Lack of buses to Kuruviagaram village forces Dalit kids to trek two km daily after school
CHENNAI: With the weight of a school bag on her back, Vinodhini, a Class 11 student at a private school in Gummidipoondi, walks nearly two km daily from the nearest bus stop in Rettambedu to her village, Kuruviagaram, often after sunset due to special classes. The path has no street lights and is also a haven for snakes.
She is just one among the scores of girl students from Kuruviagaram, who, equipped with nothing but torchlights, risk their lives every day while returning from school as there are no buses to the village. 'It is unsafe. We also instruct girl students not to accept rides from any strangers,' said S Priya, a female resident.
Around 1,000 Dalits who live in Kuruviagaram have long been demanding bus services to their village, but have so far not been able to elicit any official action. Around 60 high school students go out of the village to study every day, as Kuruviagaram only has a primary school.
One resident, M Kannadasan (20), who is pursuing his masters in social work at the Loyola College, Chennai, said that route number 43 (Gummidipoondi-Pallipalayam) stops at Rettambedu which is two km away from the village. In the evening, there are only two buses, one at 4.30 pm and another service at 6.30 pm.
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The Wire
6 hours ago
- The Wire
The Novel and the Nation: Revisiting Phanishwar Nath Renu's ‘Maila Aanchal' 70 Years On
Literature plays a crucial role in shaping discourses of emancipation by offering a space to imagine freedom, challenge oppressive systems, and give voice to marginalised experiences. It documents lived experiences of oppression – be it colonialism, slavery, patriarchy, or class exploitation – and often portrays characters who resist or transcend these conditions. This makes literature a vehicle for critiquing injustice and proposing alternatives. For understanding the past, and therefore the present, it is often important to look at novels as a repository of a discourse particularly in addition to sources such as archives, which do not simply preserve and store historical knowledge, but also represent the memory of a certain discourse complete with its own silences. It is in this context that Phanishwar Nath Renu, a prominent figure in post-independence Hindi literature, is relevant even today. Renu's novels and short stories appeared as a powerful tool of social emancipation by foregrounding the lives, struggles, and agency of India's rural poor, Dalits, tribals, and marginalised communities – groups often ignored in mainstream narratives. The determination to not hide the ills of the society His works, particularly the celebrated novel Maila Anchal (1954) are vital in shaping vernacular discourses of emancipation rooted in local realities rather than elite, urban ideologies. While Renu's writings, including Parti Parikatha and Maare Gaye Gulfam, all occupy their own niche space in India's literary history, the novel this article is concerned with is significant for its engagement with the making of an independent India and its focus on a region in Bihar i.e. Purnea (Kosi), gaining it the epithet of the first 'regional novel'. Growing up in times when nationalism has been reduced to loud, violent and vengeful calls, with history being used as a checklist of avenging wrongdoings; imagined or exaggerated, what stands out in Renu's work is the determination to not hide the ills of his society. It is perhaps the most important part of Renu's work, captured in the titular line. Written merely seven years after India gained independence from British rule, Renu pointed to the many ' daag' (stains) on Bharat Mata's aanchal – of communalism, casteism, segregation and inequalities besides of superstitious beliefs and absolute lack of rationality. It also expressed a concern for many unfreedoms that plagued (or plagues) Indian society after achieving formal independence. The novel follows the last few years of the freedom movement in 'Marygunj', a fictional village placed in the very real Purnea district of Bihar. The name of the village itself carries traces of colonialism and the influence of the 'indigo sahebs'. The story begins with Martin's wife Mary falling prey to the might of malaria. Her death leads him to realise the need for a hospital in the village. Thus enters Dr. Prashant or ' dagdar babu', the closest to a titular character in the traditional sense, to conduct research on malaria, kalaazar and other epidemics plaguing the region. The doctor becomes an entry point to understand the village and its politics. The narrative surrounding his 'origin story', not knowing his birth parents and therefore his caste, gives insight into the caste-based identification embedded in the social landscape to determine social value. The arrival