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When they took the body to the medical facility to get the death certificate the doctors stated that the cause of death had been malaria and had nothing to do with witchcraft. Incredibly, the villagers were still hailing the wonders performed by the sorcerer.īut four people were standing near the body of Bharat whose lives had just been devastated. But by the third day Bharat could no longer tolerate the pain and trauma and passed away in the afternoon. The sorcerer boasted loudly that he had removed the evil entity. He took Bharat in for 3 days and performed a series of rituals that were unorthodox, cruel, and terrifying. This witch doctor claimed that Bharat had been plagued by an evil force that had to be removed. Jhari and Reena assumed that an evil spirit had entered Bharat and took him to a sorcerer living on the outskirts of the village. A few days later, he began to have seizures. His fever grew worse and he suffered from fatigue, nausea and a loss of appetite. Reena and Jhari assumed that Bharat’s fever was caused by a virus and took no action, thinking Bharat would be fine in a few days. Bharat suffered came down with a terrible fever. Reena was living a happy life when catastrophe struck during the monsoon. One of the happiest moments occurred when her daughter Reena married Bharat Nayak and gave birth to two children, Jogendra Nayak, 14, and Mousumi Nayak, 8. Jhari embraced the role of a single parent and set about earning a living without any concern for the social stereotypes stemming from her tribal background. Jhari has seen a lot of misery in her life since her husband died early in their marriage and left her alone with her newborn child Reena. As we sat and talked I began to understand. I wondered why this old lady was singing such a tragic song, associated with trauma and pain. The song was about Krishna, a deity revered by Hindus, and this eminent lord’s descent into the shallow waters of the abyss after being struck by an arrow, followed by his death. A sense of peace came over me but it was mixed with melancholy. But the sunlight was strong and this helped her to use a sieve in cooking.Īs I walked up to her, Jhari was humming a folk tune in a melodious voice. Old age and smoke from the burning embers made it hard for her to see. Jhari (photo) had transformed the area around her cottage into a work place, diligently removing husks from rice and cooking a vegetable stew on an open wood stove.
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