Mother’s Love

‘Akka, already the sun is so high in the sky. That’s enough picking for today. Let’s head home. We have to fetch water and do other stuff and prepare food,’ said Mangli, transferringthe plucked Mahua flowers from her small basket into the larger one.

‘Yes, let’s go. We’re out of waterand I am feeling thirsty too. We will feel better after having some porridge at home,’ said Somvari as she added the Mahua flowers from her basket to the larger basket and adjusted it. The baskets, filled with Mahua flowers that resembled small jasmine buds, were a delightful sight.

‘You have a daughter-in-law at home. You can work together and finish things quickly once you’re back. But I have to manage everything by myself,’ said Mangli, balancing the large basket on her head, holding the empty hollowedbottle gourd brought to carrywater in one hand, and walking briskly.

‘Then why don’t you get Sukku married? Once a daughter-in-law comes, your troubles will ease too,’ Somvari suggested, following her.

‘I’m repeatedly telling him to get married, but does he listen to me?’ Mangli replied.

‘He seems interested in joining the squad,’ Somvari hinted.

‘If I say yes, he’d leave in no time. But he’s my only son. If he goes, who will I have left? That’s why I keep saying no,’ Mangli explained.

‘Does he listen to you if you say no?’ Somvari asked.

‘He won’t go against my word. He can’t see me suffering,’ Mangli said.

‘True, Sukku is a thoughtful boy,’ Somvari praised her son.

Mangli’s face lit up with pride. A faint smile appeared on her lips.

Mangli was about 45 years old, slightly short and of a dusky complexion. Years of hard work had given her a sturdy frame. She had a pleasing appearance with a round face, calm eyes, and beautiful teeth. Sukku was her only surviving child out of several. Five years ago, her husband had developed a lump on his leg. Despite selling their goats and pigs to take him to Bijapur for treatment, it didn’t help. After a year of suffering, he passed away. Since then, her world revolved around her son. They worked hard on their small patch of land and, like others in the Dandakaranyaforest, they depended on its resources. They collectedMahua flowers and seeds, Tenduleaves, gum, resin, honey, and other forest produce to sell at the market. They were satisfied with what they had and their life was simple but peaceful.

Somvari lived next door to Mangli and she was her distantcousin sister. She had two daughters and five sons. One daughter and one son joined guerrilla squads, and another daughter and son were married. The remaining three boys were around ten years old. Her daughter-in-law and younger sons had gone to collect Mahua flowers from their land, while she had come to the forest with Mangli.

Both women had tied lungistill belowtheir knees, worn blouses, and used a piece of lungi to cover their bosoms. They used this piece to wipe their sweat and walked briskly. It was the month of March, and though the nights were cool, the days were fairlyhot. The trees in the forest, having shed old leaves, werejust thensprouting new leaves. The Mahua trees stood vibrant and green, adorned with clusters of flowers. Tendu and other trees, too, had turned lush green, creating a picturesque scene.

As they walked briskly, Mangli paused for a moment, pointed to aMahua tree nearby, and said, ‘There are red ants.’ Both women set their baskets down. Somvari bent a branch low with a stick, and Mangli skilfully removed a nest of ants builtwith leaves. Somvari spread a cloth on the ground, and Mangli shook the nest, letting the ants and their eggs fall onto it, laughing as she ran a short distance away. Red ants crawled all over her body, biting her. She wiped her face, neck, and hands with her palmsand crushed the ants crawling on her body. Then, removing her upper piece of cloth, she brushed off the ants from her stomach and chest. Ignoring the burning sensation on her body caused by the ant bites, she came backto the cloth where they collected the ants. By then, Somvari had also brushed off ants from her body and she sorted the white ant eggs and dead ants into two bundles using Mahua leaves.

‘This is a big nest,there are a lot of ants,’thought Mangli, placing one bundle into her Mahuaflower basket and lifting it onto her head again. Somvari followed her.

Once home, Mangli went to the drying yard beside the house and spread the Mahua flowers evenly on the smooth, flat ground. The yard already had flowers in various stages of drying—some almost fully dried in one pile, others needing two to three days in another pile, and fresh flowers in a third. A heap of completely dried flowers lay in one corner.

Coming out of the drying yard, Mangli unrolled the cloth rollshe put on her head while carrying weights, threw it on the bamboo clothesline, and let out a deep sigh. Without wasting a moment, she picked up a broom. Like most houses there, hers was a small two-room mud house. The front room had the firewood stove, where they cooked and ate. The back room was a store room where they stored grains and other essentials. The family slept in a small hut beside the house.

Hurriedly, Mangli cleaned the house, yard, and the shed. She gathered the dishes used for cooking the previous night, took two water pots, and balanced one pot on her head, arranging the dishes atop it. She tucked the second pot under her arm and held a few more dishes in her hands. She put some clothes over her shoulder andcame out of the house. There was a small stream about four or five minutes away from her house. Though the stream had dried up, there was a small pool of water in a deep spot within the stream.

When she reached that puddle, two or three other women were already there, washing dishes and clothes. Greeting them, Mangli sat by the puddle and scrubbed her pots and dishes until they gleamed. She then used a small dish to scoop water from the puddle into the two pots and a cooking vessel. After that, she submerged herself in the pool for a bath. Using a stone, she scrubbed her arms, legs, and body. Once finished, she changed into the clothes she had brought and washed the ones she had removed, beating them on a rock before rinsing them thoroughly. Then she wrung them tightly and slung them over her shoulder. She arranged a roll of cloth on her head and balanced one pot on it.Then she asked one of the women to help place the other pot and the cooking vessel atop it. Carrying the washed dishes in her hands, Mangli made her way back home.