of a young doctor, Prashant, symbolises hope and reform. But Renu doesn't romanticise state intervention – he shows how bureaucracy, corruption, and caste prejudices undermine development efforts. Emancipation, Renu suggests, cannot be outsourced to institutions. It must be internally driven by the agency of the community itself. Through this fictionalised 'Maryganj', Renu offers a narrative rich with descriptions of villages situated in the Kosi region of Bihar. That disease, particularly malaria, caused catastrophe in the region was not simply a fictionalised literary trope. The District Gazetteer of Purnea (1963) referred to its inhabitants as 'weak and devoid of stamina owing to the malarious climate.' It brings two points to the fore – first, geographical location of the region plays a crucial part in its cultural and social life. Regional history is marked by flooding of the Kosi (referred to as the cruel, angry sister of Ganga in folk tales), the floods combined with issues of drainage and lack of embankment, bringing a bout of epidemics like Malaria and cholera. Traversing the hegemony of standardised Hindi An 'East India Gazetteer' talks of the Purnia region with 'advantages of soil and climate such that it was considered one of the most productive in the province of Bengal', but the continued association of 'diseased' towns led to removal of civil authorities in 1815 to healthier stations. Second, it points to an important facet of colonialism through which it imposed certain negative characteristics as intrinsic to the landscape of the colony. The Orient was seen as different and opposite to the West or the 'Occident' such that the negative tropical attributes of the colonised land and environment came to be seen as affecting Europeans negatively – leading to debility or death, and creating the space for 'civilisational reforms'. A 1949 book, 'Bihar: The Heart of India', puts it succinctly, the opening lines on Purnea being – ' Na zahar khao, na mahur khao. Marna hai to Puraniya jao. '. Though Maila Aanchal is now seen as one of the greatest Hindi novels, at the time of its publication it was accused of several 'impurities', something that Renu compiled and published as an additional advertisement for the novel. This included the claim that the work did not contain a single sentence in 'pure' Hindi; the collection of folk songs and of 'corrupted' words all of which was seen as unsuitable for literature. A significant portion of the dialogues and conversations are in Bhojpuri, Maithili and Magahi which has come to be recognised as one of the most distinctive strengths of this novel. Renu has written how his characters would have spoken their words, traversing the hegemony of standardised Hindi. The village is divided into different 'tolas' or segregated living spaces for different castes. These areas do not just vary in their spatial nature but also in the type of language spoken by its residents. These fine differences in speech are used by Renu to particularise his characters. The Sanskritised, 'pure' Hindi was in fact alien to the villagers, as shown in a scene where a character, Baldev Yadav, receives a letter in Hindi from a Congress party secretary. He asks a young man to read it out to the villagers, but it seems meaningless to the villagers and they insist that the boy explain it. So, words like high court become haikot; injection becomes jakshain; district board is distibot; meeting is mitin. These aren't mere misspellings, rather words that look corrupt but match how the word is pronounced in the region. So, in spelling words how they sound Renu breaks the standard literary language and brings a realistic tone of local speech and linguistic patterns to his work. Phanishwar Nath 'Renu'. Photo: Social media Songs associated with Holi and seasonal changes ( phag, jogira, purvi ), songs sung at birth ( sohar ), marriage ( nachari ) and mourning ( samadaun ) find a place through incorporation of the oral traditions within the narrative of village life in Maryganj. The festival of Holi becomes a site for the inversion of the sociopolitical order through songs ( jogira ) which are used to point to the hypocrisy of the purity – pollution associated with the caste hierarchy. A Brahmin accepting water or food from a person deemed to be 'low-caste' is seen as an instance of 'pollution' but a lower-caste woman's sexuality is seen as something he can access easily with acceptance under the Brahmanical ideological structure. 