A JOURNEY ...........

When i was kid i quite often used to accompany my father in the various cultural awareness programmes he used to take part.
And the most popular item in the show used to be “golla suddullu”. golla is the name of a caste in Andhra Pradesh and there livelyhood is cattle rearing especially sheep and suddullu means good versus. Golla suddullu is form of street play famous in telangana region of Andhra Pradesh. This form of street play was always crucial in enlightening people about society telling them stories of local deities and there fight against evil earlier. but many cultural troupes these days use it for educating them on the various burning issues concerned to there livelihood.
I remember the song with which they usually start this play.
“Rajulu marina gaani rojulu maarina gaani !!! ....”
“Maaraledu mana brathukulu theeraledu mana baadalu!!!........”
exactly it is same and these versus are true even to date at any point of time and usually the play ends in educating the crowd the importance of a united struggle to solve a burning issue.
I was travelling along with a fellow friend to a village xxx of xx mandal of rangareddy district to participate in the 13 day cycle yatra organized by kula vivaksha porata sangham (KVPS) - Struggle Committee against Caste Discrimination. It was on 9the day since the yatra started. The purpose of the yatra is educate the masses on the evils of caste discrimination. It was aimed at doing more than singing some songs or playing street plays to educate people.
Geographically the Rangareddy district engulfed the much hyped hitech city Hyderabad. But this has done no good to the oppressed living here. There is no change in the conditions of the vast set of dalits living in this area even after 58 years of independence. Sri B.V Raghavulu the vice - president of KVPS, led the yatra. In my half-day participation I had the opportunity to see the conditions in three villages. I joined the other drum beaters from various villages in ranga reddy we were walking in front of the yatra in every village. The sound of the drums were reckoning as if they are the wakening call for the dalits. It was a call asking them to come join hands, be united and fight aginst 59 kinds of discriminations they are facing even to date in the so called the biggest democracy of the world. It is a shame to the civilized world. In each of these villages the forms of discriminations were almost similar. Its not just in the villages but all the villages the cycle yatra passed by. The most prominent forms of discrimination were untouchability, denying a shave or hair- cut to dalits by village barbers, separate utensils maintained for dalits and upper caste people in hotels. A human being can live with out food for a day or two but can he live with out water?? And these dalits are denied even that they are not allowed to take water from village public wells or hand pumps they all travel miles to fetch a pot of water, and many a times that is not at all hygienic. Thousands of dalits all around the state lived all there life with out even knowing how the deity of god in the temple looks like. There are thousands who might have crossed even there 70’s but never entered village temple.
These are the people who clean the filth of the whole village. They are the people who kick-start the journey of dead to heaven. They tear out there skins to make shoes to protect others feet but unfortunately the dalit wadas are most of the time unhygienic, they do not have minimum eminities of sanitation, forget about there feet they lead the most unprotected lives, all there life they live in hell.
The yatra moved from village to village opposing all forms of discrimination. Braking utensils as mark to end the separate utensils in hotels. Forcing the barbers to perform shave and hair-cut to dalits. The yatra told the people that they have the law on their side. The practice of untouchability is a crime and people practising are punishable anywhere from 9 to 18 years.
In the places were dalits were not allowed into temples we led them into temples. I can still see the happiness in the eyes of XXXXXX. He is dallari of the village the man who burns the effigies of the dead. he is over 80 years of age born brought up in the same village he never saw how idol of the god looks like. on the first instance he was hesitant but when my compatriot took by hand into the temple he prayed to the god from his heart and it looked like he fealt from then on he is in independent india he thanked the group hugged my compatriot who led him into temple and tears of happines roled instantly over his tired, sweating cheeks. he said probably he is still alive to see this day.
I wanted to play the same balley of palle siddulu here and every where else and say aloud "rojulu kachitanga maaruthaayi kaani adi jaragaalante daaniki sangathitha poratame margam."(the days ahead will definately change, but only through united struggles). when the rest of the group who joined the cycle yatra were spreading the same message assuring them full support from KVPS. I was speaking it out aloud the drum(dappu in my hand playing it along with dalits and other cultural activists who participated in the yatra.