The Barpali Days

This blog is the Facebook of Barpali which picturise its "life" and "culture". It was a "palli" or a village a century back where the all time great Oriya poet swabhaba kabi Gangadhar Meher had taken birth. Now this bustling little town is renowned world-over for the weaving of Sambalpuri ikat handloom fabrics. Agriculture is its prime economy. And when you happen to visit this little town don't miss to taste Chaul bara.

Breaking

Nov 6, 2015

7:38 PM

Hunt for the sugar canes

[The charming story of school going kids how they loot sugar canes
 when a tractor load of it turned upside down due to an accident]

It was the year 1983 then I was a student of Class 7th of the historic Prithviraj High School of Balangir. Though I was an average student in the class, but happen to be an obedient and a loyal follower of my school teachers. By nature I used to be very shy and calm. One morning on reaching the school my batch mate Bhuska (literally means hefty) told me that a tractor over-loaded with sugar canes has turned upside down by the side of the road. My batch mates lured me to invade the place and to steal the sugarcanes that taste sweet when chewed. They instigated me to join them. They said together we shall invade the place that is located one kilometre away on the outskirts of the town. Previous night that tractor was overturned while ferrying the sweet canes to the sugar mill situated at Tora of the Bargarh district.
[Prithvi Raj High School, Balangir]

Bunking the first class of the day i.e. mathematics, I joined the league of my friends. We might be six or seven students who picked our respective cycles and headed for the site of the accident. On reaching the location we found the presence of few residents living near around. They were gathering the scattered sugar canes so as to carry their homes. We were informed the tractor driver and the helper were injured and admitted in the district hospital. And their left no one to guard it. Immediately we took possession of the trolley as if we are the guardians of it. We started picking the sugarcanes. Holding each of the cane on the either side we broke them with our knees. Seating there on the side of the trolley we started chewing the sugar canes. My hands and the mouth were strewn with the juice of the sugar cane. While we were chewing the sugar canes a couple of buffalos reached and started pulling the leafs of the sugar cane out of the trolley load.

My comrade Sukta (literally means a skeleton) asked me “Do you know where the sugar comes from ?” I told from the grocery store. He laughed at me saying “hebo sala budbak” (you stupid). He said apart from white sugar, the yellow jaggery is also made by extracting and fermenting the juice of the sugar cane. I immediately recalled the mound of yellow Indian sweetener that my mother uses while making a few of Oriya sweet dishes like Kakra, Manda Pitha or Arisha. 

While chewing the sugar canes I shared with my friends the memories that were associated with this stuff. One summer noon I was caught red handed by my mother, while I was stealing this sweet stuff from the kitchen. When she was resting at the noon I invaded the kitchen. I placed a wooden stool and stood over it, my hands managed to reach the cupboard where my mother keeps the circular Amulspray box in which jaggery was stored. While I was opening the cap of it the box escaped from my hands and banged on the floor creating a noise. My mother woke up and rushed to the kitchen thinking it to be an invasion of a cat. I was yet struggling to open the cap when I got a thrash on my buttocks. I was shocked and turned back. My mother was standing there holding a broom in her hands. I left the place while crying. After a while she called me to the kitchen and gave a piece of jaggery to relish. She pacified for her action saying the punishment was given not for the jaggery, but for stealing it.     

At the venue of the tractor accident we too gathered a bunch of sugar canes and tied them with the leafs of it and loaded on our cycles. Even tried to fill  our rectangle school cloth bags with its pieces. In the mean while a friend spotted a jeep was approaching us. One of the batchmate Bhoku (literally means barking) raised the alarm, “It’s a police jeep, It’s a police jeep”. As if the culprits, out of fear we all fled from the place while carrying some sugar canes. It was noon hours and I straight away went to home for lunch. On reaching home my mother asked, “where have you been?”.  While throwing the school bag on the sofa with a exhausted voice I lied “To the school”. She pointed her finger on the collar of my shirt and asked what these dark spots are. I lowered my head and narrated the story of the invasion in which I participated along with the friends. She said the stains of the sugarcane juice will never erase during its life time and as a punishment I have to manage with that shirt until the end of the academic year. At evening I took out the school bag to do the pending homework, but was disturbed as could not find my mathematics notebook. I thought I might have left it in the classroom.  But I wondered where it went, as I did not entered the class room that day at all.

