Stories

Ramko

It was nearing seven in the morning. Ranitha set off towards the village along with two people from her team. It was a tiny hamlet with just four houses, known as Makadichuvva. This village was situated in the ChamorshiTaluka of Gadchiroli district. Among the four houses, two belonged to the OraonAdivasis, who had migrated from Rayagada, while the other two were owned by the local residents. It was the rainy
Stories

Adivasis and Untouchability

In the past, the squad had bombed Shivalingam and the temple. This was the first time they had returned to the village after that incident. Squad Area Committee (SAC) member Kosi, commander Ramdev and squad member Budral went to the village to ask the residents to come to the meeting and also bring some vegetables and rice. It was almost a year since they had visited the village. It was
Stories

Tender Hands

It is the courtyard of a police station, which is not like the current ultra-modern hi-tech police station with bright colours and high impenetrable walls. We are talking of a time before somebody with a heart burn blasted it with bombs. It is an old building with tiled veranda and mud coloured walls. The courtyard is surrounded by a four foot high compound wall. Chitti, who was thrown into a
Stories

Diku

The dawn broke. The fragrance of Mahua flowers wafted intoxicatingly from the forest adjoining the village. Reelamala, Maini, and Budhini, activists of the women's organisation, finished their meeting and had to go to another village for the next task in their planned program. They quickly completed their morning routines, packed their bags, and set off. These were villages mostly inhabited by Adivasi people in Jharkhand, located either within or adjacent
Stories

MEDICAL ‘GUIDE’

A professor, who is an academician, was coming from a neighbouring state to attend a meeting. Crowds of people were eagerly waiting for his arrival. There, he has come at last! The diligent looking, respectable professor was crossing the road, smiling and waving magnificently. But suddenly a motor cycle rode past him at jet speed, pumping a number of bullets into the dignified academician, and he fell down instantly. This
Stories

Unvanquished

It was the month of December. The night was chilly, the air crisp and still. The full moon hung low, casting its silver glow upon the world. There was heavy dew. Kumari stepped out of the tent after packing the necessary things for the next day’s journey. Cold breeze struck her face. She shivered and her teeth chattered. She rubbed her hands together and placed them on her cheeks. It
Stories

Defiance

“Run! The Police are coming! Run!” The entire village was alarmed with the news of police coming to their village yet again. Dandakaranya is not new to the police raids. Still, every time the police enter any village, the villagers, including the babies, are afraid of their arrival and the baggage of humiliation, abuse, and harassment that comes with them. The moment these words fell in the ears of the
Stories

From A Death Hole

It was 4th April 1998. I can never forget that dreadful day in my life. All the happenings of that day and the events leading to it, and how I came out of that death hole are still fresh in my memory even after three and a half years. We had joined the squad just a month and a half ago. Before that we were doing some tech (technical) work
Stories

Spring

Yellamma filled water in her old bottle and gathered the old and torn hand towel and a rope to tie up the firewood that they would gather later in the day. She slung the bottle across her shoulder and called out to Suseela who lived in the hut adjacent to theirs, “Come Suseela, it is getting hotter”. At about the same time Suseela started out of her hut, looking back
Stories

A Mother and Father in the Revolution

“How come you are back so early?” asked Myni anxiously when she saw Rukni and Sindayi coming towards her when she looked up from her writing. She had sent them to the village on work just a short while ago. “I believe the police are here. Comrades from Salepal village met us and told us”. “Where did they come?” “Supposedly to Bodili village” “Who saw them?” asked Myni closing her