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The Story of Pategaon : May Be A Story of Every Indian Village

By Sarosh Ali

15 September, 2015
Countercurrents.org

Representative Image: Credit Scoopwhoop.com

I met Krishna Rawas and Santosh Deshmukh today. It was this antiquated village of Pategaon that was definitely out of time and somewhat out of space too. Nonetheless, it was facing the same predicament as places in time, in space (i.e. my time and space of Mumbai). Now, sitting here at Aurangabad station platform no. 1, overlooking the mountain range, which I wonder, whether it's an offshoot of the Western Ghats or not, I am more interested in what Krishna and Santosh educated me with this morning.

The purpose of my visit was to collect information about the life of cotton growers and especially women, in the 17th century, around the ancient city of Pratishthana (present day Paithan). This was the topic of a story writing competition set up by Times Of India. I had reached Paithan not very late in the morning. I went to the bus-stand and asked a few vendors about some village of cotton growers on the banks of Godavari. They suggested a few names from which I chose Pategaon. The reason might have been its proximity to Paithan. They pin-pointed a bus and I hopped on. Before entering the bus the conductor made sure that I had the right change for the ticket as it was a short distance. In exchange, I requested him to tell me when to get down. After crossing a bridge, over a river thirsty for water herself, I landed at the hamlet of Pategaon.

I asked for families that grow cotton and was directed towards a narrow lane that takes us to the heart of the village. This being my first field-work trip, I was a little apprehensive (but not sexist) to ask women about their stories. Instead, I entered the boundary of a house where I could see two men. I introduced myself as a writer from Mumbai and that I was looking for information related to a story that I was working on. Without conscious thought they asked me in.

They sat on the floor and directed me to take a seat on the bed; but I didn't want to miss out on their comradeship and be treated like an alien, so I chose to sit down. I took out my pad and pen when Krishna asked me, what my story was about. I told him that its a story about a woman from a cotton growing family just like his, but in the 17th century. I requested him to shed some light on the life of girls there. My idea behind this was that familial and social relations are better preserved in a rural environment, and that there could be traces of 17th century that one would find here. Being a first-timer, I didn't criticize myself much for making this assumption. Anyhow, one thing that struck me was the simplicity of their answer. We can't help you much with your story, but we can tell you about our lives. And it started to flow......

Krishna was the more expressive type and could articulate his life's shortcomings passionately, like Nana Patekar in one of his early movies. It made me wonder whether the actor was from Pategaon. Santosh, on the other hand, had a matter-of-factness in his speech and approach. But we all know that still waters run deep. However, one thing that struck me about both of them was that they had an air of being detached with their own personal hardships and were speaking with a sense of responsibility for all their mates in the village. In a logical way, I knew that they were about my age; but being a brat myself, working and responsible people seemed like my dad's generation to me. However, we pretended to be comrades.

Uncertainty of employment, even after graduation, forced Krishna to stick with ancestral farming with the 4 acres that the family had. The land was irrigated well when he began his endeavor. However, as the dam became functional, it collected almost all the seasonal water in it's reservoir. Further, even-though everybody had a right on the water previously, now due to industrial interference, it was not for freeloaders. And I remember explicitly that Krishna said the cost of irrigation for farmers was ten times the cost of same amount of water for industrial purposes. Thus, most of the farming people depended on natural irrigation by seasonal and uncertain rains and a river sucked dry. At this monsoon period, only a few bawdis (wells) were full.

They mostly grew Cotton and Soyabean for income. Both these crops depend a lot on rains. If there would be no rains within a few days, they would have to plough again and use new seeds. If rains are late then the produce is not high enough. Irrigation through dams is a lost cause, as most water is diverted to provide industrial undertakings and urban areas. There is also sand-mining. Adul, a place a little north-east of Paithan, got a lot of rain in the first spell (same as Mumbai). No such luck in Pategaon. So, what are the options?

There is a simple law that governs the dynamics of work in rural India. If farming doesn't work then do labor. It is true that, in older days, due to overflowing rivers and herculean capabilities to work hard, farming was much more dependable. However, farming is, and always was, a bit of a gamble. If it fails then the only avenue for subsistence is to work for people that are better off. And in the present age of escalating disparity and systemically arranged and highly constrained choices, common man has been turned into a order taking machine, a commodity with much more supply than demand. It has lost it's edge, it's bargaining power against mechanization. The only reason that they are there is because they consume.

