Where have all the gypsies gone?

by Padma EDIRISINGHE

Newspapers are full of news these days that the Romas are to be expelled from France. Romas of Romania, they are dubbed. A strange variety? Could be for the Romanians of Romania stay distinct. Are they a variety of Romans? No. Rome itself discards them. They are not Romans but Romas.... Poor Romas!

They are accused of stealing, of being unhygienic, of spoiling neat and beautiful landscapes. "I would never have them as neighbours", says a top man in France. Meanwhile, Sarkozy himself has been labelled a racist on his attitude to the Romas.

This snippet of foreign news brought back memories of our own gypsies, called by various names. Some call them Ahikuntikayas, some call them 'Rodiyas' or those belonging to the 'Sadol Kula' or caste and hence are branded as untouchable. These untouchable, sad to say, seem indigenous to India and our land. May be it is my ignorance but I have not heard of untouchable in any other country.

Gypsies - living a life of freedom

Even the Romas, that vagrant community of Europe are not branded as untouchable. Before I leave this topic of untouchable, let me narrate a beautiful story about them. It was the hallowed period in Indian history when The Buddha with His disciples roamed the terrain of India preaching the great doctrine.

Throats parched in the familiar droughts of Jambudeepa, they sought water but failed. Finally they came to a well that looked forsaken.

The Buddha ordered His Chief Disciple Ananda Thera to inspect the well and draw water if there is any. Ananda Thera was busy drawing the water with the help of a bucket when a young lass approached him.

Don't use water

"Venerable, my mother asks you not to use this water", she says coyly.

"Sister, we are thirsty. It is The Buddha standing there and he too is thirsty. Whey forbid us?" "It is because we are untouchable. It is not fitting that those of high birth drink water from our wells and tarnish their reputation. That is what mother wishes me to convey".

Ananda Thera laughs at that and says, "Sister, The Buddha and we who follow His noble doctrine do not believe in untouchable. All humans are equal in our eyes. Let me have the water". This tale has a strange ending that we will not follow, for the sake of space.

Untouchables still exist in India while Dr. Ambedkar has exerted himself to convert them to Buddhism. Strange stories abound in ancient and modern India about their doings or the doings of others with regard to them. The Dittamangalika story is one of them when a princess on seeing an untouchable on her way to a pleasure park ordered the chariot back to wash her soiled eyes. She went on to spit out to show her contempt of the man.

The despised man, though of low birth was of a powerful mentality and aware of the belief that if an untouchable were to sleep in the compound of a house that all the householders would be socially outcast, he followed the chariot and slept in the compound threatening he would die there if the princess was not given in marriage to him. The family had no choice but do so to save their own skin. Mathanga, the spurned man subjected the princes to a slave of his for several days to complete his revenge. The story like the earlier one drifts to a strange ending.

Banishing miscreants

Even in our country there had been the practice of banishing miscreants belonging to noble families to the clan of untouchable and to families of lower social level. A daughter of Parakramabahu (one is not sure which Parakramabahu) had suffered such a fate judging by this Veddha song that encases the chorus line, Parakumba rajuge doo Ratnavalliye! It is a sort of an entreaty and it can be inferred that these high caste women fallen from grace such as Kuveni end up as goddesses of these clans. As endearing and strange as these stories is the lifestyle of our own gypsies. The typical gypsy of the bygone days of my girlhood put up tents in wide open spaces. Donkeys, their travelling companions who bore the luggage wandered about making the scenario of their temporary habitat more picturesque. The donkey's bray was so foreign to our ears."

But, Alas!, they would not wait too long in the same place. Seven days was the maximum. Wait more than seven days, what happens? "Bath muttiya panuwo gahanawa". Worms will slither in the pot of rice! That was a fine excuse for the non-stop wandering of these men and women and their off-spring. Did anybody try to educate their children? No. What has really happened to them? Women were experts in palm reading and they read your palm in a stanger jumble of Sinhala and Malayalam. Their original land, they say is Malayalam in South India. Even the Romas of Europe claim to have wandered away from magical India. I met two of these women once on the Galle Face beach. They offered to read my palm. I declined the offer. If it is money that matters, we will do it free, they said and forcefully grabbed my left palm beckoning me to sit on a rock. It was a time phase when rocks were not replaced by benches and concrete slabs. It was naked nature all around me, the oceanic waves rolling in full fury. It was nice to sit there with these two women who had no hearth, no home, no cared that they did not have any. But they were very solicitous of me.

No one for you

"Lot of suffering. Did so much for others but no one there to do for you, Nona. Huh! I exclaimed not so much at their mystic powers but at their audacity. "Five hundred rupees to dispel your calamities" one said. So they have joined the Colombo business community. A friend supported this contention later when I confined in her that my hair was thinning.

"Go in for a wig. I will tell you a place where you can buy a natural wig. "She mentioned a back street in Borella confiding in me as to who sells these wigs, a fact that intrigued me as a writer though I had no wish to wear others' wigs.

So a back street of the mega city is where our own Roma women have ended. They are doing business at busy Borella.

"Actually Rani, I used to wonder where these gypsies have fled to".

"Not fled to, but merged destroying their identity.... Some of their children even attend schools". I yearned for the wandering clans, for their tents, for their braying animals but wasn't I being selfish? It was all very romantic for me but not for them. They have disappeared to enjoy modern amenities. Perhaps they have entered the Sinhala and Tamil and other communities.

Does anybody keep a tab? Not likely. Main profession of their females - palm reading and taking people on a ride (not on donkeys) and making natural wigs. Be alert. You may come across them at the Borella basement shopping complex. So much for our own Romas.