Wednesday, December 11, 2013

Youthness on a bus to Ahmedabad

The bus wasn't crowded at all. Surprising, given that it was a bus to such an important city. The bus was well maintained, and the crowd seemed mostly middle class. Couldn't have been more than 25 people in a bus of 65 capacity.
There were two couples who seemed newly married. Such newly married ones are always the cutest. Its such a joy to be around them, and feel their love for each other - though it’s a sin to look, muhahaha :P

Thus the bus was mostly quiet with very little chatter. Yours truly was engaged observing the bus and its passengers, the roads outside and pretending to read 'Following Fish', which in itself was a rather delightfully written travelogue of India's coast. All in all, it was a sort of comfortable monotony.

It was broken by a sudden shrill. Some youth on the third row was listening to music on his phone, suddenly broke into song. And these are the latest, snazzy Bollywood numbers - but the good, old youthy, cheesy 80's ones - the ones that contract labourers and truck drivers all over India have such great affinity for ! 
He went along at full flow, singing both the male and female parts of this unrecognisable duet - youthfully altering his voice for the female versions too, as though he wasn't shrill enough already.
"….Tum hi ho, meri nasha..."  or something to that extent.

The shock of the moment left everyone else stunned. The instinctive reactions were disbelief and incomprehension. Seriously, given the situation, its hard to believe that there's actually a guy singing. Once that shock passed, a quick-to-trigger middle aged hothead raised a cry to stop the nonsense - "Bakwaas bandh kar". But it never seemed to have any effect on our dude, for he continued untroubled by such feeble concerns ! People then looked around to the conductor, the authority in the bus, the representative of the state, which clearly is responsible for law and order - more than hope for action from his side, were actually curious to see how he would react. It’s a sort of unconscious behaviour for most of us Indians. 

It is at this juncture that bus journey came alive (as though this freak show hadn't already livened it!). Sportspersons and sports viewers would know that the audience is always the 12th man - what makes sport such a spectacle isn't just the players, but the audience too. Now in the bus, where our youthy dude is obviously causing discomfort to some of the passengers, and also just rebuffed the efforts to stop him gets an unexpected response from the rest of the crowd.

Of course, being quite a youth myself, I was actually enjoying the proceedings - but the rather quiet and dull atmosphere of the bus led me to certain misjudgments of my passengers. I was worried that this voice of youthness would get muscled out by the normalcy of the bus. I was under the impression that youthness in today's world is under such short supply, that our fuses too have so short - and we have become sort of intolerant of such youth behaviour. The crowd so totally proved me wrong.

As soon the middle aged man's efforts were rebuffed - the crowd started smiling, beautiful smiles on all the 20 odd faces ! And they all turned around to notice that everyone was indeed smiling. And this converted the smiles to laughter. The 20 odd passengers, all strangers to each other, not bothering to engage in conversation previously, were somehow mysteriously connected by this inexplicable force - were laughing at this moment. They displayed their own youthness qualities - an ability to appreciate the oddity of the youth who's singing, the quirky randomness of the situation and the fact that all were able to feel this !

The impact was so much that, this fuelled conversation between the strangers for the next hour, and even when the bus halted for tea - people were sitting together for tea, sharing cigarettes, making Khaini and Miraj (Gujarat's favourite!) mixes for each other. That youth who started singing made such an impact on all the bus. My idea of the world did change momentarily. The world has much more youthness than we think. We need to just open our eyes to it. The world aint a boring place at all - people have an innately youthy, we need to allow ourselves to be so.


We are a society that loved Om Shanti Om - youthness shall always thrive here. And for that, we shall be ever grateful to live in such times. 

Saturday, November 23, 2013

What coasts be these !

The coast here in the Mundra taluk of Kutch is entirely different from any coast I've seen in the south. Some rudimentary geography we've learnt informs us that the north western part of our coast has a much more gradual continental shelf, and hence, the sea is much more shallow than in the southern coasts. The unique geography also results in a highly variable sealine, as the sea has space to move in and out of land with ease. The result is a huge difference the high tide line and low tide line. Its almost 5 kilometers, according to some fishermen!

It was all well and good, for it made logical sense then. But none of that prepares you for actually witnessing the Kutch coast. One is aware of the facts that it is a shallow coast, but its difficult to express how weird the shallow coast actually looks and feels. The sea seems more a lagoon, as the shallow shelf gently caresses the sea to ease into the land. So, here I was accustomed to Marina beach type speedy waves… what you get is gentle, soft ones. Also missing is the rich noise of the waves, as they thud onto rocks, or grains of beach sand. That sweet sound of a sea, that we normally hear many miles away from the coastline, the sound that always awakens our childhood and stirs us… that is missing. The strangeness is almost disconcerting.

