Jangadi (Outsider) to Apna Uncle- Melghat Diary

In the Korku tribal community, the term "Jangadi" carries a specific connotation; it refers to a mischievous individual but is primarily used to describe outsiders, particularly officials and non-tribal people who enter their midst. Essentially meaning "outsider," Jangadi reflects the community's general unease and mistrust towards those who do not share their background or experiences.

The tribe's members engage in conversation, addressing these outsiders with respectful titles like Sir, Saheb, Babu, or Babusaheb when speaking directly. However, in more informal or private settings, they refer to these outsiders as Jangadi, a term that underscores a lingering sense of separation and cultural distinction. This dynamic illustrates not only their cautious approach to unfamiliar people but also their deep-rooted connections to their community.

In my initial month working with the Korku community in Melghat, I encountered a range of challenges that shed light on the community's complex dynamics. During my initial surveys, I noticed that many members were reluctant to provide honest answers; instead, they often gave inaccurate responses, concealing their true problems and concerns.

This behaviour stemmed from a deep-rooted mistrust and the stigma associated with being labelled a "Jangadi," a term that implies mischievousness. Recognizing this, I set out on a mission not only to earn their trust but also to dismantle this negative perception. I approached my work with empathy and a genuine desire to understand their realities, engaging with the community respectfully and transparently. My goal was to foster open communication, encouraging them to share their challenges so we could collaboratively find solutions that would truly benefit them.

As dusk settled in and the workday came to a close, I found myself engaging in informal conversations that began to fill my evenings. These lively sessions included a diverse group of participants—adults sharing their life experiences, women discussing their perspectives, energetic youth exchanging ideas, and even schoolchildren and small toddlers, all bringing their unique viewpoints to the table.

At first, there were whispers among some that Sudhakar was merely indulging in idle chatter. Yet, what they failed to recognize was the depth embedded in these exchanges. For me, these conversations became a crucial avenue for learning and understanding. It was through these informal discussions that I truly grasped the challenges and realities they faced.

As time went on, I found myself not just observing but actively participating in both his public outreach programs and private gatherings, merging these meaningful chats with a deeper commitment to the cause we were discussing.

After six months of tumultuous challenges, it finally seemed like the villagers were starting to view me differently; the label of "Jangadi" was beginning to fade. Yet, I felt an overwhelming need to confirm this change in perception. One day, as I sat on the sun-drenched terrace of the village, engaged in lively conversation, an unfamiliar outsider joined us.

His curious gaze took in the scene, and when he observed me speaking in Hindi, he turned to a local and inquired, "Who is this?" To my dismay, a longtime friend responded, "He is Jangadi." The words hit me like a cold wave, slicing through the warmth of the day. My heart sank at hearing such a dismissive label from someone I trusted and called my friend.

In that moment, the disappointment I felt was far greater than any frustration I had experienced over unfinished projects in the village. The sting of that single word echoed my previous efforts over the past six months, which now seemed futile. I was struck by the realization that despite all my hard work, it felt as if I would forever be branded as "Jangadi" in the minds of the tribal community—a label that conjured images of an outsider, unworthy of respect. The weight of that realization settled heavily upon me, leaving me feeling lost and disheartened.

Following that, my daily work unfolded with a variety of meaningful tasks that directly impacted the community. Each day brought new challenges, whether it was ensuring that individuals received their entitlements on time or organizing camps where people could easily apply for caste certificates. I dedicated my efforts to helping families acquire new ration cards, providing them with essential resources for their day-to-day lives, and facilitating project office plans that would aid in local development.

In addition, I made it a priority to ensure that the construction bills of PMAY house and toilets were paid promptly, recognizing the importance of sanitation in improving health and well-being. My commitment extended to enhancing employment opportunities through the NREGA program, which aimed to provide jobs and support for those in need.

A month drifted by in a blur of routine and familiarity. One bright morning, I found myself sitting on the weathered wooden steps outside my room, the soft light of dawn glinting off my toothbrush as I brushed my teeth. In front of me, a lively four-year-old boy "Gana" was absorbed in his play, his laughter ringing out like music in the stillness of the morning. Just then, a passerby sauntered by and, with a hint of amusement, remarked, "Jangadi man brushing his teeth." The boy, his eyes shining with innocence and pride, looked up with a frown and declared in his adorable, babbling speech, "He’s not a Jangadi; he’s my uncle!"

When I first heard those words, a profound heaviness settled in my chest. Yet amidst that weight, a wave of happiness washed over me—as I realized I had managed to dismantle the label of "Jangdi" from the minds of the children. It may not have seemed like a monumental achievement, but the small impact of my efforts ignited a fresh motivation within me to continue my work. That moment marked the beginning of a transformative journey.

Since then, the once-stigmatizing label of "Jangdi" has started to fade from the perception of many. Gradually, I have gained acceptance and recognition from those around me. Now, with a newfound sense of pride and identity, they introduce me as Apna Sudhakar, Apna Dada, or Apna Saheb, embracing these titles that reflect my connection to the community and the local community has accepted me as a member of the community.