Amal sabhas, therefore, continue to be part of the cultural landscape of western Rajasthan, with all castes—and even some Muslims, such as the Ganchis—adopting an originally Rajput custom. Elections in this region can be expensive, as amal sabhas are almost mandatory to gather voters, and a kilo of opium can cost anything between Rs 45,000 and Rs 75,000, depending on its purity. Of course, the prohibitive price has reduced consumption—it is confined largely to rural Rajasthan and according to one official estimate is under 10 per cent. Also affecting consumption is the difficulty in procuring unadulterated opium and growing awareness about the dangers of opium abuse—in recent years, there have been caste panchayats exhorting people not to feel pressured to hold amal sabhas, while those like Narayan Singh Maniklao, a BJP-nominated MP, have had some success with deaddiction camps since 1978.
H
owever, declining consumption has not meant the end of the amal sabhas. Since they are so inextricably linked with local culture and folklore, even the authorities tend to turn a blind eye. Says Bhanwar Singh Rathore, an advocate who practises at the Jodhpur high court and specialises in narcotics cases, "In the last decade, there has been only one case about an amal sabha. The supporters of Gangaram Chowdhury, a sitting mla, were caught redhanded by the SP himself at a riyan on the day of his nomination." But eventually, since "conscious possession" was not proved, the case fell through. So what is the law? Possession of a commercial quantity—more than two-and-a-half kg—could result in 10 years of RI and a fine of Rs 1 lakh for the offender; possession of a non-commercial quantity or less than two-and-a-half kg could entail up to 10 years' RI, and of a small quantity—up to 50 gm—could end in a six-month sentence. There are about 100 cases pending at the Jodhpur high court against couriers—those who transport the opium from the farmlands of eastern Rajasthan to the consumers in the west. And the conviction rate? "Barely 20 per cent," says Bhanwar Singh, shrugging his shoulders.
How does the trade work, given that there is a legal ban on opium use? As Jodhpur district excise officer Shakti Singh Rathore explains, opium is grown under a Government of India licence, renewed annually, in certain parts of India, including the eastern Rajasthan district of Chittorgarh and a few adjoining tehsils. The licensed opium farmers sell their produce to the government, which then provides it to pharma companies. But typically, the farmers grow a bit on the side which then enters the illegal trade, which earns them far larger sums. This illegal opium could end up at amal sabhas, but also with the big sharks, who use its resin to make heroin, a far more dangerous drug.
Besides, the state government permits the sale and use of dodapost—the husk of the kernel from which the resin is extracted—earlier thrown away as waste. Though lacking the potency of pure opium, dodapost, which looks like a pile of wood shavings, is a highly prized commodity. Technically, only someone who has a certificate from a government doctor can get an annual permit to purchase two kg of dodapost a month from a government shop. The government stopped issuing such permits since 2003, since it wants to phase out the use of dodapost. Meanwhile, one only has to drop in at the nearest sarkari outlet to get one's fix.
As we did. Walked into the local Dodapost Sarkari Dukan, standing cheek by jowl with an overflowing kirana store in the main market area of a tehsil town, and retailing its wares at Rs 660 a kg. On the floor in one corner, on a dirty durrie, sat a salesman, a weighing machine, a money till and an open carton of dodapost. Sealed bags of black plastic—like those used for bin liners—filled with dodapost stood stacked on the cement shelves behind him. No permits were shown; no entries made. Those who wanted smaller amounts got them from the carton. Even we were offered a kg, quite willingly. Nothing is surreptitious in what the authorities claim to be a highly restricted business.