Autobiographies
of Dalits
www.dalitindia.com
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AN UNTOUCHABLE INDIAN
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D. Gopi, Journalist 51-5-27, Media
House Gunadala, Vijayawada – 520 004 Andhra Pradesh, India. Tel: 0866 – 454647 (R) 555284 (O) E-mail: daragopi@satyam.net.in |
It was
early in the morning. The day began a few hours earlier. The State-owned bus
from the town has come to the village and returned.
It is the time that we all should
leave for the day’s work.
But, today, I was sitting
outside thinking about the day’s programme. I did not go for the daily work
because of the special work I have today. I told my-self again: “I should do it
some how.”
It is not that easy to do the job. Getting
my son a seat in the English medium school in the village is going to be the
toughest job in my life.
Why me alone? In fact, it is the
toughest job for any poor man in the village.
The English medium schools, run by the
Roman Catholic Church, have become the places of rich and influential
landlords. It is here, landlords and rich people admit their children. In other
words, the schools have become their own institutions. They are not within the
reach of a man like me.
But, I should get my son admitted into
it.
I remember the day when a Sister
visited the village along with our Parish Priest a few years ago. It was during
night we were all asked to assemble at the church.
We saw a Sister along with our Parish
Priest, sitting comfortably.
My uncles Moses, Peter, Luke, brothers
Joseph, Jacob and other village elders were waiting there. Some were chatting,
while a few were lying on the ground.
My uncles, Moses and Peter were
talking to the Priest. I did not know what they were talking and why the Parish
Priest had come at this hour.
More surprising is the presence of the
Sister. It is really a surprise to me. My another uncle, Luke and brother Jacob
were enjoying their cigar.
Looking tired they both appeared as if
they were not interested in the subject.
A few minutes after I went there and
sat with them, my uncle Moses invited our attention to the Parish Priest.
The Parish Priest, sitting in his
chair, told us that they were planning
to open a school in the village.
“It would be useful for you. You can
send your children there and give them better schooling.”
The Parish Priest said. “This Sister
has come from the town. She will be the Mother in the new school. It will be a
big school in this area.” He said.
We were wondering why the Sister has
come to our village to open the school. We thanked Lord Jesus for sending the
Sister to our village.
“God is great,” I told my-self. Now we
are clear. The Parish Priest has come here to introduce the Sister.
Some of us began praising the Sister
for choosing our village. “Good evening Sister.”
We greeted the Sister, as if the
divine force guided us all. She smiled at us in reply.
“It being a big school and coming up
in your village, we wish you should do
some thing for it. Contribute some thing for it” The Parish Priest told us.
We wonder what is there for us to do?
We can’t even buy vegetable everyday. We have no money to contribute for the
school.
The Parish Priest told us again. “I
can understand your problem. We are not asking you to contribute money. You can
contribute your labour.”
“Share the construction work. We will
bring the construction material and the engineer. You work there for no money.
It is going to be your school. It is your children who will study there.”
We felt a great relief. We don’t have
money. What we have is only our labour.
The whole world knows it. What we have
is our muscles and not money.
The hard labour that we do every day
to earn our daily bread. If that is required, we will do it. After all, it is
our school.
“Oh Priest! It is simple. We all will
work there. We will work there for our children; for their future. You have
come here for our children. How can we charge for the work we do for this
cause?.”
My uncle Moses, whom all of us in the
village respect the most, told the Parish Priest.
My uncle looked at all of us for our
approval. We all said we stand by our words and work for the school
construction.
It was a rocky land. Had to blast the
rocks and level the ground. It took nearly a year to start the foundation work.
It was so hard. We still remember the work in the initial days.
One person from each family used to
work one day. Thus we shared the work until the rocky land was turned into a
beautiful palace.
Then construction too was over with
our labour. We were surprised and amused to see the building.
“The school building is bigger than
our landlord’s house.” The Sister, by now, we call her Mother, told us they
have fixed the day for the school inauguration. A minister, local legislator,
Bishop, priest and the village landlord were the special guests at the
inaugural function. We were made to sit on the ground. The entire school campus
was decorated. Looking at it now, we feel proud. Because, it is our school as
the Parish Priest told us it was for our children.
Every guest congratulated us for
constructing such a beautiful building.
The minister wished our children and
us all success. He wanted us send our children to the school and get them all
educated. We were given some biscuits and tea at the inaugural function. “Hey!
What are you doing here? Are you not going to the school today to get the boy
admitted there?”
My wife, Mary, shouted at me and
brought me back from my past recollection.
“Stop spending time in day-dreaming.
Take the child and get him admitted in the school.”
She told me. “Ok. Don’t shout. I am
going now.”
I told her and asked for the child.
“Where is the boy?”
“I don’t know. He must have gone to
play now. I will bring him, you get ready.”
My wife told me moving out of the
house looking for the child. We have a child, Jesus. He is four years old. We
want to give him some education so that he could live a happy life.
Not like us, working day and night
just for daily bread. With lot of sufferings and struggle all through the life.
Humiliation and ill treatment by the landlord.
We don’t want our child to live the same life. He should live a happy life. A
life better than what we are now.
My wife told me to meet the Mother in
the school and request her to give admission to Jesus.
Today I wanted to go to the school
along with Jesus and request the Mother for admission.
With all these thoughts, I finished my
bath and dressed up neatly. I have a dress, which I use once in a year, on
Christmas day. It was my marriage dress and I don’t need it every day. Not even
for other festivals.
Now I am in that dress. I felt proud
as I looked into the mirror. “I am landlord now.” I told my image in the mirror
with a smile on my face. The image acknowledged me.
My wife came in along with my child.
She smiled at me as I look smart today.
My child, Jesus, too smiled at me and
said: “Daddy where are you going?”
“We are going to the school my child.”
I told him and asked him to get ready.
My wife gave him bath and dressed him
up neatly.
Now, we are ready. Before leaving the
house, we offered prayers to the Holy Mother. Sought her blessings. We, vowed
to visit the Holy Mother’s pilgrim in the town if the child gets admission in
the school.
My child, Jesus and me left the house
at the auspicious hour.
Though Christians, we believe and
practice the Hindu faith. We have adopted several of the Hindu customs like
offering coconut and tonsure as part of our prayers.
We walked through the village, while
everyone was watching us.
I felt proud because, in many of our
houses, parents guide their children to the landlord for work.
Even my father guided me to the
landlord, where I have been working for the past 15 years. But, what I get from
the landlord is peanuts.
Defying this tradition, I am guiding
my child to the school. People are very curious. Some heckled me, while a few
wished me that I should get admission in the school for Jesus.
We all wish and pray to the almighty
that Jesus should get admission in the English medium school. The school is
located a little far away from the village. It is 10 minutes walk from our
houses.
Thinking about the school, I looked
back to the past again as I walk along my child.
After inauguration, the Mother brought
some more Sisters. We were told that the Sisters stay there in the school
teaching the children.
The Mother gave employment to five
persons: a watchman, cook, gardener and two servants. But, none of them were
from our village.
Neither the Sisters nor the five
employees there speak our language. We were told that they have come from other
State.
We felt so bad about it. We thought
some of us would get these works. But we were left out. We were more surprised
and shocked when we were denied admission in the school.
