बावा जित्तो — Bawa Jitto | Ram Nath Shastri

Preface

Historical Context: This play is set within the feudal Jagir system of Duggar (the Jammu region), where landlords (Jagirdars) extracted crops and forced labour (Begar) from tenant-serfs.
Bawa Jitto's Significance: Bawa Jitto is a revered Dogra folk hero and a powerful symbol of peasant resistance against feudal tyranny, worshipped in many Dogri communities to this day.
Note on Characters: Rano and Bua Gouri are the same character. Rano is an affectionate Dogri term for a young girl, while Bua (elder sister/aunt) is a respectful honorific.

Cast of Characters

Scene One

[The forest of Jasrota. Night. The beat of a drum tells of a deity's gathering among the trees. A disciple of the Baba holds a censer; a single lamp burns; people sit about, swaying their heads.]

Man No. 1: Sing us the verses of the Baba's Karak.

Jogi: [Softening the drumbeat] The house of Rupo the Thakur fell to ruin; Narayan kindled faith anew. Under a fortunate star the Baba was born, and the women sang their songs of joy.

[A loud beat on the drum]

Men & Women: Hail to the Baba! Hail to the Giver!

Jogi: [Singing the Karak] The pandit was summoned to the courtyard; by the stars his name was chosen. The pandit named him Raso — and Jitamal was he named.

Disciple: Hail to the Baba.

Men & Women: Hail to the Baba.

Disciple: Hail, Bawa Jitto.

Men & Women: Hail, Bawa Jitto.

[The drum and the cheering merge into one. A woman is seized by the spirit; she begins to sway and toss her head wildly, her loosened hair flying. At that moment two soldiers of the King of Jasrota enter, spears in hand, striding swiftly back and forth.]

Two Soldiers: [Levelling their spears] Silence — be still! What is this din you have raised?

Soldier No. 1: The Government of Jasrota has come to this forest to hunt, and you have brought the whole jungle down about its ears.

[The drum starts up again. The people sway as before, chanting the Baba's name.]

Two Soldiers: [Striking the people with the butts of their spears] Are you deaf? Do you not hear what we say? Has your hour come? The Government of Jasrota —

[The King of Jasrota enters; the drum falls silent.]

King: Stop this folly! My soldiers have warned you and warned you to be quiet, and still you raise the whole forest on your heads.

[The drum beats again, the people sway, and the chant resumes.]

People: Hail, Baba! Hail, Bawa Jitto!

King: Who are you? And who is this Baba of yours, that has filled you with such insolence?

A Voice: Hail to the Baba! Hail to Bawa Jitto!

King: [Angrily] Baba, Baba, Baba! Who is this Baba of yours, that sets you dancing in the forest at dead of night? Why do you not answer? Why do you not speak?

A Voice: Hail, Bawa Jitto — hail to the Giver.

King: [Beside himself] Soldiers — what are you gaping at? Strike them! Smash their drums to splinters.

[The two soldiers fall on the people, who drop senseless. The drumming stops.]

King: [In anger and bewilderment] Who is this Baba of theirs? From where is this deity, whose worship robs these people of themselves? [Loudly] What mummery is this you have got up? Who is this Baba?

Man No. 1: [Rising, fierce] You do not know Bawa Jitto, you proud man?

Man No. 2: That Bawa Jitto who lit the flame of truth.

Man No. 3: That Bawa Jitto who held high the honour of honest toil.

Man No. 1: That Bawa Jitto who fought the battle for his rights.

Man No. 2: Bawa Jitto, who defied the tyranny of Mehta Bir Singh.

Man No. 3: Bawa Jitto, who set a dagger to his own breast and dyed the grain of his right blood-red.

Voices: That Bawa Jitto. That Bawa Jitto.

[The voices die slowly away. The stage darkens. All depart.]

