It has been almost ten years since my visit to Gajapati in 2012. I have visited many more tribal places in these ten years. I have gained more experience and insights. I have heard many stories from colleagues who have worked in remote areas of the state. What we all have experienced in common is that rural Odisha is changing. Change is inevitable, yes, but what we mean by ‘change’ is ‘losing’. People are losing their traditionality which constitutes their identity. I have heard from a photographer who has worked at Bonda (tribe) hill in Malkanagiri that Bonda ladies are using mobile phones and listening to songs from their headphones. Similar stories have always created a conflict between my heart and conscience. My conscience asks ‘so you don’t want the tribal people to be developed, to be included in the mainstream! You don’t want them to use mobile phones, have education or healthcare!’ But my heart wants to see them practicing their ancient customs, traditions, rituals, and culture for eternity.

In 2019, I finally worked to resolve this conflict- no, not by seeking answers but by an attempt to preserve what is being lost. We decided to collect various songs and dances of several primitive tribes of Odisha in an audio-visual format – solely for archival purposes. We also planned to make a documentary film to highlight the reasons behind this cultural loss. We began the filming in 2019 and finished the production in 2021. The last tribe which we covered, in the end, was Lanjia Soura.

Since the beginning of this project, I was curious about this tribe especially ‘how I am going to face Seranga’. I was very much aware of the fact that there might have been drastic changes made to the place. Since most of the people in 2012 had adapted Christianity what would have left after ten years! I don’t know if I am lucky or not, I did not have to see the new Seranga. We could not get a contact person for Seranga. I was trying to get in touch with Gunju Gomango but heard he has passed away a few years ago. Hence, we decided to cover Puttasing near Gunpur of Rayagada district where very few Lanjia Souras are still living.

We reached Puttasing in January 2021. It was situated deep in the hills at a distance of 20 kilometers from Gunpur. When we entered the village, I felt a resemblance to Seranga. No, no clouds were touching the windows of huts but the vibe was more or less the same. There were those same stone walls. The houses were built below the road, their agricultural land was similarly encircled by mountains. I was delighted but not ecstatic. I probably had lost the innocence which I once had. Amidst nature and beauty, I could see all that has been lost. The Lanjia Souras we met are the few remaining of the tribe. The contact person who was accompanying us on that trip was also a Lanjia Soura but he had a photo of Mother Merry in his car.

My trip to Seranga in 2012 had not gained me enough knowledge about Lanjia Soura which this trip to Puttasing did. Those few remaining people were the real Lanjia Souras who are still practicing their customs and traditions. They are not wearing their traditional attire every day but have kept them for special occasions. The day we filmed their songs and dances they all had put on their traditional costumes. Apart from the sun, trees, and streams, Lanjia Soura worships their ancestors. They maintain a connection with the underworld – with the spirit of their ancestors. And this connection, this relationship is reflected in their songs, dances, customs, and rituals. The white line drawing on a red background which has become the basis of all ‘tribal art’ is originally Lanjia Soura’s painting called Idital.

And the surprising part is it might appear a painting to the world, but it actually is a form of worshipping for the Lanjia Soura. In recent times, they have adapted this drawing as a livelihood opportunity but traditionally they were not doing this with an aesthetic purpose. These paintings imbibe the history of their ancestors and resonate deep symbolic significance of one’s time spent in this world. Lanjia Souras consider the ‘underworld’ as just ‘another world’, hence death to them is not as big as it is to us. Since they maintain a connection with the person still after their departure, they don’t consider death as something as ‘loss’. I felt there are few similarities between their and our Jagannath culture.

We also came across a person from that community who has knowledge of traditional medicine. We heard that he has a habit of going to the forest every day and collect different leaves, roots, and flowers which he uses to treat many diseases which the modern medicines fail to cure. We wrapped our filming and left Puttasing with a heavy heart. I knew I was seeing those Soura people for the last time. I heard that there was no more shaman left in that vicinity who can perform the worship. I also heard the news about Seranga from that contact person. He said there is not a single Lanjia Soura left in Seranga. All have been converted to Christianity. I wondered- whose fault is this! – who should have saved these tribes from being converted! I remember what Gunju Gomango had said to me in Seranga in 2012. He told me how Christian missionaries slowly lure one to adapt their religion – if someone is suffering from any kind of disease, they call him to church and give him the appropriate medicine as something as from Jesus. As the poor man previously had not been provided or had no access to the proper medication, once he accepts the medicine given to him as Jesus’s gift and be cured, he develops a new belief.

