Nachni are to be found in different parts of eastern India, mostly in the district of Purulia, lying a few hundred kilometres from Kolkata. It is through us that the age-old folk art Jhumur has survived - but we lead a miserable life.

My name is Postubala. My mother was a nachni and she was addicted to alcohol. One time when she was drunk, when I about seven, my mother sold me to a man who became my patron or ‘rasik’. This is how my life of suffering began.

As a nachni I trained in singing and dancing and performed at public functions. I was used as a money earner for my patron and his family.

But eight months ago, I decided enough was enough and I took the initiative and formed an organization for my felow nachni to fight against all the injustices meted out to us and call for equal rights in society.

When my mother sold me to my rasik, she told me that I would have to dance from then on, but I didn't want to. I was too small to understand what it was all about, but ultimately I had to compromise as there was no future for me.

I had no true father or mother. Being a nachni’s daughter I was a social pariah and no one would marry me. If I went to work somewhere then the men of the house will try and take advantage of me knowing that I was a nachni’s daughter. Pressurised by such circumstances I became a nachni too.

I was born in Manbhum, Purulia. I loved singing traditional Jhumur. I ran away from my first Rasik because he was very violent. My second rasik was a man who trained me in Jhumur song and dance and he is the man I came to love. He treats me badly but I love him - that is the story of almost all nachnis.

When my rasik first brought me home everyone in his family was outraged. They hurled abuse at me and tried to throw me out. Every day they would abuse me and call me names.

We used to attend different functions in order for me to learn the art. I was also trained by Sindhubala Devi a veteran nachni who has trained many of the present generation nachnis in the art of jhumur.

After each performance and after paying the musicians, I would only be left with Rs 200 (around 2 pounds). That money I had to give to my rasik’s family. Later when my rasik’s wife left him, her maintenance was also paid from my earnings.

We perform at functions at night and give people a lot of entertainment. They happily cheer us on during our performance but once outside, in the morning, they refuse to recognise us. They show contempt to us as nachnis and never even acknowledge us.

In the rasik’s family it is even worse. The rasik lives inside and eats with his family but I am not allowed to do that. My earnings help put food on their table but I am treated as an untouchable. I cannot enter the main house or the kitchen. If I touch the water by mistake they will throw away the water. They throw my plate of food in front of me like I am a dog.

As if in life the amount of humiation we received wasn’t enough, we are further insulted in death. When a nachni dies her legs are tied with a rope and the body is thrown into the river. And this tradition continues till to this day. If the rasik dies before them we are thrown out of the village to fend for ourselves.

There was an old nachni called Rajbala. When her Rasik died, his family members took her to the court and made her sign over everything to them. She was already ailing at that time and they just dropped her under a tree and went off. She died there alone and no one came forward to give her a burial. She was just dumped in the river.

I in my mid-40s now but I don’t have any children because we are not allowed to have any children. Often nachnis as young as 16-years-old are taken for hysterectomy operations to stop them getting pregnant.

But now we are fighting for equal rights in society. We are demanding a proper living place for ourselves, and the status of entertainment workers. After all, the ancient tradition of Jhumur song and dance is alive because of us.

The organisation I founded - Manbhum Loksanskriti O Nachni Unnyan Samiti - is now officially recognised and in just a few months, all the nachnis in Purulia have become members and we have nachnis joining us from states like Jharkhand and Orissa.

We are campaigning for a widows' pension for aged nachnis and proper burial rights. We just want to be treated as human beings.

Postubala Devi told her story to Sweeble correspondent Nilanjana Bhattacharya in Purulia.