 miles of dense green forest southeast of Madhya Pradesh. This is Bastar, the home of tribals from time immemorial. A journey through Bastar is just like stepping through time between our present and prehistoric past. Bastar is as old as the hills, a part of the Dandakaranya mentioned by Valmiki in the Ramayana. This is the biggest district in Asia, 15,224 square miles in area, where about a million tribal people or Adivasi people live, the Marias, Halwas, Payas, Daralas and Bhutoras. A joining Bastar are three states, Maharashtra, Andhra and Urusa. One comes across 50 or 60 huts suddenly after miles of dusty track. Bastar sways in the unspoiled life of love and rustic beauty, but urban habits are permeating slowly, steadily. The staple food of the tribals is rice, jowar and kulkhi. Other than this, forest produce any animal that comes their way. Mahawa, Landa and Sulphi are the favorite alcoholic drinks, and oh, how he enjoys his drink and smoke. And then the trance. 60% of Bastar is covered by evergreen, rich dense forests, which grow rare and valuable soil and teak. Burn and slash, this primitive method of cultivation, known locally as Pendu, is on its way out with the advent of the plough. This is Ghotu, a dormitory of the young, removed from the village. This is the place where young men and women learn the art of living and loving. For the gay timers, I know I am beautiful, but last minute touches are always welcome. And I am proud of my mate too. And finally, a drink before the dance is a must in an Adivasi home. Eat what you will, the rest you take to the market. Yes, the market day is a very special day. People from distant villages flock here and barter forest products, vegetables for salt, jaggery and cloth. Bastar has seen its time of glory too. The ruins tell the story of Nagavanshu, Chalukyas and the Null rulers. Tribals have their own deities, temples, and the priests who are held in high esteem. Tribal or not, death is inevitable. A stone for the dead and gone, and the morning goes on for 10 days. The creaking wheels of time have brought them to a point where the road to the new world begins. A tribal would utilize the services of a young one at home, rather than send him to the earth-floored schools where he learns and understands the disturbing documents that civilization brings. But the scene is changing now. There is doubt whether the new one or the old magic medicine man is good. Even when due to malarial climate and unhygienic conditions they have grown, never needed it nor his forefathers. But just to face the new world, he must have one, otherwise he may be taken for a stricter. From Tom Tom drums to Tare Takka is a big stride. Just strike here and zoom comes the response from the outer world and it sounds good too. Bastar cannot boast a very fertile land, but it can be improved. That is why men who know have come all the way and the results are fabulous. The hump of the bull, the Baladilla hills are virtually King Solomon's mine for any developing nation. This mountainous terrain of Bastar is an inexhaustible storehouse of iron ore and other rich minerals which the world needs and Bastar has. Probably this is the beginning. Bastar never had a good road, leave alone a railway line or a train. Bastar has an answer to the world's ever-growing demand for timber and forests here are getting attention on a priority basis. The bell metal industry is as old as Bastar itself and now it is prospering with new urban patronage. Kosa is an indigenous silk product of Bastar and it has caught up with the changing patterns of life to suit the fashion-conscious world. The folk arts of Bastar are also fast-feeding the needs of urban society. There lies the road to progress and Bastar is on its way.