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Recovering the Lost Tongue: The Saga of Environmental Struggles in Central India Snippets of environmental and social struggles of the indigenous populace of Central India have often reached urban centres through the media. But such stories go through a process of dehumanization even as they become print in a newspaper. The truth of the struggle of a living breathing human being becomes lost in a quagmire of statistical data. Also, at times the struggle of the masses is negated as it merges with the name of an established leader. We all have at one time or the other read about the ‘Narmada Bachao Andolan’, a mass movement waged against the state by the Adivasis but in our mind the chief protagonist of the struggle has been Medha Patkar. We have forgotten about the other characters of this movement, the Bhil Adivasis who fought not only the repression launched by the state machinery to quell their movement but also waged their own personal battle against debilitating poverty and illiteracy. These characters of a forgotten world have been brought to life with panache by Rahul Banerjee in his book Recovering the Lost Tongue. In the manner of Gayans or traditional Bhil bards, Banerjee has narrated a tale of the exploitation of the adivasis who slowly learnt to raise their voice against oppression and demand their rights.
Recovering the Lost Tongue is perhaps one of the most interesting and riveting books that I have read in a long time. Environmental and social struggle as subjects do not normally make for enjoyable reading. Yet, what makes the book different is the fact that the author is a part of the milieu and enlivens the narrative with stories, myths and songs of the adivasi community. The narration of anecdotes about Baba Amte and Patkar, the environmental stalwarts, the discussion on the relevance of Gandhianism and Marxism today, the digression into Greek mythology, Camus, Buddha or even the romantic predilection of the Bhils et al adds to the enjoyment of the book. A wonderful book and a great read.
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Banerjee
brings to life Khemla’s single-handed crusade against police
atrocities on Bhil Advisis. The Indian Forest Act and the Land
Acquisition Act had over the years disinherited the Adivasis from
forest land. Although it was against the law, the forest officials
allowed adivasis to cultivate encroached forestland or newars
‘in exchange for hefty bribes’. Banerjee narrates the struggle of
Khemraj against this malpractice. The narration then veers towards
Subadra who symbolises the emancipated adivasi woman. Subadra joins
various NGOs and soon becomes a part of the rare band of educated
adivasi women who work for the uplift of their kind. What makes the
saga especially interesting, warming and touching is Banerjee’s
physical presence in the narrative. Banerjee is no omnipresent auteur.
He is simply the bajariya or non-adivasi activist who attempts
to bring some semblance of harmony back into the life of nature’s
children and wholeheartedly joins them in their struggle to retain
their land and villages. Banerjee’s marriage to Subhadra finally
makes him a part of the adivasi community. No wonder his narration has
a quality of authenticity.