maoists. For all these reasons, the tribals are floating in the favour of displacement. The practical and real experiences that I have gained during my stay with them to realise their struggle against modern civilisation and exploitation which have inspired me to preserve these burning situations in my writings, particularly, their culture, tradition and live style and struggle and displacement are the main sources and elements for the theme of my writings will remain as the records for these tribal people. - Prof. Bhima Prusty