Scene Two

[The Jogi sings to the tune of the Karak, blending the notes of drum and sarangi]

At the foot of Trikuta lies the beloved village of Gwar.
The streams run murmuring; the pines wave their whisks.
A lamp was kindled in this land — and Jitto was its name.
One is Jitto, the other his innocent girl; there is no third.
He lives in honesty, earns by his toil; farming is his calling.
Yet the wicked will not let him be — malice fills their every pore.
Aunt Jojan, the devouring witch, nurses evil in her heart;
she goads her sons, and sets them on to Jitto.
O my Lord!

[The drum and sarangi fade slowly. Jojan's seven sons come on, dancing and singing in a ring.]

Jagat 1: A sharp dagger ——— Brother Jitto,

The rest: Sly and cunning ——— Brother Jitto.

Jagat 2: The fairest fields ——— they are Jitto's,

The rest: The finest grain ——— it is Jitto's.

All: Alas, Jitto! … Alas, Jitto!

[On from one side and off at the other. Jitto enters bearing a plough. Bua Gouri — in suthan, kurta, and a bordered shawl — follows her father, a brightly burnished water-pot on her head.]

Jitto: Why do you keep looking back, Gouri? It is not even full dawn, daughter — why have you come out with me?

Gouri: I'll do the weeding alongside you.

Jitto: But why? And why go to bathe at the spring so early?

Gouri: Who else is there to bathe you, Father? Do your idols not need their bathing? That is why I'm fetching water from the stream. I thought — if I walk slowly with you, I'll meet a few people coming and going on the way back. And besides, I'm a little afraid to go alone.

[She turns down another path]

Jitto: [Watching her go, then turning toward Mata Vaishno Devi's hills] O Mother Vaishno, you gave me this child — and no sooner was she born than you called her mother to you. This motherless girl is my one support — and yours. Keep your sheltering hand upon her head always, Mother.

[He bows his head and moves on. Jitto's old aunt Jojan enters, slinking down from the upper fields like a cat gathering to pounce. A hush falls; the light dims. From the far side Gouri returns, the water-pot on her head. From behind the curtain, voices sing:]

Buy me, buy me, buy me, Father —
buy me a pretty basket.
Buy me dolls, my own dear Father,
buy me a spinning-top from Pothohar.
The dolls are studded with pearls, and bordered with gold.
I'll toss the ball this way and that, catch it left and right —
the ball has slipped from my hands; what an evil omen, poor me!

[Aunt Jojan laughs an evil laugh and is suddenly there before her]

Jojan: Don't go bathing at the spring, girl — someone might just devour you.

Gouri: If Aunt hasn't eaten anyone yet, she'll dry the spring up first.

Jojan: [With a monstrous laugh] Oho, brave one — brave indeed! So full of spirit, are you? Then save yourself! I ate your mother's heart too. Today I'll eat you — and tomorrow your father, that Jitto.

[She laughs, a great rolling peal. Thunder rumbles, lightning flashes; the light goes out entirely. Jojan chants her spells and laughs. A shock runs through Gouri; she gives a terrified scream, the water-pot falls, and she pitches forward onto the ground. Jojan goes off with a screech. Hearing the cry, villagers come running.]

Man No. 1: Who screamed?

Man No. 2: What manner of scream was that? Who cried out?

Man No. 3: It had the sound of a child.

Man No. 4: But who was that woman, laughing like thunder in the dark?

Man No. 1: [Looking toward Gouri] But who is this? [Going closer] Look here — who is this?

Man No. 2: It's Bua Gouri — Bawa Jitto's Rano! Was it she who screamed? I must go and tell Jitto. [Goes]

Man No. 1: [Bowing his head] I understand. There is no one else who would frighten her — it is Jitto's aunt, the witch Jojan. Her shadow has fallen across the child.

Man No. 3: What quarrel can she have with this innocent girl?

Man No. 1: The poison of a family feud runs deep. All this spite is to seize Jitto's lands. Those seven sons of hers are fools to a man, and swollen with pride — they make a misery of the life of anyone they mark.

