What does it take to dream again?

What does it take to dream again? 

When the waves have lashed you up and knocked you out and left you at the seashore and you're nothing but a shell of which the life departed, you know not when. You don't know which course, which turn, which wave you rode that was not meant to be and now you are here - staring blankly at the horizon as your destination seems on the other side of it, imperceptible, lost to you forever. 

What does it take to conjure up even an ounce of energy to take on the sea again, when even your dreams reverberate of the crashing and thrashing and the deep dark depths that you are so afraid of sinking to? 

I read somewhere that every story, to a great extent, works on a similar plot : The protagonist setting out on a personal journey, defeated in a battle in the course of it, improves - gets back on her/his feet, sometimes with a little help from a fairy godmother or a godfather, ultimately wins the bigger war and attains self fulfillment and the happily ever after. 

WELL!

Now I think I know what separates reality from fiction - when it comes to the latter, you know everything will be set all right within the next few pages. You can't say this with any certainty when it comes to life, if you will conquer your tribulations in the next few days, weeks, months or if you'll be stuck in a quicksand of all the things that ache you for the next couple of years!

But the protagonist, in reality or in fiction has got to do what it has got to do!

Sometimes you hit a dead end with an impenetrable wall and keep hitting your head on it, being adamant and thinking you're made of adamantium, absolutely sure that this is the only way to go and not budging till you end up hurting yourself. It might be time for serious course correction!

There are surely better ways to go through the wall than head-butting! Dig up its foundation! Climb up using a ladder! Walk far enough along it and maybe you'll find a door! And maybe, take a hint and turn around - look for new destinations and let your feet take you there!

And when you are tired from working on ways to find your way to the place you think you belong, come away and rest for a while and who knows, a bright shiny new little dream might find a way that leads to you,again.

अदृश्य भारत / Unseen

It was long before this book, “Adrishya Bharat” could move from my huge pile of “To read” books to the “Read” shelf. I had received it as a gift in my first year of college and I was expecting that maybe, it wouldn’t be socially relevant after all this time but going through the book and a little homework afterwards proved to be a rude awakening.

This book, put together by Bhasha Singh, documents the journey she undertook through India during the period of 2005 -2011, bringing to the fore the lives of manual scavengers and how the practice of manual scavenging still thrived, years after The Employment of Manual Scavengers and Construction of Dry Latrines (Prohibition) Act, 1993 was enacted.

The common thread that runs through the book is the description of the inhuman practice of a person carrying human excreta on her head, hence dehumanising her. I specifically use the pronoun ‘her’ because it is observed that apart from the fact that this profession is reserved for people belonging to the lower rungs in the caste hierarchy, there is also the feminisation of it, that is, it is mostly assigned to be executed by women.

As if the work they carry out was not demeaning and dehumanising enough, they are identified solely by their profession and not their names. In fact, authorities at different levels categorically deny the existence of manual scavengers and manual scavenging, claiming that they all have been rehabilitated. Their efforts are directed more towards covering up than working towards the alleviation of people. Called by different names in different parts of the country, manual scavengers are destined to the same fate – oblivion.

The nature of work takes away their chance to a healthy life whereas the social stigma attached to the work, the discrimination faced by the workers snatches away their right to a dignified life. These workers try their best to keep their children from inheriting the profession, trying to educate them but the venom of stigma seeps into the lives of children too. Instances of these children being asked to do odd cleaning jobs at school is common place. They are also discriminated against by other children belonging to other strata of the society. The instances mentioned in the book also reminded me of similar accounts of discrimination I came across while reading Daya Pawar’s autobiography ‘Baluta’. The burden of being born in the lower rung of the society is shouldered by the person throughout his/her life and it pervades through all spheres of the person’s life.

The plight of manual scavengers is aggravated by the fact that they are deeply socially conditioned to accept the work of manual scavenging as their work, they accept it as their lot and are unwilling to leave the pits. They believe that it has always been their source of livelihood and has nourished their families; hence they have an obligation to carry it forward and are committed to the work. They like the certainty of their present and believe that the very system that oppresses them would come to their rescue in troubled times. This blind faith in the system is not unfounded as the opportunities for alternative employment are slim.

The laws are in place, without sufficient teeth but with plenty of loopholes, which end up prosecuting the already oppressed workers instead of correcting the wrong.

The bright spot in this grim reality is that in many regions, the manual scavengers have joined hands to form organisations and political participation is opening a window of freedom for them.

**********************************************************************

Jumping to the present, we see a new found enthusiasm regarding cleanliness, thanks to the Swachh Bharat Abhiyan. So much so that it has found its way to our new currency too. It is peculiar that the burden of uncleanliness and consequently, cleanliness is pushed on the households. The environmental pollution and degradation caused by industries has been totally neglected. The Cleanliness Survey, or the Swachh Sarvekshan lists elimination of manual scavenging as their aim, but that’s about it. The surveys don’t discuss the status of manual scavenging or make it a criterion to rank the areas. The M.S. Act 2013 has been in force for some time now, but hardly any prosecution has been held under it. The practice of manual scavenging continues, in some places under the euphemism of “conservancy work”. Deaths of workers going down in sewers are not a thing of the past and the responsibility for such events is shrugged off as quickly as possible. Compensations are meagre or none. The Indian railway continues to be the largest employer of manual scavengers, though I’m sure they must have their own jargon for it. Wherever the workplace might be, these workers more often than not work without any protective gear. We, as a country, swing between denial of the existence of this draconian practice and reinforcing it. On one hand, screening of the documentary Kakkoos, which captures the lives of manual scavengers, was prohibited in Madurai and on the other hand, a minister from Karnataka put forth the proposal to legalise manual scavenging for “emergency purposes”!

They say a picture tells a story worth a thousand words. I came across this photo essay by Sudharak Owle, capturing the hell the “conservancy workers” go through on a daily basis and I believe I shouldn’t be alone in witnessing this harrowing reality and the guilt for the persistence of this practice should be collective, so here is the link to it:  http://www.galli.in/2013/10/search-dignity-justice-sudharak-olwe.html

There are people and organisations fighting this practice with all their might and working for the rehabilitation for the workers, Bezwada Wilson, the recent recipient of Magsaysay Award and convener of the Safai Karamchari Andolan being one of the prominent ones. Wilson points out that, more than availability for alternate jobs and construction of toilets, there is a need for a shift in the attitudes. 

I hope when the thesis and anti-thesis collide, there will be a resultant synthesis. Maybe there is hope for a better future, for a life of dignity for the manual scavengers. Maybe.