These farmlands remained unseen. That was a different time, said the elders. Trees were taller, and the flowers bloomed in spring. Summers didn’t last forever. We tread carefully alongside these roads. Where the village ended, dead trees stood upright in corners. Before us, were lands that held nothing anymore; a vast emptiness that shrouded these […]Read more "Entering the Red Corridor…"
At the crossroads, where Masrudi ended and began roads that led to a settlement of nomads, dust billowed in the streets. Lone clusters of trees rattled in the winds. Few people were in the streets. Fewer in the woods. Along the edges of dead farms were shrubs that sprung into action with gusts of wind […]Read more "‘Water. That’s what we will fight over next…’"
He looked at us standing beside them. His eyes lingered on our bare feet. Children scurried along pathways that led to the back alley lest their mothers caught them playing with their friends. It was time for supper. The elders blinked rapidly and held sombre faces. They knew him. “Someone informed me that you have […]Read more "‘I’ll tell you everything about NREGA. Everyone knew what was happening in Masrudi…’"
It was an old, dilapidated home. In this village, where the men and women sat in the courtyard all afternoon, where the wide dusty road led to settlements just like theirs, where the rains seeped through the cracks, and water pooled in the halls, there lived a family of seven. In that place, where clouds […]Read more "“It’s because I gave up on my dreams of attending college that my family can now eat…”"
So, they left. They don’t live there anymore. They work as labourers near the dam. They live in a tent now. There was nothing left for them in Bhise Wagoli. The forlorn streets, the high walls, the ceaseless crackle of dead twigs, vacant stares, the empty promises: they left them all behind. “They think it’s […]Read more "‘I lost everything because of that crop: my farm, my life, my daughter’"
It was the summer of 91. And, he remembered it well. But it was always summer in these parts, said the old man grunting beside him. His knees wobbled every time he moved in his chair. Across the building, crows sat atop the roof. It hadn’t rained here. Not for a while. Their lands were […]Read more "“After many years, a girl was born in the family…”"
Summers were spiteful. And, that afternoon, was no different. We walked alongside the main road away from the village. In that brief instant, we were flung towards it again: spaces that defied warmth. Where sunken fields disappeared before sight, the winds became our only companions. The day got hotter. By the roadside, a small crowd […]Read more "‘Write down my name. Tell my story to anyone who’ll listen.’"