IAFOR Journal of Arts & Humanities
Volume 8 – Issue 1 – 2021
environment. They have accepted their lack of superfluous affluence as a fate destined by the
goddess. To this point, Kalya describes the Shabars as a pre-modern people:
Look Thakur, you pass time with books and manuscripts and you know a different
community. The Shabars are residents of the forest; they live at the edge of town! They
don’t know what money is, nor do they see much of it. How else do you think Kalketu
could have lost his kingdom? We don’t understand money. A cowrie or a dhebua or
damri - copper or iron coin is as far as we go. (Devi, 2002, p. 117)
The Shabars eat very simple food like rice, seasoning it with salt and pepper. When the town
dwellers don’t buy meat from Shabars in the hot summer and rainy season, Shabars have to
survive on what they obtain from the forest, like wild fruits, leaves, vines, snakes and snails.
They don’t have proper houses, but live in small huts, while in winter they don’t have the quilts
to protect them from the cold. They make due by wrapping their bodies with burlap. But still,
for the Shabars the forest is like a mother that meets all their needs. The character Tejota
articulates this belief:
Some call her Abhayachandi and others call her a desolate forest. The forest itself is
our mother, what do you say? She gives us fruits, flowers, tubers, leaves, wood, honey,
medicine herbs, leaves and roots, even animals to hunt. She gives us everything, keeps
us alive, doesn’t that make her our mother? (Devi, 2002, p. 73)
Here Tejota articulates a standard Deep Ecology tenet: All life forms have a fundamental
interconnectedness. Through this character, Devi gently persuades readers that we need to stop
human exploitation of the biosphere and generate a symbiotic relationship with it. There is also
an indirect endorsement of the need to protect non-industrial cultures (who are exemplars of
the beneficial stewardship of the biosphere) from the invasion of industrial greed. This is
observed as the city walls, made of furnace-burnt bricks, keep encroaching upon pristine forest
lands. Bemo Shabar, the community’s chief, suggests the king stop the manufacture of bricks
using the furnace, as its fire causes pain to the mud and, therefore, torments Mother Earth. He
should instead order the construction of a packed mud wall without the use of the furnace.
Bemo Shabar’s disagreement with the king shows that the Shabars have no affiliation with the
political machine that has been created by urban, consumer economies, but rather, as the
children of goddess Abhayachandi, they follow religious directives that serve the needs of
Nature. Through his profound empathy for Mother Earth, Bemo Shabar is basically asserting
that there are no boundaries between human beings and the rest of creation, as the world is
fundamentally one. He essentially argues that the destruction of the natural world must be
opposed not because of its monetary value, but because it is part of our wider self. Its
diminishment is our own diminishment. As Fox puts it,
“... there are no ontological divides in the field of existence. In other words, the world
is simply not divided up into independent subjects and objects, nor is there any
bifurcation in reality between the human and non-human realms. Rather, all realities
are constituted by their relationships. To the extent that we perceive boundaries, we fall
short of deep ecological consciousness.” (1984, p. 194)
Throughout the novel, the Shabars display what might be called bio-empathy, and many more
examples can be brought to prove the point. When a trader requests a hundred skins of male
deer for the king of the Dhalbhum for a religious ceremony, offering silver coins for them,
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