The flight to Patna reminds one of the alcohol ban in the state before touchdown. Outside the airport, large hoardings display banners of happy women. In 2016, the Nitish Kumar government fulfilled his promise to the women electorate—it promulgated the Bihar Prohibition and Excise Act, which imposed a total ban on the sale and purchase of alcohol in the state. But hardly 100 km away from the state capital, in Dalsinghsarai, Pinu Kumar Choudhary (29), is disillusioned.
A graduate in history from the Lalit Narayan Mithila University, Pintu was preparing for government exams, but did not have any success. A Pasi by caste, Pintu is now looking for employment as he cannot pursue his traditional family business of toddy tapping after the government’s ban on alcohol.
Navigating Pintu’s Life
Pintu’s family has been in the business of toddy tapping for generations: his elder brothers, his father, uncles and cousins knew no other means of earning except toddy tapping. In 2016, when the ban was implemented, selling toddy became illegal.
When Pintu was 22, he had learned the life skill of his forefathers—climbing up the khajoor (date palm) and taar (palmyra) trees to collect unfermented neera in terracotta pots locally known as lavani. Pintu recalls that he decided to join his father and brothers in the family business as a fresh undergraduate student. People in his family were not in favour of Pintu migrating to big cities for work after the demise of his cousin son in Mumbai. Pintu recalls that his nephew, Arun Mahto’s son, had gone for work along with many others from the village, but one day the news of his demise reached them. No one knows how he died, but everyone remembers that his body came back in a coffin. After that, no one from the family ventured outside for work.
After Pintu decided that he wanted to pursue the business of his forefathers, he started waking up at dawn, gathering his hasua (curved knife) and makadi (harness) and joined his brothers, Ram Nath and Sujeet, to the fields. The three would reach the fields and take turns climbing up the khajoor and taar trees leased by their family to collect neera, which they would later sell to brokers. His elder brothers were extra mindful of Pintu climbing the tree during that time, because he had recently learned this skill from his brother-in-law.
Pintu recalls that he did not learn toddy tapping from his brothers in the village. Instead, he used to travel to his sister’s house where his brother-in-law would train him in the exercise. “I visited my sister’s house and lived there for six months. My Jijaji taught me to climb the tree by tying a knot around the waist and trained me on how to make cuts on the upper part of the trunk to allow the juice to collect in the lavani overnight,” he explains.
“If people saw me climbing the tree in my village, they would mock me saying that I was a graduate who was doing the work of his forefathers,” says Pintu, the youngest of six siblings. The Mahto family lives in Dalsinghsarai subdivision of Bihar’s Samastipur district, and comprises around 60-odd members from three generations who live close to each other.
Later, near the open terrace of his house, which also doubles up as a kitchen during summers, where his sister-in-law’s cook food for the family, Pintu recounts how the problems of Pasis aggravated after the state started conducting raids in 2018.
“Everything was peaceful till 2018, and Pasis were allowed to sell Neera, but from 2018 onwards, the police started arresting Pasis in large numbers. Even today, a lot of Pasis are in jail, but mostly the charges against them are false as they sell toddy, which is a natural drink,” he says.
Sanju Devi, wife of Sunil Mahto, Pintu’s first cousin, who lives next door recalls, “My husband was so traumatised after hearing the news of family members being caught and put behind bars for selling toddy that he stopped this work and started working as a mason. But this is our janeu, something that was bequeathed to us by our forefathers and we cannot give it up so easily.”
Sanju Devi says that the administration has been apathetic to their cause and police raids on toddy shops and at homes of Pasis is common, forcing many to quit their traditional profession. This not only causes disruption, but also wreaks havoc to their day-to-day lives. The police have identified homes of Pasis and conduct regular raids. These raids have increased, especially after reported incidents of people dying after consuming spurious liquor across the state. But Devi says that Pasis sell toddy, which is a natural drink and not alcohol.
“The inherent quality of toddy is that it ferments naturally. It is good for the body. Even doctors recommend drinking fresh toddy juice for patients who have stomach-related ailments and those who are suffering from jaundice. A Pasi knows how much toddy to sell and they are cautious with customers. In principle, we do not sell toddy to people who have had more than 2-3 glasses on an empty stomach because we don’t want them to fall sick. One thing I fail to understand is why the government has penalised us for selling a natural drink,” says Sanju Devi.
Fear of Arrests and Raids
Arun Mahto, Pintu’s cousin who lives next door, says, “There was a time when khajoor was known as dhoore asharfi, which meant that those who planted khajoor trees had earnings equalling gold.” Earlier, before the ban was implemented, Arun would lease khajoor and taar trees and had decent earnings to feed his family.
Typically, a khajoor tree is in season between January and April, while the season for the taar tree is between May and August, which means that toddy is available for nine months of the year. Toddy, it is known as a poor man’s beer as those who consume it are farmers and labourers after a hard day of work. A Pasi climbs up the tree three times a day to bring down toddy and Arun Mahto was well-versed in this task. But after the government ban, he decided to quit his profession as there was danger of police raids and arrest.
