Miru Baha is the Santali word for the flower of the Indian Mallow (Abutilon indicum). This plant has several uses: it is used in traditional medicine, its ground fruits are smeared on the walls of Santal houses during the Dasai festival, and children use its pebble-like fruits to play. The poet is enamoured of the beauty of the yellow flowers of the Miru Baha, even comparing those to a bride during the wedding rituals, dressed in clothes dyed yellow with turmeric, sitting atop the traditional bamboo basket, the dowrah. The poet is nostalgic about the past and wishes to return to the days of the Chaay and the Champa, two ancient kingdoms of the Santals. He wishes to dance in the akhra – the communal space in the village where the villagers gather at the end of a day to relax or socialize – and dance with a Besra woman. The Besra are one of the 12 septs among the Santals; these women are known to be adept at dancing. The poet wishes to play the tumdak (the longish drum), the banam (a string instrument, quite like a sarangi) and the tamak (the large, bowl-shaped drum) at an akhra as it was done years ago.
Miru Baha, why are you so pretty?
I walk beside you and am mesmerized
Your petite stalk and leaves amaze me
As I praise the Creator for bringing you to life
Your leaves are cut in beauty
Even the day and the dusk follow your
Yellow flowers, like a bride on the dowrah
Your hue, Miru Baha, casts its own magic
Your green suggests how serene it must’ve been
In the era of the Chaay and the Champa
I am filled with a desire to return to the past
And dance with a Besra woman at an akhra
Where have those ecstatic dances gone?
Those tunes are lost and so are those songs.
You’ve gathered the beats of the tumdak and
The strum of the banam within your bud, Miru Baha
Lend me a tamak so I may beat it in rapture