There was a perfectly round hole on Baske’s forehead! Yes. a hole. One that caught my attention the moment I saw him. I thought at first, he was in the army and got a bullet injury but then rejected the theory the next second! Nobody would probably survive a bullet injury that is exactly at the middle of one's forehead.
When I visited him, he was sitting on a charpoy in his open yard, legs folded close to his chest. When he squinted his eyes to look at us it seemed he was annoyed but, then he smiled at my uncle accompanying me. Baske seemed as old as my uncle but it is difficult to guess the age of any peasant in the countryside working in the field for 10 hours a day from the age of 10…they all look over 60 the moment they reach anywhere near 40. I was in his village working on a project to understand whether tribal culture itself keeps the tribal away from modern medicine. As you can see, I was checking a theorem deeply rooted in the colonial-urban mindset.
My uncle told me Baske is someone I must meet and his story unfolded as under:
In the beginning of 1990s, Baske got to go to his in laws’ place which was a village in a hillock in the West Bengal-Bihar (now Jharkhand) border in the eastern part of India. It was about 20 km from his village. He developed a terrible headache upon reaching there. As it was his in-laws’ place and every son in law deserve special treatment, a Shaman was summoned in no time. Her diagnosis was quick. It had to be the “bonga” - the bad spirit! She made Baske lie on his back and poured a bowlful of mustard oil through his nostrils. Of course the Shaman had said her chants and blew the oil before pouring it! And of course it increased the headache manifolds!! So much so that Baske could not sleep the whole night and had to be taken to a quack (popularly called Rural Medical Practitioners or RMP) who sat some 15 Km. away. He gave some medicines (!!) to Baske and two more days passed. On the third day to his and his kinsmen’s horror Baske found that he had lost his vision and was rushed to the District Hospital which was 60 Km away. So…finally on the fifth day Baske got a proper doctor to look at him. It was found that the oil had lodged itself in his sinus region and had caused an infection there. They drilled a hole in his forehead and drew the liquid out! It was a miracle that Baske saw again…even though partially. He said it was enough for him to carry on his field work. After all he is not a Babu who needs to read fine prints!
Are you still interested in my research in the area? Well, that one month in Baske’s village did wonders to my line of thinking. It screwed it straight! The nearest Subsidiary Health Center was 5 km away and opened only twice a week. Imagine if a child gets bitten by a dog. The nearest Primary Health Center was 15 km away with one visiting doctor. The day I went to meet him he had at least 200 people queuing up for his attention. This center did not have any admission facility. To get admitted one needed to travel 25 km and the less we talk about the facilities the better.
So here are Baske and his lot depending on RMPs (no…not Shamans) for diarrhea, malaria, stomach ache but they did not go that far when they had cold, head aches or small pox…somehow they knew modern medicine has cure for only 26 diseases so far…for the rest there are the age old Shamans…
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