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The toughest Fellowship program in India invites dedicated individuals of Indian origin who are willing to challenge themselves to serve with humility and pride. If you are ready to test your mettle, your worth, your purpose, come apply. Are you ready to put all you have got on the line? We are looking for individuals who can shoulder multiple responsibilities with excellence. Individuals, who can relentlessly invest, immerse and embrace communities.

Can you bathe in murky brown water for two years and not complain?

Can you accept a recalibrated intensity and meaning of pain?

Can your purpose stay intact despite loss of weight and hair?

Can you remain calm when you face a glare?

Can you stay in the zone when everything else is falling apart?

Can you hold your flag when the wind is blowing hard?

Can you stand tall when your knees take a hit?

Can you accept the pace of growing bit by bit?

If the answer to all the above questions is a yes, come let the Indicorps Fellowship pose many more. Come only if you are ready to test the depths of your core, your existence. This program will shape you as much as you allow it to. The Fellowship provides the opportunity for passionate, sincere individuals of Indian origin to become strong team players and leaders to build sustainable initiatives. Indicorps aims to inspire a shift in the way people approach change. We strive to nurture leaders with principle — those who produce ideas and solutions rather than consume opportunities and experiences.   Value-based simple living, internal motivation, transparency in action, and an understanding of the intangibles strengthen this change in perspective.

For the Indicorps 2012 Fellowship, we have 26 projects that are based in Andhra Pradesh, Bihar, Chattisgarh, Delhi, Gujarat, Himachal Pradesh, Karnataka, Maharashtra, Orissa, Tamil Nadu and Uttarakhand. Fellows will become involved in development themes such as agriculture, community based rehabilitation, education, entrepreneurship, environmental conservation, health, livelihoods, women’s empowerment, youth empowerment, etc.

You can find the Indicorps 2012 Fellowship application here apply.indicorps.org

Keep in touch with Indicorps – To learn more, visit our website, friend us on Facebook: Indicorps Seva, follow us on Twitter & Check out our Youtube Channel

The people of the Kattunayaka community have inhabited the rain forests of Nilgiri for centuries. They were mainly hunters and gatherers and over the years have mastered the art of extracting the best quality of honey from the forest. Chellan’s parents worked in the newly set up gold mines during advent of British in the region. They also extracted gold ore from a river in the forest and exchanged it for food materials with the various non-tribal communities, not knowing the worth of gold as a commodity. This is one of the several ways in which the tribal communities were victimized and exploited.

Instances of interaction of the tribal community with the outside world, however, was rare. The tribal community was still largely apprehensive of the other non-tribal people and extremely feared by their presence. So much that at the slightest sight of an outsider the tribals would go into hiding and remain out of sight for hours following that. Thus, the Kattunayaka community largely stayed aloof, cut off from the outer world.

Chellan’s generation was the first to have a regular interaction with the outside world to fulfill their day to day needs and to expand their livelihood options. At the age of eighteen Chellan with a few other tribe members began to work in tea estates for four annas (25 paise). However, these menial jobs provided meager income. Hence, they procured the various forest products like honey, herbs and most importantly a particular kind of leaf used to pack food products to the local market for sale, making a small profit hardly sufficient for a proper survival.

The community however, faced the most difficult crisis when a Chennai based businessman forcefully encroached their tracts of land to establish a tea estate. Gradually as the tea estate expanded Chellan and his community too were pushed further and further towards the edges of their own land within their settlement. Ultimately the estate owner threatened to set fire to the settlement of the community if they did not entirely vacate the land. Following this the Kattunayakan people, out of no other option were forced to move out of their Taravadu (ancestral land).

Evicted out of their own land, the Kattunayakan community moved to the riverside to form a new settlement. But their survival was threatened even there, this once not by the human forces, but by the gigantic elephants of the Nilgiri rain forests. The wild beasts often marched into their riverside settlements destroying their shelter and other means of living. Having no other alternative, the tribe started to take shelter in the caves situated further uphill.

It was only at this point that the Kattunayakan community saw a ray of hope. The supervisor of the nearby Devanagri estate brought this condition of the tribe to the attention of R. S. Ranganathan who had deep concerns about the position of the various primitive tribal clans for a long time. With no other option left to safeguard the group, Ranganathan tried to convince Chellan to persuade his people to migrate from the caves. Ranganathan provided the devastated community with monetary support to rebuild their huts and to fulfill other basic necessities. However, the problem posed by the frequent movement of elephants in the area still persisted, which kept chasing the Kattunayakan communities back to the caves for safety.

