One of the long-cherished customs that the Santhal society is continuing to believe in is that of the existence of dahnis or witches and their power to harm others. According to such belief, some supernatural beings (bongas) enter the human body, causing disease and even deaths to people. They believe that particularly the women bodies become possessed by such spirits and those women are the dahnis or witches. The word ‘witch’ has been derived from the Anglo-Saxon word ‘wicca’ (World Book-Multimedia Encyclopedia: “Witchcraft”). The word ‘witchcraft’, with spiritual, divinatory and mystic connotation, refers to the practice of, and belief in, magical skill or ability with the power to influence the mind, body or property of others in a malicious way. The existence of such belief could be noticed within societies with religio-cultural framework incorporating respect towards mysterious super-natural beings.

Now the issue that arises from all these stories of the witches and witchery is that do such women really exist? The novel under present discussion, The Mysterious Ailment of Rupi Baskey by Hansda Sowvendra Shekhar, portrays the lives of the Santhal people vividly and authentically. Naturally, dahnis too play a significant role in the novel. Hansda presents with great care a number of women who are alleged of practicing dahni-bidya —the naikay’s wife and daughter-in-law, the majhi’s wife and her aunts, Gurubari and Dulari. But the surprising fact is that while talking about the witches or witchcraft, Hansda seems to adopt a very casual approach towards such things. His view regarding this tradition is well-expressed through the words of Somai-haram, “That is what has been done over the years. Santhal men drink haandi, Santhal women practice dahni-bidya, and no one speaks about it. It is as natural as the wind blowing through the trees in a sarjom grove, as water flowing in the Kadamdihi stream” (Hansda 37). The readers don’t find any trace of disapproval towards such superstitious beliefs (which was much expected from such highly educated narrator). Is the narrator then, despite his knowledge of modern scientific thoughts (as he is a doctor), yields to such superstitions?

The second issue that too keeps the readers wondering is, why no solution or remedy for the ‘mysterious ailment’ of Rupi is ultimately provided by the author? Why does the novelist let his protagonist, whom he portrays with such care, gradually perish without any resistance on her part? Does Hansda want to end his novel simply on a pessimistic note? Are these two issues completely isolated ones, or are they intertwined to convey some truly significant proposition? A close study of the novel gives the answer to all these queries.

Regarding the issue of the existence of the witches, Nathan and Kelkar attempt to find the truth behind these beliefs in “Witches: Through Changing Contexts Women Remain the Target”. They observe, “Talking to people of the region there certainly is a strong belief in the existence of such women who practice a different form of worship labeled witchcraft, and thus—as per popular belief—gain certain powers to cause harm” (2). P. O. Bodding, the Norwegian missionary of the 18^th century, expressed, “I am inclined to think that the practice of witchcraft by Santhal women is, to a certain extent, really secret worship, resorted to by women because they are not permitted to take part with the men directly and personally in ordinary public worship” (224). Witnessing such forms of secret worship by women has also been mentioned by some reputed contemporary anthropologists. According to Nathan and Kelkar, a conflict between women-centred and men-centred religious practices do exist among various indigenous peoples. Possibly, in course of time the women-centred religious practices have moved from centre-stage to the margins.

Hoffman believes that a close association with the Hindu religion influenced the Munda belief system in various respects. Kelkar and Nathan (1993) and later Samar Bosu Mullick too agree upon the exposure of the Santhals to the ‘stratified social system’ (Mullick 341) of the neighbouring Hindu Society which is purely patriarchal. Mullick in “Gender Relations and Witches among the Indigenous Communities of Jharkhand, India” identifies three stages of the development of belief among Santhals. First, belief in spirits, including the ancestral ones, who are benevolent. The knowledge of the rituals to appease them is possessed by both men and women. Second, an ‘additional belief in evil spirits’ (Mullick 343) who are appeased by the deonra (or dewa, or dewar) separately. Third stage includes the belief that human beings can become devoted to/close with the evil spirits and can control them. Mullick associates these three stages of belief with the three different stages of modes of production—foraging, foraging-cum-agriculture (with foraging playing the dominant role), agriculture-cum-foraging (where settled agriculture is dominant). Now these shifting relations of production have intense/significant influence on changing gender relations. These three stages show us the gradual development of a class struggle giving rise to patriarchy by weakening the female rights, economic and ritual, stage by stage. Formerly women had a very significant role to play in the agricultural and foraging process. The women led the clan while going from one village to another. They possessed a great knowledge of seeds and roots which they kept secret to women only. Mullick observes, “Her knowledge of herbs and plants, particularly medicinal ones, is considered a precious family possession” (344). The part they played in making the land ready for cultivation is also very significant. Naturally, the women’s right to the land and the harvest was recognized and incorporated in their customary law by the society.