'Arey ho budbak babhbna, arey ho budbak babhna ….jolaha dhuniya teli telaniya ke piye na chhual paniya. Chumma leve mei jaat nahi re jaye!' (Translation: 'You foolish Brahmin You would not drink water touched by a weaver, washerwomen, even oil-presser's wife, but you have no problem kissing them.' Renu brings the subaltern rural subject to the centre of literary discourse. His characters are not passive victims but complex, resistant, and rooted in their local cultures. He uses local dialects (Maithili, Bhojpuri), folk traditions, and oral storytelling to preserve their voices. This linguistic and cultural inclusivity in literature is itself an emancipatory act – it affirms the value of local knowledge, resisting linguistic and cultural homogenisation. An act of resistance to the idea of 'purity' in the dominant Hindi literature Hence Renu's work is an act of resistance to the idea of 'purity' in the dominant Hindi literature of the period. And much like 'Aadha Gaon' of Rahi Masoom Raza, he decided not to give faux tongues of 'pure language' to his characters in the novel. The everyday functions of a caste-based order are made explicit through the focus on commensality. Brahmins refused to eat in a public feast unless separate arrangements were made for them; the Rajputs and Kayasthas would not eat in the same row as the Yadavs, who in turn would refuse to eat with Dhanuks. Ambedkar's conception of graded inequality as characteristic of the caste system in India, where the castes exploited by the 'upper' castes seek to dominate those placed lower than them in the caste hierarchy, is notable. Renu was a key figure in the Aanchalik (regionalist) literary movement, which emphasised local landscapes, dialects, and everyday life. His use of social realism allows him to document not just hardship, but also community resilience, folk wisdom, and indigenous forms of resistance. The work highlights that folk songs, idioms, festivals, and oral traditions are not decorative – they are central to the community's survival and moral compass. These cultural elements act as tools of resistance to cultural erasure and state-imposed modernisation. The portrayal of this village is important as it does not resort to painting a quaint, serene countryside based on difference, distance or nostalgia. Influenced in large part by Gandhi, the imagination of the Indian village during the nationalist struggle, came to be seen as the repository of traditional Indian social life. In Gandhi's view, village life embodied the very essence of India, while the emergence of modern urban centres symbolised Western dominance and colonial control. As a result, he believed that true swaraj, or self-rule, could only be achieved by revitalising India's village communities and restoring their civilisational strength. What Gandhi highlighted as the 'essence of civilisation' is primarily what Ambedkar critiqued about the village society – 'The Hindu society insists on the segregation of the untouchables. The Hindu will not live in the quarters of the untouchables and will not allow the untouchables to live inside Hindu quarters… It is not a case of social separation, a mere stoppage of social intercourse for a temporary period. It is a case of blatant territorial segregation… every Hindu village has a ghetto..'. The village life came to be romanticised in novels as opposed to the hustle-bustle of 'town life'. Renu however doesn't characterise it as an unchanging, generalised character of rural India but infuses it with specifics which are useful in their insights and reminiscent of a village study. His characters are not idealised possessors of antique virtues or fundamental goodness. Renu does not stand with Gandhi's model of the Indian village as a singular cognitive unit, a republic of sorts but bares it as an entity divided along class, caste and gender lines with prejudices shaping the contours of different identities and the social formations. The villagers of Maryganj have the word Suraaj i.e. Swaraj on the tip of their tongues – Gandhi ji has promised so, he will bring it about. The phenomenon of Gandhi, something which the historian Shahid Amin has written extensively about, in the eyes of the 'subaltern' or non-elite in rural India can also be gauged in this novel. 'Gandhi mahatma' is evoked often, not only by Congressmen but by villagers who have heard of him through others. Renu questions the penetration of these values of the freedom struggle and whether the Congressmen were actually able to take their ideas to the 'masses' beyond words, concluding that ' suraaj' has not reached the minds of the nation's citizens. Or at least not in the manner the Mahatma would have thought of. However, in more ways than one, Renu, instead of glorifying Western-style progress or industrialisation, proposes a model of alternative modernity – one that respects rural wisdom, collective solidarity, and ecological harmony. This questions dominant notions of development and emancipation tied solely to urbanisation or capitalism. Renu's political experience helps him reshape the discourse of emancipation Renu's personal life and the politics he practiced cannot be divorced from his writing. An active participant in the 1942 Quit India