The grief of ghungroos

Some names of Tamasha performers and their children have been changed to protect their privacy.

Weighed down by six-kilogram ghungroos (ankle bells), 14-year-old Avani trudges reluctantly from the makeshift green room towards a brightly lit stage in Maharashtra’s Beed district. Amid the roar of whistles and cheers, the Tamasha dancer flicks her wrist, stamps her feet and sways to the beat of the dholki (a percussion instrument). The harsh floodlights obscure the faces in the audience, yet she senses their piercing gaze through the folds of her nine-yard sari.

Avani is one of many girls from Maharashtra’s Kolhati community who are pushed into the tradition of Tamasha, a form of folk theatre and dance-drama which is now entangled with the exploitation of women and girls. The custom leaves women financially vulnerable and reduces them to commodities. Many children of Tamasha performers are denied access to education. Although community members and activists are working towards providing these children with education and safe shelter, the cost of preserving this cultural tradition is borne by its custodians who continue to face stigma and exploitation.

Avani, the daughter of a Tamasha dancer, was only 11 years old when she was brought to the Sevashram residential school at Bramhanath Yelamb village in Shirur Kasar taluka (tehsil) of Maharashtra’s Beed district. The school serves as a rescue centre for the children of women performing Tamasha.

“About a year ago, Avani’s mother’s partner visited the school. He took Avani to attend a marriage ceremony in the family. I opposed the move, but Avani is a teenager and her custody was ultimately handed over to a representative of her family,” says Suresh Rajhans, the social activist who started the school in 2011.

Rajhans believes that Avani has most likely met the fate of other girls in her community. Beyond performing on stage, these girls are expected to follow the ritual of chira utaravne (defloration) in which their virginity is sold to the highest bidder. The price ranges from a few hundreds to lakhs of rupees. Regardless of age, the man who performs the ritual instantly becomes her malak or owner.

Under this arrangement, the malak is expected to provide for the girl financially and meet her needs outside marriage. The malak is generally a political bigwig, government official, rich landlord, or wealthy businessman. While maintaining his own family life, he retains the right to visit the performer whenever he wishes.

Community comes calling

Tamasha is an ancient traditional folk theatre that blends music, dance, drama, and satire. It was originally performed by marginalised communities, including Mang (listed as a Scheduled Caste by the Ministry of Social Justice and Empowerment) and Kolhati.

Kolhatis are an indigenous nomadic and semi-nomadic community officially classified as a Nomadic Tribe in Maharashtra. Historically, the members of the community travelled from village to village and performed street acrobatics, music, and drama during festivals.

Within this tradition, women are primarily known for performing Lavani — a combination of song and dance that originated in Maharashtra in the 18th and 19th centuries — wearing brightly coloured nine-yard saris called lugade.

Tamasha artistes usually perform in groups. These groups range from small troupes of six to 10 people to larger ones with as many as 150 members. They work for eight months a year, from Dussehra to May. During this time, they travel almost every day to perform at village festivals across Maharashtra. The performances are booked and paid for in advance. The best female dancers can earn up to ₹50,000 a month and are usually the sole breadwinners in their families.

These groups are headed by a Tamasha malak, usually a wealthy person, male or female, who brings the performers together. The Tamasha malak has complete authority over the earnings and bookings of the group.

In the community, sons often drift towards crime because families pay less attention to them, while daughters are viewed as family wealth. The community is described as matriarchal, with women leading households and serving as the primary breadwinners. Their beauty and dancing skills take priority over education as Tamasha is their main source of income.

According to Rajhans, at least 10,000 children of Tamasha artistes are out of school. At Sevashram, Rajhans currently shelters 100 children of Tamasha dancers and performers, including orphans. Veda, a 16-year-old Class X student at Sevashram school,lives in constant fear that one day a relative of hers may suddenly arrive to pull her back into the Tamasha world.

She is reserved when discussing her life and future. “I want to study, that is for sure, but...” she trails off, looking down. Too young to carry the heavy weight of her community’s reality, she has absorbed its worst fears, and her quiet acceptance turns to tears. She loves dancing, but is ready to give up her hobby entirely to pursue education. She says that she wants a normal life with proper education, a job, and a family where she no longer has to hide or leave home when visitors come to meet her mother, a Tamasha artiste. She wonders what what life with both parents would be like.