Mullick traces the etymological origin of the word dan (Santhali word for witch) to be associated with dakini which in Tantrik Buddhism means the female personification of a stage of wisdom. In Pauranic tradition Dakini is the associate of Kali, ‘the deified form of the female principle’ (Mullick 345). Therefore Mullick opines, “The witch stands for woman’s right to knowledge and access to cultivation and the witch-finder represents the male dominance over land, knowledge, and agriculture in the community” (350). It seems clear that in the later stages of the development of the Santhal society women’s right to cultivate land and her access to water were usurped by men. From the Santhal folklore on the origin of witchcraft we can learn that all the women of the community deceived Singbonga and mastered the knowledge of witchcraft from him. His original design was to pass it on to the male folk of the community. So it is clear that in the beginning such knowledge was possessed by all the women in general, not just to only a few of them. This secret knowledge (to heal as well as to harm) provides the women superiority over men. So for the sake of strengthening male domination in the society, such knowledge had to be opposed. As a precautionary measure women are denied their right to take part in almost all the religious rites and the sacrifices made to the spirits. They are not allowed to access the jaher than (sacred grove). The witches, in their nightly adventures, do all those things which are denied to them in the daylight. They access the sacred grove, worship the spirits, offer sacrifices to them, mock-cultivate and forage food items and so on. According to Mullick, the witch “…is engaged in a gory struggle for her survival as a woman. She is fighting against all the taboos imposed on her and is trying to retain her power and status and protect the remnants of the social system that sanctions them” (354).

Within the novel The Mysterious Ailment of Rupi Baskey, the first-time we come across such a woman in this novel is when older Somai-budhi is pregnant for the third time, after two miscarriages. In spite of all the measures taken to prevent, it happens once more. And then only the daughter shares with her mother the dreadful dream she had years ago, at the time of her first pregnancy: “She had seen a large woman whose hair was open and flying wildly as pennants in a strong wind. She saw that, and the woman’s big eyes which didn’t stop rolling. Left right up down, left right up down—they moved like two glass marbles placed on a plate. She couldn’t see her face” (Hansda 23). And the mother instantly identifies the huge woman with big eyes—the naikay’s wife.

The other dahni the readers of the novel are introduced to is the majhi’s wife in Nitra. The aunts of majhi’s wife were infamous practitioners of dahni-vidya. People believed that perhaps majhi’s wife derived her knowledge from them. And the eldest of her three aunts, a widow without children, came to stay with her niece in Nitra. After her arrival, an ‘unholy’ alliance was made among the allegedly like-minded women of the village who together carried on the practice. Gurubari is believed to be one of them. Rupi gathers this knowledge from Romola, her neighbour in Nitra.

Dulari, the wife of Rupi’s brother-in-law Doso, is another one in the list. The story of the emergence of Dulari as dahni is very interesting. Doso was in love with a Shabar girl whom he couldn’t marry as his family wouldn’t approve the girl. Under constant pressure of the family for marrying a suitable girl, one day Doso brings Dulari home. His purpose behind marrying Dulari was very clear— to provide a helping hand to the family in the daily household chores. And he continued his relation with his Shabar lover as before. One day Doso’s lover dies off fever and diarrhea. And the responsibility is shifted on Dulari as she is the sole beneficiary of the death. The rumour of the emergence of a new dahni spreads in Kamardihi.

