Some Fragments from Ghevra, by Lakhmi
When the land is flat for miles, even a slight elevation looks like a height. A road is being built around the land with a radius of two kilometers. It is three feet above the land it surrounds. This road will lead to Haryana. The path is littered with broken boulders. Several pairs of hands beat at them with hammers to flatten them into the earth.
It surrounds the land which will be developed into a settlement. The land is of a uniform hue of dust. Some houses are built on it. Not one is of a colour different from the rest. Those who have built them may not know each other, but colour ties all the houses together. Pale yellow, the colour of woven bamboo mats. Each mat for Rs. 16, and bamboo sticks for Rs. 60. All the houses stand in neat rows, clustered together in square blocks. Blue boards announce, “Block A”, “Block B”. Sunshine, wind and humans walk unabashedly into and out of any house. Which is the corner for cooking, and which will be used to store household things? The time to take this decision doesn't seem to have arrived yet.
It is afternoon. A slight wind is blowing. A man wearing a vest, his shoulders covered with a head cloth, is drenched in sweat. He is digging the earth with a pick-ax, removing the loosened earth with his hands. Seven to eight mats lie next to him, tied together with a think rope. Next to them are eight bamboo poles. First he has to convert the white marks made with DDT powder into a frame of his home. For this he plants small sticks along the marks. Then he picks up a bamboo pole and splits it along its length into two. In this way he now has six poles in place of three. Now he is ready to make a wall. He spreads one mat on the ground, tying the un-split pole to each of its edges. The split poles will be used to make the roof. Making a house will take him a few hours at least.
Across from him, Ramswarupji said while cooking, “We still have to get our bearings about this place. I used to sell vegetables and fruits on a hand drawn cart near where I lived, Gandhinagar. I had to sell everything off. I even had to sell some of my wife's things. Only then did I manage Rs. 6000, which has almost all been spent on making a house here. I came to Delhi from Bihar in 1979. I settled in Gandhinagar. It was so noisy there that I used to get troubled. But it is completely noise-less here. The only sound is of the bulldozers. There are so many people around us now, but no one speaks. They sit around noiselessly. I'm sure they all have stories similar to mine. Now think about it, first we have no money, and then these bamboo poles and mats cost so much.”
It is afternoon. A slight wind is blowing. A man wearing a vest, his shoulders covered with a head cloth, is drenched in sweat. He is digging the earth with a pick-ax, removing the loosened earth with his hands. Seven to eight mats lie next to him, tied together with a think rope. Next to them are eight bamboo poles. First he has to convert the white marks made with DDT powder into a frame of his home. For this he plants small sticks along the marks. Then he picks up a bamboo pole and splits it along its length into two. In this way he now has six poles in place of three. Now he is ready to make a wall. He spreads one mat on the ground, tying the un-split pole to each of its edges. The split poles will be used to make the roof. Making a house will take him a few hours at least.
Across from him, Ramswarupji said while cooking, “We still have to get our bearings about this place. I used to sell vegetables and fruits on a hand drawn cart near where I lived, Gandhinagar. I had to sell everything off. I even had to sell some of my wife's things. Only then did I manage Rs. 6000, which has almost all been spent on making a house here. I came to Delhi from Bihar in 1979. I settled in Gandhinagar. It was so noisy there that I used to get troubled. But it is completely noise-less here. The only sound is of the bulldozers. There are so many people around us now, but no one speaks. They sit around noiselessly. I'm sure they all have stories similar to mine. Now think about it, first we have no money, and then these bamboo poles and mats cost so much.”
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