[Jitto arrives with Man No. 2]

Jitto: [Snatching Gouri up into his arms — with a heavy sigh] I told you, Gouri, not to go out alone in the dark. But when do you ever heed me?

Man No. 1: Brother Jitto — this is all your aunt Jojan's doing. It was right here she stood, laughing like thunder.

Jitto: Tell me — what wrong have I ever done Aunt Jojan, or her sons? Since my own mother passed, she has been as a mother to me.

Man No. 3: To hold a grudge without cause is the very mark of evil people, Jitto! Guard this child from that witch's malice. You are a devotee of Vaishno — may the Goddess keep this innocent under the shadow of her hands.

Man No. 2: But guard yourself too, brother! If those seven demons see us standing here talking with you, they may burn our crops as well.

[He glances at the villagers, then at Gouri.]

[Jitto bears her away with long strides.]

Man No. 1: Jitto is sunk deep in sorrow.
Man No. 2: And yet one must own — he is a true man, a man of pure heart.
Man No. 3: Can we not help him in some way?
Man No. 1: Put our heads together — and what can we do? Tomorrow this same trouble may come down on us. Do I speak false?

Scene Three

Jitto: [Opening his eyes] Speak, O keeper of the serpent-faith — show your power, here and now. Whoever comes to your refuge, fulfil their every hope.

[Drumbeat]

[The spirit of Gugga descends upon Jitto; his head sways.]

Jitto: Hail to the King. Hail to Gugga. Hail to the Giver.

[He performs a spirit-expelling rite over the prostrate Bua Gouri.]

Jitto: [Loudly] Why do you not give up your secret? Who are you?

Gouri: [Lying still] Oh, I am dying, Father. Oh — my heart.

[She sits up and tears at her hair.]

Jitto: Who has cast this spell on you, Gouri? Who is it? [He takes up the iron chains and begins to lash his own back. At the rear, Aunt Jojan becomes visible; as the chain falls on Jitto's back, Jojan starts as though the blows land on her.]

Gouri: [In Jojan's voice] Stop, Jitto! Let me go. I am leaving her.

Jitto: Who are you?

Gouri: I am Jojan — your aunt, Jojan.

[Jitto swings the chain again.]

Gouri: Forgive me, Jitto. I will never again say a word to this girl.

[Villagers' voices — "Jojan is a witch, a witch! Never forgive her, Jitto!"]

Gouri: [Sitting up, herself again] Father — what came over me? I am well now, Father! I am quite well again.

Scene Four

[Jojan comes along, humming, with a swaying step. A villager comes up behind her.]

Man No. 1: Aunt Jojan! You look very pleased with yourself — where are you off to?

Jojan: I'm going to feed my seven strapping sons.

Man No. 1: Look to your sons, by all means — but spare a thought for that other son too. Jitto — who else?

Jojan: Don't speak his name to me. What of him?

Man No. 1: Yesterday Jitto's girl, Gouri, gave a great scream and fell in a faint. And there, before everyone, he called you a witch.

Jojan: Jitto — call me a witch? He dares? Me — the mother of seven sons?

The world has turned a battlefield, with quarrels at every turn.
The wicked will not let the good man live; for the good there is no place.
Seven sons, all fools and bullies, with neither sense nor thought —
one stubborn end they hold to: to wipe out Jitto's name.

[Jojan comes onto the stage wailing. Her seven sons enter shouting "Heli! Heli!"; seeing their mother weep, they ring themselves behind her.]

Jagat 1: Who has spoken ill of you, Mother?

Jagat 2: Whose hour has come?

Jojan: [Weeping] No one spoke ill of me — it is that you seven sons are worthless! Jitto has called me a witch!

All the Jagats: What! Jitto called you a witch?

[They flex their arms and clench their fists in fury.]

Jagat 1: Up, Mother — dry these tears. We will kill that Jitto who called you a witch.

All: We will kill that Jitto. We will not let that Jitto live.

Scene Five

[On the stage, Jitto passes by carrying a plough. Behind him, Aunt Jojan's sons steal in on tiptoe.]