So Dulari is alleged to become a witch only after the death of her unofficial ‘satin’. Now let us have a look into the situation she was in before that death. Doso met Dualri at a pata. Dulari was not at all a beautiful woman to fall in love with at the first sight (as Hansda narrates, “She was a thin woman with a flat chest and backside. She had a small mouth with a pair of large buck teeth”, 159). So there was no reason Doso would fall in love with her (“His Kharya lover was far more attractive”, Hansda 159) and he never did. He married her only to shut the mouth of his family who were constantly pressurizing him to marry a girl from their own community. He dumped Dulari in his house and carried on with his lover. As the author observes, “He showed Dulari her place in the house very clearly. She was to do everything that was expected of her—cook, clean, herd cattle—and ask no questions” (161). She was not even happily accepted by Putki, her mother-in-law, who constantly kept comparing her with the other daughter-in-law of the family, Rupi. To add to that, Doso started beating her regularly when she started questioning him. He declares, “I will kick you so hard that you will go flying out of this house. I have done you favour by marrying you. Be thankful to me and don’t ask for anything more” (164). As her father was a very poor man to provide his tortured daughter shelter, Dulari had nowhere to go. In this situation Doso’s lover dies and people begin to assume the connection.

Now Dulari is not that kind of a woman who is ready to accept all the injustices done to her without uttering a word. She quarrels with Putki (her mother-in-law) for constantly comparing her to Rupi. Even before being branded as a dahni, Dulari replies to Rupi on being instigated, “I will not share my husband or my child with anyone. I know you are too good. Good enough to share your husband and sons with another woman. I can’t be as good as you” (163). This is Dulari who will not succumb to circumstances and perish. She is ready to fight for her own right till her last breath. May be she is responsible for the death she is alleged to be. May be the means she adopted to fulfill her mission was something other than the practice of witchery, some means not associated with supernatural powers (since no direct proof of her practicing witchery is not provided within the novel). Or maybe it was purely accidental. But Dulari gets the full benefit of it. Whether out of fear of his wife’s power or out of depression after the death of someone he was deeply in love with is not clear, but the fact is Doso becomes a ‘servile lamb’ (155).

The situation into which Rupi is placed is almost the same with that of Dulari, except the physical torture part. Sido, Rupi’s husband, is engaged in extra-marital relationship with Gurubari. The newly married bride Rupi comes to Nitra to stay with her husband. She is excited with the prospect of setting up a new home with her life-partner. But what she finds after arriving in Nitra is that her husband’s ‘home’ is already set there. On the very first day of her arrival, she receives the timely advice from the ‘jasemine-scented, white-haired’ woman, “Get your kitchen. A separate kitchen” (98). But Gurubari won’t let it happen. Now one may wonder why kitchen becomes so important in this discussion! Kitchen is never just the mere place where cooking is done. Critics dealing with house-space would agree that kitchen carries with it the symbolic value of authority upon the family. And by denying a separate kitchen Gurubari is actually denying her the right to run her family on her own. Gurubari goes on, “And my kitchen has two chulhas already. I will cook on one, you take the other” (italics mine) (100). Gurubari’s use of the word ‘my’ in relation to the kitchen she wishes to be ‘theirs’ betrays her real attitude. It is her kitchen, and she is only inviting Rupi, out of generosity, to cook there. And so is true with the family. During her stay at Nitra, Gurubari continues to inflict this feeling within Rupi, though in a very sugar-coated way, and Rupi is powerless in front of her. While Gurubari’s persuasion was powerful, her words too were sweet, “like honey dripping from a hive above one’s head, a never ending stream of sweetness’ (101). Rupi could never say ‘no’ to her, ‘although she found this sweetness cloying at times’ (101). Gurubari was the queen of the house ruling over all the members of the family, including Sido and Rupi. All the time Gurubari kept on asserting how less Rupi knew about household chores and of raising children. Thus, the strongest woman of Kadamdihi, whose ability was never questioned there, gradually becomes convinced of her inabilities as a wife as well as a mother. This lack of confidence, intentionally induced within her, is the root cause of her ‘mysterious ailment’ which remains incurable till the end of the novel.

