When ‘Janaganamana’ could not save me

Expelled, beaten and humiliated: Stories of Bengali Migrant Workers

by Subha Protim Roy Chowdhury

This article is based on the present disturbances faced by migrant workers, particularly their experiences with custodial torture and pushbacks. In contemporary India, rural-to-urban migration is reshaping the economic and social landscape. In our interactions, we noted a variation that evoked a shared identity among migrants from West Bengal.

Ranajit Guha characterized migration as an “absolute discontinuity.”^[1] Described as "Temporary People," the concept of migrant temporariness highlights the necessity of creating a new discourse regarding migration for those who lack the prospect of permanently residing in host states and will eventually have to depart. The recent unlawful detention, torture, and pushback of Bengali Muslims from states governed by the BJP appear to be a calculated strategy aimed at establishing a 'Muslim-free India.' And this temporariness “disturbs the distinction between future, past and present.”^[2] 

As per the 2011 census, India has one migrant for every three people. Most of these individuals have moved within their state, but the rest have relocated to another state. Based on the latest accommodation status (Place of Last Residence or PLR), out of the 45.58 crore migrants in the country, 5.43 crore have moved from their home state to other states for various reasons.^[3] The demand for labor in economically strong states has thus been met by workers from economically weaker states.

The rural economy of West Bengal is greatly influenced by migrant workers. It is not easy to find a village in rural Bengal, particularly in the backward districts and zones, where no families have migrated to other states in search of work. Malda and Murshidabad are two major sources of migrant workers.

"In 2020, when the [Covid-19] lockdown left people stranded across the nation, a rough estimate indicated that around 1.1 million migrant workers were from West Bengal. Murshidabad district accounted for the highest migration among the state’s 23 districts,” a government official said.^[4]  Presumably, the COVID-19 episode showed temporary counter-streams, but the migration persists. MGNREGA was a substantial source of income for the rural population, but the Centre’s decision to withhold funds due to irregularities and corruption resulted in a mass exodus. It is a fact that MGNREGA was a crucial step toward restoring both dignity and survival for those who depend on this program to make ends meet.

Under such a backdrop, Bengali-speaking migrant workers in BJP-ruled states are asked to prove their "Indianness." They have been detained and tortured by the police, asked to provide citizenship documents, and in extreme cases, been forced out of the country. Extreme terror and traumatic mental conditions are gripping Bengali workers. Many of those who came home are now returning to their previous workplaces. Others are considering moving to other states, but not those controlled by the BJP.

The reality is that there is no work in this state. If there is work somewhere, it is not regular, and the wages are very low.

“You are Bangladeshi, in this country you do not have a place”

Najumuddin Mondal is a simple person. Tartipur village, under the Hariharpara Police Station in Murshidabad District, is a village of migrant workers. It’s rare to find a family where none of its members work outside of the state. Najimuddin has been staying in Nalasopara East, which is part of Palghar district in the Mumbai Metropolitan Region, for the last one and a half years. He never imagined that such an incident could happen. Najimuddin stated that they were taken to the Kalina Police Station at midnight on June 13 after being picked up by the Mumbai Police. “I saw about 150 workers gathered there. They had been taken from various locations in Mumbai. We showed our documents: PAN, Aadhaar, Voter Card. The police took the originals of these documents. Our fingerprints were taken on a machine. I had the most terrifying experience in my life that day. I left my village and my family and migrated to Mumbai to keep my children healthy and protect my family from hunger. These cards and papers are my proof; I was confused about what they would do. I was still unsure of what was going to happen to me in the end.”