Jagat 1: [Signing with his hands] Where has he gone? [Singing low] Then call on the name of Kalibir.

Jagat 2: Run on ahead and reach the Dadla, that cliff over there.

Jagat 3: Are we all going?

Jagat 4: You're a coward, brother. Coward I may be — but we have to push him over.

Jagat 5: If he comes through this alive, the whole village will know, and our hour will come. Remember that.

All: Hail, Kali of Calcutta! We will fill your empty skull-bowl.

Jitamal walks ahead, the seven brothers behind;
above the Dadla they stood, and they pushed Jitto down.
Falling, falling, Bawa Jitamal swooned —
Mandlik caught him up, and saved his life.

Jogi: Good people! King Mandlik caught the Baba in the palms of his hands; not a hair of his head came to harm. But, friends, Jitto bethought himself — why not lay his case before the village Panchayat one more time?

[The village council. Jojan sits draped in a white sheet, her sons behind her. Facing them sit Jitto and Gouri.]

Sarpanch: Let Jojan first lay her case before the elders.

Jojan: [Tearful] Sarpanch-ji, this Jitto has branded me a witch. He has seized more than half of our lands. Let the Panches do me justice.

Jitto: Panches — let me ask: has Jitto ever done a single soul in this village any wrong? Four days ago I was rolled off the Dadla. Those who pushed me sit right there — Aunt Jojan's seven sons; and I am one man alone. How many times am I to save my life from them?

Jojan: [Springing up] It is all a made-up lie, Panches! Could a man be flung off a cliff and not so much as get a scratch?

Sarpanch: Sit down, Jojan.

Jitto: The fences of my fields are broken down. Cattle are driven into the fair standing crop to lay it waste. My one plea here is that justice be done.

Sarpanch: Jitto — there was no written record of your division of the land. The only way to settle it is to divide all of it afresh, in eight equal shares. As for your being pushed off the cliff — you have brought no eyewitness, so the Panchayat can lay the blame on no one. Without proof, justice cannot be done, Jitto!

Jagat 1: Hail to the Panch Parameshwar!

Jitto: [Rising] Panches — I have made my decision. I will hand over all my land to Aunt Jojan, leave the village of Gwar, and go elsewhere. It grieves me that the soil of this village has lost the fragrance of honour — that we have grown so craven we dare not call the darkness by its name. My resolve is fixed, Panches!

Scene Six

The Baba spoke, and made his vow, and said to Bua Gouri:
Let us walk away, my daughter — we have no one of our own.
The Bua spoke, and made her vow, and said unto her father:
I'll farm no more, Father — we'll eat the old stored grain.

Gouri: Father! Have you made up your mind, truly, to leave the village?

Jitto: [Sighing] Yes, daughter. Yesterday's Panchayat shattered every illusion I had.

Gouri: To leave so beautiful a place — where will we go, Father? The hills of Mother Vaishno, and the sweet water, sweet as nectar!

Jitto: [Wiping his eyes] The springs of this earth's affection have run dry for us, Rano. You are Maya's own trust, daughter — and to break my spirit, these base people have begun to strike at you too. We can stay here no longer.

Gouri: In a strange land, who will give us ground to till? And have you not heard, Father — the masters of the lowlands are hard men…

Jitto: We are people who trust in the toil of our ten fingers. And while you are at my side, I feel as though Mother Vaishno herself were with me.

Gouri: [Tearful] The tales of our forefathers are bound up with these old walls, Father. To whom do we leave them?

Jitto: [Stroking her head] Come, daughter — let us go from here in this twilight.

Gouri: How can we just leave, Father? Is all of this to be left behind?

Jitto: We are farmers, daughter. For us, a plough, a yoke, and a pair of oxen — these are what we need. With their help we will build our nest anew.

Gouri: [Beginning to weep] But Father — this place, this courtyard… and mother's keepsake, this Tulsi plant…

Jitto: Tie your toys up in a cloth, and look your last on this place. Bow, child, to Mother Durga — and let us go.