Movement, he was jailed for the same. Having completed his matriculation from Nepal he also participated in the movement against monarchy and for the establishment of democracy in the country. In his essay titled 'The role of the Writer in the making of the Nation' published in 1957, Renu wrote that being 'enslaved by the coloniser' was the main problem during the freedom struggle, and as an independent nation the main issue is that of building a nation. Modernity which was to bring about independent thinking and independent power to the individual has not happened even 10 years after independence. Thus his political experience helps him reshape the discourse of emancipation by primarily validating rural life and subaltern subjectivity with a subterranean yearning demanding a challenge to caste and class oppression. And the text also offers a bottom-up vision of freedom tied to social justice and cultural authenticity. A testimony of Renu's conviction was further seen during the Emergency when he wrote to the President returning his Padma shri, particularly after the violence meted out to the protests led by Jayaprakash Narayan (JP). In his letter Renu strongly protested saying 'How long will the government, of which you are the President, continue to try to suppress the will of the people using violence and state repression? In such a situation, this honour of 'Padma Shri' has become ' Paap shri' (a sin) for me'. The novel's themes become particularly important when 76 years after Independence, the Chief Justice of 'modern' India publicly states his belief in and propagates to the nation, ayurveda and ayurvedic medicines. It necessitates questioning political propagation in the garb of 'personal choice' when religious superstition and lack of access to quality health services continues to impact everyday life of more than a billion in the country. When the everydayness of irrationality seeks to normalise harking back to ancient glory, of 'reclaiming' civilisational (reducing the Civilisation to 'Caste Hindu' values) – pillars of the state actively legitimising it, it increases the urgency to remember the tenets of independence and voices documented in the Maila Aanchal. In a letter to JP, Renu highlighted his dissonance with this 'free' country. He wrote – '…a few days ago someone said to me that there's a difference between the prisons of colonial India and that of free India. Well indeed, Purnea Jail can be an example of this 'independent' India of our present where even human beings have become animals. Maybe out of one thousand one hundred and twelve prisoners, even one person cannot be termed healthy. Maybe hell is like this… what is the difference between 1947 and 1972?' And what indeed is the difference between 1947, 1972 and 2025, as thousands of people remain as undertrial prisoners in different jails across the country. Many of these are young minds arrested for protesting against unequal citizenship laws and for demanding the freedom to be and the freedom to become across university campuses in India. In the novel, after the achievement of independence in 1947, the Adivasis of Santhal regions are disillusioned as they continue to grapple with local oppressors, and the state and its justice systems continue to be dominated by upper castes. The constitutional promise of justice appeared hollow when it remained structurally denied. The contradictions of unfreedoms in a 'free' nation continues to make this novel relevant. Stories exposing deeply embedded inequalities which persist even after independence In Maila Anchal, Renu critiques feudal oppression, caste discrimination, and bureaucratic apathy. His stories expose how deeply embedded inequalities persist even after independence, pointing out that political freedom did not automatically translate into social justice. Unlike didactic or revolutionary narratives, Maila Anchal doesn't offer a grand solution. It presents partial, fractured progress, emphasising that emancipation is slow, contested, and deeply contextual. Renu's writing, rooted in the reality of rural India, speaks directly to the need for social justice, making him an important voice in the literary canon of Indian writers committed to egalitarianism. His characters often embody the hope for a more just society, even if it is only reflected in small, personal victories. What we can borrow from Renu is a simple virtue called empathy. Renu's deep empathy for the marginalised and his understanding of the complexities of rural life reflect his belief in an egalitarian society. It is time for the Republic to stick to it with the necessary sense of urgency. The writer has an MA in modern history from Jawaharlal Nehru University and currently works with Oxford University Press. The Wire is now on WhatsApp. Follow our channel for sharp analysis and opinions on the latest developments.