Dont let these apparent waves fool you. They're hardly waves!
 These are no sandy coasts, nor rocky ones, only mudflats dominate the landscape.  Fishermen have their temporary dwellings on the mudflats, on slightly raised, earthen platforms. These dwellings are just logs of wood for framework, with jute covers for walls. They're raised because the dwellings are within the high tide line. So, very often, the sea enters these mudflats. Why cant they just stay outside the mudflats you wonder? Well, cause the high tide line and low tide is so vast, one cant expect them to travel 5 kms just to reach the sea during low tide!

Mudflats in the tidal zone. Puddles are remnants of last weeks high tide. 
 Since such shallow waters don’t breed fish, the fishermen travel close to 15-20 kilometers into the sea where sufficient depth is reached. This automatically raises fuel costs for their boats. And as a result, a lot of the loans and minor advances(microloans) they take are for purchasing diesel. However, the loan taking practises of the fishermen need much more elaboration. It deserves a post in itself, and it shall have it. So, more on this and their spending habits in weeks to come!

The shallowness of the sea also results in many practices that are made possible due to this geography. Donkeys and horses are used by all fishermen to transport from dwelling to the boat. This is possible as the animals can walk many 100 meters inside the sea (as can be deciphered from the pic). These come in handy when loading equipment and unloading the catch. There's a local saying too, "Who fishes without a donkey!"…

Hard to spot donkeys here. But suffice to note that people are walking way into the sea.
 The only minus is that most nights are disturbed by braying donkeys.


To end with an inconsequential observation, a norm here is that men wear full pants or pyjamas. No one wears shorts or even lungis. Given the coastal setting, it seemed very odd at first. But as elaborated above, the tidal waves are hardly strong, plus its such a shallow coast. So, a quick 'wetting the feet' that is part of the southern beach experience is absent here. One can actually stand with your feet inside the water, with your pants not getting wet an all. Its like standing in stagnant water. There're hardly any waves as such. What I'm trying to say is that, shorts and lungis are not a necessity here.

Photo credits : Self

Wednesday, November 13, 2013

Drinking water in rural Kutch

Supplying safe drinking water to rural households has been a problem we've been trying to solve for eons now.


 Tata power has supplied Bhadreshwar village in coastal Kutch with this R.O Water treatment plant. It's been donated to the panchayat sort of. So, villagers pay Rs.5 per can of 30 litres. If they want it home delivered, an extra Rs.5 is paid to the small errand boys. It's run by some of the village youths, who no doubt have close affiliations to the sarpanch. This system just started about 2 months back. And about 120 households avail of these cans. There are over 800 households in this village. Its an interesting model...  


 We see large government funded free, piped drinking water systems work effectively in so few places. Especially given that they're always implemented by the panchayat through NREGA, Swajal Dhara, NRDWP or other schemes, drinking water projects have always been linked to large construction like laying pipes and building tanks - the kind of operations that most panchayats do such a shoddy job of. In such a context, is this a reasonable solution?

A family of five would probably need at least one can a day - drinking, cooking, etc. Meaning, drinking water costs alone come to Rs.180 per month. I doubt any Govt sponsored piped water scheme in India cost as much. But still, this system ensures water atleast reaches the houses.

Is Rs.180 per month really prohibitive? Is there a minimum price to pay to ensure the system runs effectively?

The larger question being asked is... Is pricing a basic good necessarily bad? 
Mind you, arguments put forth here, may also be used for distribution of some other basic goods like food. 

PS: This area falls right next to the Mundra coastal SEZ park, where several other controversial projects have and are coming up. It has seen several protests for the last few years by mostly fishermen, who constitute over 50% of the villages here. No doubt corporate initiatives such as the R.O plant need to be seen with the SEZ background.


Photo credits: Self. 

Thursday, June 20, 2013

Hinterland journalism... of the yellow kind !

I just wanted to share some of the really youthy and bizarre tales I've heard from my stay in the Nemad region of Dewas district, Madhya Pradesh.

I really hope you enjoy the stories as much as I did listening to them.

Some of the names of the persons are fictional. And some creative license has been used to garnish the spicy tales with extra masala... but the events are true, and I have been true to the spirit of my many story tellers !

Go ahead and enjoy ... Love, Sex aur Dhoka... with additional bonus features of Dhamaka.