Next morning on reaching the school the peon came to the class. He asked me to summon on the Office of Head Master. I started shivering. He escorted me to the office of the head master. I was nervous since never before I was summoned like this. I guessed something terrible is going to happen. I went to his office to face the worst court martial ever. I entered his chamber and stood numb. He was evaluating the answer sheets of the just concluded half-yearly exams. He removed his thick black spectacles from his face and placed on the table. And he lifted a notebook and handed over to me. It was that missing mathematics note book, carrying my name in it. He asked if I was travelling in the sugarcane tractor that over turned two days back. I started shivering and sobbing. I was speechless. He said the police have recovered my note book at the spot of the accident and sent to the school. In the mean while the bell of the first class of the day rang. He alerted me saying “You may go to the class, but remember not to spill the beans while gathering the grains”.

WhatsApp # +918249314972
E.Kiran Mohan(The Blogger)
C/o.Dr.E.R.Rao(MD)
Tehsil Chowk,
At/PO: BARPALI – 768 029
Dist. Bargarh, Odisha, India

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Aug 26, 2015

7:30 PM

Poet Haldhar Nag : An Agent of Social Reform

[The Upper Primary school of Ghens where he spent his life selling peanuts to the children]

In the entire length and breadth of Western Odisha Koshali poet Haldhar Nag is someone who is revered to as a messiah. Needless to say he got lakhs of followers in Odisha and Chatishgarh, who  congregate in large number to listen to his Koshali poetry when so ever he orates on the podium. You would be amazed to know Haldhar neither ever went to attend a high school, college or a university to hone his skills in Oriya literature. He in fact attended Oriya primary  school only up to Standard Three in his village. He was born to a Gauda family. The basic vocation of this community is to act as cowherds. They rear cows and make a living by milching and selling the milk.

The ancestors of Haldhar Nag were from Baidpali village. During the year 1948 there was an epidemic in that village. Hundreds of people died in no time. His father Bhaja Nag took the emergency step to send his mother Gurbari Nag to Ghens to rescue her life from the clutches of death. Over night she walked several miles to reach Ghens. She came to Ghens to take shelter under the roof of maternal uncle of Haldhar Nag. Later in the year 1950 Haldhar Nag was born at Ghens. When Haldhar was barely ten years old his father expired. And within a year his mother as well passed away out of paralysis. At a tender age he was left alone as an orphan and his life  was in utter chaos.  
[The opinion of Hindi and Bollywood lyricist
Guljar about kabi Haldhar Nag]



The early life and the adulthood of Haldhar Nag was spent on hunger. In his own words he says, his entire life was a confrontation with only one hurdle and i.e. “anna kasta” or hunger. After the demise of his parents he never had a full-meal and was used to be contended with what so ever little offered by his sister-in-law. He remembers the days when he survived solely by consuming Kulhia Kanda. These are the roots of a wild plant which are bitter in taste. They are so bitter and inedible that even wild boars and bears don’t even dig the earth to consume it. 

Haldhar was dropped from the village Oriya medium Government school while he was in Standard Three. To make a living he worked in Mangal Baba Hotel. He was cleaning the utensils in the hotel. While this young lad was working in the dirt filled environment of the hotel the Sarpanch of Ghens Late Braja Mohan Sahu spotted him. That village head invited Haldhar Nag to work as a cook in the hostel of the Ghens High School. Haldhar joined the school at a monthly salary of Rs.8/- (roughly US 10 Cents as on this date). He keep on working in the school for long 16 years. And his monthly salary enhanced from Rs.8 to Rs.16; to Rs.20; to Rs.25 and finally to Rs.40 by the time he left the school.

[Haldhar Nag standing outside his Kabi Bhvan]
It was the year 1975 when the Branch Manager of Balangir Anchalik Gramya Bank (now Utkala Bank) endorsed him a loan of Rs.1,000/- to undertake a business venture. Haldhar opened a stationary shop outside the premises of Govt. Boys Primary School. Haldhar was selling the blackboards, chalk sticks, note books, pens, pencils, chocolates and of course peanuts. His client base was purely made of school children. His business hours were strictly restricted to the functioning of the school. As a result, during the school holidays he unable to earn a single Rupee. Somehow he managed to meet the immediate needs to support his life.



At the age of 22 years Haldhar married Parbati. His wife Parbati was under prolong illness and could not bear any children. She forced Haldhar to merry another lady. She herself carried the maula bhar for the marriage of Haldhar Nag. It’s an Oriya ritual where different commodities need to be carried on the shoulder by the maternal uncle of the bride groom during the marriage function.