The cool bath refreshed her, washing away her fatigue. After arranging the pots and dishes, she took out a clay pot of leftover ambali (a fermented gruel) from the attic. Pouring some of it into a small steel bowl, she drank her fill.

She thought of her son Sukku. He had taken ambali in a hollow gourd. He must have had it by this time, she thought. He said he’d come by noon and he maybe hungry by then and so I had better cook quickly, she thought to herself.

After washing the ambali bowl, Mangli lit the stove. Without rinsing the pounded rice, she poured it into the boiling water in the vessel on the stove, letting it cook into a porridge. Once the rice softened, she took the vesseloff the stove and poured half of the porridge water into another pot for making curry.

From the bundle of ant eggs she had collected earlier, she pulled out the eggs wrapped in leaves and placed them into the embers of the fire. Once roasted, she peeled off the charred leaves, releasing a rich aroma of cooked ant eggs. Mangli added the roasted eggs to the simmering porridge water. Using a bamboo stick, she stirred the mixture thoroughly, ensuring the eggs blended well.

She then added salt, four redchilies, and a piece of raw turmeric, ground on a stone slab, to the pot. Cutting a small onion, she tossed it in. Finally, she retrieved leftover fermented porridge from the attic and poured it into the curry, giving it a tangy twist. The combination of the sour porridge and the roasted ant eggs created an aroma so enticing that it made Mangli’s mouth water. ‘Sukku loves this dish; he’ll eat heartily’, she thought with satisfaction.

She made two bowls with leaves and filled them with rice and set them aside, covering them with leaves. Meanwhile, Sukku arrived.

He had taken a bath at the stream and returned wearing a freshly washed, wet lungi. He picked up the dry clothes from the clothesline and wore them and hung his wet ones to dry. Sitting on a coir cot in the hut, he combed his hair while looking into a small handheld mirror.

‘I’m starving, Sukku! Come quickly; let’s eat,’ Mangli called out as she rinsed the plates.

Sukku silently washed his hands and entered the house, sitting on a low wooden stool. Mangli served him a plate with rice, and a bowl of curry. She took her plate and served herself rice and curryand started eating with satisfaction.

Lost in thought, Sukku ate quietly.

‘Did you meet Kamli? How is she?’ Mangli asked. Kamli is the commander of the local squad.

‘Yes, I met her. She’s fine. She asked me to convey her Lal Salaam to you,’ Sukku replied.

Mangli smiled warmly. ‘It’s been so long since she came this way.’

‘She’s been very busy and hasn’t had the time to come this way,’ Sukku explained.

‘I heard she fell very badly ill recently. Is she better now?’ Mangli asked.

‘She’s doing fine now,’ Sukku replied.

‘I heard there was some firing recently. Did anyone get hurt?’

‘Our people are safe. Only a policeman got injured,’ Sukku said. After a pause, he hesitantly added, ‘Amma, Kamli didihas been asking me to join the squad. I want to join too.’

Mangli froze. ‘Oh, my dear boy! You’re all I have. If you join the squad, who shouldI live for?’

‘If everyone thought like that, how would the party grow? How would ourstruggle move forward?’ Sukku countered.

‘Why would everyone think like that? If I had one more child, I wouldn’t stop you from going,’ Mangli said firmly.

‘Why do you speak like that, Amma? Aren’t there others with just one daughteror one son who are letting them join the Party?’

‘They may join, but I can’t survivewithout you, my son.’

‘But, Amma, I have such a strong desire to work in the squad. Aren’t you part of the women’s organization? You always tell everyone to fight for their rights, but you say no when it comes to me?’

‘Are you doing nothing now? You’re part of the militia, aren’t you? Isn’t that part of the struggle?’

‘Being in the militia isn’t enough, Amma. How will the revolution move forward if all of us stay in the militia and work from home? This time, Sannu and Pagnu from our militia joined the squad. If everyone else joins and I don’t, how disappointing would it be for me?’

‘Think about me, my son. Call me selfish if you want, but I can’t survive without you.’

***

Kamli got up from the polythene sheet on which she was sitting in the hut and called out ‘Lal Salaam, Mangli Naano!’on seeing Mangli at a distance. Kamli was thin, of medium complexion and height, and had short-cropped hair, giving her a somewhat masculine appearance. Those unfamiliar with her might mistake her for a man until she spoke. Born an Adivasi girl on this very land 25 years ago, Kamli had now become the voice and leader of the area’s people.

‘Lal Salaam!’ Mangli replied with a shy smile, carrying the pot of rice she had wrapped carefully and setting it aside. She shook Kamli’s extended hand warmly. Two young girls who had accompanied Mangli also set their doppas (bowls made of leaves) down and shook hands withKamli respectfully.

‘How are you Naano?’the squad membersasked.

‘I’m doing well. How are you all?’Manglireplied, shaking hands with Suresh and Mangu.

‘What are your names?’ Kamli asked the two young girls, gently patting their cheeks.

After a few minutes of conversation, Mangli said, ‘You all must be hungry. You eat first and then we can talk.’

‘Okay. I’m very hungry too.Come on Suresh and Mangu, let’s eat,’ Kamli said and asked Mangli if they have eaten.

‘We just ate before coming here. Sukku said only three people came, and three portions would be enough, so we brought only three doppas,’ Mangli explained.

‘That’s plenty,’ Kamli said. She took out a plate from her kit and washed it with water from the pot outside before sitting down near the rice doppas. Suresh followed with his plate, while Mangu quipped, ‘Why bother with a plate? I’ll eat straight from the doppa.’He washed his hands and joined them.

