Hamarey gaon mein hamara raj
By Paromita Ukil


he Union government enacted a law in Delhi that was long overdue sometime in
the middle of December. The law gave people the right to information. The
people acted upon it asking the gram panchayat for details of accounts for the
past three years. The officials refused to entertain any such application. 


The people protested, they went on a dharna, they went on a hunger strike, the
national media got activated, and there were daily reports in the newspapers
and television, there were slogans and silent marches, revolutionary songs on
empty stomachs and in near freezing temperatures. The nights were wakeful
because the peaceful protestors were sleeping in an open verandah when the
mercury had dipped below 1 degree Celsius, breaking a record of 30 years. For
the rest of the time they sat under a banyan tree on the premises of the local
block office and shivered through the sunless days. The demonstrators carried
on for 11 long days till they got an assurance from the administration that it
would look into their demands, not within a week as the law says, but within 15
days. 


For the babus of rural India what the mantris sitting in Delhi legislate is of
little relevance. They have their own set of laws and regulations with which
they squeeze the poor of every drop of blood. If the government says Dalit
widows will get a pension, the law of rural babudom says, "Pay up Rs 1500."
Similarly, in the case of old age pension meant for those above 65 and
impoverished. Since Rs 1500 is what makes the pension possible, those who do
end up getting it are often neither 65 nor impoverished. 


The government issues special ration cards for those living below the poverty
line so that they get more rice, wheat, sugar and kerosene and at a cheaper
rate, but the babus in the block offices rarely pay heed to such schemes. As a
rule they siphon off major portions of the foodgrains in collusion with the
local ration shop owner. That is why it is of vital importance who controls the
ration shop. The person is supposedly chosen through election, but the entire
process is usually eyewash. And a member of the family or of the coterie
generally gets elected. 


This is the larger reality in more or less the whole of the country. A reality
we have all more or less learnt to compromise with. And the poor rural folk
have come to accept, in reverence of those in positions of power. Nobody
questions, nobody challenges.


Since some time now, however, strange noises have been brewing in and around
Lalpur: "People’s rights…people power…wipe out corruption…hamarey gaon mein
hamara raj, our writ will run in our village." And with these hitherto unheard
of notions has been echoing a new name in the horizon—Sandeep Pandey. But who
is he? What is he? Some people said, "A Christian missionary come to take away
our dharam." Others said, "He shows our poverty to the world and gets loads of
money from foreign." God knows what the truth is.


People here, particularly of the Bharawan area (four km from Lalpur) got some
inkling of the truth when last month Sandeep sat on a dharna. It was to protest
the rampant absenteeism of the medical staff at the local government health
centre. It lasted for a day and bore quick result. It was effective. Ever since
the assigned doctor has been present on the premises and people have been
receiving health service. For the first time, people here came to understand
the meaning and power of lokshakti. They also began to figure out somewhat who
and what Sandeep Bhaiyya was. 


Two people—Munnalal Shukla and Suresh Shukla—were quicker than the rest to
understand what Sandeep’s (and NAPM’s) fight was against and the modus
operandi. They are both residents of Bharawan and loosely associated with Asha.
When, circumventing procedure, a new owner was elected to the local ration shop
the two were quick to react. On December 20, they approached the block office
asking for details of accounts of the past three years of their gram panchayat.
The block development officer directed the gram panchayat to charge them five
rupees as photocopying charges and furnish them with the details they were
seeking. That is what the newly passed Right to Information Act suggests. The
panchayat secretary, however, kept dilly-dallying and kept refusing both
Munnalal and Suresh on some pretext or the other. Taking them aside, he even
told them: "I will lose my job if I accept your application. Get me transferred
first, then do what you want." The law stipulates you have to provide the
information sought within seven days. 