What?  How can I end with a bang? with dhamaka ?
Picture abhi bhi baaki hai dost... as they say. In keeping with the spirit of feel-goodness that is important in Indian story-telling, I have ended with a much deserved 'Happy Ending'.... :)

PS : You pervert boys... its not the happy ending that you're thinking of ! 

Love...

This is the village of Panduthalab. It has a majority Kurku population, but has a sizable population of Bhillala, Barela tribes as well. There are also a few Muslim families here. There is a government school here, and at least a majority of the kids attend it, till the 10th standard.

There was this girl who used to study reasonably well. She was a Bhillala. The 3 teachers who used to frequent the school (more appropriate than 'teach at the school') from time to time, used to have a good opinion of her, as among the few girls who could read English, albeit very slowly. Among the other students, she also had an impression of being a clever girl, and at times… Cunning !

She was seen hanging around a slightly older boy many times. Also, boys in her class used to say that she has done 'several favours' for money. Thus, this girl somehow developed a rather bad reputation, at least among the boys.

Some weeks back, she went missing. So did the slightly older guy. And he happened to be a Muslim.

Soon, the families erupted. A group of Bhillala families demanded answers from the muslim families. So much so that, many were asking them to be removed from the village.

At this point, apparently, many students told the girl's father… that the girl herself was "like that only"
and that she would do ANYTHING for money… at which point, the dad apparently went … "Oh.. Like that, so my girl is of bad character. Its her fault", and ceasefire was declared. (Sorry, but this is genuinely how I was told the story ! :P )  


Here's where a few of her friends say that our 17 yr old heroine was truly in love with the 23 yr old boy. Lets hope that’s the case… for it would seem true love has prospered. 

Meanwhile, no one knows where they actually fled !   

Sex...

This is a story from a village called Nimmanpur. Now, most of us wouldn't have heard of this place. But out here, everyone knows Nimmanpur. Its all because of what happened here over the last 6 months. It’s the talk of the whole tehsil folks! 

You see, there was a marriage some time back in Nimmanpur. The girl looked good, and was sought after by many. The groom considered himself lucky and was looking forward to a very "satisfying" married life… hahaha. 
And apparently it was so for a few weeks. The young couple enjoyed themselves thoroughly apparently!  Lets call this dude 'A'. 

Then one day… she went missing. It later transpired that she had eloped with another dude, B from the same village. Obviously, A's family erupted. A's folks barged into B's family and relatives, and fist fights ensued. The panchayat intervened. B reluctantly returned with our heroine. As a satisfactory order that pleased all, the panchayat ordered that the girl could stay with B, and that B should pay a lump sum amount to A. He did that gladly. 
Everyone was happy… what a nice way to end this great story… what weird shit right ??

WRONG ... there's one person you've underestimated in this narration so far … our heroine herself !

A little after a week of this commotion, she again eloped with another dude C from the very same village ! Again the same feud ensued, A's family laughed all their way. C too reluctantly came back, and he too ended up paying the exact same amount, with added interest to B.  Seriously folks ! 

Just when we thought it was all getting over, she did it once again, and eloped with her neighbour this time, D. The only problem is that D isn't returning like B and C did. So, all the commotion and chaos has now been deflected to D's dad, who truly is the real focus of our story… His is the name, and his is the plight that has caught the attention and gained the sympathy of the entire Nemad region. I shall refrain from naming him online… but shall surely bring it up in private conversations with you folks! A true legend he has become. I have his pic too.


He has no idea where his son is, does not have the money for his son's escapades, and is being hounded by C's family for the cash !
His hopes are that the girl will eventually run away with another E, so that C can directly get his money from E, and he can wriggle his way out of this loop…  That my friends, is pure native genius. No wonder, this man's such a legend out here.  

Dhoka !

This story comes from the village of Sitapuri. This is slightly tight-knit community with lots of large families. Most people seem to be distantly related to most others here.

One of most outspoken women, Ranibai also happened to be a SHG leader here. Her strong and caring personality has won her many friends here, and is one of the reasons for the SHG's success in Sitapuri.
However, not everyone is so awed by her talents. Least of all, her neighbour, Lakshmi Bai. She is a widow with a 15 year old daughter.