In 1999 Chellan and his wife Shanta along with a few other families were allotted proper houses constructed by CTRD. As part of the livelihood programme the community was trained in tea cultivation and provided with basic capital and other basic requirements. Due to these interventions the community has managed to reach a decent economic position and have been able to secure their survival. Over the years Chellan and the other tribe members have gained immense confidence and are fairly aware of their rights. Today, the community stands strong against any form of exploitation and victimization.

Today, Chellan sitting in his front porch recalls the journey of his tribe from the deep and dense forests to the lush green tea gardens he now owns. Chellan along with two families of his kin group own five acres of land devoted to tea plantation, which they look after together and share the income generated out of it. As per Chellan the cultivation produces at least 90 kg of tea per month on an average, which leads to a fair surplus to all the three families. Today the group has acquired fair knowledge of the market values of their products. They have grown to be very alert and confident while dealing with others. There have been minor transformations in their cultural practices too. Chellan and his wife have adopted Christianity as their religion, leaving behind the traditional animism they subscribed to for centuries. Though Chellan does not have any children, he did aspire to educate his future generation.

Thus, Chellan and his tribe have made a long and trying journey to arrive at their present position. They thrived against all the odds and today have reached a point where they assert their voice and rights in society. Undoubtedly, Chellan and his community have emancipated themselves in remarkable ways. His example has been an inspiration for other tribal clans which come from the same economic and social background as he did.

Article written by Grassroutes Fellow, Swati P.V who was mapped to Center for Tribal and Rural Development situated deep in the Nilgiri district. Swati worked on documenting the impact of housing projects implemented by the host NGO across numerous tribal belts.

Pic: Chottu with his Tea Stall

Chhotu Dabai’s life epitomizes simplicity in all terms. He owns only two sets of traditional clothes, a worn out shoe and a Sanfa (a type of turban made from a long piece of cloth by wrapping around the head). But what makes his personality even more interesting is his ghumti chai ki dukan (a movable tea stall) with a very noble objective behind its existence. Wherever Chhotu sets up his tea shop, he treats that place as his home, which means he sweeps all around the area to keep it clean, plants trees all around his shop and nurtures them till they show some significant growth. He also maintains some 10-12 Chinkas (lower half of earthen pots or small plastic tubs hung on trees for providing water to the birds) around his stall. Chhotu’s rather considerate way of life has not only made the village cleaner and ecologically sustainable but has also developed a sense of community work and peaceful co-existence with nature among other villagers, a sort of mini Green Revolution. This selfless service continues as long as it takes for Chhotu to transform yet another surrounding into a beautiful miracle. When he is sure that the trees he planted and the birds sheltered will continue to flourish in the care of the other villagers, he moves his ghumti chai ki dukan to a different place and works his magic all over again. Chhotu’s contribution becomes evident when one takes into account the past two decades of sincere hard-work and affection that Chhotu has harboured for Mother Nature, covering most of the village in his endeavour, and planting thousands of trees.

Being part of a well-to-do joint family of 28 members does not provide him any sort of peace of mind. It’s the joy of serving Mother Nature that keeps him going. But it’s not always been easy. When he started off, Chhotu was one of the earning members of his family. His family wanted him to be more profit-oriented like the rest of them rather than an environmental hero. As a young man, they wanted him to go to the city and lead a better life. But Chhotu was determined to stay in his village and make it a better place to live. He tried desperately to make them understand his thought process and way of life, but much of it went in vain. Even the villagers thought he had gone crazy. But he was eventually accepted for his views and practices by his people as they saw the fruits borne by his efforts. Not only was his family on his side now, but Chhotu Dabai also earned the respect of the other villagers through his dedication and good deeds.

Ramkaran Singh, another fifty year old villager, shares an interesting insight about the perception that the village had of Mr. Daban, and how it has changed over time. “Chhotuji ka kaam pehle ajeeb lagta tha. Wo gobar uthate, ped lagate aur us dauran chai ki dukan par koi nahi hota tha. Par aaj hum sabko unke prayason pe naaz hai.” (Initially we found Chhotu’s work to be a little weird. He used to collect cow dung, plant trees and nobody would attend to his shop during that period. But, today we are all proud of his efforts.)

The seeds which Chhotu Dabai sowed single-handedly have now thousands of hands nurturing them. He listened to his inner voice and stayed in the village to open his ghumti chai ki dukan and is more than content to have made that decision. Today, he has extended his duty from his dukan to generating awareness among the villagers about the benefit of living in harmony with nature. He asks them to treat trees and birds as their own children and nature as their mother. His efforts have led to the plantation of numerous Peepal, Sheesham, Desi Babool, Neem, Bar trees and positioning Chinkas on these trees all across the village, providing a new lease of life to the village of Laporiya.

