critical reflection on our visit to tea garden



      HUM AYE NAHI HAME LAYA GYA HAI ''

With these words Mr. Benedict  Bhengra a Santhal tea garden worker corrected me when I told him that your ancestors came here on their own. He has given his 40 years of life in the tea garden. We three had a thought-provoking dialogue on the life of tea garden workers. He said that, there ancestors were BROUGHT here they did not come on their own. He told us that like any other Indian the foreign missionaries also felt that we do not have our own etymology. We were treated as beggars and still we are. We are looked down upon and they always felt the need to help us rather than understanding our ways of living. H e was grateful to the missionaries who brought them here but he regrets that he had to live behind his past, his land, his identity his know surroundings, his people and everything that called their own.

They were brought to Assam as workers so that they could live a better life they were brought here so that they could make a living but they ended becoming bonded laborer to tea garden and the tea garden became their world. The world which looks so green and beautiful from outside has its own sublime ugliness which is not seen by an outsider like us. The tea garden workers do not have an identity of their own. They left behind what their own now they live in tiny houses which are given to them by their owners. The missionaries always treated them well and tried to give them a life of dignity. The 99% of workers are converted Christians belief who took a new name a new identity and a new selfdom which was again given to them and chosen by them.
They worked hard during the day to make the tea garden a profitable venture and in the evening, they strengthen their faith. They were deprived of their land, identity and traditions to make them civilized but have they really become civilized? Or they have turned slaves? The tea estate which is no longer own by the missionaries has become more profit oriented than human oriented. With the change of management, the values and the concept on which the tea garden also changed. People were less important than the money. But, the tea garden workers were happy with what they were getting. No one ever thought of revolting or even protesting as they do not feel that what is done to them is injustice. They consider it as their destiny and they feel that they have no other option but to keep living their lives in these gardens. They learned a new way of life called “BAGANIS” which means those belongs to the garden.
They have not many dreams and their world are small but the pain of living like a foreigner agonizes many of them. Many feels that their children should have a better future than that they have but they do not see much hope as now they can not go back to their home land in Jharkhand and they see nothing but acers of land covered under tea plantation. The whole dialogue with Mr. Benedict has made me reflect on the lives of a tribal.  I was left with the question IS THERE A POSSIBILITY OF CHANGE? Can there be a better future?  But do these tribal really want to move out of their cozy life of garden where everything remains the same and they have almost everything which they need to survive a house, food, market school, church, livelihood etc.  
But as the name of the tea garden ‘MORNAI’ which means (it is not mine) verbalizes the unspoken truth nothing belongs to them. They are outsiders and they have to live a life of a foreigners which was never accepted by the local Assamese people. A lot of questions come in my mind but all are do not have an answers. Some are better to be unanswered but we need to raise questions and we need to critically reflect on the existence of human being which matters the most. The tribal though in a new land is still a tribal and no one deny the fact though his new identity as Baganis has tried very hard to wipe it off. Finally, Mr. Benedict say “ Nothing can wipe off our past how progressive we become the tribal that we are will always be and will remain till eternity’




Vivian lopes

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