“Our cell phones were taken, too. Police inquired if there was any Bangladeshi contact number. We were detained in a marriage hall. The following day, we were instructed to go to the officer's room alone. I was too fearful because some of us, including me, had been assaulted the day before by police. I stated multiple times that my residence is in Murshidabad and I am an Indian. But they continued to strike. On that day, I felt a great deal of fear upon learning that the police were once again interrogating us separately, wondering if this time they would come with a baton or something even more fearsome! I was trembling. Two police officers were present, and they instructed me to sing the national anthem. Initially, I found it difficult to comprehend, so I asked them, ‘What are you instructing me, Sirs?’ An officer abused me by using slang words and said, ‘Sing the national song.’ Trust me, I was both weeping and singing, 'Janaganamana.' I believed that this song would serve as a shield for me. I can't talk about others, but my cherished song could not protect me from being tagged as 'Bangladeshi.' Oh, Allah!”

“We were assured we would be transported to Kolkata from Pune Airport. Our hands were secured to the airplane seat using a zip tie. Our hands were released at Bagdogra airport. We received some food. We formed a line at the airport before being transported by car. We cannot recall the exact time of the night. At that moment, I had no consciousness of the time or the calendar. We were detained in the custody of the BSF; I am unaware of the specific camp or battalion. We were transported from the BSF camp to the international border between India and Bangladesh. The BSF assaulted us once more at the camp. Following the police in Maharashtra, the border guards did the same. I wanted to know, ‘Why are you assaulting us?’ Subsequently, they began to strike us with cane sticks again. The BSF compelled us to disrobe and conducted a search. I possessed fifteen thousand in cash, which they seized while threatening, ‘You can’t take a single coin from our country.’ They gave me three hundred Bangladeshi currency and a food packet with a water bottle. That is all. This is everything I have received from my motherland.”

“The BSF escorted us to the international gate and warned us, ‘Do not attempt to come back to India; if you do, we will shoot you on sight.’ We were pushed back into the jungle on the opposite side of the border. It was so dark that we were unable to see anything. Meanwhile, Indians also had land in this part; there was a tea garden, and we sat there overnight. The following morning, at six o'clock, the exact date eludes my memory; it might have been June 14, as we arrived at Bagdogra Airport on June 13th. We were greeted by local residents. They inquired about our identity, to which I responded that I am an Indian. Two individuals from Bangladesh were with us. They departed in the morning. The three of us stayed behind. Subsequently, we discovered that the name of the Bangladeshi village was Patgram, located in the Lalmonirhat District of the Rangpur Division, in the far northern region of Bangladesh. Due to our apprehension, we were unable to enter the village, as the Border Guard Bangladesh was present, and to the north, there was no route back because the BSF was conducting patrols. We found ourselves seated in the tea garden, on what we believed was Indian territory. We did not even abandon the soil of our homeland; we were forcibly removed from it.”

“A number of young YouTubers from Patgram documented our statement and disseminated that video. They assisted us by providing an opportunity to communicate with our family members and police authorities in Murshidabad. They also provided us with food. For two days and two nights, we were exposed to the open sky.”

“The BSF arrived on the afternoon of the 16th to escort us. They approached and stated, ‘We are here to take you.’ Subsequently, they transported us to the Makhliganj police station. We lacked the courage to inquire why we were initially pushed back and why they had now returned to retrieve us. I then returned home on June 17.”

Meanwhile, the Officer-in-Charge of the Mekhliganj Police Station, Mani Bhusan Sarkar, stated that upon receiving information from the police stations in Murshidabad and Bardhaman regarding Indian nationals in Bangladesh, he notified the authorities of the BSF and the Border Guard Bangladesh. “The three men were handed over to us [Mekhliganj police station] after a flag meeting at the border,” the Officer-in-Charge said. According to sources, the three men were pushed into Bangladesh on Friday night somewhere along the North Bengal and Bangladesh border.^[5] 

References

[1] Ranajit Guha, The Small Voice of History: Collected Essays, 2002.

[2] Priya Menon, “Pravasi Really Means Absence,” South Asia: Journal of South Asian Studies.

[3] The Census of India, 2011.

[4] Hindustan Times, 14 March, 2024.

[5] Shiv Sahay Singh, “Three West Bengal residents pushed into Bangladesh by BSF, return after State govt.’s intervention,” The Hindu, 15 June, 2025.