इनका से ना होई
they can’t make it
Performance of new and old songs by Ruby, Rita, Poonam & Radha, followed by discussion
Livestreamed from the outskirts of the village of Farhada, Bhojpur, Bihar
2 New songs were developed through a workshop produced by zeropweorcut with Ruby, Poonam and Shakuntala
3 old songs selected from ongoing research into anti-caste folk expression
Facilitated by Piyush Kashyap & Raju Ranjan
Food by Puneet, Electricals by Vishal, Sound Tech by Firoz
Live-streamed in collaboration with The Listening Bienniel (Third Edition) and uncanny stations
Language of Songs: Bhojpuri
Discussions in Bhojpuri, Hindi & English
Guest Respondent: Brahma Prakash; Author of Cultural Labour: Conceptualizing the ‘Folk Performance’ in India
Translations read by Suvani Suri (uncanny stations)
Live Performance: 30mins
Discussion: 30 mins
2025
Among the two new songs produced:
The first song is about how one the performers we were working with faces insults for her choice of becoming an artist. Art forms (including singing, dancing, performing), and in fact all forms of work are considered lowly and only a form of servitude that is to be performed by the oppressed for the oppressors. Along with works that like tending to animals, dead, and waste, artistic labour that potentiate self and social expressions are particularly scruitinized by the caste society.
The second song is about a women’s choice to marry her lover, against the system of arranged marriage within her own caste.
ART MAKES WHAT IS REAL
(written by Ruby, produced by zeropowercut)
Slapping my thighs to the rhythm
I became a performer
People ignored my art
They letched at my body
I received basket full of insults
They called me slut dancer
They called me slut musician
My work is super
My work is my identity
Competition is tough
Success is far
People are staring
I will take my goats to graze
I will sing songs
I will contest elections
I will make flute with papaya branch
I will flirt with men
I will take my men to my village fair
Planting my bamboo stick in the ground
I will make a new society
No longer will I be tied to the pole
Like an animal
My pole planted firm on the ground
Will tell you the time
[My husband]
Beats to prove he is the man
Whimpers like a dog when he needs my help
When I fall sick, he ignores me
When I go to meet the male doctor,
He gets jealous and curses the doctor
My body is speared with pain
I can't sleep, my eyes cry
No one one will dare to love anyone anymore
My father's eye has been stung by bees
Women's art is imprisoned in the house
Stupid uncultured men preach to me
That art is obscene
What do they know about labour?
Art makes god, art writes faith
Art makes what is real!