Time of India
a day ago
- Time of India
Panchayati land auction sparks unrest in Patiala village
Patiala: Farmers belonging to Bathoi Kalan in Patiala district on Wednesday staged a protest at the Patiala BDPO office in an effort to halt the ongoing auction process of panchayati land within the village. During the protest, a minor clash also erupted between two groups from the village, which included Dalits and the farmers currently cultivating the panchayati land. Secretary, BKU (Ekta Ugrahan), Patiala, Balraj Joshi explained that the village possesses a total of 603 acres of panchayati land. This land has been under cultivation by the farmers for several decades. However, the district administration now intends to allocate this land to the members of the SC community living in the village. Joshi said those who had been tilling the land were opposed to this move, leading to a petition being filed in the Punjab and Haryana high court. According to Balraj: "The high court has stayed over 450 acres of this panchayati land, but more than 80 acres of agricultural land did not receive a stay due to technical issues experienced during the filing of the petition. The administration has now attempted to auction this land with the aim of distributing it to the SC community members and subsequently to corporate houses." by Taboola by Taboola Sponsored Links Sponsored Links Promoted Links Promoted Links You May Like Alarme c/ Câmera Mais moderna do Mercado por até 40% Off Verisure Saiba Mais Undo BDPO Sukhwinder Singh Tiwana said: "The auction of nearly 98 acres of panchayati land was being held when some villagers along with farmer union members started to oppose the move. Out of 603 acres, 98 acres land was not under stay of the high court. We wanted to auction these 98 acres of which 1/3rd share was supposed to be given to the SC community members in the village as per law. Those who have illegally occupied the panchayati land are opposing this auction. " MSID:: 121626566 413 |
Hans India
a day ago
- Hans India
Rift in the Margins? Dalit Groups Condemn Muslim Leaders' Remarks in Mangaluru, Signal Emerging Faultlines
Mangaluru: A press conference by Dalit leaders in coastal Karnataka has brought to light growing discontent within Scheduled Caste and Scheduled Tribe organisations against certain Muslim groups, in the wake of controversial remarks made against Karnataka Home Minister Dr. G. Parameshwara, a prominent Dalit leader. The Karnataka Dalit Horata Samiti, a district-level Dalit rights organisation, on Wednesday condemned a viral audio clip circulating across WhatsApp groups, in which unidentified Muslim individuals were allegedly heard criticising and insulting Dr. Parameshwara and his daughter following the recent communal violence in Mangaluru. The incident, sparked by the killing of Abdul Rahim, a resident of Koltmajalu in Bantwal, had reignited simmering tensions in the communally sensitive region. 'The remarks against a senior Dalit leader and his family have hurt the sentiments of the entire Dalit community,' said Anil Kumar Kankanady, a district leader of the Horata Samiti. 'Dr. Parameshwara is not just a political figure, but a symbol of perseverance for all Dalits who have risen through systemic adversity. Targeting him with such language is not just personal defamation—it is an insult to the community.' The organisation, which includes several prominent SC/ST activists, demanded the registration of a case under the Scheduled Castes and Scheduled Tribes (Prevention of Atrocities) Act against those involved in the derogatory comments. The leaders also pressed for immediate arrests and action against those disseminating the voice recordings. Among those present at the press conference were district coordinator S.P. Anand, Vishukumar, Siddappa Basavanagar, Dasharath Daddalkad, Prasad Kankanady, and RJ Karkera. A New Political Line? While such condemnations might seem like a routine defence of community pride, analysts suggest this incident signals a potentially deeper shift in Karnataka's subaltern politics. Historically seen as allies in struggles against upper-caste hegemony and right-wing politics, Dalit and Muslim groups in Karnataka have shared political space—both in street mobilisations and electoral strategies, particularly within Congress and smaller social justice-oriented outfits. However, recent developments, including competitive victimhood, perceived political neglect, and targeted communal violence in coastal areas, have strained this tenuous solidarity. That a Dalit-led press meet would call out Muslim voices so directly—and link it to broader community insult—suggests that identity-based assertiveness is reshaping grassroots narratives. 'This is a moment of divergence,' notes a Mangaluru-based political sociologist. 'Dalit organisations, long accustomed to being marginal players in coastal Karnataka's communal binary, are now asserting a third front—demanding respect not just from dominant castes or state institutions, but also from other marginalised communities.' Coastal Karnataka's Fragile Balance Coastal Karnataka has witnessed a complex mix of caste, religion, and regional assertion. While much of the national discourse has framed the region as a Hindu-Muslim flashpoint, caste-based politics—especially among backwards castes and Dalits—has been gaining traction over the last decade. In this context, attacks—verbal or otherwise—on a figure like Dr. Parameshwara, who has held key portfolios including that of Home Minister and Deputy Chief Minister, are seen not just as personal affronts but as an attack on Dalit political legitimacy. With state elections on the horizon and national parties recalibrating their caste equations, the growing alienation expressed by Dalit leaders in Mangaluru may well ripple beyond the district. Whether this episode marks a passing rupture or the beginning of a deeper shift in caste-community alignments will depend on how political parties, civil society, and state mechanisms respond to the grievance, and whether platforms of solidarity can be rebuilt before mistrust calcifies, say political observers on the coast.