Article written by Grassroutes Fellow, Pankaj Kumar, who was mapped to GVNML in Rajasthan. Pankaj worked on designing  rainwater harvesting techniques across Laporiya and Tonk districts that the NGO serves.

For the Quantitative approach, fellows filled out a detailed questionnaire covering various aspects of their fellowship which we then collated into 4 categories (See picture below). The statistics tell a remarkable tale of how much each fellows perspective, opinion and mindset has been enhanced through the course of 4 weeks.

While numbers present a broad insight, we wanted to explore the impact in greater depth. Each fellow was given the opportunity to write an Impact report which provided the freedom to express their thoughts, experiences, observations in a subjective manner. We are currently working on profiling impact stories of each fellow. While that provides a detailed account, we have picked snippets from each of the impact reports that can be viewed here. The list will be updated regularly.

For some fellows the road trip was a career changing experience, while for some it showcased the harsh realities of rural India. For some, it was a foundation for further introspection and study and in this way the fellowship has provided a holistic sensitizing experience.

We look forward to sharing each of the impact stories and welcome your feedback!

It was that time of the year again for the youth of this country to be a part of an extraordinary journey. A journey that takes them deep in to rural India to work with rural organisations; to discover the change maker within; to explore and discover new places; to don the role of a social journalist documenting stories of hope, innovation, passion, development, entrepreneurship at the grassroots level.

The blog post summarizes the 2011 edition of the Grassroutes Fellowship Program and establishes the road map leading into the 2012.

Prelude

Grassroutes in 2010 witnessed 16 fellows being mapped to 6 rural organisations. The vision for 2011 was set. We wished to scale our impact manifolds and create value across a larger section of youth. We aimed to facilitate 40 fellows and work with 20 grassroots level rural organisations. With concentrated efforts from volunteers and Grassroutes members, there were 23 rural organisations that were set to be host organisations for the 2011 edition.

Furthermore, a concentrated effort was made to design projects to ensure fellows would create tangible impact in the community they served. In all, there were 50 projects to choose from across 8 sectors.

At Grassroutes, we are privileged to have worked with such inspirational oranganisations. We hope to have a continuous and prosperous engagement with our host organisations moving into 2012.

Grassroutes is all about the fellows

Grassroutes is indeed all about the fellows. There is nothing more joyful and rewarding than to hear about each fellow’s experiences and personal transformations. Each edition, we strive to facilitate the best and the most deserving candidates among hundreds of applicants.

The 2011 edition witnessed the largest number of applications where-in we received close to 1500 applications. Diversity is single strong point of the application drive. We witnessed applications coming from across the country, individuals from varied backgrounds.

It was a pleasure and a challenge to assess and select the best applicants. At the end of the selection process, 51 candidates were selected to be a part of the fellowship program.

Day Zero – When Great Minds Collide

It’s the day that all of Grassroutes waits for. Day Zero – The selected fellows gather together for a unique two day orientation program aimed at giving the fellows a deep understanding of what to expect and what our expectations are w.r.t the fellowship program. It’s also a great platform for fellows to interact with each other, share their perspectives and learn.

Day Zero for the 2011 edition witnessed high levels of interaction among fellows and with social sector practitioners who addressed the fellows sharing their life stories and work. Among the speakers were Dev Tayde, Indi Corps Fellowship ; Vishal Talreja, Dream a Dream ; Aarti Mohan, The Alternative; Arun Patre, Acara Institute & Arghyam ; Srijan, Ujjivan and Habeeb, Arghyam.

This was followed by an engaging panel discussion with ex-fellows from Grassroutes sharing their experiences. The two day event ended with the fellows departing to their respective host NGO’s with countless memories and stories to share.

What’s in store heading into 2012?

At Grassroutes, success of the fellowship is measured by analyzing the impact on the fellow. With each fellow documenting their journey through articles, photo essays and short videos, the Grassroutes team has the privilege to showcase all the media content starting from November. We will also be showcasing personal impact stories of Grassroutes fellows to get a deeper understanding of the impact the fellow has had on the society and vice versa.

The stories are aimed to inspire a larger community into taking action, to think, to introspect, to finding the change maker within. We welcome you to participate in constructive discussions on all our social media platforms!

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Mahila Vikas Sangh (MVS), based in Meora (Uttarakhand), is paragon for Self Help Groups (SHGs) which aspire to empower women across rural India. A walk through this village of 55 households can be surprising for those who think that all that rural women do is milk cows and cook food. Here, not only do they excel at household work, but actively participate in planning and executing developmental works in the village.

