Yeh Kya Ho Raha Hai!!!

I’ve often been critical and, on many occasions, a cynical person. I also tend to avoid communicating my views where I don’t see a point. While on one hand it avoids unpleasant interactions and controversies, on the other hand it supresses the feeling, denying them a vent. Perhaps due to this, during the last few months, my behaviour, communication and even thoughts have become bitter. The delay in house construction (against the estimated time) and a few more factors have intensified this bitterness. I’ve tried to understand and express this feeling in a couple of blog posts. This one is another attempt at understanding this state and also communicating with all those to whom, my behaviour might have appeared rude, arrogant, uncaring, critical or cynical.

Let me begin from the time we moved out of Mumbai. At this time, there was none of this bitterness, as far as I can recollect.

During these first few months, we met many people, who belonged to the self-proclaimed ‘alternate’ sphere. If not their actions, at least their thoughts were alternate. We were applauded for our clarity of thought and courage to act. Many of them genuinely respected us, many loved and cared for us. It was during these months, that a I acquired a sense of moral high-ground. From this high ground, I started looking down upon people who could not act on their convictions, people who kept making excuses for their inaction, who were caged in their insecurities, who did not care enough for their own and their loved ones’ health, education of children, environment, social justice and the like. What could be more, many of them reinforced these notions by admitting it themselves. I even told a few friends that I find myself uninterested in discussing their petty problems; that if they were really wanted to solve their problems, then and only then should they engagge into discussing them. All my communication stemmed from this sense of superiority. My decision to move into an untrodden path had already alienated me. This sense of superiority increased the distance even more.

I was perhaps too busy to notice this then. We shifted to Barkheda, lived through testing times, got ourselves used to cooking on chulha, working and interacting with village labourers, giving our children the environment we wanted to. I engaged in physical hard work, lost the flab I’d accumulated during my elite urban lifestyle. I could notice that not many could actually do or even think of doing what we had already done. The sense of superiority hightened further. From this higher plane, I began despising all those alternate thinkers, who could not bring themselves to do what I was doing. I became critical of many of their actions and characteristics. For some reason, I felt that they agreed with me and accepted their inferiority.

Then came in the first glimpse of ground reality. There was a confrontation and we were told that all our courage, morality, ability to adapt to wilderness and such characteristics notwithstanding, we will have to live by the prevailing rules of the game. I cried foul, “But you said you were alternate and you will abide by principles.” They said, “Yes, but who said that we will abide to ‘your’ principles?” Despite all efforts, they stuck to their stand. We had to move out of Barkheda and write off all work we’d done. This event shook me at a very fundamental level. This was a big blow to my sense of superiority. This currency of superiority did not have much value.

In the next few months, my sense of superiority kept on getting beaten. We got appreciation but no more. I dug deeper into this anger at the Barkheda group, at a few others, who were unappreciative or indifferent. The realisation dawned that it was incorrect of me to view myself at a moral high ground. All events and behaviours are program-run and there is no credit or guilt that one can take for his actions or decisions. What we do, rather, whatever happens is simply the result of the interaction of numerous variables. My characteristics are participants in this reaction and my characteristics in turn are the result of reaction between some other variables. So what am I, but an illusion. Whatever happened in Barkheda was exactly as it was supposed to happen.

I grew out of my sense of superiority – at least intellectually. At a much deeper level, the acceptance of this realisation did not happen. Even now, this realisation hasn’t reached the sub-conscious level. Even today, the sponteneous response to an event or communication follows the same pattern. But when I become conscious of the response, I need to remind myself.

We’ve reached an interesting point here. During the last few months, I’ve been struggling to get the thoughts together, but was constantly getting driven off-track by the emotions. This is probably the benefit of writing.

Let me briefly elaborate the realisation before I get to the interesting point. The realisation is that whatever happens is a function of a complex equation involving multiple variables and cannot be attributed to personal characteristics alone. Also, that personal characteristics like courage, patience, etc are themselves a result of some other complex equation involving multiple variables. Therefore the ‘I’ is an illusion, whereas the reality is that I am nothing but a means or machinery of execution.

The interesting point is that there is a gestation for this realisation to get accepted in the sub-conscious. The deeper level acceptance is yet to happen.

