While returning from the Sunday church services, Karan Hasda Francis passionately sees his plot of red soil land by the side of the national highway. Francis patiently waits for the monsoon to arrive. He has followed the newspaper. It has already arrived in Kerala and within a month it will reach here.
Karan Hasda Francis’s forefathers came from a place near Ranchi, Jharkhand. Now they have 17 acres of land at Raghunathpur in Purulia district of West Bengal. For irrigation they have to depend upon the monsoons and the ground water which is depleting every year.
They are converted Christians. Though the education of his four sons and one daughter had been taken care of by the church, his second son has mostly run away from schools. Eldest son is a local school teacher; second one does odd jobs; the third one has passed ITI examinations (skilled labour) and is looking for a job; the youngest one is still studying in seventh standard; his daughter has eloped with her love to Delhi.
Its very hard times for Karan Hasda Francis wife to make both ends meet. She had been struggling to feed her family. Whatever crops they have from their land is equally divided between them and the tillers. Added to this are the numerous crops failure, wild elephants coming out from the forests and smashing the crops, erratic rainfall and low quality of seeds.
Karan Hasda Francis was toiling in the July sun trying to grow some vegetables in his backyard. A cavalcade stops near his house. People in designer suits come out from the cars. Maps were spread across the bonnet. Karan was curious. What was the motive of these people?
He runs to the church. He looks out for the father. He is the only person in the whole village who has some knowledge. A fear gripped him as he came to realize the real motive of the people who came from the big city. Is he going to loose his land again. Once his forefathers were driven out from the village by the upper caste community as they failed to pay their debts. Lands were taken away forcibly and houses were torched. The Hasda family was shattered. They crossed over to Bengal. They were given shelter by the church. They got back the will to live in this world.
A car manufacturing unit is going to come up at his village. Karan Hasda Francis heaved a sigh of relief as his land is not among the 400 acres of land as requisitioned by the car manufacturers. Though other land owners got huge compensation, Francis was thinking of other ideas. Political parties held rallies. They demanded more jobs for the locals. Seven Hundred jobs in a car making factory is just too few for them.
One and half years went by. The factory took its shape. It looked monstrous yet beautiful. Electricity came to Raghunathpur. The roads were widened. Potable drinking water was available. Satellite T.V made its entry. The Banks were desperate to open its branches at Raghunathpur. More ancillary industries came up in its surroundings. Prices of land shot up. People came from outside to work here. The population of Raghunathpur rose by thirty percent.
Money was flowing. Raghunathpur, once a dead village came back to life. Karan Hasda Francis wife was busy making food for the workers in the factory canteen. His eldest son is busy giving private tuitions. Second son of Francis now days drive a three wheeler through out the day ferrying people from railway station and bus stand to the factory. His third son has got a job in the factory. Francis has opened up a motel by converting a part of his house. All the rooms remains booked throughout the year.
The Francis family now days go to the church every Sunday morning in their new car.
Sitendu De is the author of this post.
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