This is the story of Mrs. Mohini Bisht, a strong leader for the women of Meora and her journey towards building a sustainable movement for women.

Born in the early 1950s, Mohini’s father was very keen to educate his daughter. She was one of the two girls attending junior school. She says, “Education equips one to distinguish between right and wrong. This breeds responsible behavior and motivates people to change what’s wrong around them.” She remembers her mother, other women and her friends leaving for work in the fields early in the day as she got ready to go to the school. She wanted her friends to join her, but wasn’t allowed to question the elders. She dropped out of school after 5^th grade and got married at the age of 15. Her husband, who was 21 at the time of the marriage, chose Mohini due to her educational background. He says, “We always jointly took decisions pertaining to our family, be it children’s education or buying property”, with a sense of pride on his face. For the next six years she lived in Mumbai, Delhi, Jhansi and Assam. She was amazed by the independence of the urban women she saw - be it their dressing sense or their status in the society. She sensed the need to replicate this in her village so that women may be at par with men.

Mohini realized that her dream could only come true if she began by changing herself. She says “I realized nothing could be achieved until someone took a stand against the prevalent practices of those days.” Her husband supported her in undertaking this endeavor. She began by talking to the village elders (panch), trying to bring to their notice the condition of women in the village, the high rates of maternal mortality, female foeticide and other problems. “But how could those who never allowed their daughters-in-law to take charge, lead change in this regard?” she says. Though they pledged their support, nothing much could be accomplished. She understood that it would be better to educate other women in the village instead. She faced tough resistance from other villagers as she tried to organize a campaign to educate women about their rights. “The then sarpanch ji (village head) paid my husband a visit and asked him to convince me to stop my campaign. But this only boosted my determination”.

At the same time, the Government of India was in the process of forming Mahila Mangal Dals (Village based Women Welfare Groups) across Indian villages. Though she liked the concept of an all women group, the fact that the coordinator was male led her to believe that the model would fail. And it did eventually, with no fruitful meeting being organized for an entire year. Even though it failed as an organization, Mahila Mangal Dal was successful in infecting a few other women. Mrs. Munni Bisht, who has been working with Mohini for the past two decades says, “I was glad to get in touch with Mrs. Mohini during those days. With the sort of convincing power she possessed, two sessions with her was all that was required to win over our hearts.”

Mohini capitalized on this opportunity and got in touch with few other like-minded women to begin their committee exclusively for women. They ran an unofficial body for the first three years. The members, women aged between 18 and 35, would meet monthly to discuss about women and child healthcare, education, forestry and other issues. As more members started pouring in, Mohini decided to get the body registered at Nainital, Uttarakhand. They named it Mahila Vikas Sangh. Mohini was elected the first head of this body. They started running campaigns within and outside the village to protest against domestic violence, female foeticide and other such evils. Uma Krishnan, the then Director of Chirag, a NGO based in Uttarakhand, decided to help transform MVS into a Self Help Group. “Funds used to be a major hurdle for us in the initial years. I’m thankful to Uma for guiding us.”

Mohini, Uma and the other ladies prepared a list of developmental work to be undertaken in the village. Members pooled in money for funding these activities. Forestry and healthcare was their priority. Mohini was elected as Meora’s first “Swasth Sevika” (Health Inspector). She actively played that role for 15 years, educating the villagers about personal hygiene and getting toilets built.

Even the village elders now accept that Mohini has brought about a sea change in the health scenario in the village. The incidence of jaundice, diarrhea and other disease has reduced drastically. In 1997, she got elected as the first female Sarpanch, Head of Van Panchayat, of Meora. With the active involvement of all the women, Mohini initiated large scale tree and fodder plantation on the community land. Mohini proudly displays the trophy that she was recently awarded for developing the best community land in Ramgarh block.

From preparing the family budget to selling their produce to the market, more and more women have entered domains which were male dominated till recently. Today, she has succeeded in providing all the women in the village a platform to express their opinion, to raise their voice and to be heard. She’s busy helping women from other villages to setup similar SHGs. Lata di, a member of MVS says, “Today, my husband takes pride in my achievements. Though I was brought up in an atmosphere of male dominance, I’m happy that my daughter won’t.”

Mohini’s endeavors have ensured that the movement will never freeze, and those touched by her ideas will be empowered, enable others to sense the change and be changed themselves.