Now, while the sense superiority has been beaten down and the realisation is yet to enter a deeper level, my social needs started surfacing. I realised that I don’t belong anywhere. People around me, in the villages have no clue about me. They still haven’t figured out who I am, why am I here, what is it that I’m doing or attempting. Sometimes they look at me with suspicion, sometimes with wonder, sometimes with greed, sometimes with need. My friends and colleagues in the city don’t know what to talk to me. I’ve probably offended many of them and haven’t even said sorry. The new ‘alternate’ social circle doesn’t include me. I’m yet unable to comprehend the reasons, but the fact is that I don’t belong there too.

As I view myself today, I am not able to justify why I’ve got myself and my family in the situation where we’re facing challenges and facing them alone. Of course, the change in lifestyle has resulted in tremendous benefits. The benefits are so large that we cannot decide to return to the earlier lifestyle.

I know that I’m not going through a very enthusiastic phase. But I also know that this phase has arrived after a forward movement in my journey. I must go through this. There  is no other way...

Status Update

I haven’t been writing much for the last 7-8 months. I was completely engrossed in construction of the house. It was hard work. I lost more weight (I weigh 60 kg now) and feel much fitter. Mentally though, I am drained. The house is yet not ready to move in. The rains have arrived. We did our best to adequately cover the mud walls so as to protect them from rain and moved to Mumbai. Hope that rains and thunderstorms will not cause any major damage.

So much delay in getting the house ready was unexpected. After almost 7 months, I haven’t been able to build a place suitable enough to stay. I’m unable to describe how I feel about it. Just not able to find the words. It is important that I articulate this feeling, more so for my own understanding, but it is not happening right now. May be, I’ll try some other time.

The process of house construction was quite interesting. I played the roles of an architect, a contractor, helper mason and manual labourer. Of course, I was also the client too. The location of the house had to be close to the water source. The first step therefore was to call the water diviner to identify the spot, where I can bore a well. A hand pump appeared an appropriate option for water as compared to an open well. Having identified the spot, any further work could begin only after drilling the borewell, so that we’re sure we’ve struck sufficient water. Drilling a borewell is a 3-4 hour job, but finding the vendor was not quick.

In a rural setting, one should get that work done, for which the vendor is available. The borewell vendor was not available immediately. The next step was to create an elevation on which the house would be built. The borewell spot having identified, I knew where the elevation could be created. Rocky earth was to be dug and moved from nearby (approx 0.5 km away)to this location. The JCB was available for a couple of days. In two days, 113 trolleys loads of earth was moved creating an elevation of about 4.5’ in a 30’ X 40’ area. This was based on a tentative layout of the house. Rekha was in staying Mumbai with the kids then. We could not decide where we would stay till the house is ready enough. The layout was still being discussed and the elevation was done. Not the right sequence. Discussion about the layout was happening over phone. Simulteneously I was trying to find someone, who will make the sun dried bricks, the mason, manual labours and vendor for the borewell. There was a phase, when nothing at all seemed to be moving. Days would pass without any hint of progress. The experience of house building in Barkheda had taught me that there is no point in forcing pace. Progress will happen only when the time is ripe. So, I waited. Meanwhile, the layout plans kept getting modified. At one stage, we felt that the elevation was created at the wrong place. But what the heck; there was no option of relocating that much earth.

After one month, restlessness started creeping in. I was staying away from my family in the hope that in about a month or 45 days, there will be some place to start living – at least a small room. Now, this seemed unlikely. Besides, city living was not doing the kids any good. We began exploring options for living in some rented place.  Nothing worthwhile was available in the village. Devri, the nearest large village (7 km away) had options, but I was not convinced about us staying in Devri and commuting to the farm to work on the house construction. Rekha did not see any other option. Staying in Devri was, from one perspective, better than staying in Mumbai.

Shashi had built a small mud house when he’d just shifted to the land. This is a single room of approx 120 sq ft. During the last rains, water had seeped through its floor. In October, it was impossible to live there. The roof was also not water-proof. But we were in December. The room had sufficiently dried. I felt that this option was not convenient, but better than staying in Devri. Rekha was not convinced. The room had window and door frames fitted, but no doors and windows. There was no toilet, no wash area or bathroom, no water and electricity. I promised her that I’ll make it as livable enough. We discussed the details and she agreed to consider, but only after making one visit to inspect the place. For the door and windows, I got plywood cut to the required size and fixed them in the frame with hinges. Doors and windows done. One stone of 3’X2’ served as the washing area. One 100 litre tank for water storage was our water source. Water was to be filled from Shashi’s open well. If there is solar batteries are sufficiently charged, water can be pumped, else carried in buckets for about 100 – 150 metres. We’d learnt to live without electricity. We have a solar light (a very thoughtful gift from a friend), which was good enough for the evening. Mobile and laptop could be charged in Shashi’s house, also the occasional use of mixer or grinder. Toilet was still a question mark. I did not need a toilet, because I used the fields. The children could also be trained. Shashi had a conventional toilet in his house, just in case we were not able to make any provision close by.

