Umesh Kumar Ray

Devesh

Editor

Medha Kale

English Translation

large_01-PXL_20230122_073935937-God-has-given-us-a-sky-full-of-sorrow.jpg

medium_01-PXL_20230122_073935937-God-has-given-us-a-sky-full-of-sorrow.jpg

small_01-PXL_20230122_073935937-God-has-given-us-a-sky-full-of-sorrow.jpg

thumbnail_01-PXL_20230122_073935937-God-has-given-us-a-sky-full-of-sorrow.jpg

01-PXL_20230122_073935937-God-has-given-us-a-sky-full-of-sorrow.jpg

Basant Bind has been home for only a few days. A daily wage agricultural worker, he spent the last few months working in farms near Patna, a few hours journey from his home in Salemanpur, a village in Jehanabad district. The day after the festival of Sankranti held on January 15, 2023, it was time to return to his daily wage work. He travelled to the neighbouring village of Chandhariya to pick up other workers so they could travel to the capital of Bihar together – a team of workers were more likely to get work. As he was talking to a few people there, a vehicle carrying police and excise officers arrived on the scene. They were the anti-liquor squad constituted under the <a href="https://www.indiacode.nic.in/bitstream/123456789/4694/1/8-2018.pdf">Bihar Prohibition and Excise (Amendment) Act, 2016</a>. Their job is, “To enforce, implement and promote complete Prohibition of liquor and intoxicants in the territory of the State of Bihar…’Seeing the police, people began to run. Basant started running too but, “I have a steel rod in my leg so I cannot run fast.” In a minute or so his luck ran out and, “someone caught my shirt collar and put me in the vehicle,” the 27-year-old recalls.He told the squad that they should check both him and his house for liquor. But they never did. He felt slightly consoled when, “The police told me that they will let me go at the excise department.” But when Basant and the anti-liquor squad reached the police station, he found they had already officially noted that 500ml of liquor was found on him. He was charged under the Prohibition Act with the possession of alcohol. The penalty is up to five years of imprisonment and a fine of not less than Rs. 1 lakh for first-time offenders.

“I argued for more than two hours. I told them to investigate.” His pleas went unregarded and a First Information Report (FIR) was registered. When Basant was presented in the district court he says, “I told the judge sahib that no one in my entire family sells liquor. So, release me.” The court called for the Investigating Officer (IO), but the excise officials told the court that the IO was busy with another raid, says Basant, who was then sent to Kako jail. He spent four days behind bars and was released on January 19, 2023, on surety given by his relatives – his mother pledged her land and his cousin (maternal brother) his motorcycle.

There are six police stations in Jehanabad district and a look at the complaints registered at three of them – Hulasganj, Pali and Barabar Tourism, shows that of the 501 <a href="https://scrb.bihar.gov.in/view_fir.aspx">FIRs</a> filed, 207 are from the Musahar community. They are ranked among the poorest and most marginalised communities in the state. Of the remaining FIRs, most of the accused are Bind and Yadav, both classified as Other Backward Class (OBC) in the state. “Most of those arrested are dalit or from backward classes, especially Musahars,” says Praveen Kumar, founder of LAW Foundation, a non-governmental organisation that provides legal aid to disadvantaged communities. “Police drive into the basti and without any proof, take men, women and children and put them behind bars. They cannot afford a lawyer and spend months in jail,” he adds.Basant’s village, Salemanpur has 150 households (Census 2011), of which only a few have land and depend largely on daily wage work. The population of 1242 is largely made up of Bind, Musahar, Yadav, Pasi and Muslim families. “This is my house. Just look at me. Do I look like someone who sells liquor? No one in my entire family does that,” says Basant furious at the case filed against him. When Basant’s wife, Kavita Devi, heard that he had been accused of carrying half a litre of liquor, the otherwise quiet person remarked, “Why would he sell it? He never drinks.”