[From the wings, the sound of a dholki and chimta. Aunt Jojan's seven sons come on, dancing to a Geetdu.]

Jagat 1: There'll be no more dispute — the matter is settled.
All: The water set apart, the milk set apart. O Mother — our brother has run off, showing us his back! [Singing, they go off the stage.]

[On the far side, Baba Jitto walks on, carrying plough and yoke; Bua Gouri walks beside him, turning again and again to look back.]

Jitto: What is it, Gouri? Are you tired?

Gouri: No, Father. I'm listening for the people. Will the villagers not come to call us back?

Jitto: [With a sorrowful laugh] What vain hopes you cling to, daughter. No one is coming to call us back. Come along, child.

Scene Seven

[A man cries out an order from Mehta Bir Singh to the tenant-subjects of the Jagir.]

Announcer: By order of the Jagirdar Sahib! Today he goes to the hunt. From every house in Shamachak, one young man must present himself for the Chaadh.

[The beaters come on from one side, beating tins and canisters. A man's scream is heard — "Alas, a leopard has mauled him!" An old, dishevelled man enters.]

Old Man: Alas! O Mehta — Bir Singh! O leopard! Tell me — where is my son Fandi? He went to your Begar; why has he not come back?

Irso: [Limping in] Baba Chataru — take heart. Where is your Fandi to come from now? I am Irso Megh. I too was driven to beat for the Mehta's hunt, when a leopard set upon me.

Chataru: Why must we bear this Begar at these landlords' hands, son?

Irso: [Sighing] We are their tenant-subjects, Baba. We have borne this Begar since our forefathers' time. Who can count the young men dead of it, or crippled? We poor folk have only ever endured. Endure it too.

Chataru: [The stick falls from his hand; he tears at his hair] How am I to endure it? How?

Irso: Endure it, or die weeping. These dense forests, these man-eating leopards — they heed no man's cry.

Chataru: What manner of rulers are ours, that drink the blood of their own people?

Kill no man's young son.
All three wander like men gone mad. My Lord!

Scene Eight

[Baba Jitto and Bua Gouri come on, driving a pair of oxen.]

Gouri: O Father — I am weary of walking, Father.

Jitto: We are nearly there, daughter. Let us ask someone where Rullo's house is.

[Irso Megh comes limping out.]

Jitto: Ho, brother — are you of this place?

Irso: I am; but you have the look of strangers. I am a Megh — Irso Megh. What has brought you from the village of Gwar, with plough and yoke and oxen?

Jitto: It is a long tale, brother Irso — and just now we are dead with fatigue. Will you do us a kindness, and show us the way to Rullo's house?

Irso: It is my good fortune. Give me the plough and yoke — I'll carry them. [He takes up the plough and yoke. All three go off.]

Scene Nine

[The courtyard of Rullo's house. Rullo the blacksmith sits by his furnace; Jitto sits on a mat; Gouri sleeps on a rug; the Old Thakur and Irso sit by.]

Jyuni: [Coming out from within] Brother-in-law — I say it for your own good: you should go back to your village. Innocent folk like you cannot last here.

Rullo: [Angrily] What "good" is this you speak? You are bent on driving the poor man out of here.

Jitto: Sister-in-law, there is no going back for us now. I came here in the hope that, could I but get a few kanals of land to till, I might pass these days in your good company.

Old Man: They are good people. Surely some arrangement can be made.

Jyuni: Brother-in-law, we have not so much as a back yard to grow chillies in. These estates are the dens of tyrants. Don't lay a snare for them, blacksmith!

Rullo: You're forever foreseeing trouble for everyone else. Take the poor child and lay her on the cot. Brother Jitto — the Mehta is a tyrant, but for land we must go to him. I am on good terms with the Mehta's manager. We'll go first thing in the morning.

Scene Ten

[The Mehta's sitting room. A carpet is spread on the floor.]