‘Fine, eat from the doppaif you can finish it!’ Kamli teased.

‘Don’t worry; I’ll eat whatever is left in your plates too,’ Mangu laughed, picking up a doppaand sitting on a nearby rock.

Mangli placed the doppa she had brought in front of Kamli, who opened the leaf covering it and smiled. ‘Oh! Gongura and dry fish! I knew you’d bring this,’ Kamli said, chuckling.

Mangli smiled shyly in response.

‘How did you know?’ Suresh asked.

‘I once mentioned it was myfavourite. Since then, she never misses making it during gongura season,’ Kamli explained, and the group burst into laughter. Mangli joined in, feeling a sense of camaraderie.

Kamlidivided the curryinto three portions, serving Suresh, and Mangu.She served herself about half the rice from the doppaand some amount of gongura curry and asked the young girls who had accompanied Mangli to eat the remaining rice and curry.

‘We just ate and came,’ the girls protested.

‘No problem. Eat a little,’ Mangli insisted.

‘They’ve justeaten, leave it in the doppa. They can have it later,” Manglisaid. Kamli covered the doppacarefully with aleaf and set it aside.

A short distance away, a militia sentry kept watch, allowing the guerrillas to eat in peace.

After finishing the meal, Kamli and Mangli sat on a polythene sheet in the hut, while Mangu and Suresh saton a polythene sheet under a tree some distance away and started chatting with the young girls who accompanied Mangli.

After about 15 minutes of light conversation, Kamli saidto Mangli. ‘I sent word for you because I have something important to discuss.’

Mangli laughed knowingly. She had a feeling she knew what Kamli wanted to talk about.

‘Of course you also know what I want to talk about—it’s about Sukku. It seems you’re not agreeing to Sukku joining the squad?’

Manglismiled sheepishlyin response. ‘You know, Kamli, I have only one son. If he joins the squad, who will look after me? Who will tend to the farming?’

‘Our village has mass organisations. The Party committee is there. The people’s government (Janatana Sarkar) is in place which will take your responsibility. The cooperative committee will till your lands. Do you think we’ll abandonyou? Even those who are a single child to their parents joined our party. The party always took care of the parents of such individuals, didn’t it?’

‘No matter how much others care, it’s different to have your own child with you, Kamli.’

‘It’s true that children have a duty to care for their parents. They should. But it’s not right to think that only children should look after their parents. Think about thepeople who don’t have children. Even those who do have children, often find themselves in situations where their children don’t care for them. In our tribal society, this situation may not be as common, but outside, many parentsare forced to beg, despite having children. Society should take care of such people. For that to happen, the society we live in now must change. To bring that change, mothers like you need to send their children to the battle. You too need to make sacrifices.’

‘Sukku is already part of the militia, isn’t he, Kamli?’

‘Yes, he is. I’m not denying that. But Sukku is very sharp. If people like him join the Party to work full-time, they can trainmany more like him.’

‘But I can’t live without him, Kamli…’ Mangli’s voice quivered, and her eyes filled with tears.

Seeing her pain, Kamli thought about the thousands of parents who gave uptheir beloved children tothe movement and endured immense sufferingseparated from their dear children.

‘I’ve thought about it too, that Sukku is youronly child. But Sukku is very keen to join the squad. He’s been insistingthat I convince you and recruit him into the squad. How is it fair to deny Sukku his desire to work for the people? Even if he joins the squad, he’ll visit you occasionally, right?’

‘No, Kamli, think whatever you want to about me.  Call me a very selfcentered person. But without him, I simply can’t survive. Let him continue with the militia and work even more. If you need him, take him for a few days, and then sendhim back. I’ll also work harder in the Sangham(women’s organization). Don’t I know how important the Party is? Without the Party, where would people like us even survive? That’s why everyone must contribute to the Party’s work. Use him for any amount of work while keeping him home, but don’t recruit him into the squad, Kamli.’

***

As night approached, Mangli slowly cameout of the bush where she had been hiding and stood up. She looked around. There was no unusual movement. She quietly moved toward the fallen trunk of a nearby tree, where Somvari sat crouched spiritlessly. Her ten-year-old son was curled up asleep in her lap. Mangli sat down opposite Somvari. They looked into each other’s eyes and then quickly looked away. Both carried the weight of a disaster they had never faced before.

‘It is getting dark, shall we leave now, akka?’ Mangli asked heavily. Her voice, which had been silent all day, sounded strange.

‘Do you think those goons might still be around?’ Somvari asked.

‘They might have left.  It seems they’re generally carrying out attacks in the morning and returning before nightfall,’ Mangli replied, pausing for a moment. “We’ve been hearing that Salwa Judumattacks are happening more frequently now. We were worried that our village might face the same fate. Now it has happened.’ Mangli sighed heavily.

“We were thinking that an attack might happen anytime and we must stay prepared to escapethe danger and protect the children. But as soon as Iheard that they hadcome, myheart raced, and my legs trembled. Somehow, I managed to drag this boy with me. But I don’t know what happened to my daughter-in-law who went to fetch water,my elder son who ison sentry duty …My husband and the younger boys went to graze the cattle and goats.I wonder how they are ….’Somvari, who had been anxious about her husband and children all day, spoke in a trembling voice while wiping her tears.

‘Don’t worry akka, they attacked from the right side of the hill, is isn’t it? Your daughter-in-law went for water, and your husband and the boystook the cattle to the left. They must have escaped safely after hearing our commotion. Even the sentry duty was on the other side. So, your elder son should also be fine.’