Editorial Note: In the multidimensional approach to development, the empowerment of women is considered crucial. Financial freedom to women within the household has shown to be favorable to family and in particular child health and education. Women in the public sphere have the capacity to galvanize political processes and a balanced female-male sex ratio reduces crime.

Women such as Mohini Bisht show us that indeed liberating women can improve the fabric of a rural community. The rise of SHGs in this regard is encouraging but requires more careful study, support and structure.

Lost in Music: Hari Govindan sings a traditional “Sopana Sangeetham” for us.

“Right now there are a lot of concrete structures here. But I want the art to make this place come alive”, says Hari Govindanan the founder of a Kala Ashram, in the small village of Angadippuram in the Palghat district of Kerala. Surrounding the ashram are small buildings, all dedicated to the teaching and performance of music. Far from the hustle and bustle of the town center, this is an ideal place for art to flourish. And that is what Hari thought when he established this kala ashram here in the memory of his father.

Hari Govindan’s life is one filled with music. From the age of five, he had followed his father, the late Njaralath Ramapoduval, as a helper. Ramapoduval was one of the foremost exponents of Sopana Sangeetham, a traditional temple music style of Kerala. A song is sung, with the percussion instrument Idakka accompanying it, when the doors of the sanctum sanctorum are closed between pujas. Apart from being a stellar musician Njaralathu was a man ahead of his time.

“Sopana Sangeetham was sung only in the temple at specific times, until my father started performing it outside the temple to spread the art to the masses. He had a concept that nature itself is the Sreekovil (sanctum sanctorum), and god is omnipresent, so one can perform anywhere. Of course, he faced a lot of opposition from the temple authorities who did not want this to happen. But my father was not bothered. Without fighting with anyone he just went on performing for others,” says Hari.

Hari learnt Sopana Sangeetham while watching his father perform. Njaralathu wasn’t the kind of person to sit and teach people his art. A Bohemian in the true sense of the word, his music was his liquor, and his spirit was elevated when he sang. If there was just one interested person who wanted to listen to his music, Njaralathu would gladly oblige. “Before his last stage performance, his instruments were ready, when suddenly a baby went and touched his Idakka. Just for that child he sang for half an hour. And of course he was late for the performance. He was the sort of spirit you couldn’t control.”

“Artists are not supposed to go to temples, because their art should be their God. Just like my father I also faced opposition when I started performing outside the temples, so I built my own temple.” Hari’s effort has been to create a place where artists can come without any formalities and distinctions, and do what they do best, create music. In the ashram there is an Idakka Kalari, a classroom for students to learn the Idakka. There is another building, a temple, in which the only idol is, fittingly, an Idakka.

Kerala society is rich with art, but according to Hari there is discrimination between the creamy arts, which are Kathakali and Mohiniyattam, and the real Kerala music. “Kerala music is not Carnatic music. It is the totality of all the village music in Kerala, which is not getting the recognition it deserves. The creamy art forms get all the media attention and help, and the traditional vocal styles of Kerala are losing out. My effort is to get these artists the proper remuneration, so that they can continue to practice their art.” The road has not been easy. Hari has had to struggle against the authorities, who in typical political style, try to take the credit for what he has done. But he hopes to take a big step with a music festival, the Kerala Sangeeta Ulsavam, which was scheduled to be held in August 2010* in memory of his father.

“It is an opportunity for the traditional vocal artists of Kerala, to come together and perform on a single stage. I have managed to get some funding from the government, but it is a pittance, compared to the amount of money artists who perform at festivals get.”

In an unheard of act, Hari left a job as an English teacher in a private school, to follow his art full time. “There are a lot of people to represent the teaching profession, but there are less than fifty Sopana Sangeetam artists in Kerala. As an artist myself, I consider it my Dharma to promote my art, and to help artists like me. That is what I have put as my aim.”

We ask him if he can sing for us. Like a true artist, he obliges readily and lapses into a roller coaster ride of a song.

I listen mesmerized, as he amazes me and my companions with his vocal range. The song slows down, and then speeds up, and then slows down again, and it is hard for us not to clap with the song. His face is a visage of peace as he sings. When he finishes, we are at a loss for words. Thankfully, he starts off explaining the song.

As we get up to leave, Hari offers to let us stay at his place over the night. “If you are interested we can stay here tonight, and sing and dance and make music.” Sadly we have to refuse, as we have another trip planned early in the morning next day. This Ashram is one that truly resonates with the sound of music.

*Post was drafted in May 2010.

Always busy: Devagi works with coconut leaves whenever she has free time.