Enough was enough. Munnalal and Suresh then threw in their hat. People of the
Bharawan block were going to sit on a dharna from the 11th of January, it was
declared. The tension was palpable. The undercurrents could be felt even in
sleepy old Lalpur, so far removed from the rest of the political world. The
gram pradhan came to the ashram and threatened to sit on a counter-dharna on
the campus—an empty threat, no doubt. The entire region got mobilised and
micro-level politics came into play. People got aligned according to vested
interest and political affiliations. But as the dharna progressed even those
that stayed away owing to vested interest were seen hanging around the dharna
venue, wanting to be counted. 


The basic issue was right to information, but the dharna covered many other
issues that are vital to the people—right to food, corruption, implementation
of government schemes, absence of any kind of accountability, etc. That was why
people forgot their personal politics and joined the dharna, even if it meant
going against a family member. What was interesting was the dharna was
spontaneous and spearheaded by local people. Sandeep had almost no role in
conceiving and planning it. He, in fact, joined the demonstrators a day late on
the 12th of January. But it was his presence that activated the media and shook
up the administration. He therefore cancelled his IIT50 trip to San Jose. 


Though the dharna is not conclusive as yet few good things are already emerging
from it. First, the Brahmins of the area, who viewed Asha Ashram (and Sandeep)
with scepticism for daring to preaching egalitarianism among Dalits, have now
warmed up towards us. Hopefully, they will now stop spreading rumours of
religious conversion about the Ashram. Second, Munnalal has emerged as a clear
leader of the people at the local level. And most importantly, if the Ashram
was being viewed as existing for only the people of Lalpur, that myth has been
busted. With the dharna, whose theatre was mainly Bharawan, the Ashram has now
extended its reach. In measurable terms, this can be gauged from the fact that
after the dharna one of the participants, Sher Ali from Pitauli village, has
been dropping his seven-year-old son to the morning school meant for smaller
kids. Little Salman is the first non-Hindu student in our Ashram. We welcome
him with open arms.


"Despite the dharna, it was business as usual at the Ashram"


Till as long as the dharna was on we managed with great difficulty to stick to
routine. On top of it, the weather was so inclement; the ashram’s regular
schedule threatened to fall apart. It was impossible to go on with the classes
in the semi-covered mandap. The class, therefore, moved into the kitchen for
the lessons and drawing activities. The evening classes had to be suspended,
however, because there was no sunlight to charge the solar panels—the ashram
was in darkness during the severe cold spell.


The weather is nice and warm now, but during the cold spell it was so severe
that it was impossible to keep sitting for a long time. You had to move about
to keep warm. In the afternoons the kids, therefore, got into farming activity.
After the visit to Timbaktu I was keen to start such activities with our kids.


It’s so heartening to see what children can do when left alone. They simply
love to do things, period. I just handed to them the gongura seeds which Dinesh
of Timbaktu had given me. That was enough to get them started. They found a
sizeable patch near the tomatoes that grow under the neem tree at the back of
the Ashram. They cleared it themselves and on their own divided it into small
patches for small groups. 


The kids, however, could not wait for the seeds to germinate. The day after
sowing the gongura seeds they cleared the patches all over again and sowed
bajra, jowar, sugarcane, mustard, chana, peas and what not. All in the same
small patch and one on top another. Then they dug up small canals to irrigate
their farms. It was so impressive. A complex network of small trenches dug with
sharp stones. Looking at it I realised these guys will make far better civil
engineers given the opportunity than someone who has never had any hands on
experience. 



Tailend Tidbits

Jeetendra, a school dropout and a general do-nothing, has been sitting with
me with slate and chalk in the evenings to go over his Hindi and arithmetic. He
had forgotten how to write ‘cha’ and ‘kha’ and his hand would shake when he
started to write. But gradually, it is now all coming back to him. He says he
will rejoin school from the next academic session. Let’s keep our fingers
crossed.


On the 26th a laptop came to Lalpur. Heartfelt thanks to all of you who have
a hand in making this miracle happen. Hopefully, the next report will be
composed on it.