Mangli’s words gave Somvari a little courage. ‘Maybe she’sright. Perhaps everyone escaped,’ she thought with hope.

‘Sukku left yesterday and hasn’t returned yet, has he?’Somvari asked, looking at Mangli.

‘No, he hasn’t. Kamli sent word and he went to meet her,’ said Mangli.She was confidentthat her son would be safe since he was with the squad.

‘Come akka, we will look around cautiously and go,’ Mangli said as she got up. Somvari too got up, waking up her son. The boy, trembling, held his mother’s hand tightly, and stood close to her with his head pressed against her belly.

The three of them began walking silently towards the village, carefully surveying the surroundings, and using the trees, bushes, and rocks for cover. Even the boy understood that being quiet was essential to their survival.

As they neared the village, others joined them one by one. They exchanged looks of concern, silently sharing their grief and pain. Everyone walked in silence, their minds heavy with thoughts of what might have happened to their children, their husbands, and their loved ones. There was also the dread that everything in their homes might have been burned to ashes.

From a distance, they saw bare walls and patches of smoke rising from the village. Though it was not unexpected, grief welled up in everyone, but they suppressed it. The fear that the Judumgoons might still be around suppressed their sorrow. Meanwhile, waves of collective mourning began to emanate from the village. The restrained grief within the group burst forth, and they quickened their pace, breaking into a run. As they entered the village, the cries of sorrow multiplied manyfold.

Gradually, all the villagers who fled the place returned to the village. Everyone anxiously searched for their loved ones. Those who found their family members greeted them with tears and embraced their children tightly. When they saw their family members, who had been missing all day, they felt it was like their rebirth. Ultimately, they were all relieved to learn that none of the villagers had fallen into the hands of the Judumgoons.

People helplessly watched their homes, now reduced to ruins. The walls were charred,clay tiles broken and livestock shelters and coops turned into ashes and coallay scattered everywhere. The remains of burned aluminium vessels and grains and clothes lay in the debris. There were indications of goats and pigs being roasted and eaten. Forty houses in the village had been completely destroyed by fire.

The houses, built with sweat and blood, and the belongings, purchased with painstakingly saved money, had all turned to ashes. Watching the destruction, everyone felt a deep sense of helplessness. Even extinguishing the still-smouldering remnants was impossible, as no pots, jars, or utensils remained. Their carefully built lives lay shattered and scattered. Some villagers collapsed in tears out of sheer helplessness, while others, unable to sit idly, wandered aimlessly in agitation. Children, driven by hunger, fear, or irritation, cried and clung to their mothers.Mothers didn’t know how to comfort them. They just tried to soothe them with pats and soothing words while breastfeeding the infants.

Darkness fell, heavier than any they had known before. A collective despair engulfed them. Would this darkness ever lift? Would dawn ever break again? The hopelessness of the situation overwhelmed all.

The Party had long warned them of the possibility of a Judum attack, advising them to safeguard their grains, belongings, and money. Many had managed to stash away some supplies, including grains, clothes, and utensils.

The cries of the children grew louder by the moment.

‘There’s no point in sitting here and crying. What’s lost won’t come back. At least none of our villagers were captured by the Judum. We’ve heard about the horrors happening in nearby villages, haven’t we? Our party’s timely warnings helped us save some resources. In many villages, people were left with just the clothes on their bodies. We are fortunate by comparison. We need to stay strong. Only with courage can we figure out how to fight back against this Judum. It isn’t safe to stay here any longer. Let’s go to the forest. We have already prepared some hideouts there, let’s go there. However, it is no longer possible for all of us to stay together. Let’s split into four groups and adjust in different locations as planned. For now, let’s go to the forest, and retrieve the stored grains and utensils, and cook something for the children. Otherwise, they can’t withstand their hunger,’ said Somal, the local Janatana Sarkar leader.

***

From afar, Mangli spotted Mangal returning with a militia member. Rushing to meet him, she asked anxiously, ‘Where is Sukku?’

‘The Judum militia captured Sukku, Aunt,’ Mangal replied, bursting into tears.

The ground slipped from beneath Mangli’s feet, and she collapsed. Others ran toward her in concern.

‘What exactly happened? How was he caught?’ asked Somal who had just arrived at the scene.

Wiping his tears, Mangal recounted, ‘Yesterday evening, after speaking with Kamli didi, we were returning to our village. The Judumgoons must have been returning after attacking our village. They saw us. We fled into the forest, but Sukku got caught. I managed to escape, wandering in the forest all night and finally finding my way here at dawn.’

Mangal stood there trembling, his eyes red, his hair dishevelled, his face etched with worry, and his clothes crumpled —looking terrified like the kid of a goat that managed to elude the hunter.

Mangli began to weep inconsolably. No one could muster the strength to comfort her. Unable to console her, they sat around her, crying silently.

‘Don’t cry so loudly. The sound of your wails will carry far and the Judum goons could come here too,’ someone cautioned.

Immediately, many suppressed their sobs. Once again, they focused on trying to console Mangli.

‘Don’t cry, Mangli. Those goons might come here too. There are little children with us. We have already vacated the village. If they come here, where else can we go?’ coaxed Kosi, Mangli’s aunt.

‘My son… What will they do to my son? How can I sit silently without knowing?’ Mangli wailed.

‘Listen to me, aunt. Those who are caught are taken to camps. Sukku will manage to escape somehow. Don’t despair; he will find a way,’ assured Somal, trying to instil some hope in her.

‘Who knows how much they’re torturing him? If they find out he’s involved with the militia, what may they do to him?’ Mangli cried.