My uncle Moses, tried to join his son,
George, in the school. But, the Mother refused admission because the child did
not speak a single English word.
“It is difficult for the teacher if
the children do not understand the language. This is English medium school and
your child can not speak a single word.”
The Mother told my uncle, Moses and
sent them back.
After that, none of us have tried for
admission in the school. Children from the landlords, traders and the rich
families, from our village and the neighboring villages are now in the school.
Having contributed our hard labour for
the construction of the school, we are left out. The Mother told many of us.
They are not taking children who can not understand English.
Now, I pray to the Holy Mother.
“Let my child, Jesus, get admission in
the school.” We have come to the school. As we walked in, the watchman at the
gate stopped us.
He doesn’t speak our language. We can
not understand his language. This is the reason why none of us dare to visit
the school.
But today, I had to come. I told him I
wanted to meet the Mother. I pleaded with him to send Jesus and me inside.
He got one point. The Mother I used.
He sent me in. I prayed to the almighty. Getting inside the school is great
thing for people like my son, Jesus and me.
We walked under the shade of the trees
straight to the Mother’s room.
The Mother is the school principal.
As we were walking in, a landlord from
the neighboring village came in.
He parked his motorcycle there and
walked straight to the Mother’s room.
The landlord was there for an hour and
we waited outside admiring the big buildings, the tall trees and the green
garden.
After all, it was my villagers and me,
who have developed this rocky land
to a beautiful palace today.
The sweet memories and the cool
atmosphere landed us into sleep on the floor in front of the Mother’s room.
The Mother might have come out to see
off the landlord and found us sleeping on the floor.
She might have also called the
watchman and must have shouted at him for
allowing my child, Jesus and me.
The watchman banged me and woke me up.
The Mother and the watchman shouted at
me for sleeping.
I apologized to the Mother and kneeled
down there, seeking admission to my Jesus.
She looked at Jesus and said: “No I
can’t give admission for this boy.”
Well, it was an expected reply from
the Mother.
I caught hold of the Mother’s feet.
“Mother, please don’t say so. I beg
you. Please admit my child, Jesus in the school.”
“It is not possible. Can’t you
understand?.”
The Mother shouted at me trying to
walk into her room.
With tears rolling down in my eyes, I
pulled down my child Jesus and made him to touch the Mother’s feet.
“Mother, please take this child. You
said the school was for us.”
I tried to recall her promise to the
village at the time of construction of the school.
“Yes, I said so. But it is not
possible now. Can you pay the school fee?
Can you buy him uniform? Can you teach
him at home? Can he read and write English? This is English medium school. You
understand?.” The Mother shouted at me.
“We can’t give admissions to people
who can’t fulfill these things.” The Mother walked in, leaving my Jesus and me
on the floor.
She pressed a button. The watchman
appeared there.
I could not understand what were
happening to me and my Jesus.
The watchman held my collar and
dragged me towards the gate. He pushed me out of the gate.
I fell on the ground outside the
school gate. I heard my son crying from inside.
“Please don’t beat my Jesus. Leave him
away. I don’t want admission.
Please don’t kill my Jesus.”
I too cried with folded hands.
The watchman let my Jesus come out of
the school campus.
They shattered my dreams.
Jesus was denied admission in the
English medium school.
I walked back home with dirt on my
dress and child crying.
The villagers looked at us as we walk
back. I can guess what they are going to talk about me.
I have no option but to guide my child
to the landlord.
“God why have you given us this life?”
Holding my child, I ran into the house
and fell at the Holy Mother’s portrait with tears rolling down.
“Mother have mercy on us. We are your
children and Jesus is your
child.”
I prayed and cried. The entire family
cried there. But no answer. The Holy Mother too is hapless.
I am on my way to the
landlord’s home from his fields.
After heavy work, I feel
tiered. I want to go home early today and take rest.
My wife, Mary, is in the family way.
She stopped working. The entire family is living on my wages.
In a day or two, a new member will
join the family, when Mary delivers the baby.
I thought of sending Mary to her
parents for delivery. But, they are too poor and there is no hospital. So I
dropped the idea and kept her here.
We have a dispensary at the Parish
Priest’s house. There are two Sisters who take care of it and give us medicine.
This dispensary is enough to take care
of my Mary at the time of her delivery.
Thoughts of Mary and the new baby
brought smile on my face. It is wonderful to think about the baby inside.
Jesus is my first child. This would be
the second one.
I don’t know what baby would it be. We
are waiting for girl. It would be better if it were a girl. She can play with
her brother Jesus.
Doesn’t matter even if it is a boy.
This is enough. Two children are enough.
With these sweet thoughts I reached my
landlord’s home. Cleaned the cattle shed. Filled the water tank.
As I was working in the cattle shed,
landlord’s wife called me inside. She asked me to go to the shop and bring some
vegetables for the evening.
“Shit!”
I told my-self and took a bag and the
money to buy the vegetables.
I wanted to go home early today to see
my Mary. Play some time with Jesus there.
I must also take some vegetables home.
I don’t have money right now. I have to go home, look for some money and come
back to the village.
Though we have about 100 families in
our hamlet, there is no shop. We have to come to the main village where the
landlords and the rich live.
I brought some vegetables and handed
over them to the landlord’s wife in the kitchen room.
I could not understand one thing.
These people, the rich and landlords, won’t touch me because we are untouchable.
But, they drink the water I bring for
them. They cook the rice I produce in their field. They eat the vegetables I
brought for them. But, they won’t touch me.
I don’t know what to call it. It is
same in many villages. The rich and landlords call us untouchables. But they
take every thing what we give them.
I said bye to my landlord’s wife and
walked towards my house in the hamlet.
I am surprised. It is locked. No one
is there. I wonder where has my Mary gone?
I saw my grand mom coming towards my house.
She told me: “Mary had pains this
evening. Moses took her to the dispensary.”
I am shocked again. Worried more.
I just ran towards the dispensary,
praying to the almighty.
“God save my Mary.”
My eyes are wet. Tears started rolling
out of my eyes.
I reached the dispensary. There was no
sign of Mary or Moses.
I knocked at the door. One Sister came
out. I asked her about Mary.
She told me, Moses took her to the
town hospital by cart, as there were no medicine in the dispensary.
I cursed myself. I returned to the
house.
Took my bicycle to go to the town
hospital. It is 20 km. I peddled the bicycle with great speed, praying to the
God.
I am not sure whether they have
reached the town hospital or on the way. I forgot to ask the Sister at what
time they left the dispensary.
If it was not too late, I must meet
them on the way.
“Yes, I should meet them before they
reach the town hospital.” I told my-self.
I am peddling the old bicycle with
great difficulty.
Mary’s parents gave this bicycle to me
at the time of marriage as dowry. I use it only to take Mary to the town.
“Yes, I could see the cart going
towards the town.”
I increased the speed of my bicycle to
reach them. I am worried how my Mary is now. I want to see her now.
“Oh God! Save my Mary.”
I prayed to the almighty.
I reached the cart and looked at Mary.
She is screaming with pains. No one can stop this to her. We can only console
her.
My son, Jesus is sitting in the cart,
with a sad face not able to understand what was happening to his mother.
My uncle, Moses is walking in front of
the cart, leading bullock safe on the road.
I called my son to come down and take
the bicycle.