It was the year 1976 when the second marriage of Haldhar Nag was successfully accomplished. And his first wife Parbati voluntarily left for her parents house. Haldhar resumed his life afresh with Malati. And in another year the couple got blessed with a baby girl.


His anguish about un-touchablity is reflected in one of his poetry work titled Achian. Here he composed an episode from the Hindu epic Ramayana. He narrated how Lord Rama had accepted and eaten the touched fruit of a forest dweller named Sabari. Whereas in the Twenty-first Century we the Hindus don’t even enter the homes of low caste people. Based on Hindu religious texts he composed many works like Satia Biha, Tara Mandodari, Karam Sani, Rasia Kabi Tulsi Das etc. Apart from religious texts he composed poetry on Santha Kabi Bhima Bhoi, Rusi Kabi Gangadhar Meher, Vir Surendra Sai etc.


The suicide rate of students in India is 10.3 per 1,00,000. And most of the students die when they failed in the exams. But here is someone who able to reach the pinnacle of Oriya literature despite being dropped from a primary school. It proves, qualification and an educational degree is not a prerequisite to achieve anything in life. 


                                               
Post script: He has been felicitated with India's fourth highest civilian award  i.e. Padmashree title by the President of India Sh.Pranab Mukherjee in the year 2016.
   [writer E.Kiran Mohan in a candid conversation with poet Haldhar Nag]   
kiranbima@gmail.com
C/o.Dr.E.R.Rao (MD)
Tehsil Chowk,
At/PO. BARPALI – 768 029
Dist. Bargarh, Orissa, India
Cell # +918249314972

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Jun 30, 2015

10:11 AM

State Bank of India (SBI), Barpali Branch : A Pandora's box to unveil


While looking at the above image you may be mislead thinking it to be a fish market of Howrah or the long queue in a ticket counter of CST of Mumbai. But it is neither of the two. It is the view of SBI branch of Barpali. 


Though the working hours starts at 10.00AM, but you won’t find its staff on their respective seats till 11.00AM. Its employees are absolutely lethargic and highly indiscipline. The situation inside this branch is alarming like any other branches of this public sector monolith. There is absolute chaos. In an average every other day one account holder fights verbally with the bank staff for the poor or lack of service in the branch. In the past one of its Branch Manager Late M.R.Hanuman was a victim of hypertension and high blood-pressure caused while working in this ill fated branch of Barpali. He expired during February 2007 within six months from the date of occupying the position of the Branch Manager.


Though the branch has got three ATM machines, but most of the days they remain un-operational either because they are not stuffed with cash or because of internet link failure. Henceforth every account holder is forced to withdraw money from the cash counter during the working hours. On any given moment of a working day there would be around 30+ account holders standing in a queue either to deposit or to withdraw the money. It consumes an enormous one to two precious hours to withdraw money. It’s highly irritating especially when you languish for hours together to withdraw your very own money. Think how bizarre it would be for any service holder or a businessman to part this much of precious time during the business hours of the day.

It is highly disgusting when you step into its filthy ATM chamber  adjoining the branch. As could be seen in the photo the residents of Barpali are so vulgar that they spit the pan and guthka inside the ATM chamber, while waiting for their turn to withdraw money. 


Since the beginning of the summer the main glass door of the ATM chamber is all the time kept open, because the pull-back system does not work.  What is the point when you operate two AC machines inside it, while the door is open. The precious electricity of the nation is being wasted for no reason. It is such a small fault they should have replaced the equipment, if not getting a mechanic at Barpali to repair it.

A majority of the readers might be looking at the scenario from the investor perspective. But one need to look at the other side of the desk as well. Mr.Sanat Sahu the ABM of the Barpali SBI branch defends the position of the branch by saying, there are only seven officials of the bank to serve as many as 20,000+ saving accounts. Apart from this there are 5,000+ term deposits and current accounts that are in operations. When so ever any Government schemes or programs are introduced there would be a plethora of new application forms to open the bank accounts by the public to avail the benefits. This causes an uninvited extra burden.

The major cause of stepping of unaccountable customers to the branch is the non-use of alternative payment gateways, be it the use of mobile banking, internet banking or swapping of the cards. The reason for it is that, most of our account holders are either illiterate or not tech savvy. The mass does not use either net banking or phone banking.  