‘Don’t lose heart, aunt. We must stay strong. This government is targeting us with vengeance. No matter what they do, we must endure. We have no other choice,’ another said.

The entire afternoon passed with Mangli crying uncontrollably. Despite their repeated pleas, she didn’t even drink water. After telling her repeatedly to no avail, some people spread themselves out under trees, lying down to rest, while others left to check on their huts. Somvari, however, stayed by Mangli’s side the entire time.

Mangli eventually stopped crying out of exhaustion and slumped to the ground. After some time, she sat up, wiping away her tears. She drank water from the mug Somvari handed her and splashed some on her face. Tying her dishevelled hair back tightly, she said with resolute determination, ‘I will go to Bijapur camp.’

‘Are you out of your mind? What will you do at the camp?’ asked Somvari, shocked.

‘Even if I have to beg at their feet, I will bring back my son,’ Mangli declared.

‘You think they will release him if you plead? Don’twe know what kind of monsters they are?’ Somvari tried to reason with her.

‘I will tryto plead my case however I can,’ Mangli insisted.

‘What are you thinking about the Judum goons? Do you think they have any humanity left? They are even pulling out the foetuses from thewombs and killing them. Haven’t we seen and heard what they’re capable of? Let alone your son, if you go there, they’ll detain you too, and put you through unimaginable suffering!’

‘Let them do anything! What else am I supposed to do? My son… If he’s suffering there, how can I stay here? I can’t live without him,’ Mangli said, tears streaming down her face.

‘Mangli, listen to me. Sometimes, fate is cruel and Sukku ended up in the hands of those beasts. Maybe, with some luck, he’ll find a way to escape. But why do you want to jump into the fire? Being mother and son, we will share each other’s grief and pain but do we die for each other? Think carefully!’ Somvari pleaded, her tone softening.

Mangli sat silent for a moment, her tears flowing unchecked. Then, with renewed determination, she said, ‘Akka, don’t try to stop me. I must go. He is my life. Without him, I cannot survive. Perhaps my pleas might soften even their hardened hearts. If not, then I’ll meet my fate alongside him.’

Seeing Mangli get up and sit, a few people gathered around her. They too tried to dissuade her, but she was unyielding, preparing to leave.

‘Alas, if only someone from the committee were here to advise her. Perhaps she would have listened to them,’ someone said softly.

‘How will you go alone? I’ll also come with you,’ said Kosi.

‘Why do you want to come, aunt? I’ll go alone. Why should you suffer as well?’ Mangli replied.

‘How can we let you go alone? Whatever hardships you’re going to endure, I’ll endure them with you,’ Kosi said firmly.

As Mangli and Kosi set off, the others stood still and watched with worried expressions, feeling helpless.

***

The camp was encircled by a fence of barbed wire. Inside the camp, there were small and large tents, a few houses, and a police station.People were sitting in groups inside the tents and outside —men, women, elders, and children—all appearing dejected, as if stripped of everything. Some moved mechanically, seemingly resigned to their fate, performing mundane tasks like fetching water, bathing children, or washing clothes.

Amidst them were armed police and Special Police Officers (SPOs), moving around, supervising, scolding, beating, intimidating, and mocking the camp’s inhabitants. This was Bijapur’s infamous relief camp, located two hours away from Mangli’s village.

Mangli and Kosicame to Bijapur for the sole purpose of reaching the relief camp. As soon as they enteredBijapur, the SPOs (Special Police Officers) dragged them to the camp.

‘We’ve come to stay in the camp,’ they pleaded, but no one listened. They were taken into a room inside the camp, where police officers, Judum leaders, and SPOs were sitting on chairs and benches. Some were standing nearby.

‘Who are these people?’ asked Judum leader Kannal, looking at them as if they were insects.

‘They’re from Kake Korma, mama. They said they’ve come to stay in the camp,’ an SPO replied.

‘Ah, people from Kake Korma? That village is full of troublemakers. They wholeheartedly support the Naxalites. That’s why no one from their village has surrendered. Don’t trust them,’Kannal declared.

‘It’s true, sir. We’ve come here to stay,’ Mangli said, her voice trembling as she faced them. Her heart was pounding, and her throat felt dry. Kosi was just as frightened.

‘You two came alone? Where are your husbands and children?’ one of them asked.

‘My husband is dead, sir. I have only one son, and you people already brought him here. She is my aunt; she has no one else,’ Mangli replied.

‘Oh, so you came here because we captured your son. Otherwise, you wouldn’t have bothered coming, would you?’Kannal mocked, laughing cruelly. The others joined in. Even the CRPF (Central Reserve Police Force) and Naga policemen, who didn’t understand the conversation in the Koya language, laughed along.

Mangli lowered her head, unable to meet their eyes.

‘You thought you’d sweet-talk us and take your son back, didn’t you?’Kannal sneered.

‘No, Anna. There’s nothing left for us in our village. Everything is burnt to the ground. I’ll stay here with my son. We’ll do some work and live here. We have no reason to return to that place,’ Mangli pleaded.

‘Your son worked for the militia, didn’t he? How can we let him go?’Kannal asked.

‘He didn’t know what he was doing. He just went along with others. It was a mistake, sir. I apologize on his behalf. Please forgive him and let him go,’ Mangli begged, her eyes brimming with tears.

‘Let him go? He hasn’t even said a single word about the Party. We’ll tear him to pieces if needed…’Kannal threatened.

‘Please, sir, he knows nothing about the Party. How can he tell if he doesn’t know? Don’t torture him. I beg you. I’ll fall at your feet,’ Mangli cried desperately.

