ON AN OFFICIAL TOUR IN VIDARBHA
by v.s.gopalakrishnan
It was the blazing hour. Summer's sun w...
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ON AN OFFICIAL TOUR IN VIDARBHA
by v.s.gopalakrishnan
It was the blazing hour. Summer's sun was at its zenith. Eight hours more for its slow azimuthal descent. Earth was parched, so was my throat.I was dying of thirst. We had to drive an hour before the next village. I began to dream of jumping into the first 'saarvajanic wiheer', the public well, and drink, as well as wallow in, all its water in full self abandonment. Wallow like a buffalo. It knows where pleasure comes from. This animal forms a group and nonchalantly also occupies the middle of roads, and highways, in other seasons. The truck drivers avoid them by screeching their breaks at the eleventh hour/moment. Swerve, crash, bang. The driver is killed. The buffaloes are intact.
How did I digress from my parched throat to the buffaloes? Ah, jumping into the saarvajanic wiheer! No, for heaven's sake. I can't swim. Who will save me? The Tahsildar in my jeep? Yet to ascertain if he knew swimming. Say he knew it; would he jump into the saarvajanic wiheer to save me,his boss?
Such thoughts clouded my mind. Real suicidal thoughts,a well and all . They were helpful it seemed. When the mind wanders, the problem, the parched tongue, is forgotten.
My Tahsidar and I, and of course our jeep, reached Wadegaon village. 1 pm. Unbearable heat. In no time the villagers collected like locusts and rushed to us. Locusts where crops were not there! The locusts were heading for me and the Tahsildar. We felt a shiver, a fright, with sweat pouring out, making our dehydration worse. I remembered glucose, electrolyte, nimbu paani, all in a second. The next second the villagers were upon us. I told Tahsildar, "Yeh kya ho gaya? Hum par ye log khoodke aagaye.." (What has happened? These fellows are going to jump upon us).
The Tahsildar got more jittery than me. He was about to swoon and collapse. I held him firmly. My hands held his upper arms. Like a ballet dancing teacher, I swivelled him with a centrifugal push. That enabled me to put him in front of myself in order to shield me from the angry and menacing village crowd. The villagers had to hit him first before they could hit me.
The 'Garam Panchayat' chairman took the lead, came and stood in front of us. He was cool but all the other sheep that followed him were in a deadly mood, making
war cries and waving sticks, hands, loose turbans etc. These guys whose mother tongue is either hindi or marathi, could not pronounce "graam" (village).It became 'garam',like the weather. A real shame! Even I, a Madrasi, could easily pronounce "graam".
The 'Garam Panchayat' chairman, wearing a pagdi and a grey moustache, had a kindly visage. The heat of the moment made that visage a little different, hurt and mocking. The Tahsildar whom I was holding in front of me like a shield asked the chairman "Kaay jhaale?" (What happened). He said "Aamchyaa gaavaa madhle sagle wiheer sukhoon geyley" (All the wells in our village have gone dry). He added that there were no budget allocations given to the village for well-deepening work, and many people along with cattle had moved away to Gujerat. He further said, "Saheb, pyaayalaa pan gaavaanth paani naahi" (There is no water here even for drinking purposes).
It was my turn to fall into a swoon! No water for even drinking? My parched throat was killing me. My dreams were being shattered, of jumping into a 'saarvajanic wiheer'. I would only have fallen into a water-less well with a thud. That was certain death. No loyal Tahsildar also could ever save me then.
In a few seconds I suppose, I fell flat on the ground. I just had blacked out. I was told that everyone around went to get me a 'lota' of water. They amply splattered and splashed it on my face, hitting fiercely my eyes, mouth and even nostrils. When I came to, I realised I was wet all over. Everyone proffered me water to drink. Dirty water, smelly water, but water it was. I survived.
(by dr.v.s.gopalakrishnan ph.d., ias retd.)
This is fiction. No sympathies please! Close
Merci beaucoup M.Bahadur,
vs gopal
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Tres Bon....bnb
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Hi Ranjini,
When scarcity/draught affects a district, the Collector is the hardest worked. I have lived those times. Planning for jobs for villagers, providing employment, import of cattle feed from other States, drilling for water, deepening of wells.. my God, the whole district machinery goes into full gear.
I have added this tiny note at the end of the blog a few hours back:
This is fiction. No sympathies please!
Used the tiniest letters! What do you think of this formula?
cheers
vs gopal
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Hi Komlet,
Yes, such things do really happen. I have worked in the districts for many years and have witnessed acute scarcity conditions. During the scarcity years, even drinking water vanishes, and carts with barrels are used to fetch water from distant streams and distant villages.
cheers
vs gopal
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"How could I have mentioned in the blog that this is an imaginary story?"
Imaginary!!!! Naughty!!
There I was feeling sorry for you! Can't imagine how you can image such a story that late at night!!!
You could try putting "fiction" under your tags, but it still may not convince your readers, considering that you have concocted a fine mix of hot officers vs unruly villagers in the heat of summer!
Ranjini
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VS, though it is a fiction still it is terrible and pathetic to think.....no water even for drinking.........perhaps we are heading towards this imaginery situation..as do i read about the scarcity of drinking water.
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Hi Bina,
Many thanks. Whether harrowing, or 'daymarish', it was fiction. Sorry if u had been misled!
cheers
vs gopal
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Hi Ranjini,
Thanks for all those interesting real-life tales. Very glad to note that Koreans, who eat all creepy crawlies, have respect for squirrels. Lord Rama would be happy to know it.
How could I have mentioned in the blog that this is an imaginary story?
cheers
vs gopal
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gopalji
that must've been harrowing
bina
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Wow Gopal!
You made it sound comical, but that must have been a scary experience on the whole. First the invading villagers, then the swooning, not to mention waterborne diseases later! At least they did not hit you when you were already down!
Your buffalo on the road reminded me of my roommate when I first came to America. She was a Korean. We were colleagues and we both shared an apartment. She did not have a car at that time and I was highly dependent on nice people with cars. Upon inquiring, I found out that a month before I met her, she was driving down a winding road when all of a sudden a squirrel came to the middle of her road, just like those buffaloes. Our kindhearted driver swerved her car quickly to avoid the squirrel and went down the hillside, driving all the way into a beautiful house! Needless to say, she lost her license and the will to drive after that for a long time!
Ranjini
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