Poll Wheels IX

Opium wars were fought in the 19th century between the British Empire and Quing Dynasty of China to gain access over Opium trade. Two centuries have passed but the war continues. Only the warriors and the war-zone have changed.

It’s now being fought between the farmers of Mandsaur and their representative in Parliament— Meenakshi Natrajan. She is contesting on a Congress ticket for a consecutive second term. Sudhir Gupta is the candidate of the rival Bhartiya Janata party (BJP) while Paras Saklecha is the nominee of Aam Aadmi Party (AAP).

The parliamentary constituency of Mandsaur comprises of districts of Mandsaur, Neemuch and parts of Ratlam. It belongs to the Malwa region, famous for its Opium. It is one of the largest producers of legal opium in the world. The government gives patta (license) to the farmers who are expected to produce (and sell exclusively to the government) a predetermined amount of opium.

Now, if the farmer gets lucky and can grow more than the cut off amount, he gets to sell the remaining in the black market (with the risk of spending upto 10 years in jail) at a whopping price of Rs 80,000 per kilogram. But if he turns greedy or can’t produce enough due to factors like weather, he loses his patta.

Over a period of time, the patta of most of the farmers of Mandsaur region has got cancelled for one or the other of the aforesaid reasons. Like a sore in the eye, it irks the farmers every moment. Now, politicians are good at spotting these sores and never hesitate to apply the ointment of promise; especially when it can fetch them votes. Meenakshi Natrajan, when she was asking for votes five years ago, promised to revive the licenses of the farmers. But, of course, she couldn’t keep her promise. So what, you ask? After all, most politicians don’t keep most of the promises they make during elections. And most of such promises are forgotten by both the, shall we say, promiser and the promisee. 

Except this promise. Prahlad Singh Chauhan of village Bhundiya remembers the cancellation and the promise. Jagdeesh Joshi of Ganot tehsil hasn’t forgotten it either. He voted for Meenakshi Natrajan then but is in a mood to ‘punish’ her this time for what he sees as a clear case of breach of promise. 

Baagdi Ram of village Kotpaliya is also miffed. The only difference being, he has overlooked the broken promise for the love of the party. “Never mind the patta, I’ll still give my vote to Congress,” he says charitably.

Baagdi Ram belongs to a caste ( Scheduled Caste or SC) which traditionally used to mend shoes. He is grateful to the Congress for uplifting their social status. However he considers his caste a rung above the one that engages in sweeping and scavenging and wouldn’t let a person from that caste enter his home. (Facepalm!)

While the farmers who lost their patta are miffed, farmers who still cultivate Opium aren’t rejoicing either. Sunil Jat of village Baheria Kheda is under stress. The future of his patta is now locked in boxes along with the yield which will be scrutinized on strict quantity and quality parameters.

The law that controls this opium cultivation is called Narcotic Drugs and Psychotropic Substances Act or NDPS Act which is one of the most stringent laws in India. It sends you straight to the prison for as long as 10 years if you are caught with quantities more than a kilogram.

My host— Dinesh Banjara— at village Suravat Ka Kheda spent three months in jail under the same Act for smuggling the drug. The nonchalance with which he was telling me these deep secrets baffled my mind. The only reason why he wasn’t in jail was his lawyer exploited some loopholes in the act to get him bail. He is summoned to the court every month though.

Dinesh, as his surname suggests, belongs to the Banjara tribe. In fact, the village Suravat Ka Kheda is entirely populated by this tribe. There used to be a time when these people were nomads, not any longer. Now they live in one place and do farming among other activities. But the village still dons the appearance of a temporary settlement; haphazardly built houses, unmetalled roads doubling up as drains. Despite the apathy of the administration, the people have prospered due to their business instincts. They buy blankets from Delhi and other wholesale markets in north-India and sell them in central and south India. Dinesh, his brother, and father are quite fluent in Tamil, Telugu and Marathi. They even gave me a demonstration of how they would woo a Tamil customer.