Malli: [Mockingly] Thakur Sahib — how does the saying go? What's given by hand is hard to untie with the teeth! You've come very early today!

Thakur: I am a man in need, Sapoliya-ji. I have come to seek justice of the Mehta.

Ghagghi: The poor man too is the Government's subject! It is his right to plead for justice.

Mehta: Manager-ji — call both parties some day, and we'll settle it. [The Thakur leaves. Rullo the blacksmith and Jitto stand to one side.]

Mehta: [Looking Jitto over, head to foot] What is your name?

Jitto: Jitto, Sarkar.

Malli: [With a loud laugh] Is that a name or a benediction? Jitto Sarkar! State your name properly.

Ghagghi: His name is Jitto, Mehta-ji. His cruel kinsmen seized his land, and so he was driven to flee here.

Mehta: If he is of the Brahmin caste, why does he farm? Put him in some temple. Why should the poor man do such heavy labour?

Jitto: Farming is no disgrace, Mehta-ji. The farmer eats the bread of his own toil.

Rullo: It is his wish, my Lord, that if a small piece of land be given him to till, he will become your tenant-subject and live under your protection.

Malli: Is the service of the Thakurs, then, a lowly trade?

Jitto: I hold farming to be a worship of the Thakurs as well. I cannot give up the calling of my forefathers.

Mehta: A wan, washed-out Brahmin — and what is it you have come to ask of me?

[Nodding] Very well, very well. Manager-ji, we have that land in the forest just now. Give him a piece of it — one ghumaon.

Ghagghi: [Hesitating] Sir — that barren, stony tract! How will the poor man ever bring it under the plough?

Malli: [Sarcastically] He's a hill farmer, Manager-ji. Isn't that so, Jitto?

Jitto: I accept it, Sir. The Goddess Durga is my helper.

Mehta: Come — we'll grant him one further favour. We'll not take the half-share of the crop from him; we'll take only the fourth.

Ghagghi: As the Government commands. Hear the terms, brother Jitto:

By order of the Jagirdar, be it set down in agreement that the Government consents to grant Jitto one ghumaon of land; and that Mehta-ji, in his favour, will take but a fourth share of the crop. The Mehta has set his ink to it; Jitto has set his thumb to it. Iti Shubham.

Jitto: [Bowing his head] You have shown great kindness, Sir. [To Irso] You are to be my farming partner in this work, Irso-ji — put your trust in Mother Vaishno Devi. Come, let us go.

Irso: To clear that hard, thorned forest and make it fit to farm is a most difficult task. I am the keeper of that forest. And it is not the wild beasts alone that are to be feared — there are beasts in this Jagir far more dangerous than they.

Scene Eleven

Jogi: Mark the chance of it — the same Rullo who forged Jitto's tools forged him too a sharp, heavy dagger, three-quarters of a seer in weight. But first let us see how Jitto breaks in the new land.

[The forest of Shamachak. Jitto and Irso come on with axes; Gouri sits on a mound.]
Jitto: O Mother Vaishno — Irso and I have joined hands in this work. Be our companion, Mother! [The two men go toward the forest and mime the felling of a tree. It crashes down. Irso strikes up a work-song.]
Irso: The tree is heavy ——— [from the wings] Yes-oh-yes!
Irso: Put your whole strength to it ——— [all] Yes-oh-yes!
Old Thakur: [Coming out] You are true to your word ——— [all] Yes-oh-yes!
Ghagghi: [Arriving] Well done, lads — sons of lions! Go gently at it, Jitto — sit, and rest a while. [All leave.]

Scene Twelve

In Saawan he felled the trees…
In Assu he ploughed, and sowed the grains of wheat.

Jogi: Good people! A great wonder came to pass. For the first time that earth's lap was filled with a mother's love — and today this swaying, dancing, marvellous crop of wheat stands to be seen.

