The Hindu Business Line : Of water, smile and strength

Often patience for the "decisive moment" would be adequately rewarded with a memorable image, just like this one, where the girl's smile is, even today, a symbol of hope and cheer.

"It is essential to forget yourself in the presence of the person to be photographed and above all to get them forget you and the camera..."

Henri Cartier- Bresson

The road was anything but a road...the car we were travelling in had just one thing going for it — the engine... and minus the shock absorbers and springs.

The destination was a village in Dharmapuri district, Tamil Nadu — and the assignment a story on bonded labour/utter water scarcity in the area. The weather was hot and humid and we were tired. Our driver had an answer for everything.

Hungry? Eat bananas. Tired? Wash your face with soda water (goli soda, it was called in those days). I must say that it worked! Perhaps we should have put a little soda water into the radiator too. Unfortunately, we did not and the result was that after a little distance there was a cough, a shudder and the engine stalled.

Unfazed the driver uttered the comforting words, "Just a km, sir, you start walking. I will get the car working."

So we walked... the eternal twosome... the reporter and the photographer — in that heat and on the shade less track towards the village. The time was around 3 p.m. and in the distance we saw a few huts but we could see scores of people moving hastily. The destination could be only one place — either a well or a hand pump.

Yes, it was indeed a well and thankfully with some water still left. Many people were already there, mostly women and children with many more coming in. A patient wait with pots of many a size. The only thing heartening was the calm and that look... "Come what may, we will face it."

Dharmapuri is a drought prone area and this village was no exception. Men had gone looking for jobs to neighbouring areas and bonded labour a much talked about tragedy.

The stories here once again came pouring in... unkind natural forces, neglect by officials and that ever-haunting look of moneylenders.

Living in a city, your demands and screams are somehow heard and some relief does come in. But in these far-flung villages the voice becomes feeble and a desperate need for just a morsel of food and more so for just a little water to drink is indeed a big question, which often remains unanswered. Strange, but true... these villagers, however poor they might be, whatever dire needs they might have, they are full of hospitality/humanness.

As we were perched on a stone surrounded by many, a thoughtful hand extended a tiny pot of water. "You must be thirsty and tired."

Their warmth and kindness touched a cord within.

I saw a young girl with a huge pot. I could not help asking. "Do you think you will be able to get that much of water?"

"I hope so," she replied shyly, adding, "Yesterday was a bad day but I hope I will get some water today."

"But that is such a big pot and even if you get water how will you be able to carry it?"

"Oh! I can. In fact I can carry two...one on my head and one held to my waist." Just a teenager... there is strength in her voice.

"How long you will have to wait?"

"Maybe an hour... the others were here earlier. But I have to get back to the hut before the sun sets," says the girl.

My colleague is tired and wants to return to the lodge as quickly as possible. But the car is nowhere in sight. And I have made up my mind to see how this little girl will manage with that big pot. I pray she gets that water.

This story is of late 1970s. Maybe things have changed. But it is only a hope, but a hope lacking in depth. Even in 2003, the stories keep pouring in of drought/famine and scores of farmers committing suicide. Did someone say the country has enough resources and many billions of dollars in our foreign exchange reserves?

The car is still not seen. My friend is getting nervous. And I keep on looking at the well and the girl.

The sun already has a tinge of orange. And at last, it is the girl's turn to draw the water. Many a length of coir rope goes into the well. She draws and draws many a time with a small pot to fill the big one.

And there! It is full! Women around the well help lift and place the brass vessel on the girl's head.

It happens, as Henri Cartier- Bresson, the great photographer would say, "the decisive moment." The girl, with the pot perfectly balanced, taking a step towards the village turns at me... and smiles.

And that smile to me was on that day, and even today, a symbol of hope and cheer.

We see at a distance the car coming.

Article E-Mail :: Comment :: Syndication

Stories in this Section
The Chinese factor

Winning hearts

A blissful weekend

Of water, smile and strength

The ride is less bumpy

Family burden, no more!

Hope for a better future

Flying to the US on September 11

Designing by the bagful

A little wisdom and lots of ice...