My name is Dipak Kumar. My ancestors were farmers. I am 29 now and I am a farm labourer in a small village on the border of Bihar and Uttar Pradesh. My grandfather had a plot of land, a small one where he farmes vegetables. Most of the time he worked on Seth Anubhuti Lal’s lands as a labourer. When he passed away the Seth took away that land as a part of a loan payment that my grandfather had taken from him. Since then both me and my father, along with my brothers, have been working as farm labourers for the Seth.
I married when I was 24. My father had arranged my marriage with a girl in a neighbouring village in lieu of two sickly cows. Julie, my wife, was just 17 then. We now have a 5 year old daughter Pushpa, a 3 year old son Rahul, and a six month old infant Ramesh. We live with my brothers and my mother, my father passed away a few years ago, in a small shanty in my village.
Work is hectic on the Seth’s farms and he does not pay us much. Most of the year there is no job at all. We thought all the new government schemes to provide jobs for us for some 100 days in a year or so would ease our woes – but they are nowhere in sight. The first year there was work and the pay was decent but then it just stopped. The panchayat pradhan said that there was no money to pay us. The only other way to earn money in the village was to join the various political parties and act as their crooks. I tried to enrol, at least no one would mess with my family then and the money would be decent, but they said that I was too weak to be recruited. I joined Laluji’s party, the RJD for some time and went to their meetings. They paid us some money and gave us food at the end of the meetings. It also gave me the opportunity to go to a few villages and towns with my family for free. It was fun but was not enough to feed my family properly. I started looking for some other way. I was too scared to rob or steal so that route was closed. It was then that I noticed one day that my little daughter Pushpa could walk on a rope!
It was at a fair near our village. The fair used to come every year and stay for about a fortnight. One day I was working on the Seth’s farm when someone said that Pushpa was doing something amazing at the fair. I finished my work and set off for the fair. There I found Pushpa, wearing her red worn out pants walking on a tight-rope some 6 feet above the ground! I could not believe my eyes. I stood there for a long time staring at her performing. Finally, making up my mind, I walked over to the owner of the show and asked him to take Pushpa under his wing. The guy refused saying that he could not maintain her and anyway he already had two performers. I had wanted Pushpa to have a better life than I could provide. If she had gone with this guy she would have had enough money to live a decent life by performing as a tight-rope walker. But that was not to be.
I thought about the incident for a few days and talked it over with my wife. We decided to make her a tight-rope near our house where Pushpa could practice. She soon became very good at it and she could even dance while walking. An acquaintance of my brother asked me why I did not take the girl to the city to perform. He said Calcutta was a great city where Pushpa could perform and earn some money. I dismissed the idea on the face. But then Julie and I discussed the prospects in private. One day, when the work on the Seth’s farm was over, we left for Calcutta.
Calcutta is a very big city. It was larger than even I had imagined it to be. There were so many people and it was very comforting to meet many Biharis there who had come there to work. We found accommodation in a small shanty near the station. It was very dark and damp but the place was alright. We managed. Every morning we used to go out to various parts of the city to perform. I carried the four bamboo poles, the rope and the dholak. My wife came along with our children. Pushpa used to be dressed in her favourite red pants and a green top with her hair tied with a ribbon and used to walk ahead. We put up the contraption at a street corner or a park and I used to yell out and gather people. Then when people had gathered around I used to take the dholak and played it while Julie sang. She has a very beautiful voice. Pushpa would walk too and fro on the rope and sometimes danced to the tune of the song. After the performance she used to get down from the rope and go around the spectators with a bowl collecting whatever they gave. Most people just watched and walked away without giving us a coin. But what we earned was enough for the five of us. Then we used to pack up and look for a new site to perform. We managed five six performances a day. This happened for about two months before we returned to our village, having saved a little money. It was never sufficient but we knew how to make do with it.
One day two strange white people came to our village and on hearing about Pushpa’s talent came to see her perform. The panchayat pradhan came along with them. He said that they were important people and that I should show them respect. They talked to me in a strange language. I understood nothing but kept my hands folded and nodded at whatever they said. There was a city man along with them who translated for them and asked me many things.
The white people wanted to know why I was making Pushpa earn a living, why was I not sending her to school, did I feel bad, did I think I was a good father. They said that what I was doing was wrong, that I was neglecting my duty as a father and that I should be jailed. I was very surprised at their reaction.
I am a father and I am proud of it. I love my children more than myself and would do anything to protect them. But I do not earn enough to feed them. I have tried many things to earn a living but have failed. No one will give me a job as I am illiterate and those who will pay meagre wages. What should I do? I cannot send my children to school as I have no money. If they do not work me and my wife cannot feed them with what we earn. We love them too much to sell them. I love my three children very much. I make Pushpa work because she can do what she does. She can walk on a tight-rope as easily as we can walk on a road. She just does what she can and we make some extra money so that we can feed the children. She knows what she is doing. Just because she is 5 does not mean she cannot understand. Even at this age she would rather go hungry than see her brothers not eat. Is what I am making my daughter do a crime? Yes, it is. But I cannot help it. I cannot see my children starve. Pushpa does what she has to do and she does it on her own. You folks who have never gone hungry and have never seen four pairs of hungry eyes staring at you will say that I should be jailed and that I am a bad father. May be I am, but what I do, I do to survive, for whatever you all say, none of you will take care of my Pushpa.
A subtle tale with a bow and an arrow!!
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