Till now there were no rains. So, Krishna and Santosh tried to work as daily wagers. One reason why Pategaon was out of place was that the minimum wages set by the government was just an irrelevant number over here and had no role to play in the pragmatic fold of the socio-economy of this place. Also, the 'Rozgaar Yojana' was a sign board at a distant office in Jalna. For our most hapless agricultural entrepreneurs, it would be Rs. 500/- for 2 days work with the constraint to manage ensuing 6-8 days without any work, within the same sum of money. This comes as quite a shock to a self-unemployed youth living in a city with Rs. 1000/- pocket money to be frugally used for a weeks personal expense. But, c'est la vie. From the comforts of my ethereal and poetic experience, I can afford to say, life sometimes is like that. But for Krishna and Santosh, it always is. It is a part of their ever-flowing stream of subconscious. Something that doesn't allow them to forget itself. And even in this hidden state of delirium, they don't forget certain other things too. Like consciously observing and listening to nature's exclamations....

It was me who first asked them, do you experience any extreme variations in the weather pattern? They gave a confirming nod. Rains were delayed and more extremely distributed. Temperatures, both extreme and average, were on the rise. This was happening since the past 6-7 years, they suggested. I didn't feel it was appropriate to ask for the the other known baggage, carbon-dioxide levels, but I knew who the culprit was. It was Climate Change. Cotton is a perennial crop. It's wild ancestors are found in regions with high temperatures. However, it is seen that, an increase in temperature above 35ºC results in reducing photosynthesis and thus hampers the yield. Lack of water, which effects the process of evaporation through plant or soil, also leads to low yield. In richer countries, where agriculture can be performed in a more controlled environment with sufficient water levels, increase in carbon-dioxide levels in the atmosphere increases the rate of photosynthesis. However, I wonder what the increased carbon-dioxide would do without sufficient water to back it up?

I was struck by their strong observational sense and native intelligence. They were gratifying me by giving me collective knowledge about agriculture, which had accrued there, and that they felt is what I was looking for. But personal stories are important. They give it a human element, and raise within us the instinct of empathy. Empathy is man's way to say that we go beyond greed, towards a life that is shared (I would not like to dwell upon the more fundamental debate lying below this idea. However, I will neither force you to empathize.). So, I asked them what specific problems they faced....

Children didn't have good educational opportunities there and so they were stuck in farming. Some sold parts of their lands to send their children for better education. Good schools asked for huge donations. People do migrate to big cities like Pune and Mumbai. But the increase in income there is not a good trade off for the high cost of living. Many a times they come back to the comforts of their village. The daridrya card (below poverty line) scheme is 10-15 years old. There hasn't been a survey for that long. Also, the allotment procedure is corrupt and even many rich people can avail it. Distribution of raw materials is market based. The Mandi is mainly run by private players and is not government regulated, as it should be. Krishna's mother works for the mid-day meal program at the government school. Her job is worth Rs. 1000/month to the government. Sometimes she gets it after 6 months.....

These eddies keep sucking life out of the place. Hopefully, they still have not crossed the point of no return. Of-course there are technological advances. There are motorbikes and TV sets and mobile phones. The ground is higher than before. The juggernaut of subsistence, however, is still crushing them hard. The quality of all of life's aspects has deteriorated. The food is not as nutritious as before. Water, a very down-to-earth thing till a few years ago, has been turned into a economic commodity. It's not just health but the overall quality of life that has gone down. I asked them about their childhood. They said those were much better times. Nowadays, it's sometimes drought and sometimes the water doesn't stop. In 2006, there was a huge flood in the Godavari. They wonder how in the earlier days the pouring was just right. It's a foreboding of more inclement times.

They didn't breakdown though. As if the brunt of the problem had distributed itself over a longer time, over a larger space of people. We may not endure such a hard life for very long. But, they calmly went by the old adage “Adjustment is Life”. And, for no obvious reason, I envied them. In a peaceful tone, they suggested, the Government should study their life conditions. And they still feel that life is worse in cities.

Sitting on a bench on platform no. 1, I now try to list down the events of the day. I had reached the station a few hours back, after having met with a eminent historian to ask about the 17th century life in the region. In the process, I spent almost all of my money. With the remaining, I purchased half a dozen bananas, a bottle of mineral water and a bunch of bidis, which I smoked intermittently, going out of the station. I was feeling a sense of adventure in being penniless. But it felt a little unworldly when I thought about Krishna and Santosh. It wouldn't last.

Author Bio: My name is Sarosh Ali. I live in Navi Mumbai, India. My educational background is in the field of Theoretical Physics, in which I have pursued research for more than 4 years. I am also a Mathematics enthusiast. Recently, I am trying to explore some issues within the realm of Social Sciences like Environment and Diaspora, and have a dream to, someday, identify the cause effect relationship pertaining to these issues. I also like to write. My writing is mostly speculation that emerges from a simpler picture of society and try to put the problem in front of the reader. To get a glimpse into this you can visit my blog http://sarosh30.blogspot.in/




 

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