The Hindu Business Line : ... Because of Medha Patkar

Medha and with her the poor Indian's tale have ceased to be news. Not that the poor Indian ever figured in the imagination of politicians and babus.

FOR long, Lachman Singh has been wanting to see Medha Patkar, and when she was on her six-day fast at the gates of Mantralaya, the headquarters of the Maharashtra government, one took him. He has read a lot about Medha in the Hindi press, written by those on either side of the Sardar Sarovar dam. But all the writings and the photo close-ups are like counterfeit notes compared to the original.

It was a winter evening last week, and it took some time to spot her in the half-darkness as she lay quietly under a tent with a few tribals sitting around her. The blinking cameras of a few photographers played on her thoughtful face, slicing it into bright and ill-lit pieces. Matching them were her sad eyes beaming the hurts of a long 16-year battle for the living rights of tribals in Madhya Pradesh and Maharashtra, a large part of who have seen their lives sink in the dammed waters of the Sardar Sarovar. She has internalised the tribal anguish and it has left slate-grey thumb impressions on her roughly braided hair.

The single Hall-Bedroom-Kitchen crowd working out of offices in Nariman Point were rushing by to catch the suburban locals and they could not be blamed, as standing around Medha would never help any cause. They had their priorities, like Medha and her tribals. Along with Medha, Kamala didi from Madhya Pradesh, Bhikha Singh Vasawa and Kalu Singh Padvi from Maharashtra were fasting against raising the height of the dam and for some sensitive rehab programme. They were insisting on being left alone in their forest homes, having nowhere else to go. They were not imposing demands unlike the concessions asked for by corporates and backed by a free press. Medha has lost the battle against the dam; now she was fighting to contain the damage inflicted by a parsimonious democracy with a mind for the well-off.

A posse of policemen waited around Medha, her friends and sympathisers fearing the fast turning into fisticuffs. Then somebody whispered, "The Minister is coming." And a white Ambassador with a red crown drove in, and out stepped a Minister, clothed in an all-white shirt and pant, to the shout of slogans from the protesters that sounded like the depressing toll of fire engine bells. With palms folded, he walked towards Medha and squatted with some difficulty in front of her. A government press note was read out which said Maharashtra would not agree to raising the height of the dam till the displaced tribals were housed properly in four months. Medha quietly told the Minister that four months would not be enough.

Medha realises the worth of the words of Ministers, insensitive to everything except their chairs. The Minister offered coconut water to the fasters and the fast ended. The Minister had put off yet another Medha protest by four months, and by that time, the Minister was not sure if he would continue to be a Minister. The cameramen packed their cameras, the journalists their pads and the next day, Lachman vainly searched for a news item on Medha in the top newspapers of Mumbai. Medha — and probably with her the poor Indian's tale — have ceased to be news. Not that the poor Indian ever figured in the imagination of politicians and the armada of babus flaunting ribbons of alphabets with their names like personal possessions.

Lachman Singh has been talking about Medha to his friends when they collect for a cup of tea. His friends cannot believe she is ordinarily clothed and has no jewels. "Kuch gahna pahanti nahin hai (She has no jewels on her)," explains Lachman Singh, and when asked why the lady is protesting relates the sequence of events. "Jaan jaye par vachan na jaye (Life may go but not the promises made)," said Lachman Singh quoting Tulsidas as he was convinced that Medha will not alight from her promises to the tribals. Some suggest the lady has been running the campaign on her own, but that does not diminish the cause. Then someone asked Lachman, "Is elections se kuch pharakh hoga (Will the coming elections make a difference)?" They were referring to Medha's fast as they have heard from their grandfathers and grandmothers that a fast by Gandhiji prised out concessions from the British Raj.

It was while walking back to the office that Gandhiji tapped me on the shoulder and gave a broad, gummy grin. "So what brings you here, Bapu," one asked and he pointed to Medha. "The problem with non-violence and fasts is you never win. You only lose. It could not prevent Partition and will not stop the poor tribals of Medha from being dumped on the edges of some city," said Gandhiji and hobbled away into the darkness.

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... Because of Medha Patkar