The family’s brick and thatch house is situated on the banks of a 30 feet wide canal. Two electricity poles placed horizontally serve as a bridge to cross the canal. During the monsoons, the canal overflows with water and it can be fatal to cross using those poles. Their eight-year-old son studies in a government school in Class 1; the elder daughter is five years old and attends the anganwadi, and the younger one is just two. “I do not understand how this liquor ban has helped us,” says the 25-year-old Kavita. “We suffered [because of the ban].”Now charged under criminal law, Basant is looking at a long, tedious and expensive legal battle ahead. “The rich get their booze delivered at the doorstep. No one bothers them,” he says bitterly. Basant has already spent Rs. 5,000 on lawyers’ fees and bail and will likely have to spend more. He also lost out on wages as he could not work: “Hum kamayen ki court ke chakkar lagayen [Should I go for work or spend time visiting the court]?”

“Do not write my name. You will disclose it and the police will do something to me…you know I have to live here with my children,” Seeta Devi (name changed) looks worried as she says this.The family live in Musahari, a hamlet three kilometres from the Jehanabad railway station. They are from the Musahar community, classified as Mahadalit in the state – ranked among the poorest communities.It is a year since her husband, Rambhual Manjhi (name changed) was cleared of all charges under the Prohibition Act. But Seeta Devi is still terrified.

Two years ago, Rambhual Manjhi was charged with the possession of liquor under the prohibition act. Seeta Devi says, &quot;There was no liquor in our house. But the police took him with them. We do not make it or sell it. My husband does not even drink.” However, the FIR said, “On November 24th, 2021, at 8 a.m. police confiscated 26 litres of country liquor called chulai, made of mahua and gud.” The police further claim that Rambhual ran away from the scene and was arrested from his home on December 24, 2021, almost a month after the raid.With her husband in prison, it was a year of hardship for Seeta Devi. She had to take care of their children – an 18-year-old daughter and two sons aged 10 and 8. When she would visit Rambhual in jail, both would end up crying. “He would ask how we managed, what we ate. He was worried about our children. He would break down when I shared our hardships. I would also cry,” says Seeta trying to hide the tears.To feed herself and the children she worked as an agricultural labourer and borrowed money from her neighbours. “My parents are bataiyya [tenant] farmers. They gave us rice and pulses; some other relatives also sent some foodgrain,” she says and then falls silent before she adds, “I have a debt of over a lakh now.”Wrongful arrest becomes difficult to prove when the five witnesses include an informer, a liquor inspector, another inspector and two members of the squad conducting the raid. But as luck would have it, when Rambhual’s case came up for hearing, two of the witnesses denied finding any liquor in his house and the court found serious discrepancies in their statements. On November 16, 2022, Jehanabad Upper District and Sessions Court discharged Rambhual Manjhi from all charges.

“Sukhal thatthar nikale the jail se [He had become very thin when he came out of jail],” says Seeta Devi. Within 10 days of his release, Rambhual migrated out of Jehanabad for work. “I wanted to make sure he ate well for two-three months, but he was scared that the police would arrest him again. So, he left for Chennai,” says his 36-year-old wife.But his story does not end here. Rambhual was discharged in one case but in 2020, there were two more cases filed against him under different sections of the Act. The data from the Prohibition and Excise department shows that from April 2016 to 14 February 2023, more than 7.5 lakh arrests were made under the Prohibition Act. Of these, more than 1.8 lakh were convicted. The convicts included 245 minors.Seeta doubts her husband will be let off again. When asked if the liquor ban has helped in any way, she says,“Konchi kya bujhayega hum ko. Hum to langta ho gaye [How will you explain it to me? We have been stripped of everything]. My daughter is growing up and we will have to think about her marriage. But we just do not know how. We will have no option but to beg on the road.”In 2021, Rambhual’s younger brother died of some undiagnosed illness and shortly after, in November 2022, that brother’s wife also passed away. Today it is Seeta who looks after their two children, along with her own.“God has given us a sky full of sorrow. So, we suffer.”

This story is supported by a fellowship in memory of a trade unionist from Bihar who championed the struggles of marginalised people in the state.

