GADCHIROLI

Historically, Gadchiroli has been governed by various dynasties, including the Rashtrakutas, Chalukyas, Yadavas, and Gonds. Gadchiroli was established as a tehsil (administrative division) in 1905 when British authorities transferred a zamindari estate from Chandrapur and Brahmapuri.The area became an independent district on August 26, 1982, when it was carved out of Chandrapur district.

The name "Gadchiroli" has its origins rooted in the region's historical and geographical context. The term is derived from the local dialect, where "Gad" refers to a "fort" or "hill," and "Chiroli" may be linked to the presence of a type of tree, possibly the Chironji or similar local flora.

Bhaskar Halami's life story is a powerful example of how determination and education can change lives. He was born into a tribal family in Chirchadi, a remote village in the Gadchiroli, where he faced many challenges growing up.

As a child, Bhaskar and his family often struggled to find enough food to eat. They relied on unusual sources like mahua flowers and wild rice to survive, as their small farm could not provide enough for them. His parents worked hard as domestic helpers to support the family.

Despite these difficulties, Bhaskar's father recognized the importance of education. He made sure that Bhaskar and his siblings completed their studies. Bhaskar excelled at school and became the first person from his village to earn a Bachelor's degree in science, followed by a Master's degree in chemistry from the prestigious Institute of Science in Nagpur. His passion for learning led him to the United States, where he earned a PhD from Michigan Technological University, focusing on DNA and RNA research.

Today, Bhaskar Halami works as a senior scientist at Sirnaomics Inc., a biopharmaceutical company in Maryland, where he specializes in genetic medicine research.

As narrated by Kamala to her grandson, Krishna;

The Gonds of Gadchiroli are an indigenous tribal community in Maharashtra with a strong cultural roots tied to their land. This connection is shown in the stories shared between Krishna and his grandmother Kamala in the village of Chirchadi.

The Gonds have a long history, believed to have come from various tribes that spoke a proto-Gondi language. They established several kingdoms in central India from the 13th to the 19th centuries. The first recorded Gond kingdom was Chanda, founded around 1200 CE. It was known for its farming and tax systems. Other important Gond kingdoms included Garha-Mandla and Deogadh, with leaders like Rani Durgavati, who fought against Mughal forces.

During British rule, the Gonds faced many challenges. The British viewed them as 'plunderers' and took away their land and rights, which caused hardships for the community. This led to a loss of their traditional way of life. The Gonds have a strong oral tradition that helps keep their history alive. They tell stories of warriors and healers who connect with nature. Kamala shares these tales with Krishna, reminding him that they are "children of the earth, born from the soil that nourishes us." Their connection to the land is also visible through their music, dance, and art, such as Gond paintings that show nature and tribal life.

Today, the Gonds still face challenges. Many feel disconnected from their roots due to the loss fo their land (through government or private acquisitions) and outside influences on their sources of livelihood. Kamala's sadness about the changes in their way of life highlights the struggle to keep their culture alive. Organisations like the Gond Mahasabha work to protect their identity and traditions.

Krishna's desire to preserve his people's stories gives hope for the future. By learning about his heritage through storytelling and cultural practices, he shows a sign of their resilience despite past hardships.

In the village of Kothi, Gadchiroli got the spotlight for a sequence of horrific incidents that haunted its villagers.

It all began in the early 1900s when the community was still free of the hassles of modern-day society. The farmers lived modest lives, working in the fields by day and gathering around the flickering fire embers of their chimneys at night. Life was peaceful until the first dead body was discovered.

Madhav, a respected farmer, was found dead at his home one morning. His body showed no indications of struggle or injuries, but his face was twisted in an expression of horror. The villagers were confused, but they concluded that it could be a heart attack, possibly caused by some unseen horror.

However, when Sita, a young mother, was discovered dead under similar circumstances barely a fortnight later, rumours of a darker force at work began to surface. Fear engulfed the village as more bodies appeared, each with the same eerie expression of terror. The pattern was clear, an unseen hand was at work, taking lives without leaving a trace.

As the death toll rose, so did the sense of fear. Family members huddled close at night, singing shlokas. The village elders met and, after considerable consideration, concluded that the "Chor Pishach" had awakened.

According to locals, the Chor Pishach was an evil asur who possessed people and drove them to commit horrific acts. For years, the story had been passed down through Kothi's oral history, but no one believed it could be true. With horror in their hearts, the people accepted that the spirit had returned to wreak havoc on them.

As the evenings became more terrifying and the murders kept occuring, the locals sought the assistance of a Baba, a local pujari. He was coveted for his knowledge of old traditions and unwavering faith. He summoned all his strength and agreed to go see the Chor Pishach.

On Amavasya night, the entire community gathered around the banyan tree at Kothi's edge. The Baba started the ceremony with mantras and providing offerings to appease the Pishach. The air was thick with fear, and the flickering flames of the ceremonial fire created strange shadows on the nearby trees.

As the vidhi reached the end, an icy breeze rushed through the crowd, extinguishing the flames. The villagers gasped and clutched each other in horror. Baba's voice became stronger and more forceful as he asked the Pishach to unveil itself. The ground trembled, and for a brief time, a dark shape emerged in the smoke, its eyes gleaming with malevolence.

With one final, intense chant, he threw a blessed charm into the heart of the flame. The spirit let forth an eerie cry, which rang throughout the forest and sent chills down everyone's spines. And then, as suddenly as it had begun, the wind died down, leaving the village in unsettling calm.

The next morning, the villagers awoke to a sense of peacefulness that had been lacking for months. The murders stopped, and life slowly returned to normal. However, the memory of those dreadful days stayed in the hearts of the villagers. They continued to recount the story of the Chor Pishach, passing it down through generations as a warning against the dark forces that lie beyond the veil of the known world.