Nevertheless when you visit any private bank be it either the Axis, ICICI, HDFC or the IDBI Bank at Bargarh you would be greeted with a smile at the reception by a lady executive and most likely to be offered a cup of tea or a drink if you posses a priority account. And this writer is enjoying such status quo unasked for the past ten years, because he got a salary account of LIC of India with Axis Bank.

IFSC Code : SBIN0002012 

Branch Code : 002012
MICR Code : 768002044 

NB : The views expressed over here are personal and not targeted upon any particular employee or the Branch Manager of the SBI, Barpali.

Cell# +918249314972
E.Kiran Mohan
C/o.Dr.E.R.Rao (MD)
Tehsil Chowk,
At/PO. BARPALI – 768 029
Dist. Bargarh, Orissa, India 


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Jun 21, 2015

9:03 PM

Artist Saroj Rout : A Blessing in disguise


This fertile land of Barpali has been bestowed with many renown  poets, writers, weavers, craftsmen and of course artists over the past one Century. In the recent years Saroj Rout of Barpali emerged as an artist of national repute. He is a self taught artist who in fact never went to attend any art colleges. By vocation he is a Government teacher, but art is his passion. Apart from fine art he is being recognized in the society as a stage artist, Oriya poet and an amateur photographer.

It was the year 1982 when Saroj Rout passed 10th Standard with 1st Division. In the Eighties of the last Century a boy securing 65% marks   was considered to be of par excellence. His mother Smt. Maliphula Rout was the sole mentor of this kid, who in fact herself was a teacher at Government Girls High School of Barpali. Whereas his father was a  farmer of Bandhpali village. All his father could do is just source the livelihood for the family.

On passing out successfully the 10th exam Saroj Rout wanted to go Khalikote to join the famous Art College over there. But his mother had higher expectations from her kid. She wanted to groom her son either as an engineer or doctor. And against his will his mother forced him to join Intermediate(+2) Science at Panchayat College, Bargarh. His heart and mind was never in the books. Like the score of other students though he passed out 12th exam, but could not qualify either in the entrance exams of engineering or medical. After 12th he went to do B.Com at the most premier college of western Odisha i.e. Gangadhar Meher College at Sambapur. Afterward he did his Bachelor of Education (B.Ed) to become a teacher.

In the year 1990 he joined Jawahar Navodaya Vidyalaya, Sambalpur as a mathematics teacher on adhoc basis. But the following year he got the Odisha State government job as a Sikhyakarmi (teacher) at Chiknipali U.G.M.E. School. Then he was a young man of 28 years old. He was passionate towards life, but his meager salary did not allow him to meet the needs. He charted out the means to make money on his own. He setup a commercial art shop by the name Elora Arts at Barpali Bus Stand to sustain in life. He along with his friends used to setup photo studio in Sital Sasthi Jatra. With the profit margin earned through this temporary makeshift studio once they even able to make a South India tour.


During 2009 his spinal cord disk skidded from its usual location. He was captive in a hospital bed for weeks. His life was in a chaos with uncertainties looming at large. But this prolonged illness proved to be a blessing in disguise. Curtailing the public life he had to spend time in solitude at home along with the loved one. His wife was of a great support to him morally during this traumatic phase of his life. She compromised with the given circumstances of the life by sacrificing every comfort a lady needs to run her home. While confined within the four walls at home Saroj Rout honed his skills in fine art which were lying dormant within him since his childhood. In the study room he searched for his paint brushes, papers and canvas. Painting  needs enduring hours of either seating or standing along with the easel. Challenging his physical impediment slowly and steadily he started sketching and paintings one after another.
[Divine Love - Acrylic on paper]

But the real boost in his art career came when he joined Facebook. He got connected with the big names in the contemporary art world like Bijay Biswal, Ramesh Jhawar, Stan Miler, La Fe and Liu Yi. He able to exchange the ideas with them. Inspired by these artists he shifted from oil paints to water colors. Working with the water colors is a real challenge for any artist, because there is no room for any error or omissions.



Saroj Rout is a keen observer of life and nature surrounding Barpali. Once a while he drives his car to the rural belt. While seating inside his car he takes snaps of the villagers unnoticed with his Nikon DSLR (Digital Single Lance Reflection) camera. On returning home, while observing these snaps he do the paintings of rural life of Odisha. But while doing the study painting on the locations he submerges himself with the Mother Nature.