[Jitto, Irso, Rullo, the Old Thakur, and some villagers come on, dancing and singing.]
Irso: [Dancing] The gram of the moonlight… (All) Se-u-aa!
Old Thakur: [Dancing] The wheat stands in plenty… (All) Se-u-aa! There'll be heaps of grain… (All) Se-u-aa! [Dancing so, they go off.]

Malli: Look at the wheat, my Lord! Good God — is this wheat? Look, my Lords — look at the grain! As though some goldsmith had wrought it out of gold! And the masters are to get poor wheat, while these starving hill-animals eat pure bread of this golden grain? It is an outrage, my Lords.

Mehta: [Nodding] Did we give land to that hill farmer hereabouts?

Ghagghi: We did. By the labour of two men, Sir — Irso Megh, the keeper of this very forest, whom Jitto took for his partner.

Jyuni: [Amazed] What wheat is this — so tall, so thick! What strange things you speak, brother-in-law.

Gouri: Father, I have a longing to eat the milk-soft grain. Will you break me two or three ears?

Irso: [Striking up the song] Wait — I'll break them for you myself, Rano!

Jitto: [Stopping him — taking Gouri in his arms] No, no, Irso. We cannot break even a single ear of this shared, undivided wheat just yet. In every grain of every ear, the Mehta is our partner. I am bound by that paper the Mehta drew up; by it, this crop is not mine — in every single grain of it, the Mehta too has a share. Come, daughter — I'll break you a whole basketful of ears from the other fields.

O Fandu — you should not have gone to the Begar.
And the truth was turned to a lie, good people.

[They thresh the wheat and winnow the grain; a heap of wheat rises.]
Old Thakur: The goldsmith knows the worth of gold; the farmer, the worth of the soil. And God alone knows who has done the evil deed.

Scene Thirteen

As the afternoon wanes, Bir Singh Mehta comes, thrusting the tenants aside —
he brings fresh sacks, and he brings a leather whip.

[The heap of wheat stands ready. Irso Megh hums to himself. Then the Mehta, Malli, and their servants come quickly to the threshing-floor. The Mehta stares at the wheat, astonished.]

Mehta: Malli! Where is Jitto? We sent him word to come and divide the wheat — and he is nowhere to be found.

Irso: He was at the threshing with the oxen since morning. That done, he has gone to bathe. I'll send a man to call him.

Malli: We didn't come here to sit and rest. We came to take our share. Here — bring a stick, and divide the heap in two; and load half of this wheat, our share, into the sacks.

Irso: [Coming near with folded hands — then, beaten down, crying out] Do not commit this outrage, my Lord! Let my brother come. And what is this talk of half, Malli Pandit-ji? The Government themselves made a written agreement with Jitto — have you forgotten? I warn you — let no man lay a hand on the wheat! O tyrants — do not rob us in broad daylight! O brother Jitto — robbers have plundered your threshing-floor!

Malli: [Shoving him aside] We know nothing of any agreements. To take the half is our custom. Go — fill the sacks. Hey, Megh — do you not know before whom you stand?

Scene Fourteen

The thread snapped, to stave off the omen; Jitamal came wandering on.
The Brahmin whose threshing-floor was looted comes running —
he calls over the wall: give me the dagger, Mother.

Jyuni: [Looking at Jitto, mocking] Having handed over the threshing-floor, tied up and ready — where are you bounding off to now, brother-in-law? And what will you do with a dagger now, Brahmin?

Jitto: [His hand on the dagger] Mother Blacksmith — quick, fetch me my dagger from within. Do not speak such venomous words now, Mother Blacksmith! If I am a Brahmin's son, Jyuni — then I will show you how to fight. You are my sworn brother, Dagger — guard my honour, my brother. And you, Aunt — here too? Beaten by you, I came to this place; and even here you have not spared me.

Rullo: [Coming in, laughing] Jitto! Hey — what musings have you fallen into?

Jojan: [With a laugh like thunder] What threat am I to you, Jitto — an old widow? The one who is truly upon you, Mehta Bir Singh, has come with all his might to your threshing-floor. Go — beg him for a few grains to eat, or he'll fill his sacks and carry off the lot! Hey, Megh — tell that Jitto of yours that his Aunt Jojan came to ask after his welfare.