Jesus got down from the cart and took
the bicycle from me.
I jumped into the cart and touched my
Mary’s head. She opened her eyes only then and looked at me. I can see some
relief in her now.
The cart entered the town. It would be
another five minutes travel by the cart to reach the government hospital.
I began praying to God. I want my
Mary, rescued from the trouble.
We reached the hospital.
Thank God! The gate is open. They have
not yet locked it. “God is great!” I told my-self.
Uncle Moses and me brought Mary down
from the cart. We carried her straight into the hospital.
The watchman stopped us there and
asked us where we were taking the woman.
“We are taking my wife to a woman
doctor.”
I told the watchman. I think he
understood what I said. He showed us a room at the end of the corridor.
We carried Mary there. The room is
closed and another watchman is sleeping in his chair at the door.
I woke him up and asked him to open
the door.
The watchman opened his eyes. Looked
at me first, then my wife and uncle. He closed his eyes again, without opening
the door.
I woke him up again.
Surprise! He stretched his hand
towards me even without opening his eyes.
I did not understand what he was doing
and what his intention was. But uncle told me to put some currency note in the
watchman’s hand.
“God! I did not bring any money. I
came running but could not think of money. What to do?”
“Take this.” Uncle told the watchman
by placing a currency note in his hand.
It was only then that the watchman
opened his eyes and the door too. He directed us to a corner on the right side
of the room, where two nurses are sitting and chatting.
We walked straight there along with
Mary. But the nurses did not look at us.
“Madam!” I called them. But they did
not respond. I walked to them and wished them with folded hands.
The nurses stared at me and raised
their eyebrows meaning: “What?”
I showed my wife to them. After all,
nurses are also women and they can understand the difficulty of labour pains.
But, I was proved wrong. The nurses
did not respond to my request.
Mary started screaming on the top of
her voice. The two nurses looked at her again and asked me to wait outside the
room for the doctor to come.
“Can’t you understand what I said?”
One of them shouted at me and asked me
to go out and wait for the doctor.
I could not stop my tears.
“Shit! They are not women.”
I told my-self again and again cursing
them and praying to the God to save my Mary.
“I don’t want anything on this earth.
I could not put my son, Jesus in the school. If I could not save my Mary now,
what for I am?”
As I was talking to myself, one of the
nurses came and took my Mary to the bed there.
I did not understand what happened for
a moment. But my uncle told me that he had given her some money. It worked and
my Mary got admitted in the hospital. She is on the bed now.
It took a few minutes for the doctor
to come. He did some testing sort on Mary and told some thing to the nurses
there and left.
The nurses returned to my uncle and
told him some thing.
My uncle, Moses, came back to me and
told me that Mary has to be operated. “Cesarean.” They called it. I did not
understand any thing. My uncle told me
that we have to pay Rs 1,000 to the
doctor and the nurses.
“It is unjust. This is government
hospital and we need not pay.”
I told him with the little knowledge
that I have about the government services in the hospitals.
But, he asked me to keep quite. He
walked straight to the nurses and spoke to them. They took him out. Must be to
the doctor. I don’t know exactly.
I walked to Mary’s bed. She is
screaming and crying. I tried to console her and sat on the floor next to her bed
holding her hand.
I told her everything would be all
right and uncle Moses was taking care of the things in the hospital.
Two hours later, my uncle returned
with the nurse and doctor. They shifted Mary on to the stretcher and moved her
to the operation theatre.
Within minutes, a nurse came out and
asked us for a Ceylon bottle in another five minutes. It was next to impossible
for us to buy one bottle.
The money that my uncle brought with
him must have been over by now. Any further expenditure means, it is mere death
for us.
My uncle looked into his pocket and
could trace Rs 15. He gave me that and asked me to get one bottle from the
medical shop outside the hospital.
I rushed to the shop for a bottle. I
gave him the money, Rs 15, for the bottle.
The boy there laughed at me and said
it costs more. I have no money. What to do now?
I begged him to give me one with the
money that I have on my hand. I promised to pay back the amount by evening. I
cried before him at the shop. It was of no use. He refused to give me one
bottle.
As I was thinking, my child, Jesus
came to me. I did not even recognise the boy following me till now.
“Yes, I got the money.” I told my-self
and asked Jesus to bring that bicycle here.
I told the medical shop boy to take my
bicycle and give me a bottle. It took almost 30 to 40 minutes for me to get a
bottle.
I did not even ask the druggist to
return the remaining money for the bicycle.
I just ran into the hospital without
even thinking about my child, Jesus.
It was nearly more than six hours that
Mary began suffering. In another hour or so, she would be relieved of all these
pains. We would have a new child in the family.
I saw my uncle standing outside the
operation theatre. I gave him the bottle. He looked upset.
“What were you doing till now? The
have been asking for the bottle.”
He asked me and looked at the door. We
spent another 15 minutes there waiting for the nurses to come out for the
bottle.
A few minutes later, the door was
opened and the doctor came out first. The two nurses followed him. They did not
look at me or ask for the bottle. They called the compounder there and told him
something.
The compounder went into the operation
theatre and brought back Mary on the stretcher.
I saw her. For a moment, I thought she
died. I prayed to the God, the almighty to save Mary and her newborn child.
But, God did not listen to my prayers.
Uncle Moses walked to me and held my
shoulders tight expressing his love for my family and me. Then, he told me the
saddest news that I could ever hear.
that we have to pay Rs 1,000 to the
doctor and the nurses.
“It is unjust. This is government
hospital and we need not pay.”
I told him with the little knowledge
that I have about the government services in the hospitals.
But, he asked me to keep quite. He
walked straight to the nurses and spoke to them. They took him out. Must be to
the doctor. I don’t know exactly.
I walked to Mary’s bed. She is
screaming and crying. I tried to console her and sat on the floor next to her
bed holding her hand.
I told her everything would be all
right and uncle Moses was taking care of the things in the hospital.
Two hours later, my uncle returned
with the nurse and doctor. They shifted Mary on to the stretcher and moved her
to the operation theatre.
Within minutes, a nurse came out and
asked us for a Ceylon bottle in another five minutes. It was next to impossible
for us to buy one bottle.
The money that my uncle brought with
him must have been over by now. Any further expenditure means, it is mere death
for us.
My uncle looked into his pocket and
could trace Rs 15. He gave me that and asked me to get one bottle from the
medical shop outside the hospital.
I rushed to the shop for a bottle. I
gave him the money, Rs 15, for the bottle.
The boy there laughed at me and said
it costs more. I have no money. What to do now?
I begged him to give me one with the
money that I have on my hand. I promised to pay back the amount by evening. I
cried before him at the shop. It was of no use. He refused to give me one bottle.
As I was thinking, my child, Jesus
came to me. I did not even recognise the boy following me till now.
“Yes, I got the money.” I told my-self
and asked Jesus to bring that bicycle here.
I told the medical shop boy to take my
bicycle and give me a bottle. It took almost 30 to 40 minutes for me to get a
bottle.
I did not even ask the druggist to
return the remaining money for the bicycle.
I just ran into the hospital without
even thinking about my child, Jesus.
It was nearly more than six hours that
Mary began suffering. In another hour or so, she would be relieved of all these
pains. We would have a new child in the family.