A Banjara Groom

If nothing else, I learned a lot about the Banjara tribe during my stay at this village. Marriage is a child’s play here; barely 17 or 18, and kids are either already married for years or desperate to get married. Multiple marriages are a norm rather than exception. Technically the marriage happens only once, rest of the conjugations are colloquially called ‘Naata’, i.e. live-in. The concept of divorce is totally unheard of. The abandoned woman simply takes it to be her fate. Hindu marriage act…what’s that? 

Dinesh calls her mother bhabhi, because she is his step-mother, the live-in partner of his father. His biological mother lives with her father in the city. Dinesh’s sister lives with them after her husband’s death due to electrocution last year. They are planning to find a ‘Naata’ for her soon. Are they following the so called ‘Hindu way of life’? If not, is India their ‘natural home’, Modi ji?

My hunch is, Modi might have a soft corner for them, because they have a soft corner for him. A ‘Second-hand Modi wave’ is working in the village. Second-hand, because they are influenced by their Sarpanch who has sided with Modi.

This phenomenon was further confirmed by Ramgopal of village Roja Fatehgarh who categorically said that “BJP kaa mahaul hai lekin Modi ki vajah se nahin, Mukhiya ki vajah se.” (There is a pro-BJP atmosphere but because of Mukhiya not Modi). The village follows the mukhiya, Ramgopal tells me while loading his tractor-trolley with chaff.

As they say, everything is fair in love and war. And elections in India are no less than a war. So what if it’s second hand wave, it's fetching Modi votes nonetheless.

There is another ‘second hand wave’ at work; the ‘Shivraj Wave’. In the words of Balwant Mali of Baghuniya village, who digs, well, wells, at a wage of Rs 200/day, “Shivraj ko dekh kar Modi ki leher hai.” (There is a Modi-wave due to Shivraj). Shivraj Singh Chauhan is the Chief Minister of Madhya Pradesh and could have been BJP’s Prime Ministerial candidate had he marketed his “MP model’ better than Modi’s “Gujarat model”.

“We have taken a loan of Rs 5 lakh at 0% interest rate from the Zila Sahkari Bank, get electricity for 8 hours in the fields; new roads are being constructed from field to well under Mukhya Mantri Kuan-Khet Yojana,” Shyam Patedar, a relatively well-off farmer in Baghuniya village, tells me. “Shivraj cares for farmers a lot. Plus we have seen the development of Gujarat. That’s why BJP,” he added.

Although there were some traces of ‘first hand wave’ as well. “If it wasn’t for Modi, I would have voted for Congress,” said Bhagat Ram, a farmer at village Piplia Mithesa.

Even Muslims are siding with BJP in the city of Mandsaur. “I have seen so many of my friends hovering around the BJP office lately. Congress appears to be losing its sheen,” said an egg vendor below my guest house. I lost his name due to a malfunction in my phone but fondly remember what he said. “What about you?” I asked. “Well, so far I am with Congress, but you never know,” he replied.

But it’s not that there is no contest. The boat of congress may appear far off the shore due to high-tide, but its anchors, not visible from the surface, are still firmly placed in the bottom of the sea.

Prabhulal Raaika of Balahedi village, belonging to the Rebari community famous for rearing Camels, divulged his unconditional devotion to the grand old party saying, “Denge to Congress ko hi, ye pata nahin kyun” (I’ll give my vote to Congress for sure, though I don’t know why.) He shared a few secrets of his trade too. In what could be seen as reverse racism, a dark camel fetches more money than a light-brown camel, he told me  “It can easily go for 50-60 thousand,” he said, while pointing towards a beautiful, well-built dark camel busy munching a thorny bush in the middle of nowhere.

Banjara community itself is split in its political inclination. While Suravat ka Kheda was backing BJP, Banjara Settlement near village Rupani supports Congress. “We simply are in love with Rahul Gandhi,” Parashuram Chawda told me, while making a wedding garland for the future-bride of his nephew, Govind.

Sabir Ahmed, a road contractor, posing along with Rajendra Singh, the Sarpanch of village Kulrasi, gave a clear reason for choosing Congress: “At least there won’t be any riots.” The road on which I was riding wasn’t layered with tarmac. “The money sanctioned for the road isn’t sufficient to get it metalled,” they said in unison. Seems like this Hindu-Muslim bonhomie had a business angle too. 