Devagi, aged about 50, gets up at 5 A.M. and walks across the village to collect fallen coconut tree leaves. She rushes back by 7 A.M. to send her 3 kids to school. She then has to draw water from the public taps before it runs out, have a quick breakfast and then sit down to make roofs and fences for houses, with all the coconut tree leaves that she has collected. It does not end there. She then has to leave for construction work at a nearby site. So, she makes the basic structures and leaves the rest of the work for the night. This is Devagi’s ideal morning.

Every day, on my way to work, with the NGO Vayali in Kerala, I would pass by her house and see her making these structures. Even at night when I would get back, she would be sitting under the pale yellow street light, making coconut leaf fences and roofs. I told myself that I must sit down one day and talk to her about her work.

The next day, as I approach her house with my guide Sujil Kumar, as usual, I see her busy at work. She doesn’t look up till Sujil tells her the purpose of my visit. She says, “You are lucky, I don’t have construction work today. We can talk for as long as you want.” I was glad to hear that as I sat down on the ground in front of her house to interview her about herself.

Ranganathan: Where do you get the energy from to do so much work?

Devagi: (Laughs). I have been doing this for the last 28 years. I am used to it.
R: What are you making from coconut tree leaves? What is it used for?

D: I make simple fences for houses. The fencing is usually meant to keep the animals out of their farms. Houses without farms also use it as a general fence. I also make roofs out of coconut tree leaves for houses with clay roofing. This is an additional measure to stop rainwater seeping in through the roofs.

R: From where did you learn to make these things?

D: A lady used to make these things in the village about 30 years ago. I used to visit her house and she taught me how to make it.

R: Where do you source the leaves from?

D: There are a few generous people who allow me to collect them from their coconut tree every morning, while others charge for it. I pay a rupee for every big leaf I take.
Sometimes I collect fallen coconut tree leaves but they are dry and cannot be made into strong roofs or fences. So, I prefer to pay and pull out fresh leaves.

R: How long does it take to make a fence/roof?

D:  In a month I make around 200 of them. For every big leaf I can make two roofs or two fences. So the ratio works out fine.

R: How much do you sell them for? Is it your primary source of income?

D: I sell each for Rs. 7. For people I know, I sometimes give it for free or reduce the price since some of them have given me their leaves for free. This is not my primary source of income. I do construction work which pays me more. Making coconut leaf roofs and fences gives me an alternate income. If I manage to sell all 200 of them it gives me Rs 1400 out of which Rs 200 or so is my input cost. So I can manage the expenses for the house with the money I make.

R: What are the challenges that you are facing?

D: Previously, many people used to buy these roofs and fences from me. But now, since their houses are all modern, they don’t buy them anymore. This also forces me to reduce my price. Some of the houses continue to buy from me just because they know me for a long time and that encourages me to make more. They may not be using it for its intended purpose but they are doing it to help me and that is fine for me.

By this time not only has Devagi finished answering the questions but simultaneously finishes two structures for a fence and a roof. Just as I decide to leave, I see Devagi’s mother in law who is 85 years old and really weak, carrying two buckets of water from a nearby tap. Those sights make me sit down and ask more questions.

R: Do you have access to power and water?

D: No. No power. We have to collect water from public taps or people’s houses. I usually do it but today my mother in law is doing it since I am talking to you. You get water from the public taps only for an hour a day. So we need to get at least two buckets before it runs out. We do not have money to build our own well.

R: Why have you not been able get water or power while the other houses have?

D: Because this house is not permanent, though we have been living here for a long time, we do not have a property right over the land and the revenue department now claims it’s their land. But I am not willing to move. Hence they have not given us any basic amenities.Now we are used to it, we don’t see it as a big burden. My children use a candle and the street light (points to a bulb attached to a stick next to the house) to read/write.

R: What is your family size? What do they all do?

D: We are five members. I have two sons and a daughter. My eldest son just finished class 12 while the younger one is in Class 10 and my daughter is in Class 8. My mother in law stays in a small house next to ours. My husband died a few years back.
As I thank her for her time and apologize for disrupting her schedule, I realize how much the alternate income means to the family. They need to feed three kids, fund their schooling and also manage the house. It was a wonderful experience to talk to Devagi who was upfront in her answers and always smiled at the end of her answer.

As I begin to walk to office, Devagi picks up another leaf starts work on her roof/fence.

A man of ideas, Kishen Da constantly experiments with his crops and farming techniques

“Why has ‘Chirag’ given a Chaff cutter to the Sarpanch and not to me,” asked Mohan Da, a farmer based in Chaukhuta, a small village in Uttarakhand, India. Being a volunteer with ‘Chirag’ (an Uttarakhand based NGO) for less than a week, I struggled to come up with a suitable reply. A voice from behind came to my rescue, “Chirag tries to find solutions to our common problems, not answer them for all of us,” it said. The wise man introduced himself as Kishen Da.