I saw my uncle standing outside the
operation theatre. I gave him the bottle. He looked upset.
“What were you doing till now? The
have been asking for the bottle.”
He asked me and looked at the door. We
spent another 15 minutes there waiting for the nurses to come out for the
bottle.
A few minutes later, the door was
opened and the doctor came out first. The two nurses followed him. They did not
look at me or ask for the bottle. They called the compounder there and told him
something.
The compounder went into the operation
theatre and brought back Mary on the stretcher.
I saw her. For a moment, I thought she
died. I prayed to the God, the almighty to save Mary and her newborn child.
But, God did not listen to my prayers.
Uncle Moses walked to me and held my
shoulders tight expressing his love for my family and me. Then, he told me the
saddest news that I could ever hear.
I was told that the baby died. I
remained voiceless for a few minutes. I did not know how to respond and what to
do.
My uncle was holding my arms. He told
me: “Joseph, be brave.”
I don’t know what to do with the
bottle in my hands. I also don’t know what to tell my Mary and my child, Jesus.
We took her back to our cart, parked
outside the hospital.
I did not speak. My uncle also did not
speak anything. We started to our village.
I looked at Mary sleeping on the cart.
I looked at the boy, Jesus sitting next to her on the cart. I looked at my
uncle, Moses, who was guiding the bullock.
I looked at the bottle in my hand and
the boy at the medical shop, the bicycle parked there.
I threw the bottle into the drainage
in silence and walked behind the cart in grief.
“God, why do you do this? Can’t we have a new baby? Even after so
much of trouble?”
“Yes why should I have a new baby when
I could not give minimum education for the child I already have? I could not
get admission in the school for Jesus and had to return home in silence.”
“God, why this life for us?”
I was working in my landlord’s fields
when my son, Jesus came to me. I wondered why Jesus had come here. For a
moment, my heartbeat stopped because I thought about my wife, Mary.
Mary is still unwell after the sad
experience and suffering that she had at the government hospital.
Thinking about Mary’s health, I asked
Jesus why he had come there.
"Uncle Lazarus had come. He wants
to talk to you it seems." Jesus told me.
"Let him wait at home till
evening. I will come after the work." I told him.
But Jesus said: "No, uncle wanted
you come home soon. He has to go back it seems."
"Ok. You go home. I will inform
the landlord and come."
I told my Jesus. He left for home.
I went to my landlord told him about
Lazarus visit and took permission to go home now.
Lazarus is Mary’s elder brother. He is
the only surviving person in Mary’s parents’ family. Lazarus two brothers, one
sister and his parents died in the 1991 floods to River Krishna.
Mary was fortunate. I married her
one-month before the floods and Lazarus, with his wife, Margaret and three-year
old son, Francis, were here at my home because of which reason, they survived
from the devastating floods.
A year later or so, Lazarus put up a
house in the same village and settled. My wife, Mary and me have asked him to
dispose the house-site there and come to our village. But he did not come and
remained there.
He had admitted his son, Francis, in
the boarding school in the town. I don’t know what class he is in now.
After the Mother rejected admission to
my son in our village school, I was thinking of putting Jesus in the boarding
school with Francis. I should ask him now whether it is possible to put him now
or we have to wait for some more time.
Thinking like this, I reached home.
Lazarus was sitting on the cat, while
Francis was there sitting with my wife and crying.
"Hey! How are you Francis? What
are you doing there with your aunt?" I asked him sitting on the cot next
to Lazarus.
Neither Lazarus nor Francis responded
to me. They looked more serious and were not talking anything. Even my wife,
Mary too is silent.
I saw my son, Jesus playing alone.
"Yes, tell me Lazarus, what made
you and your son come here?"
I asked Lazarus. He did not respond.
I looked at Francis and asked him why
he was crying.
"When did you come for
holidays?" I asked Francis.
As we were talking, my uncles Moses,
Peter, Francis and my neighbours walked in to see and greet Lazarus.
Lazarus had not come to my place for
the past three years. So they all came to wish him and also see the child,
Francis.
With everyone asking him the reason
for his weeping, he looked hesitating to tell.
Lazarus told me that Francis did the
same at home and so he brought him here hoping that he would reveal to Mary.
It was then, Mary intervened and asked
him the reason for his cry. She touched his head sweetly and asked him.
Francis started speaking. We all were
ready to listen to him.
"I don’t want to go to the
hostel." He said, wiping his tears.
"Why? What happened?" Mary
asked him.
"Our warden (a priest) is bad. He
beats us every day for every thing. Some times without reason."
"No one will beat you without
reason. You fellows must have did some thing there in the hostel."
Uncle Moses said trying to find fault
with the boy.
"No. We did nothing. He beats us
badly every time."
"True. In the hostel, the wardens
beat the children for nothing or for simple mistakes." My aunt said
supporting Francis.
She continued: "You know Shanthi,
my grand daughter. She is now in the hostel. She was badly beaten once by her
warden sister."
"Who will beat her without
reason? She must have done something." Moses said.
But, my aunt turned him down and said:
"No, she did nothing. She was late in the morning from the bed. For that
small mistake, the warden made her kneel down for 30 minutes and made her
roommate ring the bell near Shanthi’s ear. It was too hard and Shanthi could
not bear with the bell’s sound. She could not stand on her knees for such a long
time and fell unconscious."
Francis got some support to his
argument. He began talking about his bad experience in the hostel that made him
run away from the rest of the boys.
"Our warden took us all once for
a movie in the town. After the movie, my friend and me missed the way in the
traffic and went to the hostel very late. The gate was locked and we had to
jump over it and go inside."
"But, our warden noticed us and
called us. I told him that we missed the way and had to trouble in finding the
way back to the hostel. My friend also said the same because it was what had
happened."
"Our warden sent me away and
asked my friend stay back."
"I don’t know what happened
then."
Our warden and my friend came into the
study room. He asked all the students to stop for awhile. He then called me to
his side and asked my friend and me stand on our knees. He then called all the
boys there and asked them all to give a slap on our back.
As the students were hesitating, the
warden told them:
"If you don’t do it now, you will
never go out. I will not allow anyone of you to go out." He said and
forced them all to beat us.
The boys started beating us. All 90
boys gave us a slap on our back. It was painful and could not bear it.
Francis stopped and cried.
"Why did your warden do
that?" Moses uncle asked Francis.
"After I left the warden’s room,
he asked my friend to confess the crime. He said we both went for another movie
and came late. Though my friend denied it, he forced him to accept it."
"You can’t bluff me
anymore." The warden told my friend promising amnesty. Fearing punishment,
my friend confessed the wrong crime only to satisfy the warden. But it turned
against us and we were punished."
"He did not leave us there. The
next day, our warden called both of us to his room. He got my friend and me
tonsured. It was horrifying."
"The warden asked us to go home
and bring our parents."
"My friend, fearing second
punishment from parents, jumped into the canal on our way to the bus station. I
think he died. I never saw him come out of the canal water. I got scared."
"If you force me back to the
hostel, I will do the same."
Francis said looking at us and holding
his sister, Mary’s hands tight in fear.
"This is worst. Why should these
wardens behave like this?" I yelled.
"They don’t have children and
families behind them. They don’t know how difficult is to handle children. They
only know the discipline and they love the gardens and pets that they
grow."
