Long live India! Blog 3 of 2012

Jai Hind

Yesterday I woke around 4.30 to hear persistent drumming which seemed to come from the direction of Kavanur Junction, just behind our windows. Already I am used to the all night shuffle and clang, whistle and roar of the frequent trains, which meld somehow into our dreams. It seemed someone had died nearby, and the funeral rites were starting early. We later discovered that the deceased was an auto-rickshaw driver who lived just outside the RUHSA campus (which is now protected by a high barbed-wire topped Colditz effect wall). He was young man in his forties who had had diabetes for years, apparently, and who left behind two young children. The funeral rites went on until dusk, around 6 in the evening, with many many fire-crackers going off all day long, the drumming, a procession with large numbers of marigold and rose flower yellow, magenta and green garlands, and the dead man on a flower-decorated cart. He was clearly part of a large family which gives us hope that his widow and children will be supported. Widowhood is a difficult thing in this country where there is no social-security safety net.

In the morning we had a meeting with Dr Rita which started badly with her complaining of our lateness, and Pam being unable to stop herself muttering ‘Yes, we wait many hours here ourselves’. After that things did improve as Rita and Sanjeevi the accountant talked us through how things will be managed in future for all our projects. This can be summed up as through Dr Rita in every direction and nothing without her knowledge and say-so. She is rigorous about systems which must be meticulous and consistent with all other CMC practice. I asked to have explained the protocol for them requesting funds/ assistance from us and us requesting action from them. This has been so obscure in the past that basically very little has ever been guaranteed to happen except when we have been visiting in person. We pinned it down to the last detail- basically as above, (through Rita at all times).

I felt happy in some ways to be clear, but still with a residual scepticism and a sadness for the way Rita dismisses the way things have been handled in the past. She is scathing of anything that went on before her time. Just as an example, though, The One Candle Fund has run since 2004, a simple Indian bank account which Mr Immanuel helped Pam to set up, and in that time it has made almost £900 interest, ie enough to fund the recipients for one whole year!

After the meeting Pam and I cycled to K V Kuppam, passing a lad who cut me down to size with his cheery ‘Hello grandma!’. We went to the bank to close the above money-making account down (everything now through Rita). Here we were dealt with by a lovely bank manager who was sad to lose our custom and who told us what a terrible loss Mr Immanuel is. Cue yet more weeping from Pam and I. The theme of this visit, how very much he is missed everywhere. The bank manager then proceeded to tell us how much legacy he left, and how his brothers are fighting over it! Astonishing lack of confidentiality. Many people can tell you the same facts though, so it is very much common knowledge. How anyone keeps anything secret here is impossible to imagine.

Today Thursday 26th January is Republic Day, so flag-hoisting, saluting and singing of national anthem at 7 o clock in the morning – alas we failed to make it! We were invited to Suresh’s home for lunch, so cycled there, seeing all along our route the evidence of yesterday’s funeral with garlands all over the road, some of which were being demolished by a small herd of goats. As we went through one village- the one with the big blue Elton John statue- there was clearly another large funeral in train. It being a national holiday all the lads who are our friends in Seetarampet were home from Chennai and will be here for the weekend too. We had the warmest of welcomes as always and much banter and photo taking, then Andy and I cycled home whilst Pam and Brian went on to another village to visit a family whom they befriended on their first visit here in 2002.
Once home I wrote this poem for Republic Day, entitled ‘Jai Hind’, which means something like ‘Long live India’.

Jai Hind

Today, Republic Day, a flutter of flags is hoist
And pinned on every shirt
Jai Hind for the orange, the white and green
Anthem and sharing of sweets
Jai Hind for the bony backs of cows
Who placidly graze
For goats in groups, ill-disciplined
Snacking on funeral flowers
Yesterday’s garlands of roses, marigolds
Yellow magenta and green
For the cheeping of chicks on stick-thin legs
The wood smoke sweet in the air
For bright green rice in the paddy fields
Mirroring the sky
For clouds on the ground and drowned
The coconut palms, reflection and blessed shade
For spread, red in rows, the chillies darkening
For women who weed and suffer the sun
Bent over bushes in fields

With all of her squalor, injustice and pain
And Tragedy’s frequent calls
Still India shines like a jewel in the sun
Beloved and beautiful land
She sings like a song that squeezes the heart
And smiles with the brightest gleam

Jai Hind for the orange the white the green
For Gandhi’s midnight dream