Only a trip to Kadamdihi could restore her belief in herself. Her health improved there as she was a part of everything –planting, harvesting, threshing—and nobody questioned her abilities there. There she was the one upon whom the whole family depended, unlike in Nitra where Gurubari was the all-in-all. And to crown all these feelings, after a few months of her stay at Nitra, Rupi began to feel the dependence Sido has on Gurubari, in every sense of the term. She felt that her husband belongs to Gurubari. The author explains, “Rupi couldn’t understand what her ill health had to do with Sido spending time alone with Gurubari. Sido should have been with Rupi. That was how it should have been… Rupi—sick and nagged by the feeling that she was sharing her husband and son with another woman—kept to her rooms and walked over to Gurubari’s side only when she had to cook in the common kitchen” (110). So the story that began with sharing the kitchen ended with sharing the husband as well.

Now let us focus on the episode where the two sisters-in-law (Rupi and Dulari) are having a verbal fight (within the chapter called “The Clash of the Equals”). Rupi has just woken up from another dream of the ‘jasmine-scented white-haired’ woman and sitting under the dogor tree. Dulari is busy with her usual daily routine. Suddenly Rupi becomes outrageous and attacks Dulari, calling her a witch and blaming her for all the unfortunate things that are happening to the family. This time we see Dulari not to ignore Rupi. She comes to her and boldly defends herself. And what she says in response is very significant, especially in connection to our present area of discussion. She says, “You think you are very good, dai? Tell me, what good has your goodness done to you?” (184). This question appears to me as the pivotal one holding the whole novel. Searching for the answer to this question would lead us to solve the mystery behind the ‘mysterious’ illness of the protagonist. And the hint to the answer too is hidden within Dulari’s argument. She continues, “I may be a witch, but tell me, did I have a way out? What was mine was being taken away from me. I had to claim it for myself. What other way did I have? Who would’ve helped me? No one, no one, dai. I had to help myself. I had to do everything by myself. If it meant using dahni-vidya, I was ready for that. I had to reclaim what was rightfully mine. Tell me, dai, did I do anything wrong? I don’t think so. If you are so good, use your goodness to get back what you have lost” (184-5). Now let us analyze this argument from the perspective of the real cause of women taking interest into practicing dahni-bidya, as is explained by critics like Mullick—the issue of depriving women of their rights of land and cultivation. Here Doso becomes the symbol for land, whom Dulari has every right upon. And he was being taken away from her (by that Shabar woman). As Dulari asserts, “I had to claim it for myself. What other way did I have? Who would’ve helped me? No one, no one, dai. I had to help myself”. And witchery is the only way left to reclaim what was ‘rightfully’ hers. She is not at all ashamed of the way she adopted to regain her right. It was her fight, and she had to win it. In spite of knowing everything, nobody advanced to help her. But when things changed, no matter how, people came forward to blame her, accusing her of practicing secret power. So Dulari is not at all repentant for what she did. And finally, and most significantly, she throws the challenge to Rupi, “If you are so good, use your goodness to get back what you have lost”. We know, Rupi too is placed under the same situation. Gurubari is usurping her husband, even her eldest son Jaipal. But Rupi couldn’t do anything, except withering away gradually. Her ailment is rooted into the helplessness she is facing every day. Thus Rupi becomes the symbol of those Santhal women who are not dahnis only because they lack the courage to protest against the wrongs done to them and perish. Whereas Dulari stands for those who are not submissive, who are well-aware of their rights, and have got the stamina to rebel against the society. As a consequence, once ‘the strongest woman of Kadamdihi’ (of course, physically) becomes the weakest one, chiefly because of her psychological inertness. That is why we see even within her illness Rupi could feel much better when she comes to Kadamdihi and takes leading part in the ongoing cultivation work. This clearly shows that her illness is more psychological and less physical. Rupi again and again tries hard to protest against Gurubari’s behavior, but without success. Each time she struggles to rebel, she ends up submitting to Gurubari. In this respect I would like to refer to a particular incident related to the ‘jasemine-scented white-haired’ woman who warned Rupi on her very first day at Nitra about having a separate kitchen. Kitchen in a house stands for a family. Usually each family possesses a kitchen of its own and the lady of the house is the boss of the kitchen—it’s her territory, not his. A separate kitchen also denotes a separate family its boundary/ territory. And this was the advice given to Rupi by that mysterious old woman—to separate her family from Gurubari’s. But as weak-willed as Rupi is, she could not make it out. She strives to discuss the matter with Gurubari, but Gurubari, being a strong-willed woman to rule over others, strikes away the proposal. Now the question is, who is this ‘jasemine-scented white-haired’ woman? It is clear that she doesn’t have a real existence for other women present around Rupi, including Gurubari, couldn’t see her. Then who is or what is she? Is she the inner voice of Rupi? Perhaps so. We see Rupi being shaken on her first meeting with Gurubari: “Gurubari’s eyes, Rupi saw, were much like those of the naikay’s widow and daughter-in-law in Kadamdihi. Gurubari scanned Rupi from head to toe, from right to left, not pausing even once” (95). Besides, the reaction of the majhi’s wife while suggesting to settle the matters like distribution of rooms and kitchen among themselves appears to be strange to Rupi: “Rupi saw that as the majhi’s wife suggested this, her face took on a strange expression. It was as if she had ventured the opinion against her wish, almost as if an inner urge had forcefully pushed it out of her” (96). Perhaps these signs alarmed Rupi’s sixth-sense and the result is the call of her inner self in the form of that mysterious woman, advising her to keep her family away from Gurubari. The next time we see the woman is in her dream which, to Rupi, ‘surely had a purpose’ (111). She saw the woman approaching “…worry writ large on her face. It is as if she has come to warn Rupi of some danger, some calamity that has to be prevented” (112). On waking up Rupi finds her son missing. Is this the mishap the old woman was trying to warn her of? Later Jaipal was found lying with Gurubari. This was the beginning. Gradually Gurubari expanded her right on Jaipal. From the narration it is clear that the woman is not intending any harm to Rupi, rather is a well-wisher and the writ on her face is the proof of that. Every time she appears, she alerts Rupi of some impending disaster. Or maybe, the woman is the symbol of her inner alertness/sixth sense. But the fact is that Rupi fails to respond to that inner voice for her lack of determination.

