“Our fields have no fencing around them. In two years, we might not have a home. We will lose our farms, and everything we have ever owned. They want us to move away. But we belong here. In the forest. The soil is fertile. And, we can grow our own food. They don’t understand these […]Read more "‘The government built them structures not homes…’"
There were two of them. It was an ordinary day. Perhaps, the streets were crowded, and fruit carts remained immobile. The vendors set up their stalls right before the alley where old vehicles stood: their paint worn out, and doors dented. Perhaps, it wasn’t any different than the day we arrived. Were there pallid faces […]Read more "‘It was never chronicled. Those who died took our history with them.’"
Red and white. They hung around her neck. A basket with betel leaves, ash and vermillion lay beside her. It was wrapped in white cloth. “She could be a Devadasi,” whispered Renuka as she walked towards the school. A thin veil of white hung in the sky. Dust swirled in the winds, that afternoon. Specks […]Read more "They wandered through the forests for centuries. They were nomads…"
I never set foot in there. From the day I was born, I was told not to. So, I never thought about it… “Why is their God better than ours?” asked Renuka as the men bickered amongst themselves on tradition, revolution and broken faith. Yemunappa shot her a glance. His gaze seemed unkind, at first. […]Read more "‘I never set foot in the temple. From the day I was born, I was told not to. Because I am Dalit…’"
She didn’t know. We had never met her before. Her mother carried bricks on her head. Sometimes, she worked in the fields. “Amma was a coolie,” she said shrugging her shoulder; her demeanour speckled with nonchalance. Her eyes scanned the dirt on her toes. She sighed as she rubbed her cracked soles against her slippers. […]Read more "Her parents died when she was young. So, she was dedicated to the Goddess. Years later, her sister died too…"
He ran, fixing his shawl, towards the stall where gathered men in hordes amidst structures that barely stood up. Grey sludge seeped through the settlement; froth gathering at its corners. Here, some spaces were overcrowded. Some were sordid. And, they were stuck in between. Nobody remembers what they wore that morning. They don’t remember if […]Read more "‘He collapsed. So, I carried appa in a garbage trolley to the bus stop…’"