Moses uncle said.
"It is not that every priest is
like that. But, most of them behave like that. They attach more love with
animals and garden and not people. They love their pets more than anyone on the
earth."
My uncle said consoling us.
I asked Francis: "What do you
want to do now?"
"I will not go back to the
hostel. I will join the government hostel." He said.
We thought that would be better and
decided to shift the boy from the boarding to the government hostel.
As we were talking, Joshua walked in.
He is a distant relative of mine and lives in a village, which is 50 km away
from my village.
Mary got up and offered him a glass of
water.
He looked sorrowful. He looked at
Francis and broke down.
We were all shocked. We wonder what
had happened to him.
I walked to him and wrapped my hand
over his back consoling and asked him what had happened.
Wiping his tears, Joshua said:
"Everything is over. Why should I
live? The hostel killed my child." He said.
"What?" I didn’t get him.
"You know my child, Abraham,
died."
"Where"
"In the town canal. He is of the
same age of this boy." He said looking at Francis.
"Why did he go there?"
"He was in the boarding."
"One of the boys from the
boarding came to us and told us about the death of my Abraham."
"They told us that the boy jumped
into the canal and died. But we wonder why did he go to the canal from the
boarding. They said the boy went out for haircut and must have slipped into the
canal."
"I saw the body at the hospital.
He shaved off his head. I don’t know why he did that."
Joshua said breaking down with tears
again.
Now, we got the link. Abraham is the
boy about whom Francis was telling a few minutes before.
I turned to Francis and asked him:
"Is that Abraham, who was
punished along with you in the boarding?"
He said "yes."
Holding Joshua tight and I tried to
console him.
"The boy did not go for haircut
and slipped into the canal."
Joshua looked at me in surprise.
I said: "He died after jumping
into the canal. Francis is witness to that. It was the warden who forced your
child jump into water and end his life."
I told Joshua the entire story that
Francis had told us just now.
Joshua broke down again. I could not
console him. There were no words left with me to console him.
Scared at the Joshua’s weeping,
Francis ran to his father, Lazarus and held him tight in fear.
"What if our schools and hostels
turn against us like this? We have no option but to depend on the government,
which means again the landlords and politicians. If these institutions turn
against like this, why should we have them at all? Where is the need for their
survival? Whom are they serving?"
I asked myself. There is no answer. I
could not even visualize any answer to these questions.
We want our children to be alive,
whether educated or not.
They can work along with us in the
paddy fields and live instead of ending life.
I had only one answer to all these
questions:
"God is there. He will correct
them all."
I told Lazarus not to beat Francis
anymore, as he is already scared. I also told him that we could join the boy in
the government hostel.
I saw shining in the boy’s eyes. He is
happy because he need not go back to the boarding and end up in jumping in any
canal.
We have a regular visitor to our
village. We love him the most, because he loves us the same.
He is there in every need of ours and
in every crisis.
He works in a college in the town. He
used to come here with some students during holidays and spend time with us. He
used to work for us with the students.
He has been there for very long
period. He is friendly with us and even eats in our houses. He doesn’t ask for
any special dishes. He eats whatever is cooked at home.
We see Jesus in him and in his love
for us. He plays with us and spends time with us once in awhile.
One particular thing in John is that
he doesn’t like us call him Father.
"We are all human beings and we
are all equals." He says.
According to him we should not call
anyone Father because we have only one father that is God almighty.
It seems Jesus said that we should not
call others as Father. So, he doesn’t allow us call him Father. We just call
him by name ¾ John.
It was most uncomfortable for us to
call him by name. We were hesitating to call him by name in the beginning. But,
he never liked it. He forced us to call him by name.
After a few years, we are used to call
him by name and today we love calling him John. He is our family member.
Everyone in the village consider him as their family member.
It is how he became one among us, a
member of the village.
Today he came to the village. He came
straight to my house and sat on the cot.
I greeted him, while Mary offered him
a glass of water.
"How are you Mary?"
He asked her giving back the tumbler.
"Better."
She replied and went in side.
He then asked about Jesus and me.
I told him what had happened to Jesus
and my attempt to get admission in the school.
"Don’t worry. You can get him
admitted in the government hostel."
He said consoling me.
He also asked me about Mary and
inquired about her health.
He is not aware of what had happened
to her last month. He was not here for the last five months.
He is even not aware of our bitter
experience that we had in the hospital and the tragic death of the newborn
baby.
I told him about the incident and our
encounter with the government hospital and the money that I owe to my uncle,
Moses.
I can see tears in John’s eyes. The
story moved him so much.
There was absolute silence for about
10 minutes and then he said:
"Let us forget about this. Start
a new life."
"That’s what I have been telling
Mary all these days John. But she is not able to digest the horrible
incident." I told him.
He accepted it and said:
"It is difficult for women to
digest it. We have to give them the moral support to overcome the
sadness."
Jacob, my brother-in-law in the
village, came to greet John.
"Hey Jacob! How are you?"
John greeted him.
"I am fine. How about you?"
"I am alright. Where are you
coming from?"
"From fields! Where else I
go?"
He came and sat on the cot next to
John. He borrowed a cigarette from John and started smoking.
We feel John as one among us. We don’t
have any reservations in give-and-take relations.
With us, he feels at home and with
him, we take more freedom. He has always been a good friend, guide and
philosopher to us.
"How is your work?"
John asked Jacob.
"Nothing new. It is same. Working
in the fields and again at home. There is no increase in pay. But there is a
lot of increase in the workload."
"My landlord purchased a couple
of she buffaloes. Now he has all together five buffaloes giving milk everyday.
I have to take the milk to the collection point. I make two trips there
everyday. This is additional work."
Jacob told him about his new job.
"When you are doing more work,
why don’t you ask for a hike?"
John asked him, patting him gently on
his back.
"God! The sky will fall down. We
can’t ask the master for hike. We have to work or get out."
"Then why don’t you quit?"
"It is not possible. Because, my
family owes him so much, even my son can’t change the master."
"Why did your family take that
much money from the landlord?"
"My father took that for his
marriage. He died after three years. I could not work till I reached eight
years. So, interest on the loan accumulated and all that we owe him. That is
what the landlord told us."
"Though working there, I take two
bags of paddy every year and leave him another two bags towards repayment of
the loan."
"I believe my son would have to
work throughout his life to clear it."
Jacob said looking dejected.
It is true. Most of us live like that.
John says it is nothing but exploitation. But the masters say that it was our
duty.
When we think as what John says we
begin to feel it is exploitation and tempted to question him because it is our
right. But, when we think as the landlord says, we feel it is our duty to clear
the debt.
Even today we are not sure who is
right and who is wrong.
This confusion is there in almost all
of us in the village. But, life goes like that and the masters make us work
hard unquestioned.
This is the life in every village in
the country for most of us, the untouchables.
We are born to work for the masters
and accept the humiliation, ill treatment, bear with the cursing and accept
life as it is.
It is here that the masters tell us
that ‘Jesus wanted His followers to show the other cheek.’
We are beaten up, our houses burnt and
our women raped. We can not question any of these. It is the life that god has
given us and we have to accept it with a smile.
"Why this rule does not apply to
the masters?"
"Because they are blessed by the
god."