Now let us come back to the episode of verbal combat between the two sisters-in-law: “One morning, Dulari was at the well near the dogor tree. Rupi, who has just been woken up by yet another dream of the white-haired aunt, squinted in the bright sunlight and began mumbling” (183). Naturally, Dulari was bewildered initially by this sudden attack. Though the relation between the two in-laws is not at all warm, till this moment they never had a direct confrontation ever. Both of them carefully avoided the other’s way. So this kind of attack and that too from a woman like Rupi, is really surprising. And there was not even the slightest provocation on Dulari’s end. She was following her usual routine of household chores. She was about to carry water from the well for Rupi’s bath. The author explains, “Perhaps it was Rupi’s helplessness at having to depend on the woman she hated so much which gave rise to her sudden outburst” (184). May be, but the question is why she hated Dulari so much? Apparently we can’t find any harm done to Rupi by Dulari, not even any verbal abuse. Rather despite their mutual bitterness, we see Dulari doing all those things for Rupi which she is not able to do herself. Then why is this hatred? Secondly, in spite of all the harms that Gurubari did to her, we don’t find Rupi, even for once, to outburst at her. Not even after she finds Sido coming out of Gurubari’s room shirtless and Gurubari retying her sari. Then why does she shout at Dulari, going against her nature? Is Dulari then her alter-ego? Perhapsso. She hates her because Dulari is the one she wants to be but can’t. She couldn’t shout at Gurubari as she is her rival who is more powerful than her. Actually she is afraid of Gurubari. But she is not at all afraid of Dulari, though apparently Dulari seems to be more powerful a witch after allegedly taking revenge upon Doso’s lover. Rupi is not afraid of her because she is not her rival, rather both of them are the victims of the same situation, though their responses to it are quite different. So she can, without fear of any harm, shout at her. And what Dulari says in response to her outburst settles the matter. Let us first carefully look into what exactly Dulari says—“But tell me, dai, if you are so good, what is your goodness doing? Why isn’t it saving you from being devoured? I may be a witch, but tell me, did I have a way out? What was mine was being taken away from me. I had to claim it for myself. What other way did I have? Who would’ve helped me? No one, no one, dai. I had to help myself. I had to do everything by myself. If it meant using dahni-bidya, I was ready for that. I had to reclaim what was rightfully mine. Tell me, dai, did I do anything wrong? I don’t think so. If you are so good, use your goodness to get back what you have lost” (184). This argument by Dulari serves multiple purposes for the author. On the first hand, it helps him to compel the readers to feel sympathy for Dulari which eventually results in clearing off her guilt as dahni. Secondly, it provides the readers the hint to solve the mystery behind Rupi’s ailment not being cured by any external means. Thirdly, and most significantly, it throws light on the author’s take on dahnis and the reality behind practicing dahni-bidya. As has been discussed earlier, the practice of dahni-bidya is actually the reflection of the gender-struggle that is constantly going on in the Santhal society through ages. What Dulari utters is the basic argument of the practitioners of dahni-bidya. What was theirs (right of land and cultivation) was being taken away from them by the men-folk. They had to reclaim it by any means. And they were left with