One fine morning, Ranibai's 8 year old son passed by Lakshmi's house on his way home. That afternoon, she noticed that a pack containing Rs.20,000 went missing. She soon went shouting all over the village that Rani's son stole it. On coming back home in ten minutes, the pack was again found exactly where it was earlier.
Lakshmi alleged that Rani's son stole, and kept it back out of fear, while Rani alleged that it was lakshmi's own daughter who stole it and then returned it out of fear.
Apparently, theirs was feud with some prior history. Lakshmi was earlier a part of the SHG headed by Rani. She had privately sold off some equipment belonging to the SHG and was hence expelled. Rani felt that for a long time, Lakshmi has tried to character assassinate her.

Rani says, her reputation of integrity has been tarnished. She proudly said she protected 2 lakhs of the SHG money at home, not allowing her husband to touch it for his Mahua sessions. 
And everytime they've had a fight, she has always backed down.

"Not this time baby", she said…


Rani filed a police complaint against her neighbour, for selling illegal Ganja, and for other amorous offences. She then pledged to make some videos of her and use it as evidence for it ! She says, "I know the kind of people who frequent young widows !" .

This story is far from being over … I shall be in constant touch with my friends in this village for sure !

Dhamaka !

Kranti at Mirzapur .

The village, Mirzapur is unheard of to most, and will remain so. Nothing particularly noteworthy had happened in this village in the past. And whatever story I shall narrate here too shall be forgotten pretty soon. But its nothing short of remarkable.

This is an entirely tribal village, with a majority of them being Bhillala Thakur, a sub-tribe of the Bhil family of tribes. It comes very close to the forests lying on the Udainagar-Katkut road.  These forests were all owned by the Forests Dept. For several years now, a stretch of land had been farmed upon by the tribals, and suddenly the Forest Dept. woke up to this fact, in 2009. They claimed it was forest land. Some villagers claimed it was their ancestral land, and not owned by the Forest Dept.

The exact truth is hidden somewhere, all that we know are some of its different hues.

This created quite a flutter in Mirzapur, and rumblings of a displeasure began.
Some discussions and queries ensued between the panchayat and the forest officials. However, what transpired after that is both fuzzy and unknown to me. All we know is that these talks were never successful. Thus, the people who were going to lose their lands, and the village in general were unsure of what is going to happen of this issue. The situation was uncertain, at best. All this of course, was only until a certain Mr.Bannerjee appeared on the scene.

This man spent weeks with them, talking to them about their plight, about their rights, and about the limits of the rights of the state. He gave them several books, that the kids attending school could read. Once he was sufficiently convinced that they could take matters into their own hands, when they were sufficiently enthused by his ideas. This was when he played his trump, and last card… He supplied them with guns and fled!

Tantio Mamo was what they called their lands, after their legendary Tantio Baba, a leader of the Bhil Uprisings of the 19th century against the British. Together with their new found vigour, and guns… they screamed their battle cry,
"Humrio Hai, Humrio Hai ...Tantio Mamo Humrio Hai"

 14-15 of them laid out plans and started attacking the forest range offices. The forest dept had to call on the state police. The village was cordoned off. Massive check posts came up along the other village roads. In meanwhile, the gun battle intensified. It went on for a couple of days, apparently. Four villagers and a policeman died in the battle, before it finally stopped.
The exact status of the land is still uncertain. The 11 remaining fighters maintained that they defeated the police.

The village built a monument, a memorial on their behalf. It is still venerated. It is a stone structure of their Baba Tantio in the middle, surrounded by the villagers who died in battle.



































No one of course knows whatever happened to Mr.Bannerjee.  

Its actually sad that further details couldn't be collected… but what a chilling story indeed !

PS: One should also note how the Bhil Uprisings of the 1860's is a part of their memory, it is embedded in their living heritage. Either that, or it’s a re-invocation, some sort of a political message to re-kindle Bhil identity and solidarity in recent times.   

And a Happy Ending !


The first ever love marriage of Borkhalya village… the guy and girl used to like each other. They wanted to get married. The girl's dad started looking outside the village for alliances, as was the custom. That’s when the couple made their move. But instead of running away, they chose to stay, convince and win over their parents.
The elders were aghast that people from the same village are looking to marry each other, which is when other instances of youngsters running away from home, in other villages were cited. The elders soon understood that the times were indeed changing, and soon approved of the union.
The wedding was such a lavish extravaganza, lasting for a whole 8 days. Well, it was an expensive affair, but after all, their family honour was at stake. No dowry was paid, and no money exchanged between the families.

And thus was completed the first ever love marriage of Borkhalya village… 

Development is happening :) :)

PS: All you useless tharudhala boys... village youths are assaulta correcting off,  what're we doing da?? :((