“My father was arrested because of me. My work as a journalist and my involvement in bringing to light issues faced by adivasis in Bastar had consequences. Over the years, my family paid a heavy price. The men in uniform barged into my home. They couldn’t find me. So, they took my father away. […]Read more "They aren’t pathways or endings. They aren’t records or data. They are human beings…"
There were specks of green shrouded in red dust: a sight not lost on its inhabitants. Dust swirled in the skies, and gathered on the windowsills. The winds carried them further; a dreadful sight to us – the outsiders – who came to these lands to write its tales: some forgotten, some buried and some […]Read more "Conflict, displacement and toxic water: Adivasis of Bastar speak of lost lands and dead lakes…"
“When are we meeting again?” asked Soni Sori, that morning. At the Geedam junction, a few weeks ago, we first met her and Lingaram Kodopi. Their car was parked across the road. There were soldiers stationed outside her home. In all the times that we set foot in her house, over the years, they never […]Read more "Laal paani, laal dhool, laal salaam: In a sea of red, adivasis struggle to find what was once theirs…"
At the end of a lone street, there stood a blue house. Where lay nothing but mud roads that led to settlements near the hills, we passed by that house at a junction in Cholnar. A frail old woman stared ahead at nothing before her. She sat there at the doorstep most days. Her name […]Read more "They called him a police informant. They killed my son: Jogi Mandavi"
Scribbling on a piece of paper, Sadiq paused for a while before explaining in detail the schemes introduced to tackle infant deaths in Attapadi. A few records suggested that there were more than 50 deaths reported in the past ten years. “Creating sensationalised news has become top priority today. Reports in the media have been […]Read more "Rest Of My Family Travel Diary: Day 25 (Part 3)"
At 11 pm, we parked near a petrol bunk to rest for the night. We were in a deep slumber when we heard footsteps outside. A man muttered to himself in Tamil. His head hung forward and he slurred his words. “I am not scared of the police. I am not scared of anyone,” he […]Read more "Rest Of My Family Travel Diary: Day 24 (part 1)"