Tireless Travellers

It's irksome that a pictorial documentation of this nature took so long in coming. Relief, that it has come at all. For the over 500 communities nomenclatured variously as nomads, khanabadosh and aboriginal tribals, Randhawa's labour of love might be just one of the few works that document a way of life that is melting away on the very ruts that its cart wheels have carved for centuries on the Indian kaleidoscope.

Randhawa himself has a rather surprising background for this kind of effort. Currently district magistrate of Kachchh in Gujarat, he has an engineering degree from IIT Kanpur. His love affair with nomads began in his childhood when he skipped school one afternoon to share a meal with the Gaddi nomads of Himachal. That romance comes alive with the author's camera-savvy skills—all the photographs are his own taken diligently over the years.

The author treats the wanderers on an occupational basis rather than pigeon-holing them into simple, ethnic or racial types or even under a geographical grouping. While western India enjoys special focus for the insurmountable reason that the largest number of itinerants originated here, the book does justice to the romantic Gaddis of Himachal, the sober Gujjars and merry Bakarwaals of Jammu and Kashmir, the Banjaras, Nats, Bhootiyas and scores of others whose very existence may come as a revelation to many.

Often subjects of suspicion because of their furtive movements, for the itinerant artisan, evasion and secrecy were in fact the fundamentals of survival. While the European gypsy artisans did not form as essential a part of society, the roving occupations of their Indian counterparts were looked forward to with eagerness by Indian villagers. The annual sojourns of the Gadia Lohar, for instance, took care of the repairs of the villagers' tools.

Also, contrary to popular perception, very few gypsies took to crime. The Criminal Tribes Act of 1871, which branded entire communities criminal by birth, was one of the great historical injustices done to the nomads. One community singled out was that of the Banjaras, travelling traders for centuries in central India, Rajasthan and the Deccan. Grain suppliers to the Mughal armies and even to the British, the Banjaras for long enjoyed free passage in different terrains. A resort to thievery was a temporary phase, following a drastic loss of business with the advent of the railways and metalled roads.

Even though social status is inversely proportional to the degree of itinerancy amongst the khanabadosh—a strolling player ranking below another who might have a more permanent patron—pastoral nomads are quite happy being what they are, irrespective of the class ratings bestowed on them. Occupation is generally the basis of division, and even some Muslim groups are allotted ranking since they have a working relationship with the Hindus.

But, though earlier distinct from mainstream civilisation, most nomadic groups are being gradually affected by the dominant religion of the area, mostly Hinduism, and its caste system. The process starts with the tribal leaders acquiring landed properties and distinguished caste titles, mainly Kshatriya.

Apart from the loss of this way of life, the Hinduisation also results in the diffusion of certain undesirable practices on the gypsies' agenda like child marriage and the bar on widow remarriage. Most, however, still retain their tribal councils and panchayats for settlement of disputes, with offences against local customs being dealt with by punishments and fines (or in lieu, a community feast).

And all have tales concerning the origin of their wanderings. Bharatri bards claim to have taken to a wandering life with their king Raja Bharatri after his queen Pingala died tragically when he tried to test her love for him. Some even achieved legendary social status. No deed was considered valid until witnessed by a Bhat. In view of services rendered by the Bhils against the Mughals, every new ruler of Mewar accorded the privilege of tikka to a Bhil.

To those with the view that tribal art has been on the decline, one has only to see the Kachchh embroidery on every possible human attire.

As increased jobs in urban areas coupled with the increasing problems faced in itinerancy encourages sedentarisation of large number of nomads, it's sad to notice a gradual absence of certain groups from the countryside. Sadder still the knowledge that many go without us making an effort to record an imprint.