no other way except secretly gathering at night and performing all those things they were denied in the open daylight, right before the eyes of the society. And in their secret nightly adventures, in their fight against their own menfolk, they are all alone. If they don’t adopt the path of this so-called ‘dahni-bidya’, as the author tries to hint at, they would perish like Rupi, who doesn’t have the courage to choose the only path for survival. If they try to remain good in the eyes of the society, as Rupi does, their goodness is not going to earn them their rights, never. This is perhaps the reason that those women who are strong-willed and have dominating (?) personalities, are more prone to join the secret performances. In this respect I would like to a particular episode in the novel within the chapter called “The Fall of the Strongest Woman of Kadamdihi”—the episode within the Marwari’s Tomb. It happens so , while returning from Nitra along with Bishu and Phuchu, Rupi had to take shelter at that place for the sudden outbreak of Kaalboishakhi. There Rupi faces another fit of the hallucination of the ‘jasmine-scented, white-haired’ woman, this time in presence of other villagers who too took shelter there. In her frenzied trance, she ‘jumped to her feet and ran out of the memorial into the pouring rain’ (171). This is the first time we see her to try to follow the woman. And when she is found by her sons under the tamarind tree, she couldn’t (or wouldn’t?) recall what happened. To the Santhals, as the author explains, such kinds of things happen for only two reasons—‘either a spirit or a dahni had ascended the woman; or, the woman is herself a dahni’ (172). And in this case, rumours began to spread that Rupi has become a dahni. But surprisingly, there is no further reference of Rupi being a dahni or performing dahni-bidya later in the novel. Then what is the significance of this episode? Why does the author, even for once, hints at Rupi turning into a dahni? Does he too then wish his protagonist to turn into a dahni to reclaim her rights? This is the last occasion that we see the mysterious woman haunting Rupi to snatch away what belongs to her. Was it then her last call to which Rupi, with her utmost power, tries to respond positively but fails? Is this why the chapter is called “The Fall of the Strongest Woman of Kadamdihi”? And the next chapter, very significantly, is titled “The Next Strongest Woman of Kadamdihi”. What Rupi loses, Dulari wins. Dulari’s power, as the narrator shows, never comes from her physical strength or her abilities to perform household chores perfectly, as it was with Rupi. Her power comes from the knowledge she has acquired, with the help of which she is ‘capable of controlling people’. This is her newly gathered confidence which Rupi lacked, despite of all her abilities, and which is the root cause of her ‘mysterious ailment’ never getting cured.

Works cited

Bodding, P.O. “Some Remarks on the Position of Women among the Santals”. The Santals. Ed. J. Troisi. Vol. 6. Indian Social Institute: New Delhi, 1979. Print.

Hansda, Sowvendra Shekhar. The Mysterious Ailment of Rupi Baskey. Aleph Book Company: New Delhi, 2014. Print.  

Hoffman, J.B. and Arthur Van Emelen. “Asur-kahani”. Encyclopaedia Mundarica. Vol. I-A. 240-250. Print.

Mullick, Samar Bosu. “Gender Relations and Witches among the Indigenous Communities of Jharkhand, India”. Gender, Technology and Development. Vol. 4 (3). 2000. 333-358. Print.

Nathan, Dev, Govind Kelkar and Shivani Satija. “Witches: Through Changing Contexts Women Remain the Target”. Working Paper No. WP 004/2013. Institute for Human Development: New Delhi, 2013. Print.