At that moment, a few more SPOs entered the room. One of them was from a nearby village and recognized Mangli.

‘This woman works with the women’s organization, sir. Both she and her son fully support the Naxalites,’ the man informed Kannal.

‘Ah, is that so? She came here to fool us and take her son away. Drag her to the other room, and bring her son here too. We’ll deal with them properly,’Kannal commanded.

Immediately, Mangli was forcibly dragged to another room.

‘Please don’t harm her! She doesn’t know anything,’Kosi cried as she tried to follow, but the SPOs shoved her away and blocked the door. Shortly after, Mangli’s son Sukku was brought into the room.

As soon as Mangli saw Sukku, tears welled up in her eyes. Grief overwhelmed her, and her heart sank. His face was swollen, eyes were bloodshot, hair was dishevelledand his shirt was torn.

‘Oh, my son! How much they must have tortured him,’ Mangli thought, her motherly heart breaking. She longed to hold him close, but her arms were held in a vice like grip by the SPOs.

Seeing his mother, Sukku thought, ‘Oh no, how did she get caught?’ The thought of the torture he had endured made him shudder. He wondered if his mother had faced the same and wanted to comfort her, but the SPOs holding him wouldn’t let him take a single step toward her.

‘Please let me hold my son. Let me go to him. I’ll bow down to you, I beg you,’ Mangli pleaded tearfully.

‘Sure, we’ll let you hold him, don’t worry,’Kannal said with a wicked smile as he walked over to Mangli and pulled off her clothes. His vile intent was clear.

The others laughed cruelly, and the room echoed with their inhuman laughter. Mangli begged, cried, and pleaded, but the beasts ignored her and attacked her without mercy.

‘Don’t do anything to my mother. If you want, kill me, but don’t harm my mother!’ Sukku cried out loudly, tears streaming down his face as he struggled helplessly. Watching his anguish, the others in the room laughed as though it were a form of entertainment. Unable to bear the sight of his mother in such a state, Sukku wished he could gouge out his own eyes. But since that wasn’t possible, he closed them tightly. The agonized cries of his mother rang in his ears like thunderclaps, piercing his heart.

‘Hey, open your eyes and see!’ some of the SPOs (Special Police Officers) commanded, hitting him. When he refused, the group began hurling insults and beating him mercilessly.

Amidst the unbearable violence, Mangli pleaded, ‘Oh, please! Spare my son! Don’t hurt him!’

Listening to the cries of the mother and son from inside the room, Kosi, standing outside, was overwhelmed with grief. She begged the guards at the gate, ‘Please, let me inside! That’s my daughter-in-law and my grandson!’

‘Hey, old woman, get out of here. Or else, you’ll meet the same fate,’ snapped one of the SPOs, pushing her roughly. She fell hard, sprawling on the ground.

After a while, everyone left the room. Sukku was also dragged away. Mangli lay in the middle of the room, unconscious from her struggles and cries.

Seeing everyone leave, Kosi slowly got up and entered the room. The sight of Mangli lying there in a pitiful state broke her heart. Kosi had heard of the atrocities against women as part of Salwa Judum, but witnessing it with her own eyes made her stomach churn and filled her with sorrow. Somehow, she gathered her strength. Unable to bear the sight, she picked up a piece of cloth lying nearby and covered Mangli. Sitting beside her, with tears streaming down her face, she softly called out, ‘Mangli, Mangli.’

Mangli groaned faintly but didn’t open her eyes. Kosi wiped her tears, stepped out, and fetched some water from a nearby tent. Returning to Mangli’s side, she sprinkled some water on her face and gently wiped it with her saree. Slowly, Mangli opened her eyes, staring blankly into the void, avoiding Kosi’s gaze.

‘Oh, dear child, what have they done to you…’Kosi said in a broken voice, pulling Mangli close.

Mangli said nothing. Her eyes, dry from crying so much, stared emptily ahead.

‘Drink some water, dear,’Kosi urged, pouring a little into her mouth. Mangli took a small sip and turned her face away. Gently, Kosi helped her sit up and wrapped her in her clothes. Mangli, drained of energy, slumped back to the ground and began to cry heart breakingly, ‘What wrong did I do, aunt?’

‘Don’t say that, dear. Those people aren’t humans, they are utter beasts’Kosicursed them bitterly.

‘Where did they take my son?’ Even in her own misery, Mangli worried about her son.

‘They took him to the police station,’Kosi replied.

‘Oh no, I don’t think they will let him go. They might kill him,’ Mangli sobbed, more anguished about her son’s plight than her own suffering.

‘Don’t think like that, dear. Whatever’s meant to happen will happen. What can we do about it?’Kosi tried to comfort her, stroking her head.

Kosi wanted to leave the place and go back the way they had come. But she knew the armed guards wouldn’t let them go. Slowly, Kosi helped Mangli to her feet, supporting her as they walked outside. Leading her to a nearby tree, Kosi said, ‘Sit here, dear.’

Mangli sat down mechanically, then slumped to the ground as though even sitting upright required too much energy.

The sun was setting in the west. From a distance, some people stared at Mangli, but no one came near. The women stood far away, sighing deeply with sadness. As darkness fell, some people lit fires and began cooking with large vessels for all the people detained in the camp. Even in this horrific situation, the people forcibly detained in the camp clung to the hope of survival—for themselves and their children. That hope drove them to perform these tasks mechanically. Mothers sat with their frightened children huddled beside them. Play and songs had become distant memories for the little ones.