    [Smile - Acrylic on canvas]     
            
[Paddy fields - Water color on paper]
                     
[Mahanadi - Water color on paper]
                                                                         (On sale)
[Pallha rua - Water color on paper]

[Forest Bunglow -
Water color on paper]

Saroj Rout along with his artist friends Dhruba Behera, Ramakanta Tripathy and Panchanan Barik founded Kalabhumi in the year 1999.  The objective of this organization is to impart art to the school students. At present Saroj Rout is heading this non-profit motive institution as the  President. One of his Facebook friend, who in fact himself is an artist from Turkey was inspired to send thrice lot many art materials as a gift for the students of this art school. They include sketch books, crayons, pastel colors, water colors and story books.

So far he participated in group art exhibitions at places like Amritsar, Hyderabad and Bangalore. But during the winter of  2014 he went solo at Barpali. This art symposium was inaugurated by Dr.Pravas Singh, the MP of Bargarh. This exhibition added another feather on the cap to Barpali as no such exposition was ever organized at this little town. He charted out the future course of action for his life well in advance. Leaving behind a well paid and secured government job he want to opt VRS (Voluntary Retirement Scheme) in three years time from now to be a fulltime artist. He want to take Barpali to the World platform of art and culture.

When so ever he completes a painting, as if a kid he carries the art frame with enthusiasm to show it to his mother, when she would be busy with cooking in the kitchen. On looking at his paintings she overwhelms herself, but simultaneously repents that she did not sent her son to any colleges to hone his skills in fine art.

kiranbima@gmail.com
WhatsApp# +918249314972
E.Kiran Mohan(The Writer)
C\o. Dr.E.R.Rao (M.D),
Tehsil Chowk,
At\PO – BARPALI – 768 029,
Dist. Bargarh, Orissa, India.
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May 21, 2015

8:19 PM

Makardhwaj and Sukanti Meher : The Parents of Jagat Janani Mata Parvati


In the celestial wedding of Sital Sasthi, Lord Shiva donot have any parents since he is the Lord of the Universe. Nruparaj Club takes the responsibility to act as the parents of the Lord Shiva. On the other hand a chosen civilian couple of Barpali acts as the parents of Ma Parvati. In the year 2015 Shri Makardwaj  Meher and his wife Smt.Sukanti Meher are being shortlisted by the Sital Sasthi Jatra Committee to be the parents of Jagat Janani Ma Parvati. It is to be noted that, it’s a life time opportunity, which only a chosen few are being blessed with.

Makardwaj Meher is an ikat weaver and belongs to the Bhulia community of Barpali. He and his wife Sukanti Meher are living a discipline life in conjunction with the society. Their only objective in the life is to see his two sons get settled in life properly, who are in fact now attending colleges at Bhubaneswar.

Because of their upbringing both husband Makardhwaj and his wife Sukanti have got religious bent of mind ever since their childhood. In her life Sukanti had done Chandi Paath for fourteen long years, which is considered to be of stringent religious penance. She never knew that Ma Shakti would someday take the position of her daughter. Since she got blessed with only two sons, she always felt the need of a daughter. Sukanti Meher was born at Binka of Sonepur District. At the tender age of  fifteen years she was going to attend the Lord Shiva temple unfailingly every Monday. But was never knew, someday she would be the mother-in-law of Lord Shiva.

There were a series of events which forecasted the arrival of Ma Parvati to the home of weaver Makardhwaj Meher. But both the couple were clueless about it. Way back in the year 2010 during the most turbulent years of Makardhwaj Meher, one night he had a dream. In the dream he saw Ma Parvati adorned in a white saree appear before him. She appeared absolutely gracious with sindoor (vermicelli) on the head. And a diamond was glowing on her forehead. In the dream Ma Parvati told Makardhwaj, “Very soon I would come to your home”. On the other hand their younger son Pratap Meher had a dream where he saw the Goddess entering their home and went to merge in the photo frame of Godess Durga.


After the declaration of nomenclature of parenthood of Ma Parvati at two different occasions two baby cobra snakes roamed inside the main gate of their house. But Makardhwaj whisked them away unhurt since cobra is associated with Lord Shiva.  The family of Makardhwaj witnessed a spurt in the material achievement since the arrival of Mother in their home. During the year 2010 Makardhwaj Meher got the National Merit Certificate. But for the following year 2011 his wife Sukanti Meher got the National Award for handlooms from the hands of President of India Pranab Mukherjee.


If you got a son-in-law who either is a doctor or an engineer think how proud you feel for him in the society. But when the son-in-law is dev-adi-deva (Lord of the Lords) Shiva what else one need to have in life.