This is what the master — be it the
landlords or the priests — teach us every day.
But John has a different answer to
this.
He says, according to Jesus,
"Blessed are the poor!" It was for the poor that Jesus had come,
lived and died on the cross.
"Jesus lived and died for the
poor" says John.
If that were to be believed, why is
that there is no change in our lives.
John says, "it is because of the
powers that be."
It is here, we fail to understand. We
wonder why Jesus failed to come to our rescue.
"Don’t say that they don’t have
problems. Priests or Bishops they all have problems which they can’t tell
us."
John says. Life is so mechanical for
them. They suffer the loneliness many a time. They hardly find any one to share
their feelings.
This suffering is not there in our
lives. We have the families and our children to share our feelings and
problems.
Most of them are interpersonal and
talk to themselves. We are intra personal and we have so many around us to talk
and spend time for us in need.
"We love people, they love pets;
we love making friends and they love making money; we adjust with the time and
they are strict with the time. These are the basic differences that we have
with them" is what John says about the priests and the masters.
"This is not common with every
one here. But, most of them are like this," he said not trying to blame
everyone.
It must be true, because he is an
inside person. He knows things better than us from outside.
But, John has some difference. Like
many of us, he loves people and not pets. He is for poor and certainly not for
the rich. This is the reason why he is here.
Whenever we see him, we see Jesus in
him and wish that everyone, the rich and the religious, should be like John to
us.
But, I believe that it is very difficult
to find such people around. It is not that such people are not there among the
rich and religious. But, they are rare species from that category. John is one
such rare specie, whom we love more.
"Ok Jacob. Please cook some thing
for me tonight. I will come to your home for dinner"
Jacob accepted it with smiling face.
My people love to have John with them
for lunch or supper. Because, he eats whatever is cooked and doesn’t need to
make any special arrangements.
Most of us have guests once in awhile
and we cook non-vegetarian food occasionally.
Some treat John as their guest, while
some treat him as a family member offer whatever is available.
This time, John has come to stay for
more than a week. We spend this week sharing so many things with John.
We sit with him like students sitting
in the classroom in front of the teacher. We learn so many things and try to
understand the society. There will be all types of discussions with him.
Our subjects for discussion would
mostly be around religion, social systems and exploitation of the poor.
I wish to discuss with him my
experiences in the school and hospital and seek his comment on that.
More important is that I should make
sure that Jesus is joined in some school. This is my dream and I want to see my
child in the school.
Jesus would be the first child to go
to any school in our family. My great grand parents, grand parents and parents
were all illiterates.
I must make my Jesus read and write
what the landlord had written in the documents and took my thumb impression at
the time of my marriage.
The landlord took my thumb impressions
on two papers and gave me some money for the marriage.
I do not know what exactly is written
in those documents. I wish my Jesus should read them and tell me. I may not
make him the district collector. But, I wish that he should learn reading and
writing at least to read those documents with the landlord.
I am confident that John would help me
put my child in some school.
Of course, he had already promised to
get admission for Jesus in the government hostel.
I must take a word from John during
his stay in the village.
This is what my wife, Mary, has been
telling me.
Jesus should learn to read what
landlord has written in the documents.
I began to suspect my landlord only
when John told me how these landlords cheat labourers.
I can also feel it because my landlord
is making me work for him alone because my father had taken some money from him
promising repayment through labour.
I became a bonded labour with the
landlord who showed me a document with my father’s thumb impression. He said it
was my father’s thumb impression. God only knows it.
It has the signatures of the two
elders in the village as witness to the deal.
Having worked for more than 15 years,
I am not worried to work there for another 15 to 20 years. But, my child should
not be made victim here.
What if the landlord produces the
document and asks my child to work in his fields?
This question haunts me every time
when I think of my child.
Particularly, when I am at work in the
fields and when the landlord asks me about the child.
He has already asked me twice about
what my child was doing and what I was planning for the child.
Every time I told him that he is still
young and I have plans to send him to the school.
I suspect some thing wrong and the
landlord has set his eyes on the child.
I should send my child away from the
reach of the landlord.
This is my duty and dream. A wish I
must fulfill.
One day, we were sitting in the
village to discuss some important thing. John had asked us to attend this
meeting without fail. He wanted all men and women to be preset at the meeting.
This must be some important thing.
Otherwise, he would not have asked women also to be present.
There are very rare occasions, when
John invited women also to participate in the discussions. He usually does not
trouble women by asking them to sit in the discussions. But he advises us to
convey the discussions to the women at home.
Today, he asked all of us to be
present at the discussions.
All of us have come here to listen to
what John would say.
As every one started coming in, some
of the elders, who had heavy supper, began smoking cigars.
The air there was thick with the cigar
smoke.
A little away from us, women sat
chatting about their family problems.
John sat on a mat. My uncles Moses and
Peter flanked him on the mat.
When everyone came, John started
speaking aloud:
"I am sure, most of you are
unaware of the incidents that have taken place in the recent past in northern
States. Two Nuns were raped, two priests were killed and one church was
demolished."
"The government says it was
committed to punish the culprits in all these incidents. But, nowhere an
accused was nabbed so far."
The newspapers bring us all these
incidents. Every day there is a report on rape of a Nun, attack on a priest or
church. As it appears, there is no action from the government."
"The Opposition and our Church
leadership blame the Hindu fundamental forces for these incidents. They charge
these fundamental forces responsible for these incidents. Which means that the
government and the Opposition know who the culprits are."
"But, there is no initiative from
the government to expose the culprits. The culprits who continue the brutal
acts against Christian and Muslim minorities are taking this situation as an
advantage."
"Having failed to pressurize the
government on protection to the Minorities, particularly the missionaries, the
Church leadership had called for a national strike for one day on November 16th.
We were all asked to participate in the strike in support of the Nuns, who were
raped and the priests who were attacked and looted."
"We should make this national
strike a success to tell the communal forces that they can’t go on victimizing
the Christians. This would also make clear our strong feelings to the
government against its indifferent attitude in punishing the guilty."
John said describing some of the
incidents where Nuns were kidnapped from the bus stops and were raped. He
sought our cooperation in making the national strike a success.
The Church leadership had already
issued circulars to all our educational institutions to remain closed on the
day in support of the national bandh call.
Uncle Moses, looked at every one
around and said:
"John, we have no problem to join
the national strike. We condemn it and wish that such things should not happen
to any one, why only the Nuns?"
"Stop beating around. Tell us
what you think about this and tell us whether we should join the strike or
not"
Peter asked Moses uncle.
"Let me tell you what I feel
about the incident." Moses replied.
John also advised us not to interfere
and disturb the speakers.
Resuming his speech, Moses said:
"Look, rape of Nuns and attack on
priests is not a small thing. We should all condemn it. But, there is something
fishy behind the Church leadership’s call for national strike."
"What is that you suspect in the
strike call?" John asked him.
"This is not my word. This
morning my wife’s brother came here from the town. He told me this."
"What is that?"
"Why should the Church leaders
react only when Nuns are raped? Why not they react when our women were raped?
Our houses were burnt and our men were butchered?"
"Where did it happen?"
"It happened at Karamchedu,
Pippara, Kanchikacharla, Peda Nallakalva, Tsundur and every where and every
day. Who were the victims in all these cases? Were they not Christians? Why the
Church leaders have failed to condemn any of these cases and why are they now
calling for national strike? Does it mean that only Nuns and priests are
Christians and others like us are not?"