As night descended, Kositold Mangli,‘There’s a borewell nearby. Come, Mangli, wash yourself. It’ll make you feel better,’ she urged.

Kosi wrapped an arm around Mangli’s shoulder and gently guided her toward the borewell. Mangli walked as if in a daze. Kosi asked for a bucket of hot water from a nearby house and returned with it. She poured the warm water over Mangli, rinsing off her clothes and wringing them out before wrapping them back around her. Mangli remained motionless, like a lifeless doll.

Kosi too, had been pushed and beaten by the SPOs, and her body ached all over. But Mangli’s suffering weighed far heavier on her heart.

Kosi also washed herselfand later took Mangli to a tent near the cooking area. Mangli, unable to sit by the fire, collapsed on the ground. Someone, moved by compassion, spread a mat of palm leaves for her. Mangli lay down on it, utterly drained. Her mind felt numb, her thoughts paralyzed.

‘What will they do to my son…?’ Even in that terrible condition, that was the only thought repeatedly haunting her.

After a while, Kosi brought some gruel in a glass and gently said, ‘Drink a little, child.’

‘No, I don’t want it…’

‘If you don’t, how will you survive? You haven’t had a morsel since morning…’

‘No, I don’t want anything, Mangli said, curling up further.

A few women came closer. Looking at her lying in the light of the fire, they gazed at her sympathetically.

‘Drink a little, child. What else can we do? We are living in evil times. Who would have thought our lives would become this miserable…’ an old woman sighed.

As they all kept persuading her with their words, she sat up, forced herself to swallow a couple of gulps of the gruel, and lay back down again.

***

It had been a month since Mangli came to the camp. At some point, Kosi had suggested escaping, but Mangli refused. She said they would kill her son if she left. Kosi couldn’t bring herself to abandon Mangli and stayed back with her.

‘You go leave, aunt. Why go through this trouble for me?’ Mangli had said.

‘How can I leave you in this state and just walk away?’Kosi replied.

The men who had assaulted Mangli roamed around the camp daily, right in front of her eyes. They mocked her, and though her blood boiled with rage, she remained silent, lowering her eyes. She swallowed her humiliation.

Every day, she tried to go close to her son, when they broughthim out briefly in the morning for nature’s call, but they never let her approach him. If she tried, they would push her away or beat her. Still, she kept trying and faced the blows.

She went to the police station daily, pleading, ‘Please release my son… If you release him, we’ll stay here; we won’t go anywhere.’ Sometimes, in anger, she cursed them.

Mangli didn’t speak to anyone in the camp. She sat silently, staring into space like a madwoman. When someone spoke to her, she gave short replies. If Kosi brought her food, she ate it unwillingly.

‘If not for Kosi, who would look after me?’ she thought, her heart filling with gratitude. Sometimes, her mind became clouded with confusion. She couldn’t understand where she was.She wondered why she had left behind her home, yard, granary, woods, and streams for this cramped and filthy place. She used to wander fearlessly through dense forests, amidst wild animals and venomous snakes. Then, why was she now so terrified of these people? She couldn’tunderstand.When she saw the guns in their hands, her heart would boil with anger.

Often, she remembered Kamli and others like her. She had always admired the guns slung across their shoulders.

‘This one was captured during a particular ambush,’ Kamli had saidonce, and Mangli had touched the gun with pride. Those guns seemed like they were meant for them.

She regretted not listening to Kamli a year ago and sending her son to join the squad. If she had done so, neither she nor her son would be facing these difficulties now.

Finally, Mangli’s wait ended. Sukku was released. He returned to his mother, weak and lifeless like a corpse. Yet, Mangli was grateful that he was alive. She washed his wounds with her tears and treated the swellings on his body with hot water fomentation.

Every day, when Kosi brought food, Mangli barely managed to eat. But that day, she herself went and brought food. She forced her son to eat, feeding him lovingly.

She remembered Sukku’s favouritecurry made with ants, which he used to eat with relish. But how could she make it here? If they had been in their village, she could have got the ants easily and made the curry.

***

‘Sukku, you managed to escape somehow along with your mother. If they catch you again, they won’t let you live. That’s why it’s better to join the squad. I’ll talk to your mother. If she agrees, fine. If not, you should still join the squad, even if it means going against her wishes,’ Kamli said persuasively.

The two of them were sitting under a tree on a polythene sheet. It was just beginning to get hotter.

‘No, Akka. I can’t leave my mother and join the squad,’ Sukku replied, lowering his head.

‘What’s this, Sukku? You’ve been adamant about joining the squad all these days. What happened now?’

‘I realized that my mother cannot live without me. Otherwise, why would she have entered that hellhole for me and gone through all that suffering?’

‘That’s true, Sukku. But they released you because they believed you would stay there. If they catch you again, they will put you through worse troubles. We will convince your mother…’

‘Even if my mother agrees, I won’t come, Akka. If I come away, who will look after her? The SalwaJudum goons caused her so much trouble. Now, she doesn’t even have the strength to work like she used to…’

‘If the Judum continues like this, countless mothers like yours will be sacrificed Sukku. We need to stop this,and to stop it, there is no other way but to intensify the war. Tell me Sukku, how can the war intensify if youths like you don’t join? Don’t you want to teach a lesson to those who are tormenting mothers like yours? Don’t you want to defeat the Judum?’

‘I don’t just want to teach them a lesson, Akka; I want to tear them to pieces, one by one. From now on, take me along on all your attacks. I want to slaughter them the way we dealt with the ones at Errabore and Ranibodli,’Sukku replied with fury.

‘Our platoons and companies need to growto carry out such attacks. How can that happen if young men and women like you don’t join?’