Mukesh Gupta, who runs a small departmental store in Kachnara village, was gaga over Meenakshi Natrajan’s personal integrity and work. Moreover, the percentage of Dalit and Muslim vote is higher in the village, who invariably will vote for Congress, he surmised.

Mohammed Husain, who has a cycle repair shop, and Salim, a motor mechanic, almost declared en masse voting for Congress from Chandwasa, a town on the bank of Chambal River with population of around 8000. Even an MLA form this region was a congress-man, they told me. It’s a ‘default choice’ for them for ages irrespective of any development work, they said.

Even a first-time voter like Parashuram, 19, of Village Betikhedi, who claimed to vote only after thorough research, went on about voting for Congress because that’s what his family has been doing for ages.

Shamim, a tailor in Baghuniya Village and her daughter-in-law Hasina B, are not happy with any party. “We have a BPL card but don’t get any benefit apart from subsidised ration,” they complained. They plan to boycott the elections altogether. “Hah, let the election date come and you will find them right there in the queue,” interjected a fellow villager. Hasina B, while disagreeing with the comment, gave me a you-called-my-bluff smile.

While she may be infirm, some are walking the talk. A fortuitous meeting with Maangi Lal Bhati near Baba Ramdev Temple (No, not the TV-yoga guru) in Kachnara was one of the high points of my transit through Mandsaur which brought home the point that a person’s job and his integrity are indeed two very different things. 

He is a Zila Sangathan Mantri (District Minister) in Congress Sevadal (workforce). I didn’t egg on asking who he’ll vote for once I came to know his designation, but he continued. “I often go to Delhi for meetings. When I see the palatial bungalows of our politicians, my heart cries. Would they lead India to prosperity?” he asked resignedly.

“In the assembly election (concluded just 5 months ago), I worked day and night for our party’s candidate but do you know whom I voted for?” he asked.

“I pressed NOTA (None of The Above),” he replied himself after a pause.

Mohammed Ishaq, a farmer near village Semli Rupa, also seems to be not conforming to the ‘default option’. Though, instead of NOTA, he plans to press the button of ‘Broom’. “What’s the fault of Kejriwal?” he asked defending the ex-chief Minister of Delhi when I played the devil’s advocate and accused Kejriwal of betrayal. But does that mean he is leaving Congress? “No, just trying AAP for once,” he said, almost cutting me short.

Barring a few examples, the apathy of people towards the Aam Aadmi Party (AAP), which captured the imagination of the entire country just five months back, bewildered me. What happened? Is the resignation within 49 days of the government responsible for the disenchantment or is there more to it? Was ‘AAP-wave’ also a media creation as Modi-wave appears to be now? Are people ready for the kind of politics AAP proposes? Is corruption as big an issue for the people as AAP projects it to be?

During a discussion among 40-50 people at an ice-cream shop in Chandwasa town, I could see the general behaviour of fervent supporters of the two major parties— Congress and the BJP. Without getting into details of who said what, the Congress supporters were relatively politer and calmer. They put across their points, levelled accusations— some baseless, some based on facts but with a degree of restraint. BJP supporters, who also started off as mature debaters, soon became ‘newsroom experts’— simply raised their decibel levels to prove their point.

A kilometre away from the debate venue was river Chambal. It flows through the middle of Mandsaur from South to north into India’s secnd largest fresh water reservoir— Gandhi Sagar— behind a Dam by the same name. While there are a million bridges over Yamuna which cuts through a tiny portion of Delhi, there are just two bridges over Chambal River in the entire district of Mandsaur. People are forced to cross the river in manual or motor boats because the nearest bridge from Chandwasa is 15 KM away upstream and 25 KM away via roads. Just 10 days before my arrival, a boat capsized in the river near Awraa village claiming 3 lives. Who is responsible for their deaths?

My plan to swim across the river with the cycle in a manual-boat also took a beating because of this accident as only motor-boats were permitted which are difficult to keep pace with. But since the width of the river was just a kilometer, I jumped into the river when the boat was halfway through, handing over the camera to a fellow passenger. What followed changed a lot of my perceptions about myself and life in general; a crash course in philosophy! As they say, what doesn’t kill you makes you stronger … and wiser!