Inside Bastar's Haat-Bazaars: Relics of Shrinking Tribal Cultural Spaces

In Chhattisgarh's Bastar, rural 'haats' capture an alternative way of life and facets of women's empowerment.

A woman who sells her wares at a Haat Bazaar in Bastar

(Photo: Deepanwita Niyogi/Altered by Aroop Mishra/The Quint)

It was an afternoon to remember. In the rays cast by a mellow winter sun, a fight was about to take place. But it waited, perhaps for the crowd to gather. In the meantime, two men posed for the camera. The photographer, who accompanied me to the Bastar region of Chhattisgarh, known for its decades-long insurgency and a unique tapestry of tribal culture, clicked their happy faces.  

The men weren’t the contenders. Their birds were, one a red cock and the other black in colour, geared up for a fight at a weekly haat in a remote village. Later, I learnt that cock fights happened in these places where hundreds of people gathered to buy and sell almost everything available under the sun. This was my first experience of a rural bazaar, often called haat-bazaar, in Bastar. 

Sweetmeats being sold at Bastar's Haat Bazaar

(Photo: Deepanwita Niyogi/The Quint)

An Unbeholden Sight

That day I had to leave for an assignment and couldn't wait to see either the fight or its outcome. But already I had seen enough during a brief interlude. Far away from the madding crowd of an urban landscape, there was the usual cacophony of human existence even at that haat. But the chaos seemed magical. It wasn’t a turn off.  

My eyes took in all that was on offer under a huge open space where traders had set up tarpaulin sheds to keep the heat at bay. I spotted shiny bangles, trinkets, sarees, vegetables, pulses, bindis, sweets and savouries. At a corner, women lined up for a routine health check-up at a mobile clinic. At another place, baby frocks of different colours hung against the body of a van. It was possible that the seller brought the stuff in that vehicle.  

Over the years I have been to many such haats across Chhattisgarh and Odisha. In 2021, during the Bastar tourism meet, I heard a song, Rasgulla, sung by Chhattisgarh rapper Appy Raja. The opening lines are normatively misogynistic, as can perhaps be expected. But the subsequent lyrics paint a picture of cock fights, bringing back happy memories.  

Lal murga, kala murga, murga hi murga 

Murga ke ladai hoga, dhurra hi dhurra. 

A Haat-bazaar in Bastar

(Photo: Deepanwita Niyogi/The Quint)

A World of Women

For many travellers, cock fights may perhaps define a heightened attraction of haats, but to me it is always the women, for they are an integral feature of these haat-bazaars. Many of them sell delicacies like dal vadas, hot jalebis and fried items made with besan. In the past, casual strolls revealed that they sell products often grown in their backyards, such as kanda (tuber), fresh gourds, organically grown pulses, pickles, dried fish, red ants with larvae and roasted corn cobs.

A woman fries vada to sell at the Haat

(Photo: Deepanwita Niyogi/The Quint)

I had come across women ready to sell dried mahua flowers. They were carefree and uninhibited. Their laughter filled the air. At times, it had a sweet melody; at other times it was boisterous. 

Once I found a women’s group drinking to their heart's content. They offered me a Salfi drink (a traditional alcohol procured from a tree of the same name) in a leaf bowl and resisted my attempts at payment. Many women also sell mahua liquor in glass bottles. They also partake of this drink that defines Bastar’s culture. The women drink without fear and shame.  

Sometime back during an assignment in Bastar, I bought a few necklaces at a tribal haat, wore them and posed for a few photographs with women. They felt happy to be in the photos. Last month, a woman approached and requested me to click her photo while she posed with a ready smile. I complied. 

As in tribal societies women work hard, it is natural that they dominate haats to sell their produce and earn a living. Sometimes, women occupy spaces and men arrive with the items to be sold throughout the day.

In this way, there is an entrepreneurial angle. Women make fried items, sweets like gulgule and sell fresh veggies. These are always in demand as haats go on from mornings till evenings.  

A Place of Human Connect

When in school, I had regular market outings with my family to buy household items. They were enjoyable even though the items bought were ordinary: groceries, tea, coffee and sometimes flowers.  

Today, I realise why these seemed enjoyable. Somehow, with the dominance of e-commerce in cities, customers have lost pace with the human touch. I see a few faces that arrive with my orders. Only once with one of these delivery partners, I had a heartfelt talk. The guy came with a late night order and seemed hungry. So, I offered him a few cookies and water. I remember he told me about his sister. He was working hard to get her married. 

Vegetable sellers at the Haat

(Photo: Deepanwita Niyogi/The Quint)

For a journalist, the human connection is the most important thing and is something to be cherished.

I love when people open up and start conversations. That is now gone with online orders. But at these rural haats, the connection comes back through easy camaderie, conversation and laughter. The human element is the most enjoyable thing at these places.  

For me, tribal haats define a way of life and an alternative world.

Jeet Arya, the founder of travel start-up Unexplored Bastar shared that haats are an integral part of his tour packages. Tourists are always taken to haats. Outsiders enjoy the experience. Arya explained further. He said that haats are a reflection of the tribal culture. Travellers admire women in traditional attire. Often, their bodies are covered with tattoo. They wear distinct hair ornaments and jewellery. It is a delight for photographers and cultural enthusiasts.  

Arya also told me about his experience with tourists who received a culture shock after they found that women enjoyed drinks at these haats. It offered a different perspective, as generally it is frowned upon elsewhere. But according to Arya, most tourists don’t take it in a negative way. Many times, they also get drinks and are not charged.  

Sellers at the Haat

(Photo: Deepanwita Niyogi/The Quint)

With the passage of time, changes have crept in at these rural haats. Bastar resident Manish Panigrahi, who works with Arya, said that these days packaged foods and plastic items are readily available at haats.

This was not the case earlier. Shubham Kursami agreed to this. He runs a tribal homestay in Bastar region’s Dantewada district. Kursami said that with the arrival of "outsiders" from other communities, haats have undergone a change. This has impacted the tribal way of life.  

In spite of these changes, these vibrant tribal-dominated haats define a way of life not seen anywhere else. As I gorged on a dal vada served with a spicy hot chutney, I looked around. Amidst the busy trade exchanges, people found time to socialise, to share a smile, and even perhaps to lend an ear to someone’s pain. It is perhaps the Bastariya swag, as Raja’s song defines.

(Deepanwita Gita Niyogi is a New Delhi-based freelance journalist.)