
वो मेरे साथी तब भी बिना थके चलते रहते हैं जब पुलिस उन पर नक्सली जासूस होने का आरोप लगाती है, जब उनके फ़ोन टेप होते हैं.

(Pic: A child in a village in the Saranda forest, Jharkhand)
They plod on even when police office accuse them of having links with the rebels or tap their telephones; or, in flamboyant conversations with the rare New Delhi journalist, accuse most local reporters of being "on their payroll".
They plod on not because there is a raise or congratulatory e-mail waiting for them. They do it because they know that somewhere they have become part of the story -- so deeply inter-twined with the lives of the people living in humiliating poverty that they cannot walk away from it.
They are India's true reporters. Even after years of travelling the beaten track, they will still get tears lining their eyes when they hear of the woman who died of third degree burns because she had nothing to cover herself on the winter night and slept too close top the fire.
They will never win any journalism awards or buy new cell phones or get a call and kindwords from the editor-in-chief or sit and give their views in a television channel's studio.
And they will never grudge others who do.
I salute them.


चित्र साभार (Photos courtsey): http://www.gutenberg.org/ व http://www.brocknroll.wordpress.com/
The Olympic shame – oops, flame -- passed through New Delhi today like a pampered head of state, watched by more than 20,000 men-in-arms, forcing thousands of homes and offices to keep their windows closed lest they be harbouring a sharpshooter, shutting down the heart of the city and inconveniencing tens of thousands of people to prevent Tibetan protesters from lunging at the torch headed for Beijing. India had pulled its colonial finery out of the closet.
And try finding the refugees at these markets. At most of these shops, you will find, have underpaid Indian servants of the Tibetan refugees. The new generation of the Tibetan in India is not a victim.और हाँ, आप भी.

To read the full version of this piece, which first appeared in the Span magazine, please go here.What would they talk about? Music, or the news?
My mother called today in excitement. For the first time ever, a fan had just started working in the remote village school my parents set up in 1972 in Uttar Pradesh.
He was a brilliant student. He worked through extreme hardship, worked his way through scholarships. From his village, he got an opportunity to get on a train for the first time, get on a plane for the first time, and travelled to Canada in the late 1960s to study geology.
In an area where no girl had gone to school before, parents began sending daughters to study because there was a woman principal in Nirmala Misra.



In another part of the state, a group of villagers stood in the sun in Dundu village with some eloquent proof of that: pieces of blank paper. The villagers were digging to build a pond in the insurgency-wracked Latehar district, under the rural jobs law that guarantees 100 days of employment each year.
The blank papers were job cards - the equivalent of a bank passbook. They showed how villagers had not got a single day of employment last year, even though Naxalites have allowed the project to run unhindered.
In some areas of Jharkhand, local Naxal units even put up posters urging villagers to claim their right to employment. "The Naxalites do not oppose NREGA. They ask us to work and demand employment," said Ram Avtar Singh, a 50-year-old Dundu villager, as he set aside his spade and fetched his blank job card from his home across the road. "If the officer at the district headquarters says that 'I cannot do this because the Naxal will shoot me', then that is just a good excuse for not doing their work."
It is a crisis of governance that resonates in tens of thousands of villages across insurgency-affected India, the very villages where sincere implementation of the jobs law is perhaps needed the most. One-third of the country - at least 200 of the 600-plus districts from Jammu and Kashmir to the Naxalite-affected dozen-odd states or the northeast - is currently under the shadow of armed movements.
Government officials in New Delhi as well as the states often say that that is the reason why the National Rural Employment Guarantee Act (NREGA) has not reached a huge section of people in areas like these. Dundu village lies in the Matlong region, a medley of steeplechase-like mud roads flanked on all sides by hills.
The SUV rolls past quiet villages, where men and women watch the strangers. No outsider comes to these parts any more.
So when NREGA was announced in 2005, it seemed like the godsend that would lift the villagers from crushing poverty.