The economy of the state’s most populated district is driven by women entrepreneurs at every level, and they’re only just getting started
The key to unpacking the pulse of Mayurbhanj—an erstwhile princely state and the most populated district in Odisha—is to understand its women, who are the primary drivers of its economy. Rather befittingly, it’s also the only part of Odisha where women are the pullers or drivers of the chariot, or the rath, at the state’s tentpole festival of Rath Yatra, an annual celebration of the sibling deities of Jagannath (an avatar of Lord Krishna), Subhadra, and Balabhadra in the months of June-July.
Nestled along the state borders of West Bengal and Odisha is the district’s headquarters Baripada, a city where swarms of devotees descend on the streets during the week-long festivities. It culminates into a procession where a nearly 50-feet-tall chariot is being pulled, primarily by women—from all walks of life—through a nearly two-kilometre long stretch of serpentine road, with children and men dancing in circles around them.
Joining the procession are Akshita M Bhanj Deo and Mrinalika M Bhanj Deo—daughters of Praveen Chandra Bhanj Deo, the 47th (titular) ruler of the Bhanja dynasty of Mayurbhanj—along with their mother Rashmi Rajyalaxmi Bhanjdeo, who hails from the royal family of Jaisalmer. It’s a tradition they have honoured in the same vein as their women ancestors, who not only designed the built heritage of the province, but also strengthened it administratively when their husbands were out at war, fortifying their borders from invaders. “The Bhanj Deo dynasty has its roots in the Bhauma-Kara Buddhist dynasty that ruled eastern India between the 8th and 10th centuries, and was matrilineal. So, I believe, seeing women in leadership positions has always been the norm for us,” says Akshita, who, along with Mrinalika, runs the Belgadia Palace in Baripada as a boutique stay property. It was built in 1804 CE as a guest house for foreign dignitaries, and is being revived to function as a cultural springboard for local entrepreneurs who can sustainably monetise their crafts.
/established/media/post_attachments/theestablished/2024-07/674f904c-cada-4a34-89c5-712d175fb04f/Mayurbhanj rath-1.jpg)
Mayurbhanj is the only district in Odisha where women pull the chariot during Rath Yatra celebrations
/established/media/post_attachments/theestablished/2024-07/140ee1a5-a136-4e2b-8d57-b4120a4728e9/Mayurbhanj rath-2.jpg)
Rath is the biggest annual festival of Odisha
Thirty-one-year-old Akshita can’t help but notice all the untapped potential her home province holds, especially in tourism, which, as she points out, contributes significantly to the economy. Like most others, Odisha is an agrarian state, which stands to make gains if buttressed with tourism. Through the Belgadia Palace and its philanthropic arm, the Mayurbhanj Foundation—both led by Akshita—the titular royals of the erstwhile princely state are focusing on creating a sustainable economy led by its women, especially through microfinance cooperatives.
How a grass transformed lives
Local legends say that one of the Bhanja dynasty rulers had visited Madagascar around the time of the World War II and imported the resilient sabai grass to homeground; botanical science, however, calls it a species of plant native to South Asia and parts of South-East Asia. Either way, the sabai has come to be termed as Odisha’s “money plant”, especially in the last two decades as it launched itself in Mayurbhanj as the chief driver of the micro economy. Today, over a thousand-women-strong cooperative headquartered in the village of Guhaldihi, 25 kilometres from the Belgadia Palace, is supporting women to take charge of their lives and their households through objects crafted out of this sturdy grass.
Tucked away right off the highway amidst expanses of red soil is a training-cum-production unit of the Odisha Rural Development and Marketing Society managed by the Guhaldihi Sabai Producer Group—an entirely women-run enterprise. It was founded under the leadership of Usha Rani Naik, a 42-year-old Odia woman who made ropes with sabai until 2011, when Dashi, a local NGO, trained the women in the block to build their own little empire with the grass. It’s a labour-intensive job, with every step involving human hands—from picking the grass locally, to drying, and ultimately weaving it into bags, hats, coasters, and baskets.
/established/media/post_attachments/theestablished/2024-07/82c9595c-8815-4b4c-8711-f1747a6d1289/sabai mayurbhanj.jpg)
The locally grown Sabai grass has helped many women of Mayurbhanj turn entrepreneurs. Image: Arshia Dhar
/established/media/post_attachments/theestablished/2024-07/ed993363-18b0-4ebe-ac12-0656654448ea/sabai mayurbhanj-2.jpg)
Baskets made of sabai grass. Image: Arshia Dhar
“Our husbands are farmers and the money they brought home before we started this cooperative would barely help us stay afloat,” says Naik. “Today, in a good month, if we have large orders, each of us takes home an average of ₹15,000. If it’s a bad month, it doesn’t go below ₹ 5,000, and that is still more than what our husbands made,” she adds. Her army of women work seven days a week, and in her block alone, there are 250 of them.
The Belgadia Palace atelier supports their ventures by selling their wares in a bid to offer patronage to the local crafts, as was tradition in the days of yore. In fact, the rise of Mayurbhanj sabai perfectly aligns with the global popularity of natural grass-made luxury bags, like the ones crafted out of the raffia palm—a tropical summer fashion staple—by lifestyle and fashion giants Hermès, Loewe, Prada, and Tory Burch, among others. “A friend of mine from Kolkata who was based in the United States came back to Kolkata and visited Mayurbhanj. She wanted to start her own line of luxury bags that she plans on selling in the US after she was heavily inspired by the sabai crafts here,” says Akshita.