‘God has given us a sky full of sorrow’

’بھگوان نے ہم کو چھپّر پھاڑ کر دُکھ دیا ہے‘

‘దేవుడు మాకు పుట్టెడు దుఃఖాన్ని ఇచ్చాడు’

‘துயரம் நிறைந்த வானை எங்களுக்கு கடவுள் கொடுத்திருக்கிறார்’

'ਰੱਬ ਨੇ ਸਾਨੂੰ ਛੱਪਰ ਪਾੜ ਕੇ ਦੁੱਖ ਦਿੱਤੇ ਨੇ'

‘ଇଶ୍ୱର ଆମକୁ ଏକ ଦୁଃଖଭର୍ତ୍ତି ଆକାଶ ଦେଇଛନ୍ତି’

‘भगवंताने आम्हाला आभाळभर दुःखच दिलंय’

സങ്കടത്തിന്റെ ഒരു ആകാശം ദൈവം ഞങ്ങൾക്ക് തന്നു

ʼದೇವರು ನಮಗೆ ಬೆಟ್ಟದಷ್ಟು ನೋವು ಕೊಟ್ಟಿದ್ದಾನೆʼ

'ભગવાને અમારા પર આભ ફાડીને દુ:ખ વરસાવ્યું છે'

‘भगवान ह छप्पर फाड़ के दुख दे हवय’

‘भगवान छप्पर फाड़के दुख देले बाड़ें’

‘ভগবান আমাদের আকাশ ভরা দুঃখ দিয়েছেন’

‘ইশ্বৰে আমাক কলহৰ কাণে ঢলা দুখ দিছে’

'भगवान ने हमको छप्पर फाड़कर दुख दिया है'

Salemanpur

At present, we can only accept donations in Indian rupees by Indian citizens. All donations made to the CounterMedia Trust are eligible for exemption under Section 80G of the Income Tax Act, 1961. Here is a copy of our exemption certificate.


India is bigger than New Delhi. And people need to know more about the rest of this vast nation.


Younger, media-saturated generations are growing up knowing little about their country, but a lot about the elites of a few metros and towns. For a narrowly-owned, commercially-driven media, the dumbing down of a nation is part of standard operating procedure. The last available data of the Centre for Media Studies (CMS, Delhi) show us that reports from New Delhi account for 66 per cent of news on the front pages of major dailies. The CMS data also found that just about 0.24 per cent of front page news came out of rural India. The TV channels are not much better.PARI exists to change that.We are a non-profit organisation. We publish under creative commons, and do not charge readers a subscription fee or put-up advertisements. Nothing is behind a paywall and we are completely free-to-access by anyone. We guard our independence and receive no direct grants from governments and corporations, nor any funding that could dictate our content. So, we are dependent on volunteer labour, donations from individuals, foundations and institutions that see value in independent and free media.PARI is changing the way Indian journalism reports and documents the rural.India is more than the elite of a few metros and towns. We report on rural lives and livelihoods, languages, communities, migrants and more. We need your help to pull off this most ambitious of Indian journalistic endeavours. The scale of this effort costs money. Donate generously - and spread the word about PARI.&nbsp;

Donate FAQs


Let’s get you acquainted

Welcome to PARI

All our content is, and will forever be free to consume. If you enjoy our work, you can support us by becoming a volunteer or by donating to help fund our work.

Want to republish this article? Please write to <a href="mailto:zahra@ruralindiaonline.org" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">zahra@ruralindiaonline.org</a> with a cc to <a href="mailto:namita@ruralindiaonline.org" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">namita@ruralindiaonline.org</a>

‘God has given us a sky full of sorrow’

In Bihar’s Jehanabad district, men arrested under the Prohibition Act are largely from the most marginalised communities. They and their families, live with the terror of penal action, loss of wages and endless tussles with the law

Related stories

A rain-scented walk in Sivagangai

Living on ravaged land

Biswas and the bamboos on his bike

Recycling energy, Godda style

Bhadels of Goa

Pookadai: still throbbing with morning life

Koli Kadlas

Malnourishment high among children of migrants: study

Wheels of the rural Indian West

Living Under a Red Cloud in Bellary

Vedla – earrings of the Maher community

Dreaming of water, drowning in debt

Kali: the dancer and his dreams

Farmer's diet worse than a convict's

In Yavatmal, life goes on

Suicides are about the living, not the dead

Death of a carpenter

Hoisa Shigmo!

Women farmers: weaving a life in Anantapur

Defiant in Dhinkia

Spice and all that's nice

Kerala's Green Army

The ‘jugaad’ not-a-mobile

Health as someone else's wealth

Calibrating in a Kudumbashree assembly unit