Water: simply a matter of caste

There is a hand pump barely 100 metres from Dashrath Musahar’s home. All day long the creak of the handle as water is pumped can be heard as women wash themselves and their clothes.

But the state-installed hand pump in Wornar village is out of bounds for the family of Dashrath. As Musahars – members of a Dalit community – accessing water from the village pump here in Palamu, is quite simply, not an option.

“Haman ke gari dewale, kahale na ki kahi aur se panio baro [They hurl abuses and tell us to get water from somewhere else],” said Dashrath Musahar. Their vessels are flung away, he adds.

Ramavtar Chaudhary’s house is adjacent to the handpump. “They are refused because they don't maintain cleanliness. Would anyone drink that kind of water?” he answers when this reporter asks about the open discrimination against Musahar Dalits who account for almost a third of the 2,749 people living here (Census 2011).

So, to get water, Musahars must trek three kilometres to reach a two-foot-deep pothole in the corner of a paddy field. It is here that their thirst must be quenched by making multiple trips through the day.

A trip to fetch water calls upon all 50 members of Dashrath’s clan – from the two-year-old girl with a tiny bowl to the young man, carrying two large basins on his head – everyone plays a part. At the site, older family members use a small aluminum pot to carefully scoop water and fill larger containers. The others wait patiently, knowing a small mistake could stir up mud and force them to pause their collection for hours before the mud settles.

The return journey – three kilometres along a stony path – is a challenge, the uphill climb forcing them to stop and catch their breath.

Urmila Devi, Dashrath’s wife says, “for bathing and washing clothes, we have to go even further.”

The extended family survive on begging for food in and around Wornar village in Palamu district of Jharkhand. “Haman mangila aur khayila [we beg and eat],” said Dashrath, who also collects plastic bottles and earns a little from recycling.

Musahars are among the most deprived Dalits, categorised as Mahadalits in neighbouring Bihar (from which Jharkhand was carved out in 2000). None of Dashrath’s family members have a ration card so accessing subsidised rations is impossible. They do have MGNREGA job cards, but they have never been given a single day of work, and have no option but to beg.

Around eight to ten people live together in one hut, and there are five such huts on this hill. The one-room huts are made of bamboo and covered with old plastic sheets. Inside, the space is cramped with utensils stacked in one corner, clothes in another, and mats for sleeping. Outside the hut, sacks of plastic bottles are piled; four pigs are tied nearby.

Their voter ID and Aadhaar cards were made just a few days before the 2019 Assembly elections. “A big man [politician] came in a car and got them made, saying we'd get [state] rations after the vote. But when we went to the dealer, we were chased away with insults,” Dashrath tells PARI.

“Ye to sarkari champakal hai, koi kahe rokeha, lekin apko ise saf rakhna hoga, thik? Wo sab gandagi bahut phela tha hai. Tho koi barne dega paani. This [hand pump] belongs to the government, no one can stop you,” says the upper caste Ramavatar, seated on a string cot outside his home. But he goes to repeat casteist slurs against Musahars.

“Aap kahan pade hai musahar-usahar ke chakkar me! chodiye ua sab ko [Why are you bothered about the Musahars? Forget about them!],” he says dismissing me with a wave of his hand.