In 2020, nearly 200,000 cases registered across the state were related to the liquor ban. Between April 2016 and September 2020, law enforcement agencies conducted 488,450 raids, arresting 67,367 people. As a result of the constant fear from law enforcement and court dates, many men in Pintu’s family decided to quit their traditional profession.
Covid Made Life Difficult
Meena Devi, wife of Arun Mahto, says that her husband had just restarted his life, when Covid struck and the lockdown was implemented. “During the lockdown, we were forced to stay inside our homes. The police were everywhere and no one was allowed to go outside. My husband was unwell throughout this period, and since we had no other earning member in the family, we were forced to borrow from moneylenders. Today, we have no means to pay them back, which means that the principal has kept adding up. It is true that the government gave us food grains, but one still needs a lot of other things to prepare a meal, like salt, spices and oil, which is bought from cash. Sitting at home during the pandemic was an unusually worrisome time, especially for angutha-nishan (illiterate) people like us,
who had nothing to do. We are landless people and are not allowed to pursue the bsiness of our forefathers. What will our children do? How will we survive? These questions keep me up at night,” she says.
The other women of the Mahto family, while sitting together in a room, are worried about their children’s future. One of the young girls in the family, Amisha, is a graduate. Sanju Devi says that they are searching for a groom for her. But marriage would require money, something that is lacking at the moment, and thus, Amisha’s marriage would have to wait another year till things stabilise.
When the family business was functional before 2016, these women would assist their husbands, by preparing chakhna, or relishes to be eaten with toddy, like fried fish, bhuna chana and baigini at the shops. But now, they struggle to make ends meet.
Next Gen Pasis
A Pasi brings down toddy from the tree with the help of a harness tied to the waist and legs. In case of an accident, however, there are no social security guarantees to support him and his family. This is another reason why many young Pasis have now started looking for alternative job avenues.
Nitish, a 23-year-old relative of Pintu, who is visiting him, is a student of BSc (agriculture) in Saharanpur, Uttar Pradesh. A resident of Bulakipur in Samastipur district, Nitish’s grandfather used to sell toddy, but neither his father nor any uncles pursued this business. He says that only the older people pursue their traditional business and the young Pasis are now interested in studies and looking for jobs.
Protests Across the State
During a cabinet meeting chaired by Chief Minister Nitish Kumar in November 2022, a proposal was passed, according to which every family engaged in the sale of toddy would be given financial help to start a new business for their livelihood.
However, according to Santosh Kumar Choudhry, New Akhil Bhartiya Pasi Samaj district president, this has been a failure. He says, “The government had announced that it would procure toddy from Pasis through the Bihar State Milk Cooperative Federation Limited (COMFED), and had assured us that they would purchase 30-40 litres of toddy from each one of us. They even established neera plants in districts like Nawada, Gaya, Patna and Vaishali, but these plants stopped flowering after it was found that the microbiological quality of neera juice being made available to them via Jeevika was found to be of very poor quality.”
Choudhary alleges that this scheme is riddled with other problems. He says that a Pasi climbs up a tree early in the morning to bring down neera before dawn. But as temperatures rises, the neera starts fermenting and evolves into an alcohol, becoming toddy. To halt this natural process, neera needs to be refrigerated, but this is not possible for Pasis who do not have the means to invest in buying a fridge.
There have been numerous protests across the state by Pasis, who claimed that the decision to ban toddy is unfair since their livelihood depends upon toddy tapping. Pintu says that it has been eight years since the state government promised to provide alternative livelihood arrangements. But nothing has been done yet. Pasis are still struggling with the repercussions brought on by the ban on alcohol.
Death from Spurious Liquor
A common complaint among the Pasis is that although traditionally their caste has been selling toddy, but gradually some other caste groups have also entered this business. Today, despite the ban, many people still sell toddy across Bihar, on the sly. Many among them are not Pasis and do not know how to climb up the taar and khajoor trees. What they do, instead, is that they buy toddy from those who know how to climb trees and bring down the toddy. They buy toddy from them and retail it to customers. This system is called Paikari and is pursued by many people. A single glass of toddy is sold for Rs 7, while a bottle costs anywhere between Rs 20-25. Pintu says that even today there are many people who are selling toddy. This is done mainly by those people who have no alternative means of earnings and also because there is a demand for toddy.
After prohibition, a lot of people died in hooch tragedies. In the beginning of 2022 alone, 40 people died. Pintu says that none of these people died after consuming toddy. He reiterates that toddy is a natural drink which people have been consuming for centuries and does not cause harm, if taken in moderation.
Pintu is part of Facebook groups and is active on Whatsapp, where news of police raids on the homes and shops of Pasis and latest developments on prohibition are shared and circulated constantly. He says that despite their efforts, the government is not budging on revoking the ban on toddy. His future and that of thousands of boys like him, hangs in the balance. Pintu is hopeful that the government will someday rule in their favour. He shares a story that he had heard about the Pasis in his childhood. When the British came to India, they found people consuming toddy, which ferments naturally. Initially hesitant about this drink, they conducted some research and did tests after which they concluded that toddy was safe to consume. He hopes that like the British, one day, the Nitish Kumar government too will become sensible.
(This appeared in the print as 'Nectar In A Sieve')
Sona Singh is a research scholar and writes on modern slavery, migration and gender