As our interaction progressed, I came to realize that Kishen Da was a man of ideas- a crusader to promote self-reliance in this small mountain-village. In conducting my survey for evaluating the impact of Chirag’s Integrated Fodder and Livestock Development Program, I would come across 5-6 families daily, who would complain about Chirag not providing them free installments of either a chaff cutter or a gobar gas plant. Kishen Da was clearly different. He wasn’t involved in any of the Chirag run programs in the village, had never been given a chaff cutter or a compost pit or tree saplings. But instead of complaining, he thanks Chirag for starting large scale plantations on community lands and providing farmers with nutritious fodder grasses to be grown on private lands.

Kishen Da was born in the late 1950’s. His father, a teacher in a Primary School, instilled in him the desire to learn as much as possible by observing things. Being the brightest in primary school, his father sent him to Haldwani to study further. He eventually dropped out after 10th Grade. The untimely death of his father, forced him to quit his job in Haldwani (the closest urban settlement) and return to Chaukhuta, his native village. Being the eldest among three brothers, he chose to stay back and look after the family. “I was forced to practice agriculture. We had 5 hectares of land and farming was the major source of income,” he explained. “During those days all that farmers cultivated was cereals, most of which was consumed by the family itself. Taking the produce to Haldwani was close to impossible and not economical. Neither did the farmers get enough for their produce nor were they aware of crops which could give them better returns.”

It was in this setting that Kishen Da decided to innovate and think out-of-the-box. Despite the popularity of chemical fertilizers after the green revolution, Kishen Da wanted to sow his land organically and preserve the long-term productivity of the soil. But soon he realized, that the produce from his fields could not match, in quantity, to that of others who had started using fertilizers. Instead of giving up, he adopted a whole new strategy and began cultivating vegetables, a practice extremely unusual for the hills at that time. With a decent road network in place, transportation was not an issue. “I used to pay frequent visits to an agricultural research center in Ranikhet and tried out certain varieties of cauliflower and tomato.” With great enthusiasm I sowed the seeds. “My friends used to mock at me for trying out such things. Even my mother used to think that I would be wasting a season,” he recalled. But within a year, his returns had raised much above the other farmers. Roop Singh, his neighbor says, “We were astonished by the quantity of vegetables he’d harvested. Kishen’s perseverance had brought him great rewards.”
While animal husbandry caught up as a trend in this village, Kishen Da realized that fodder shortage would be the next big problem. Though a dairy, which was set up in a nearby village assured of decent returns, villagers had to buy fodder from faraway places. “Many of the farmers thought buying more milk yielding breeds would increase their income. But managing livestock became a big problem.”

Tiwari, a local dweller says, “Although I had three deshi (locally bred) cows, I spent Rs. 15000 to buy a Jersey cow (an imported breed). But shortage of fodder forced me to sell two of the deshi cows.”

Kishen Da bought a few nutritious grass varieties from the Agricultural Research Centre in Almora and Nainital. “I didn’t have much land to plant these grasses. Hence I decided to develop a plot of community land to for this purpose,” he recalls. While others paid hefty sum to buy fodder and cattle feed from outside, Kishen Da attained self sufficiency. His income from sale of milk outpaced other famers’ income. Soon, many in the village followed his lead. This also resulted in preserving community lands. Bheem Da remembers, “Kishen used to get these exotic variety of grasses and would ask us to try planting it. We were initially hesitant, but his results motivated us to plant them. I used to spend Rs. 3000 annually on purchasing fodder. Now it has come down to Rs. 500.”

Be it feeding animals their fodder in the most efficient way or using drip irrigation, Kishen Da believes in taking risks to explore newer and more effective way of doing things. “Once I planted an American variety of peach, which got destroyed by untimely rain.” Not that he always succeeds, but the determination to do things differently has kept him going. He believes that most farmers tend to think of immediate profits without pondering over the future.

He proudly shows me the plantations where he is currently working on making pesticides out of cow urine. “I always wish to be a step ahead of others,” he says. With all the farmers cultivating fruits, he has plans to start tea cultivation. From American apples to Jatropha, he is trying it all.

Think about this – you have a lovely house and a great community around it. All your life you have lived in the same place. Suddenly, one day a few strangers along with a government official come and tell you that you will have to leave your house and land. They tell you that they have made new flats for everyone in your community, but you must give up your old home and land. They offer you some money for your land and they tell you that you can take it and leave happily. Otherwise, they will not give you the money and they will take your land by force anyway. You can’t go to the government as they themselves have come to you with these strangers for your land.