Question after question, he raised so
many. He looked more serious. It is, perhaps for the first time, I am watching
him talk more serious. I never saw him in the past.
I looked at John. He took a long
breath and lighted a cigarette.
"Moses, what you or your
brother-in-law said is true. Several untouchable Christians were butchered in
all these places and their women raped and houses burnt. Never, in the past, the
Church leadership condemned any of these incidents."
"Then why should we condemn it
now and join the national strike?"
"Moses, let me complete my
argument." John said and he continued:
"I agree with you that Church had
not responded to any of these incidents. It is also true that the Church is
reacting now. You should understand one thing. The Church leadership had began
taking political decisions. This is what we have been looking forward from the
Church all these years. Let us support it now and ask it to respond to our
problems too."
John said looking at everyone there.
I felt what John says was reasonable.
It is natural that people react only when their interests were harmed. Once
they come out open, we can make them respond to the cause of every Christian.
But Moses uncle and some others seem
to have different opinion.
Jacob said:
"John if you want us to join the
strike, we will join. But I doubt whether it makes any impact. One more thing
is why should we think about people who never bothered to protect us."
"If you don’t respond because
they did not respond for you, in what way you are different from them? There
should be some beginning and I wish we should begin it now and right
here."
"Why should we begin it for them?
And why not they do that for us?"
Jacob asked pointing his finger at
John.
"As things appear, we are born
for others and not for us. Let us now react to the cause of the Church and
expect the Church respond to our problems"
John said trying to pacify every one
there.
We felt what John said was reasonable.
But a question flashed in my mind:
"Yes, as John said, we responded
to the request of the Church to construct a school building in our village.
What happened later? Why did not I get admission for my son in the school? Why
is the Church not responded to my plea for my child?"
There was absolute silence. People
there are thinking seriously about the problem.
It looks most of us are prepared for
what John says. We ask him so many questions to get things clarified. It does
not mean that we are opposed to his ideas and proposals.
The women, though were not consulted
by any of us on the issue, were found discussing the merits and demerits of it.
I saw Moses’ brother-in-law coming
there. He introduced himself to John and all of us as "Mathew."
He said:
"I am glad at least now you
people began thinking beyond your lives. The realities of our lives in this
country are same and even worst. You never reacted when our fellow untouchable
Christians were butchered and their houses burnt. I am not saying that no
untouchable Christian reacted to those incidents. There were many that came to
the rescue and support of the victims, except you."
He took a small breath and continued:
"We have been fighting for equal
rights for us both within the Church and outside. This is one of the hundreds
of our villages, which had never joined any of our struggles. I wish at least
now, because of people like John, you have opened your eyes to the world."
"I tell you a small incident that
took place in Pedanalla Kaluva village of Prakasam district a few months ago.
The landlord’s son seduced one of our girls in the village. He took her to the
forest, enjoyed her along with his friends by force and hanged her to
death."
"After nearly a fortnight, we
found her body. We know it was not a suicide but a clear death. There was no
one to take our view. The police, the officers and the Press declared that the
death was suicide and not homicide."
"There are so many girls and
women from among us, who are victimized like this. But, not even in a single
incident that the Nuns, leave alone the priests and the Church, have responded.
We pleaded with every one, we have given an open call to the Church leaders and
the Nuns, in particular, to condemn the incident and mount pressure on the
government to expose the guilty."
"Now, the same Nuns and the
Church leaders are asking us to condemn the rape of a Nun and want us join the
national strike. Is there any guarantee that these Nuns and priests condemn
similar attacks on us and organize strike in future?"
"Ok. What do you want these
people do now?"
John asked Mathew.
"I feel that it should be left to
the people here. Let them decide what to do"
He replied politely to John.
John asked us for our reactions. He
asked us to speak openly, without any hesitation.
"There is nothing much that we
can speak now. John knows things better. Now, Mathew appears to have some
working experience in this kind of incidents. It would be better if they decide
and guide us now."
I said looking at every one there.
"This is where we are wrong. Why
should some body decide for you? Why should John or myself decide for you? You
know the incident. And you know the good and bad. Can’t you decide now?"
Mathew asked, while John looked at him
nodding his head positively.
There was a silence for a while.
People began thinking.
Breaking the silence, I said:
"Let us join the national strike.
Whether good or bad, let us support the cause. I feel it is right thing to
do."
"Why do you say it is right
thing?" John asked me.
"I don’t know the politics of
good and bad. But I know only one thing that our anger against the Church is
our family matter. Our fight against the culprits is to protect ourselves and
our religion."
I said with my little knowledge of
things.
John looked at every one asking for
their comments.
Moses, Luke and Jacob repeated what I
said earlier.
"Our anger against Nuns or
priests is our family affair. Let us not make it public and strengthen the
outsiders. Before enemies or outsiders, we are a family and we should not give
impression that we are divided."
John asked the women for their
comments. The women felt shy to speak. But, Mary, my wife, came forward and
said the decision was good.
"Nuns are also women. We should
look at the issue from our side and not from the point of religion."
Mary said. I never expected that she
would speak like that. The life makes us speak these facts. They come from our
heart and our experience. Every day we study our life and live it.
Some times we adjust to the things and
some times feel depressed. There are more occasions when we feel like revolting
and fighting against injustice and fighting against landlords.
But, we can’t. Because we feel that we
are weak and the landlords are strong.
Given an opportunity, Mary has proved
that we have more ideas and clear understanding of the things. We are not
second to anyone in understanding the situations.
John and Mathew clapped in
appreciation of our decision, particularly, Mary’s observation.
John said: "That is good. You
should realize the fact that our anger is internal and our fight is external.
We express our anger with the Church leaders and settle things inside. But, we
have to fight with outside forces to protect ourselves."
We felt a sigh of relief as both John
and Mathew accepted our point.
Mathew asked for a white paper and
wrote down what we have decided. He asked the elders to sign on the paper. He
said he would distribute copies of the letter to the newspapers for
publication.
"The village supports the national
strike and demands that the government punish the guilty in the rape of Nuns
and murder of priests. The village wants the government to provide security to
the untouchable Christians. The village of also appealed to the Church
leadership to condemn atrocities against the untouchable Christians."
We called off the meeting and moved
towards our homes.
We asked Mathew to ensure that our
statement is published in all newspapers. Tomorrow we should see the name of
our village in the newspapers.
It is really great. We have people
like John and Mathew in our midst. We learn more with them and we will do more
things in the coming days if they remain with us.
I gave a pat on my Mary’s back
appreciating the lead that she had taken to express her feelings.
Both of us are thinking on the same
lines.
May be because of our encounter with
the two incidents: school admission in school for Jesus and the death of baby
in the hospital.
It was really a bad time for us. The
evil cyclone has destroyed our homes.
The trees were uprooted and the huts
collapsed. Hundreds of us in the village were rendered homeless.
We lived the life under the sky in the
cold for a week.
The children and the aged had even
more tough time in facing the cold waves.
There was no food to eat and no water
to drink. We were left to our fate on that week.
Fortunate or unfortunate, the
community radio set is working. In fact, it remained the only connecting device
for us with the rest of the world.