Scene Fifteen

[With the blacksmith's dagger thrust into his waistband, both hands clenched into fists, Jitto comes to the threshing-floor. Seeing the Mehta and his armed men, he halts.]

Jitto: [He draws the dagger, leaps up, and stands atop the heap of wheat — and, glaring at the Mehta, cries out in a great voice] Irso! Mehta-ji! Why do you stand in the sun? Go, sit on the cot in the shade. But first call off these men of yours — let them not stitch up those filled sacks. The sacks will not be filled so, Sapoliya. Irso — what are you staring at? You would take all this wheat, Mehta? And where has that written agreement gone — the one in which you yourself consented to a fourth share of the crop? Fear that Lord, Mehta, in whose law this whole universe is bound. Lawlessness and tyranny may bring on looting and robbery — but the sanctity of justice cannot be kept so. Beware — let no man touch one grain of this wheat. Mehta, blind with greed — deny that written word a hundred times if you will… but… we two, Irso and I, have written that very agreement into every grain of this wheat, with our blood and our sweat. You say you will take all the wheat? Then if I let you take one grain more than the fourth part of it, say that no Brahmin woman bore me, but a dog! You have sunk to the very bottom, Mehta! This demon-hunger of yours will not be stilled by dry grain. Here, then — I mix my own blood and flesh into it! Hail Durga! Hail Mother Vaishno!

Irso: [Bound to the tree, in a tearful voice] Brother Jitto! These robbers have plundered the threshing-floor — see what they have done to me. The Mehta says he will take all this wheat — that he will take it by force…

Malli: Mind your manners, Jitto. You are the Mehta's tenant — do not forget it. [Then, to the Mehta] But, my Lord — if this corpse lies here, the people of the whole Jagir may gather, and there will be an uproar. It must be taken from here at once — into the forest, Sir. We'll hide it in such a place that not a crow nor a vulture will find a trace of it. Sir — away from here, away quickly!

Mehta: [Gasping, terror-struck, signalling the servants] No, no, Jitto! Do not do such a thing! Oh — this is the killing of a Brahmin, a Brahma-hatya! What have you done, Jitto? Malli — it is a Brahma-hatya now, Malli. O Ram — what is to become of us? You there — why do you stand frozen? Fill the sacks! And let us see which wretch dares lay a hand on you.

Gouri: [Running in and flinging her arms about Irso — in tears] Father! Uncle Irso — Uncle, where is my father? And what is this blood upon the heap of wheat? Whose blood is spilt here? Irso-ji — where is my father? Who has murdered him? Where is his body? Tell me — where am I to search for my father? I held you back, Father! Do not leave me and go, my Father. What a betrayal you have done me, Father! Taking me by the hand, for what did you bring me to this strange land — only today to leave me all alone, and go where?

Irso: [Weeping] Bua Gouri! That Jagirdar Mehta is your father's murderer, Rano. His men have carried off your father's body. I could do nothing, Rano. Come, daughter — let us go and find your father's body, before God knows what defilement those sinners work upon it.

Old Rukoal: [In a tearful voice] What an outrage this sinner has done!

Great and beautiful is the Dogra land — there is no land like it,
where Bua and Baba are worshipped in the deep forests;
the people come and bow their heads.
A land of sacrifice is our Dogra land — there will be no land like it!

[The curtain falls.]

Glossary of Key Terms:

Karak: A traditional Dogri devotional ballad or folk epic.
Begar: Unpaid forced labour extracted by feudal landlords from their tenants.
Jagir: A feudal land grant or estate.
Panchayat: A village council.
Chaadh: Forced beaters for the landlord's hunt.
Bhyal: An agricultural partner / co-cultivator.
Saami: A bonded subject / serf.
Dadla: The cliff.
Geetdu: A celebratory Dogri folk-song, performed seated, with dholak and chimta.