‘I can’t stay far from my motherAkka. If I stay in the militia, I can fight the war and also stay close to her,’ Sukku insisted.

No matter how much Kamli tried to persuade him, Sukku stood firm in his decision.

At that moment, they saw Mangli coming from afar. ‘Ammais coming,’Kamli said as she got up to greet her. She saluted Mangli with a “Lal Salaam”, placed a comforting hand around her shoulder and held her close. Tears welled up in Mangli’s eyes, and Kamli’s heart melted. ‘She used to be so spirited,but she is so despondent now,’ Kamli thought.

‘How are you, akka?’ Kamli asked in her native tongue.

Mangli nodded in response, offering no words, and walked with Kamli to a nearby spot covered with a sheet of polythene. ‘Come, let’s sit,’Kamli said.

‘Have the pains eased a bit? Why did you go, Akka? Don’t we know how cruel they are? We came to the village the day you left for Bijapur. If only we had come earlier, we would have stopped you from going…’

‘If I didn’t go they might have killed Sukku, Kamli,’ Mangli replied.

Kamli remained silent, acknowledging the truth in her words.

‘Well, somehow you managed to escape,’ Kamli said after a pause.

Then she added, ‘They are committing so many atrocities, Akka. They are burning down houses, destroying crops, killing cattle, and abducting people. They kill whoever they come across, or they subject them to brutal torture and keep them in camps. They even recruit some of our people as SPOs (Special Police Officers) and use them against us. And if they see women, they carry out brutal sexual attacks on them. This pain is not yours alone. This government and the Judumgoons that have caused us so much suffering will never be forgiven by history. The people and the movement will certainly avenge these atrocities.

That process has already begun. The Judum militia that committed all these horrors is now being wiped out. Erraborepolice station is also like Bijapur police station. We raided it and killed 33 of them. Likewise,we attacked Ranibodli police station and killed 55 of them. We lost six of our comrades in those battles. We’ve carried out many ambusheson their forces while they were coming to carry out attacks on our villages or while they were returning after the attacks, and killed many Judum members. Our resistance has grown stronger, and as a result, the Judum is now in decline. You must have realized by now that their unchecked reign of terror is no longer there.’

Mangli listened attentively, and for the first time in a long while, she felt a small sense of relief from her wounds.

‘Kamli, I made a mistake in not sending Sukku to the squad when you asked earlier. Take him now,’ Mangli said firmly.

Kamli, who had been struggling to find a way to convince her, was momentarily speechless. She realized that Mangli’s own life experiences had made her understand the necessity of the struggle. The growing revolutionary victories were making the people more favourable to the revolution.

‘I told Sukkuthe same akka, but he is refusing to leave you in this condition and join the squad,’ Kamli said.

‘Call him. I’ll speak to him myself,’ Mangli said.

Kamli called Sukku over. He sat down.

‘Sukku – I made a big mistake earlier by not sending you into the squad. Now, I’m telling you earnestly to join them, go,’ Mangli said.

Sukku was astonished by this change in his mother. ‘I know, Amma, why you’re asking me to leave now. You’re afraid that I’ll be caught by them again, if I stay. But I’ll be careful. How can I leave you behind like this?’ Sukku replied.

‘Sukku, I was wrong before. I thought you should stay with me to support me. But this lootisarkar (exploitative government) has targeted us, my child. Your support alone is not enough to protect me from them. Our army needs to grow. How will it grow if young people like you don’t join? If you join our army, you’ll be a support for countless mothers like me. So, as Kamli said, you must join the squadand you must enlist many more like you into the movement,’ Mangli said.

‘But how will you manage alone, Amma?’ Sukku asked, worried.

‘When our Janatana Sarkar (People’s Government) worked well, it used to support lone women like me but the Judum’s attacks have made it dysfunctional. Once our Sarkarstands strong again, there will be no more suffering for people like me. Our struggle will advance, and our Sarkarwill stand strong onlyif youths like you join our army. So don’t worry about me. If nobody elseshould face what I’ve faced, the Judum must end, and this rogue government that supports it must fall,’ Mangli said resolutely.

A mother’s instructions on duty ware strengthening her son’s revolutionary resolve.

***

(This is an attempt to depict the bitter experiences many women in Bastar underwent to protect their husbands and children from the atrocities of Salwa Judum. It is also an attempt to recordthe sacrifices of these mothers in sending their children to the PrajaSena (People’s Army) to heal their wounds and fight the atrocities of the Judum. This is written in solidarity with the people of Bastar, whose lives have been devastated by the Judum.)

Notes:

Anna –elder brother, but this term is also used by people to address male comrades

Akka –elder sister, but this term is also used by people to address female comrades

Amma – mother

Mahua –is the Adivasi name of Madhucalongifolia or Indian Butter Tree which is abundantly found in the areas inhabited by the Adivasis in the central Indian highlands. Adivasis collect both the ripened seeds and the mahua flowers after they have been shed. Besides the dietary value of the flowers and fruits, they are also used to make alcohol, which is the most popular Adivasi drink.

Lungi – is a men’s skirt usually tied around the lower waist below the navel.

Lal salaam– Red Salute

Janatana Sarkar– the people’s government

Salwa Judum– a Gondi term which literally means ‘peace march’. In reality, the Judum was a vigilante force that was mobilised and deployed as part of the counter-insurgency operations from 2005 to 2011 in Chhattisgarh, India, with the aim of wiping out Naxalite activities in the region.

Party – Communist Party of India (Maoist)

First published in Arunatara,(November–December 2011

Translated by N. Ravi