But, the news about the cyclone in the
radio caused us more heartburn than the very cyclone itself.
The radio declared that food packets
were dropped in our village by a helicopter. True, we saw a helicopter, which
come around the village in the air and disappeared.
We never thought it was meant to drop
food packets. How do we know that unless they did it? We learned it only after
listening to the news in the radio.
The radio declared that food packets
and new clothes were dropped for us and we are happy with that. But, there was
nothing. There was no help from the government.
"Is it not misleading the rest of
the world about the help that is being talked about for the village and the
flood victims," said Jacob.
"True. But what can we do? It is
their government and their radio."
Moses said.
"We can’t sit like this. Let us
do some thing to tell the whole world that the government has not done
anything." Peter said.
"That is good idea. But how to go
about it?"
Moses uncle asked him.
"I don’t know how to go about it.
But we have to do something,"
Jacob said.
Everyone in the village seemed to have
accepted what Jacob had said.
We all feel that there is a need to
tell the whole world that the government has done nothing for us.
There was some good news in the
village. We were told that a team of journalists was visiting the village to
study the damage caused due to the cyclone.
It was really a good opportunity for
us in the village to describe our difficulties to the world.
The team came in. We met them
together. First we told them about the damage that was caused to the village
and all of us. We described how the cyclone hit us and what were our fears and
feelings.
The journalists put some questions to
us like what time did the cyclone hit? What were we doing when it actually
drowned us and destroyed our houses? Whether we received any warning or not?
We have told them all the sufferings
we had because of this killer cyclone. We have also showed them the houses that
were damaged in the cyclone.
They took some photographs of the
damaged and destroyed houses. They also took some photographs of us,
particularly the old people taking shelter under the trees.
We had nothing to offer to our guests.
Not even a glass of water. We were helpless as the cyclone destroyed
everything. We have to start living from the zero.
We told them that we have nothing to
offer them. Then they asked us about the government’s help.
"Sir, we just listened to the
radio news. It said food and drinking water packets were dumped in our village.
It is a lie. A big lie. Not a single packet was dropped here. The helicopter
came here and made two rounds over the village. Then it disappeared in the air.
But, we heard from the radio that food and drinking water packets were dropped
in the village. It is far from truth. Please tell the world that nothing has
been given to us."
We told the journalists. They have
noted down all our points. They expressed sympathies with us and promised to
see that some help was extended to us.
They left us leaving a lot of hope. We
were told that they are the people who can expose the wrongs and get things
done in the right direction. We are hopeful that at least now, the helicopter
will drop some food and water packets.
A day passed and there was a sign of
helicopter coming to the village. We got up and looked up into the sky.
Yes! Some thing is being dropped from
it. In a few minutes, there were hundreds of packets falling down from the
helicopter.
We thanked the journalists. They must
have written our tales of owe in the papers. That must be the reason for the
helicopter dropping the packets.
We were happy. There was light in the
eyes of the villagers. All of us ran for the packets. Some fell on the roads.
Some remained where they were hoping that they would get at least one packet of
their share.
Our happiness was short-lived. The
packets did not land safe on the ground. Some fell on the tress and got
destroyed. Some fell in the water and disappeared. Some fell on the road and
broke open destroying the food. The water packets too were found to be no use.
Most of it went waste. But we tried to
have something from it because we are hungry and thirsty too. We need to live.
So we have to eat whatever is found and we have to drink whatever is available.
It was a long and unforgettable suffering.
It was a nightmare for all of us.
Two days later, our Parish Priest
visited our village. He spoke to us and recorded all our names. He promised
some help from the Church. We are confident that Church is not a government and
so the help would reach us.
Days have passed. We have began our
life. Started putting up thatched houses. Some of us purchased palm leaves and
put up the houses.
It was a month later, the parish
priest came back. He called for a meeting in the village. He began speaking to us.
"Brothers and sisters God is
great. He is with you all and that is why you are alive. God’s blessings are
with you and that is why the Church leadership had agreed to help you in the
hour of crisis."
"I had reported the damage caused
to you due to the cyclone. I have briefed it all to our Bishop and sought help
on your behalf."
"We must thank our Bishop for his
generous contribution. He had agreed to help you. Though you are 500 families,
we are able to help now only 25 families. I wish you decide the beneficiaries.
Because you know who is the worst hit by the cyclone."
It was a happy news for us that Church
has come forward even after a month to help us. But we were shocked to hear
that only 25 would get the benefit. That too, the priest wanted us to select
the beneficiaries from among us.
How can we select the 25 families from
among us? We are all badly hit by the cyclone. We don’t have anything now. We
are all equals and there is no difference in the extent of damage.
But the Priest wanted us to select us
the beneficiaries. That too, they said they would give material for setting up
thatched houses, which we have already done with whatever, we have after the
cyclone.
We wanted the Priest to give us the
money so that we could use it for some other need.
The Priest refused to give us money as
it was sanctioned by the Bishop only to supply material.
Then we wanted him to give us utensils
if he was so particular about not giving us money. But, surprisingly, he
refused it and said he would give material only to put up thatched houses.
"We have already put up thatched
houses and what do you want us do again with this material?"
Moses uncle asked the Priest.
"I don’t know that. The Bishop
asked me to give you material for the thatched houses and if you don’t want it
I will go back with the money."
The Priest said.
We did not know what to do. It was
funny and irritating. What shall we do if they come with the material, which we
already have? If they come with a different thing, we could accept it.
The Priest is not even ready to change
his proposal and give us the utensils.
Can we call it help? It is an eye wash
and we don’t need that. The help should be really useful for us and in this
case, it is too late.
"If you insist that we should
take the material for putting up huts, we don’t need this help because we have
already put up huts. If you are really concerned about us, try to help us in a
different way."
Jacob told the Priest.
"Okay. If you don’t need our help
it is your problem. Forget it. I will tell the Bishop that these people refused
our help." The Priest said.
"We are not refusing it. Try to
understand the reality. You have come here with a help which we don’t
need." Moses uncle said.
But the Priest was reluctant and left
the village cursing us for not accepting the help he offered us on behalf of
the Bishop.
We are helpless. We don’t need that
help. We want what is required to us and not what we already have with us.
If the Priest or the Bishop or even
the government is particular about helping us with a material for putting up
thatched houses, they should have come much early. We were literally living
under the trees for one month. It was only after the water receded, we put up
the thatched houses.
They took more than a month to come
back to us offering material for thatched houses. Is it the help they call?
We can understand their problem too.
They must have written the proposal to some foreign country for help. By the
time the proposal was approved and the money was cleared, it was too late.
In stead of insisting on the same
help, the Priest must have helped us in different form.
As victims, we wish they should come
with an open mind to help us. Provide us whatever is required for us and not
whatever they decide.
Any help should be according to our
needs and not according to their plans and proposals. What if the government
and the Priest come to us with utensils?
We wish that if the government gives
us utensils, the priest should give us clothes. Or if the government gives us
clothes, the priest should give us utensils. Otherwise there is no meaning for
the help.
In times of crisis, they should plan
according to our requirements and not according to their ideas.
But, who is there to understand all
this and help the victims?
It is a big question that not even God
can answer.
We began living our own life. Because
we have to live.
----- To be continued