All this took almost a week, while efforts on other areas were on. Rekha made a two day inspection visit. We had to choose the least out of two or three inconvenient options. We chose to stay in the one room mud house. Both of us made a Mumbai visit and returned with the kids.

The ordeal on the house construction front continued like a thriller movie. There was no end in sight. The ‘to do’ list kept on increasing but the ‘done’ list was almost blank. There were just too many vendors to be found. Slowly, but surely, we found someone to make the sun-dried bricks, the borewell vendor, the mason and labourers as well. After the borewell was done, we had to recall the JCB for a day. 56 more trolleys of earth was moved to create additional elevation around the proposed hand pump and additional width to support the revised layout. My estimate of expense was quite ok, but estimate of time turned out to be grossly wrong.

One factor, which posed unsurmountable challenge was ‘unseasonal rain’. It rained in every month since we shifted there. The ‘chaukas’ (sun-dried briks) were laid out to dry in the sun. Approx 2000 chaukas were made when the first bout of rain came in. The morning it became very overcast, the labour were yet to come in. All 4 of us rushed to the work site and began gathering the chaukas at one place and stack them together. Each chauka is nothing less than 5 kg. It was back-breaking task. It rained for about 2-3 days and we were happy we protected the chaukas. After the rains, I realised that a few of them, which were exposed to rain, did not wither away. Infact, they dried and were still fit to be used. Afterall, it didn’t rain too much.  When the rain stopped and the sunlight was back, the chaukas in stacks had to be again spread out to dry – another back breaking job.

Rain caused multiple damage. Firstly, there was no work on the rainy day. Secondly, once the chaukas were wet, they had to be given at least a week or 10 days of good sunlight to dry. The amount of hardwork involved in stacking and un-stacking the chaukas led me to decide not to stack them even when it rained. They could withstand minor showers for a couple of days. So, the next bout of showers, I decided not to do anything. By this time, 5k were made, of which 2k were stacked. They chaukas braved another bout of rain. It caused delay because they had to be left for drying again, but at least the effort to stack and unstack was saved. Anyway I hadn’t found any regular labourers. Work continued in bits and starts. Sometimes there was no work because people were unavailable, sometimes rain.

But then it rained again, and again and once again. We’d used up just about 1000 – 1500 chaukas out of 5000, when we realised that the ones spread out have been quite badly damaged. Three bouts of rain proved to be more than what they could bear. We were already in the beginning of March by this time. Thoughts about the effort of re-doing and the amount of more time required resulted in considerable depression.

Holi is a big festival in these areas. Our house was supposed to be ready for occupancy by this time. But it was now clear that we’ll have to restart much of the work. We took a break and visited a friend in Kota.

Work began after we came back, but soon stopped, because it was harvesting time. Labour was in demand and became scarce. Wages shot up. The threat of rain was looming and even the farmers were concerned. I thought it unfair and inappropriate that I should pay more as a reaction. I waited for about a week. Harvesting was almost done but my boys were not to be seen. I gave a re-thought to the wage issue. An increase in rate from 150 to 200 for those working well seemed quite fair. I did so. From then on, there were a few new boys on the scene. Work caught some pace and there was some respite from rain.

The subsequent phase was quite also eventful. By early June, pre-monsoon showers began. The mud house we were staying will become unhabitable and the house is not fully ready. We were not able to find a vendor to complete the roof work. The mud walls need to be protected from rain. We’ve done a temperory roof and covered the walls with two layers of plastic sheets.

We’re back to Mumbai. It seems quite unlikely that we’ll be able to finish any of the construction work during monsoon. Hope and pray that there is no major damage to the work done so far. Rains apart, thunder storms are an everyday affair in that area. Being in an open field, storms can cause damage.