E.Kiran Mohan
C/o.Dr.E.R.Rao (MD)
Tehsil Chowk,
At/PO. BARPALI – 768 029
Dist. Bargarh, Orissa, India

Cell # 91-99-371-20565
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Apr 22, 2015

1:04 PM

Hoo Chook Chook



[The charming story of a three year old kids's enthusiasm to travel in a train]

My three years old daughter Esha could be the most mischievous kid on this earth. She makes everyone breathless at home with her constant pranks and nagging. Roughly it takes one hour on the part of Esha’s mother to feed her the routine meal. While feeding the rice and daal her mother makes her ride the bicycle in the lawn. She   narrates different jungle stories to feed every morsel of grain to Esha. But Esha’s favorite set of stories are that of trains. She is fascinated by the gigantic diesel locomotives that pulls the long set of compartments. It is almost three decades ever since the steam engines has been phased out from the tracks by the Indian Railways, but even as on this date in common parlance a train is referred to as “hoo chook chook” by the grand-parents while narrating the stories of trains to the grand-children.

Esha firmly believe these trains belong to her Hari Mawa (maternal uncle). Because it is Hari who do come from Raipur to pick Esha and her mother to take to her maternal grand-parents home. On return once again it is Hari who drops them back at Barpali in a train. Esha happen to travel in trains in the dead of the night, because Puri-Durg Express pass through Barpali at around 2.10AM. As a consequence Esha never able to enjoy travelling in a train. In the last two years, twice we made long distance journey in trains. The first one was to Goa and the second one was to Darjeeling. Since both the occasions were in summer I made the tickets reserved in the two-tier (second class) air-conditioned berth cars. One way it takes around 36 hours to travel to these distant places in a train from Odisha. But Esha unable  to enjoy the journey since the AC compartments are the insulated one. She unable to see the world outside the train compartment. She had to spend long two days inside the compartment, as if a kid spends her time in a class-room while obeying to strict discipline that is being imposed in a school.

Before the onset of this summer we had our trip to New Delhi. It was the maiden trip of Esha and her mother to the home of my younger brother Karun who lives at New Delhi. We traveled in a non-A/C three tier sleeper class compartment. We boarded the Samta Express at Titilagarh railway station around noon hours. Weather was pleasant. In sharp contrast to her usual temperament, Esha was jubilant for the reason she would travel in a train. Prior to catching this train, many nights she shared with me her wild imaginations about trains.

As we alighted from one train at Titilagarh for boarding Samta Express Esha picked my wheel-laden suitcase and pulled it on the platform. I was relieved thinking Esha is now grown-up and could take her own responsibility in life. Every by-stander on the platform looked with amusement as she was pulling a suitcase which might be weighing more than her body weight. While following us one college girl even took a running video of Esha as if a paparazzi with her smart digital phone. Her video might have gone viral in the Whatsapp and Facebook by the commuters. They might have thought, how cruel as the parents of this little girl don’t even hire a porter to lift the luggage.

At noon hour we boarded the Samta Express at Titilagarh without much inconvenience. As I was arranging our luggage beneath the two berths that has been reserved for us, Esha settled herself near the window and told me “Nana eta mor jaga, mui ene basmi” (Its my place and I seat over here). From the window she was gazing at the goods train embarked on the other track. All of a sudden she clapped  saying “amar train chala, train chala” (Our train is moving, its moving). I patted on her shoulder. Even without looking at me she pushed aside my hand with irritation, as that disturb the pin-pointed attention with which she was looking at the other train.  While holding her chin with my right hand I turned her head  towards the platform on the other side. Then she realized it is not ours, but the other train which is moving. She was baffled saying “haaain….”.

Soon our train left the platform. While keeping alive my personal belief, I turned my body posture towards the direction the train was heading. I folded my hands and prayed to my lord to make the journey safe and fruitful.

As the train galloped at an higher speed there came a spree of hawkers. The first one was a tea vendor. While shouting “Chai…..chai…..chai….” he keep on walking ahead even without looking at the commuters. I called him saying “Oye…Chai…chai..”. But he did not hear me. The second hawker was carrying a bucket full of mineral waters. But as he saw a kid of three years old, out of the bucket he pulled out an orange drink bottle to instigate Esha. Moving my eyes I told the vendor to walk ahead. The third one was a news paper vendor. He did not care to stop because he knew this girl can’t read any news papers. The fourth one was an ice-crème vendor. When he saw Esha he stood and loudly said ice crème,  ice crème. Esha looked towards me and pointed her finger towards the ice crème. I had to obey. 

