Survival Tolerances

Away from the city, around 300 km away from Pune there was the village of Madhapur. The village was not very industrialized. People lived in harmony and had the basic amenities to live. People in Madhapur stood by each other in their joys and sorrows and their ups and downs. They had problems to crib about, but who doesn’t have any and which of us don’t talk about them. But when it really comes to speaking about basic survival needs, do we really need to keep silent or do we become a rebel?

Maharashtra according to statistics as well, is one of the most water-deprived states in India. The irrigation facilities and canal supplies are rather scarce given the geographical area covered by farms and rural areas. Added to this is the inadequate rain every year, every farming season. Thousands and thousands of farmers die every year. The inability to harvest crops eventually leads to suicides amongst farmers as they are unable to feed their own families with the little grain and vegetables.

Let me talk about one such family consisting of Ram Mohan, his wife Gandharva and his child. Ram Mohan possessed 2 acres of land. He committed suicide two years back owing to the huge loss in the farms and inadequate rains. Gandharva was left to manage the family's needs. She was broke for around a year feeding on the neighbors’ food and support.

Nevertheless, to meet her needs she finally started stitching clothes, chappals and khadi clothes for the other men in the village. She got support and money slowly started coming in. Slowly she started saving money for the food for her child and home needs in a matka.

One summer night in Madhapur, Gandharva was struggling to pour a glass of water for her child. She had only half a mud pot of water for drinking and cooking for the night and the day after. She barely had any water stored in the matkas in the house. How did she manage? She was unknowingly becoming a cruel mother to her own child. Nothing came to her mind. She took a glass of water and gave it to her child, hoping to tide over the issue for the night.

She had a bamboo stool in the house. She took it and sat outside the house with a bamboo fan in her hand. Sitting there she started thinking about her loss of Ram Mohan, how the water problem had snatched her husband away from herself. What would she do…when the entire village ran out of water? Would she need to wrap things up and shift to a new village, where there would be no water problem! At least here she had the support of the neighbors and the elders of the village. What should she do! She was also planning to start farming on the lands or sell the lands if possible to meet her needs. But what if there was no water in the entire village, will selling the lands lead to a solution for her needs?

She got up, took her stool, went inside and lay down beside her child. She kept fanning herself till her eyes were trying to shut with sleep. Thoughts were still running in her mind. She fell asleep in about fifteen minutes.

The next morning when she got up she saw some people from the city had come to see the lands. She could only see some vague images as they were very far from her, around 3-4 houses away. Curious, Gandharva went to her neighbor’s house to enquire about the matter.

“They have come from the city to inquire about the lands, the dry conditions and the monetary value each land can bring to the farmers and their families. They plan to set up some canal structures from the nearby river and also some techniques to create rains for the fields. They will be visiting the village often”. “Sarkar se aye hai ye log”

 “I feel you will have a smile now Gandharva” spoke the man in the house.

Gandharva spoke nothing. She went back to her house. She sat again on the floor and looked at her child.

The very next moment she got up, took her child on her shoulders and started running around the houses and around the fields. Oh! she had her smile back!

The pain, the smiles, the painful days and nights seemed hopeful. She saw her way.