On the first day on our way to Puttasing, I have seen several big and small churches spread across the region. Their presence has generated mixed feelings inside me. If the missionaries are providing the basic facilities to these villagers or tribe which their own people have failed to provide in the first place, then who I am to think negatively about them. If they are happy and content with their presence then who I am to yearn about their past!

We went to a hilltop for filming a sunset on the last day of our stay. There was a tiny beautiful village just before the top of the hill which we crossed on our way to the top. By the time we returned, it was evening and dark. That tiny village looked even more beautiful in the dark. I never visited Himachal Pradesh or Jammu Kashmir but from what I have seen on the TV, I can see those in that small village. We had parked our vehicle in that village because the motorable road had ended there. As we were packing things up, I noticed a small church in the middle of the village. It was evening; hence a prayer recital was being played on the church’s loudspeaker. While I was sitting on the stone wall and glancing at the view for one last time, a villager came near me. He stood there for few seconds and asked very gently – “why you people are here?” I had heard that christian missionary people are a little insecure and don’t generally like the presence of outsiders in the village. But that man was just a villager and curious about our work. I replied equally gently – “we are doing a film on Lanjia Soura people. We heard the sunset is most beautiful if seen from this hill of yours.” He nodded and smiled then asked again – “what the film is about? Is there a hero and heroine?” I too smiled and replied – “no, it is a documentary film. We are showing how Soura people are, how they live, how they sing, how they dance.”

The man remained silent for few seconds. He was observing our activities. “We are not how we once were. Lots of things have changed.” – he uttered after a while. I was unable to guess his tone, I just repeated “yes, the time has changed”. “No sir, we have changed” – he said looking at his feet. I looked at him and realized he was a little shy and still wanted to have a conversation. He went on – “sir, do you know why we are called Lanjia Soura?” I said “yes, when males put on their traditional costume, they get a tail (lanja means tail) from the waistcloth they wear.” Very calmly he said- “yes sir but we don’t wear those anymore. You can hardly find those costumes anywhere. Two-three people had those clothes but they burned them or buried them somewhere.” I politely asked “why”. He replied – “they were forced to.” I knew the force he was referring to so remained silent. “Those clothes were with us from generations. Our forefathers had made them”, he then paused for a while. “Those times were good”, he continued, “living was a peaceful thing. Everybody was calm. Everything was in harmony. Even if there is any conflict, people quarrel but then go to the forest, have salapa (natural forest liquor collected from the sap of sago palm tree) and forget everything the next day. But not anymore. Now people talk and pass remarks – how and why he got so much money, how he built such a concrete house, he must be doing something ill to have so much money. We had no enemy back then, but now people are each other’s enemy. Money is not a source of joy anymore; it has become life’s sole goal and source of envy.” He stopped for few seconds. “But now you have roads, you have water supply, you have electricity, these solar lights, you have schools!”, I asked him. He replied “yes sir these solar lights are very good, it runs till 4 o’clock in the morning”, he then paused again and said “but we used to dance around bonfires. We love to dance. And sing. Whenever the occasion calls for, we dance. Whenever there is a celebration, we dance.” I knew but still asked him “on which occasions Soura people dance!”. “We dance on Nuakhai. We dance on Kandul. We dance when someone marries, we dance when someone dies, we dance when kids are born. We had festivals throughout the year. But now we don’t have any occasions.” I asked him the reason. “We only dance once a year. That is during December 25th and sometimes on 1st January. Yes, we also dance very rarely on marriages”, he replied. I asked if there is any non-Christian person left in that village. “No one, sir. That old woman whose house you must have crossed on your way to the mountain top was refusing to be Christian. But eventually, she agreed. She was the shaman of this village”, he said. I guessed the old woman he was referring to. Actually, her home was the only house we saw which was a traditional Lanjia Soura hut. I asked the man if that old woman still knows the shamanic practices. He replied “she knows. How can she forget. She was shaman all her life. But she is not practicing that anymore. Initially, she was very adamant. But she was forced to stop that as she has a new god now.” I asked if she is in charge of the church. “No, we have a father. She is just an ordinary lady now. But believe me, she used to be a powerful person in our village. People were obeying her. But now she is living in that old hut alone. Her man has passed away. She is not causing any problems but she is obviously maintaining a distance.” We were all packed and ready to leave. I wanted to spend some more time there with that man. I felt he was being nostalgic. His last words were something like this “Sir, we were illiterate back then but we were wise. Now we are educated but have become fool.”

PS: I also heard that after the conversion, people were forced to erase the sacred Idital painting from their walls and punished if they don’t. I also heard that people have to pay 10% of their monthly earnings to the church in this area.