[Kendu fruits]
After a while an old tribal lady came holding a bamboo basket. She had lot many tattoos all over her hands and  legs. She was vending a kind of forest fruit called Kendu in Oriya. They looks like chikoo, but small in size. I wanted to buy them, but Esha denied as she never tasted this kind of forest fruits. She is one of the species out of the new genre who are being curtailed from the roots of the mother nature. I asked the lady to give just one fruit, to which the lady obeyed delightfully. I removed the big seeds it carry inside it and gave the skin-thick little pulp  to Esha to taste. Esha raised her eye-brows and asked the lady forwarding her little hand “aru de” (give more). 


As the train galloped at a higher pace Esha asked her mother “Maam maam banai de”. Her mother prepared the milk bottle for her. While holding it, she caught a sleep on my lap. After two hours our train entered Chattisgarh. Than a boy entered our compartment holding a chain laced monkey. He was collecting money from the passengers. When Esha’s mother embraced its head, the monkey jumped to her lap and set. There was a commotion and Esha waked. Esha wandered who this on her mother’s bosom. She felt unsecured as her space has been occupied by someone else. She shouted “tui ja bhaag, eta mor Ma, mor Ma” (You get lost, Its my mother, my mother). I gave Rs.10/- to that boy and asked to disembark from the train on the very next halt, to which he obeyed. 


At Mahasamund a TT (Train Ticket Collector) came wearing a black coat to inspect our tickets. He occupied the seat # 41. Esha was hesitant to look at the TT wearing an un-friendly black coat. She shouted it’s my seat, you go…. you go…. But the TT smiled at her and asked, “If it is your seat, than show me your ticket”. She told in the school bag she kept lot many tickets of varied sizes. The TT asked, Whose kid is this ? I handed over our ticket and the ID proof to the TT. He verified the ticket and left saying to Esha “Listen girl I could allow you to travel without ticket for another two years, until you turn five years”.

At evening our train reached Raipur. Esha’s grandparents and her Hari Mawa came to station to meet us. Her Hari Mawa gifted her two plastic jars of chocolates. Her trip was fruitful even before reaching the destination. At night on finishing dinner, as a habit she told me lets go up stair and sleep. I asked her, do you think it’s our home at Barpali. But Esha’s pointed her finger towards the upper berth. She wanted to occupy the upper berth so as she can play over there. But I said, “No. It is not safe for youngsters to be there”. She was adamant. While sobbing she caught the sleep.

It might be 12 past midnight I woke-up to go to the loo. I found Esha was seating near the feet of her mother, while her mother was sleeping. I asked Esha, “What is the matter, why don’t you sleep ?”. She said “Shhh……. Am guarding that airbag”. I asked, why ? She said, her   teddy bear is in it, “thief will come and take away”. I comforted her saying, “even the thief went to sleep, it is only you who is awake”. I patted on her back until  she caught the sleep.  

While at home she need to be awake every morning for going to school. But in the train she wake-up herself early next morning, just to play around. Since this train don’t have a pantry-car at Mathura station I got down to buy two plates of lunch. The man on the counter delayed to dispense the change. The train started moving. Esha was watching me from the window. She started shouting “Nana jaldi asa train jauche, train jauche” (Father come fast, the train is moving, its moving). I ran holding two disposable plates carrying food in it. I able to safely enter the compartment. By the time I went to our seat Esha was loudly sobbing “mor Nana rahigala, Nana rahigala” (my father left, my father left), while her mother and the co-passengers were trying to console her. Never before I had seen her either crying or searching for me.

At evening our train reached Nizamudhin Railway Station of New Delhi. Esha’s Karun Chachu came to receive us. We disembarked from the train. Like the rest of the passengers I pulled the luggage, but Esha carried home the rich experience that she gathered from this Ohh Chuck Chuck journey. For next couple of days, she keep on narrating about this train journey to her cousin brothers Jay and Om while at New Delhi.

WhatsApp# +918249314972
kiranbima@gmail.com

E.KIRAN MOHAN(The writter)
 C\o. Dr.E.R.Rao (M.D),
 Tehsil Chowk,
 At\PO – BARPALI – 768 029,
Dist. Bargarh, Odisha, India.  
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Apr 14, 2015

6:14 PM

Ripunath Sahu : Could you make his hand straight !