How local women rescued Mayurbhanj’s dying dance form
Mayurbhanj is slowly, but certainly, on its path to reestablishing itself as a cultural giant on the global map. The 15th and current President of India, Draupadi Murmu, is a native of the region. Only months after her appointment in July 2022 as the head of the state, Time Magazine featured Mayurbhanj in its “World’s Greatest Places” list, in March 2023. The cultural renaissance of Mayurbhanj, therefore, is evidently a woman-led movement.
At the Belgadia Palace, a part of the guest “experience” includes a dance performed by local artistes of Chhau—a martial dance form native to Mayurbhanj, Bengal’s Purulia and Jharkhand’s Seraikella. While the latter two variants use masks, the Mayurbhanj variant forgoes it. It’s an ancient art form traditionally performed by men that was on the brink of extinction, only to be revived by the women who are its primary custodians and nurturers today.
Subhasree Mukherjee, a Baripada-born cultural activist and arguably the first female Chhau dancer from Odisha, pioneered this movement to keep the dance alive. Noticing the lack of patronage, in 2016, Mukherjee joined forces with the district administration to start Project Chhauni.
/established/media/post_attachments/theestablished/2024-07/08244679-1cc3-43d7-9ee5-cf6f4ec7b729/chhau-1.jpg)
Chhau is a martial dance form native to Mayurbhanj, Bengal’s Purulia and Jharkhand’s Seraikella
/established/media/post_attachments/theestablished/2024-07/446ca08a-4e1d-4d65-868a-88df01f16f1f/chhau-2.jpg)
It’s an ancient art form traditionally performed by men that was on the brink of extinction, only to be revived by the women who are its primary custodians and nurturers today
Under the aegis of this non-profit organisation in the last eight years, close to 12,000 Chhau artistes were identified and assembled under the Mayurbhanj Chhau Performing Unit and Mayurbhanj Chhau Academy in Baripada—institutes that were installed to help preserve and proliferate the age-old dance form. “We are currently working with 12 remote organisations in different blocks of Mayurbhanj with a CSR fund from Odisha Mining Corporation, training 240 artistes. Earlier, we had trained 40 artistes in two villages,” shares Mukherjee. “Our performing unit consists of 24 dancers and eight musicians, who perform in different cultural shows, take workshops, and work like a repertoire unit,” she adds.
This has breathed new life into the art form by not only taking it beyond the state’s borders, but has also opened its doors to women who were conventionally barred from accessing it. Mukherjee recalls a recent encounter with a single mother from a tiny village in Mayurbhanj that took her by surprise. “I was awestruck by this lady’s interest to reunite and regroup the artistes of her village, especially the girls, to form a Chhau performing unit. She had cycled 14 kilometres to meet me and had got old photographs of the Chhau team in their village,” she says, gushing about her zeal. “She is a widow who works in the farm, and also has a sewing machine with which she sews clothes and supports herself and her two young sons,” says Mukherjee.
Keeping traditions alive
This story points to the complex social tapestry of Mayurbhanj where women lie at the intersection of several professions all at once, juggling different crafts to keep alive not just their own families, but also their cultures at large. The district’s vibrant history can also be attributed to the fact that it is home to 15 indigenous tribes, of which the Santhals form nearly 50 per cent of its tribal population, according to government figures.
Bhubaneswar-based fashion designer Lipsa Hembram is a native of Mayurbhanj’s Dandbose village, and belongs to the Santhal tribe, who aren’t traditionally weavers, but wear a distinct chequered pattern of cotton cloth as a unifying identity for their tribe. In 2014, she started her brand Galang Gabaan, which, in Santhali, roughly translates to “creating with love”, celebrating the sartorial legacy of her people who are a significant building block of the Mayurbhanji pride.
/established/media/post_attachments/theestablished/2024-07/86715270-09fd-4875-88a1-9496eec8c0b5/santhali women-1.jpg)
The Santhal tribe aren’t traditionally weavers, but wear a distinct chequered pattern of cotton cloth as a unifying identity for their tribe. Image: Lipsa Hembram
/established/media/post_attachments/theestablished/2024-07/232d4b42-3b81-40f0-b00b-14c930305913/santhali women-2.jpg)
A Santhal woman of Odisha. Image: Lipsa Hembram
“Since Santhals are not weavers, this chequered pattern—that has become the Santhali uniform—was woven by weavers or ‘pene’ in Santhali, from the nearby villages in Mayurbhanj. I visited those weavers whom my grandparents would buy from. They have stopped weaving because of the high costs and low demand, and because there is a flood of power loom sarees in Mayurbhanj markets from the neighbouring states,” says Hembram. Her endeavour, therefore, has been to keep the conversations on the original costumes, their patterns, weaves, and drapes alive, so as to stem their disappearance to cultural dilution owing to aggressive market forces.
It’s a multi-pronged approach, according to Hembram, that isn’t simply limited to talking about clothes, but about the Santhali way of life. “Whenever I visit my village, I meet women [and learn about] their everyday lives steeped in Santhali traditions that we left behind after moving to cities,” she says. It also entails communicating in their native tongues, which, for Hembram, is to speak in Santhali and write in the Santhali alphabet of Ol Chiki. “These women teach their kids our rituals, songs, and dances. They feed them our tribal delicacies on sal leaf plates, which are also avenues for the women to earn money,” says the designer, underlining the spirit of the Mayurbhanji woman who does it all, unapologetically.
Featured image: Instagram.com/thebelgadiapalace
Also Read: Odisha’s Mayurbhanj Chhau is defying gender stereotypes
Also Read: A growing tribe of women bikers in India are shattering stereotypes
Also Read: How women are revolutionising commercial kitchens in India against all odds