The katha storytelling tradition is a staple in the Banjara community, with epic songs about ancestral journeys and migration histories. Accompanied by percussion, bronze plates, and cymbals, as well as rhythmic clapping, the oral tradition becomes a shared community activity that celebrates and remembers the past. The members of the community become living archives who pass on stories and histories through music and dance.
In Dr. Naik’s work, he explores the different types of songs that are passed through Banjara generations, including historic songs that talk about folktales during the Rajput rule between the twelfth and sixteenth centuries, mythological songs that trace stories from the Hindu mythological epics of the Mahabharata and Ramayana, as well as a plethora of everyday songs that are sung during festivals, childbirth, funerals, and so forth.
With the current crackdown on ethnic minorities and cultural diversity, we are creating microcosms where only monocultures thrive.
“Our people cannot survive without singing. Each and every moment is made into a song for self or for children or just to survive,” says author Ramesh Karthik Nayak.
Similarly, the Roma people also remember their histories orally, with a rich heritage of folktales and legends that were once shared solely through word of mouth. As Romani migrants settled across South America and the USA in the 1900s, the folk tales the community brought with them became storybooks and children’s tales. Francis Hindes Groome’s Gypsy Folk Tales from 1899 is a collection that gathers oral narratives from Romani groups across Europe, preserving tales blending local folklore with Romani motifs. Groome also annotated each story with linguistic and cultural notes, tracing parallels with Indian, Persian, and European folklore to highlight the Romani diaspora’s wide cultural connections.
Apart from an abundance of similar-sounding words in their lexicon and folk stories that have the same vibe, these cultures, spanning two continents, have a much stronger link when it comes to visual aesthetics. The Banjaras and the Roma share a love of head coverings, long, colorful skirts embellished with mirrors, mother-of-pearl, and cowrie shells, and heavy silver jewelry jingling with coins and bells across wrists, hair, ears, and noses.
The shared past of the Banjaras and the Romani feels less like history and more like something still in motion, the echo of a traveling song or mirrored embroidery in the sun.
Even though the Romani peoples and Banjara tribes have been separated for over a thousand years, their shared echoes reveal an enduring transcontinental identity carried across time, memory, and distance.