Ripunath Sahu is a driver of Barpali. Six years back his life shattered when Ripunath met with a devastating accident. He was working as a driver for Dilip Sahu. On 29th December 2008 he was carrying thirteen passengers in a Mahindra Bolero and travelling to Puri. At the dead of the night at around 3.00 AM while the vehicle neared the Jarpada, Boinda railway station it collided head-on with a road side tree. In this mishap six family members of Mani Meher’s family died. Miraculously Ripunath Sahu survived, but by paying a heavy tool for it. Both his legs and left hand were fractured, while the nose was pierced. He was in coma and rushed to the Cuttack Medical College. On getting conscious after three days he was brought to Burla’s V.S.S.Medical College. Over here surgeries were done to his limbs.

He was in the hospital bed for long two months. He did not had either health insurance or the life insurance to meet the contingencies. His employer Dilip Sahu gave only Rs.6,000/-, while the Barpali Taxi Union paid Rs.4,000/-. His brother-in-law contributed  Rs.15,000/- to meet the medical needs. Whereas the actual expenses were somewhere around Rs.1,80,000/-. It tempted his wife Tikeswari Sahu to remove whatever little gold ornaments she was adorned with. She sold the ornaments in the market to raise the funds to meet the immediate medical need.

Even after discharge it took him around two years to recover from that trauma. Though Ripunath survived, but from there the ordeal for his wife Tikeswari began. Ripunath was the sole earning member of the family. Though he is alive, but crippled. He neither possess any other skill to eke out a living. His wife Tikeswari had to take the mantle to manage the livelihood of her family consisting of two young daughters (than 4 years and 1 year), a son (than 6 years old) and this handicapped husband. As she is semi-literate, all she could opted was  vending of vegetables on the streets of Barpali. She used to purchase the fresh vegetables at morning in the Barpali Daily Market. At noon hours she used to carry the stuff in a bamboo basket mounted on top of her head and sell it on the streets of Barpali. She was selling the vegetables moving from door to door to different households mostly in the Canal Colony and Kadlipali. She had to dispose-off the stuff before the sunset as she did not have cold storage facility. A day she manage to earn as little as Rs.50 to Rs.80 (roughly US $ 1). With this meager income she was managing the household of her three children and the handicapped husband. While her brother provided two sacks of rice for survival.

Needless to say, she unable to pay the monthly school fee of her son Jitu Sahu who was then in KG-1 (Kinder Garden). Her son was then attending a private English Medium School in the immediate vicinity by paying a monthly fee of Rs.120/-. And the result the boy was instantly dropped from the school. Instead he went to attend the Government run Upper Primary School at Subhas Nagar to get the free education in Oriya. 
   

Unable to cope with the challenges of the domestic ordeal one day his wife had a spat with Ripunath Sahu. He bashed her and threw out of their home. She left behind her two young daughters (than 4 years and 1 year) and a son (than 6 years old) at home and left to the bosom of her parents at Bariha Pukhapaen. After much trail and tribulations she returned to the fold of her husband and children to resume her domestic life.

They stayed at Andharu Seth garage free of rentals. In the year 2010  Ripunath resumed his work of driving a vehicle. Now he is operating a jeep on lease. He had taken a Mahindra Maxx Lx by paying a monthly rental of Rs.6,000/-. A month he able to earn somewhere Rs.8,000/- to Rs.10,000/-. After paying the lease rent, fuel and upkeepment of the vehicle a month only Rs. 3,000/- to Rs.4,000/- is left over. This little is not enough to support a family of four lives.  At present he is penniless as he is paying house rental of Rs.1,500/- a month, children tuition fee Rs.1,000/- a month and grocery.

Even after six years of that devastated accident Ripunath is having a major physical impediment that restrict him from leading a normal life.  His  left  hand  has been swollen and disfigured. He  immediately need medical attention, but don’t have money to remove the steel rods implanted inside his hand. He seeks financial help of around Rs.75,000/- to undergo the next round of surgery.

Ripunath or Tikeswari could be reached at their Cell # 91-99-375-73076. They can speak either Oriya or Hindi, but no English. He is not a computer literate, so no email id. You may please mail this writer in case you want to provide whatever the little help possible on your part.   
                    
kiranbima@gmail.com
E. KIRAN MOHAN,
C\o. Dr.E.R.Rao (M.D),
Tehsil Chowk,
At\PO – BARPALI – 768 029,
Dist. Bargarh, Orissa, India.
Cell # 91 99 371 20565 
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