This summer, I took a road-trip to a remote tribal area in the Vishakhapatnam district of Andhra Pradesh and for the first time I came face-to-face with the contentious saga of displacement and the displaced.

Let me start from the beginning. The first person we met on our road trip was Mr. Reddy from Anrak Aluminum Limited, a mining company from the United Arab Emirates (UAE). The company was situated in a Special Economic Zone (SEZ). This was my first visit to a SEZ. Our guide from Samata, the NGO I was volunteering with, Mr. Maki Reddy, told us that SEZs are like independent countries within our country. “The SEZs have their own rules and regulations, sometimes giving them exceptions from our normal Indian laws”.

The SEZ constructed by the Government for the industry, to include an Aluminum refinery, a thermal power plant & a product manufacturing plant.

We had to pass long stretches of fields and barren land to finally get to the company refinery, and when we reached the refinery it was very hot as all the trees and greenery in that area was felled. It was an air-conditioned office not unlike the ones in our big cities. The office seemed incongruous in its barren isolated surroundings.

We asked Mr. Reddy various questions on how Anrak was planning to take care of the people who are being displaced and how it can make sure that they are able to find employment. “We are giving employment to most of the people in the village. They are given labour work and if they have a driver’s license we are giving them work as a driver. The women will be given work as office maids”. He told us how Anrak was giving them four lakh rupees per acre and an additional 50 thousand rupees. He then told us about how he was holding open office hours every day so that these affected people could directly come and talk to him about their problems pertaining to the displacement. Most of what he said seemed as if he was doing the best he could to make sure the people are happy and employed. After an hour long talk with him we came out of the office happy with what we found out.

Women are left without any options after the displacement.

However, to get a holistic view we had to talk to the people and to the government. And so we inquired at the nearby village which was going to be displaced in the near future. The first thing I saw when I went into the village was five villagers taking down leaves from the roof of a house. Few sat chatting idly. At eleven in the morning, I wondered why they were not in the fields working. “Most of us have not been given jobs, even though our children have studied up to the undergraduate level, and even then they have not been employed by the company,” said the villagers in Makavaripalam Mandal.

Compensation is still yet to come for the farm land they have already lost to the factory. They have not been allowed to enter the company, let alone go to Mr. Reddy’s open office hour sessions. Jobs have only been given to a few boys in the village who knew how to drive.

Hoping for some clarity on the issue, we went to the Mandal Revenue Officer (MRO) of the village. He said, “The Company has given some jobs to the people who are going to be displaced by the refinery, but if they don’t have the required qualification why will they take them?”

With three different contradicting accounts of how the displaced are compensated after their land was taken, it was difficult to get at the bottom of the issue. But in a world where resources are scarce and in a country where money speaks, it’s not hard to surmise in whose favor the balance of power is tilted.

A meeting with the MRO provided no satisfactory answers.

As you read this, Makavaripalam and its neighbouring villages are losing 2600 acres of farmland and an additional thousand acres comprising water bodies and barren land to the mining company. Farmers from Rajpalli and Koderu villages have also lost their lands and a few houses to this refinery. Right now the government officials and company workers are working on evacuating Kottapalem, a village with 613 people and 150 houses. The displaced also lose resources like forests on which they depend for medicines, spices, wild fruits and wood. They lose grazing land for their cattle.

A survey of these villages shows their main source of livelihood is agriculture, and a few people are day-wage labourers. In Venkatapuram, 20 houses were demolished to build the refinery. The villagers used to grow sugar cane, mangoes, and tomatoes. But now since their lands have been taken away, they are all unemployed.

The MRO of the village seemed to suggest that with the 4.5 lakhs that each family would be compensated, the villagers could start other businesses.

How will someone who is illiterate, someone who has never seen a world other than his village, farm and the surrounding forest, know how to start a business and earn money by the methods other than what they have learned and used all their lives? To this, the MRO replied, “it is all part of evolution – we must adapt to changing times and surroundings”. He pointed to one example of a villager who had opened a food stall on the road side and is now doing good business. But is this a solution that will work for the rest of the hundreds of villagers who will be or already have been displaced?

The villagers also do not have an answer to these questions. Even if the government and private company gave the villagers some money and new houses elsewhere, the villagers will still be deprived of their previous quality of life and economic independence. The tribal people from these villages have not faced such dramatic changes like this in the past, and they have no idea what challenges they will have to face in the future.