Laxmikanta Joshi
Jhabua (Madhya Pradesh): In the courtyard of the Government Primary School in Negadiya village, in Madhya Pradesh’s Jhabua district, rows of plastic chairs have been laid out under a large tent. Women in bright sarees are seated on one side, their eyes fixed on the stage. On the other side, young men lean forward, listening intently. It is only nine in the morning and the sun beats down on the mud paths around the school.
Superintendent of Police Padma Vilochan Shukla stands on the stage, addressing the crowd. Behind him, a banner reads Jan Samvad, or public dialogue. But this is not a law-and-order session. Instead, the senior officer begins narrating the story of Angulimal, a feared dacoit who transformed into a monk after a meeting with the Buddha. The audience listens in silence as he draws a parallel with present-day customs.
From the story of Angulimal, the conversation shifts to rising costs of marriage and the practice of dowry, the harmful effects of alcohol and blaring music of DJs that has become common at celebrations. The SP asks villagers to take a pledge — to give up these practices.
This is the scene from one of many such meetings being held in villages across Jhabua, a tribal district in western Madhya Pradesh.
The district police, along with community elders and panchayat members, have launched what they call the 3D campaign, targeting three common practices — DJ (loud music), Daaru (alcohol), and Daapa — a form of dowry where the groom’s family is expected to give money or jewellery to the bride’s side.
Dialogue
The idea for the campaign, according to SP Shukla, came not from a policy directive but from conversations. During meetings with local police personnel and panchayat members, a pattern emerged: disputes, debts, and even crimes linked to these practices. Young couples were starting their married life in debt, having spent lakhs on wedding DJs or paying daapa. Alcohol-related violence was common during celebrations.
Initially started in mid-2024, the campaign gained momentum after a large conference in January 2025, where panch-patels or tribal village elders from across the district pledged their support. The idea was to not rely solely on enforcement but to create social change through participation.
“We realised that if people don’t see these customs as harmful, any ban will only bring resistance,” said Shukla.
The campaign is currently active in tribal districts like Jhabua, Alirajpur, and Ratlam. It is not part of a wider state government initiative, and SPs are implementing it at the local level.
Discarding Daapa
In many villages, the impact is beginning to show. According to Prakash Chauhan, who handles public relations at the SP’s office, over 55 weddings have taken place since January without the 3Ds.
In Kalakhunt village, Dawala Ninama decided not to accept any daapa during his daughter’s wedding in May. He printed a message on the wedding card: “A daughter is the pride of the family. Daapa is not the price of a daughter.”
Of the three Ds, daapa is perhaps the most deeply enmeshed in society and financially damaging. In tribal weddings, it traditionally refers to the jewellery, cash, or goods given by the groom’s family to the bride’s. In practice, however, it often reverses direction. The bride’s family is expected to give large sums — anywhere between Rs 3 to Rs 5 lakh, sometimes more — to the groom’s side. This has pushed many families into debt.
When daapa isn’t paid in full, it strains the marriage. Sometimes the bride is harassed; more often, both husband and wife begin their married life under pressure to repay a loan. “We’ve seen people migrate the very next day of marriage, just to start earning,” said social worker Bahadur Hatila.
Ninama recalls how, when he got married in 2006, he had to borrow Rs 60,000 for daapa. The debt pushed him and his wife into years of labour work in Gujarat. He didn’t want his daughter’s marriage to start on the same note. The public conversations led by the police gave him the confidence to go ahead with his decision, despite community pressure.
In another instance, Pallavi Baria and Manoj Bamnia of Lakhpura village married without daapa. The sound of the DJ was replaced by traditional instruments. As a ritual, only ₹1.25 was exchanged in the name of dowry.
In Gehlar Badi village, Vasna Bhabor arranged her daughter Lassu’s wedding without DJ or alcohol. The baraat was welcomed with dhol-mandal, and guests were served a simple meal. The SP attended the ceremony and handed Bhabor a certificate of appreciation.
Similarly, in Bochka village, the superintendent of police attended the wedding of Galu Dindor’s daughter Durga, who married without alcohol, DJ or dowry. The SP brought a citation as a gift from the police department and was welcomed with drums and a ceremonial turban.
Families who organise such weddings are being recognised publicly. The SP or his officers often attend in person, greeting the couple and acknowledging their decision. Before participating in such ceremonies, officials verify the age of both bride and groom.
“The idea is to make it a moment of pride,” said Chauhan from the SP’s office. “If someone gives up alcohol or doesn’t use a DJ, they shouldn’t feel like they’re doing something small. We want the community to support it.”
The police are calling on every couple who got married without dowry. They are being garlanded with flowers, applauded, and their experiences are being heard. This has become more of a social celebration than a government programme. The campaign is now receiving support not just from the police, but also from religious groups, youth organisations, and panchayat leaders, Chauhan said.
SP Shukla added, “Good wishes and letters of appreciation can be sent through police station or outpost in-charges, but going among the villagers and talking has a wider impact.”
Drums over DJs
Instead of DJs that once cost up to Rs 1 lakh per wedding, families are returning to dhol-mandal music, Chauhan said.
Artists like Prema and Varese Damor, who play drums in Jhabua town, say demand for their work has increased. “Earlier, we were only called for rituals. Now we’re playing during the baraat and main function too,” said Prema.
“The money is the same, but at least we’re getting work again.”
Women like Reena Bhabhor note a change in the atmosphere. “Earlier, boys used to dance to DJs, and fights would break out. Now we women also dance, to our songs, in our rhythm, with open hearts.”
Driven by community
The most notable aspect of the 3D campaign is that it functions more like a community-led social movement than a top-down directive. While it was initiated by the police, it has grown through local participation. Panch-patels, religious leaders, schoolteachers, social workers, and youth groups have all been involved in spreading awareness in Gram Sabhas and village meetings.
To sustain the momentum, police teams visit schools and colleges, asking young people to take a pledge — not to drink alcohol, not to misuse DJs, and not to demand dowry or daapa. Youth who publicly support the campaign and help spread the message are recognised as ‘3D Warriors’, and awarded certificates and letters of appreciation.
The campaign’s first large-scale district conference, held in January 2025, brought together over 600 community members. According to those involved, it served as a turning point, encouraging more families to break with long-held practices.
The campaign has no official budget or formal monitoring system. However, the SP’s office is keeping an informal record of weddings and public responses. While it may be too early to quantify the long-term impact, some police station areas have reported a small dip in crime, police said. Officers also said that the activity has helped in building trust among the community.
Damage
That said, not everyone welcomed the campaign. When the police cracked down on DJs earlier this year, DJ operators protested, blocking the highway and clashing with police on March 5. Over 30 people were booked, and several officers were injured. Local news reported that nearly 188 DJ operators faced action.
The police maintain that they’re not banning DJs outright, but asking families to avoid them voluntarily, especially at high volume or with vulgar songs.
“The drive is about reducing debt, noise pollution, and alcohol-related violence. The tribal region has its own rich traditions. We are just creating space for those to return,” SP Shukla said.
While the campaign has gathered momentum, it still faces limitations. Practices like daapa are culturally entrenched. Alcohol remains widely accessible. And many families still hesitate to break from social expectations unless others do so first.
(Laxmikanta Joshi is a freelance journalist and a member of 101Reporters, a pan-India network of grassroots reporters)
