Adventures in Aipotu: Episode 10, Part 1
Water, Water
"I am Bisakha", the woman formally introduced herself to Damini. "I am
Damini", the young girl replied. The two women -- one young, the other middle
aged -- walked back into the settlement. Weaving through hutments, they came
to a small courtyard. Some women sat talking and passing a smoke around. In
the stark landscape, the colorful clothes of the women stood out. The easy
laughter belied the toughness of their lives. Bisakha, holding Damini's
hand, walked into the group. Some women made some space for Bisakha and
Damini to sit. The smoke was passed to Bisakha who took a long puff and
passed it to Damini. Damini did not want to smoke so she passed it along.
"This is Damini", Bisakha said, introducing her to the group. "She has come
with Filo."
"Where are you from, Damini? Your clothes are so different", one rather
young woman asked.
"I am from a place called Earth", Damini replied. "It is rather far away and
very few people from Earth come here."
"No wonder, you speak differently and wear different clothes", an older
woman in a bright green dress replied.
"How do you find our place?", another older woman asked.
Damini was not sure whether she meant Aipotu or this settlement. Very
diplomatically, she replied. "It is different and it is interesting."
The women broke into a fit of laughter, cackling like a group of excited
geese. "She is being coy, is she not?", Bisakha asked, smiling.
Damini felt a little embarrassed. "Well, maybe I should reword my answer."
It is different
And it is the same
Aipotu or the Earth,
Whats in a name?
I have to sing
To move a boat
Yet I see people
Learn things by rote
Groups and loyalties
Fractions and factions
Limit your vision
By limiting interaction
A God who is not one
Humans who think they are
Things are the same
Even in places so far
I can talk to elephants,
Eagles, boats and God.
I can debate Aris Turtle
And advice a lord.
But once you overcome
Such differences in style
You see they are similar
An inch for a mile.
And yet, there is clarity
That on Earth I never felt
I now can sing poems
As they should be spelt
I can see a shovel
And call it a spade
And yet know another
Will see it as a blade.
"Now, that has left us more confused", the woman in the green dress
complained. "Where did you speak with God, and who is Aris Turtle?"
Bisakha smiled. "Let her be, Auntie", she chided the old woman. "In a new
place she sees things with fresh eyes. Ours have grown old and we must
sometime rely on the eyes of the young. Yet, she will learn from our wisdom.
That is the way of the world, is it not?"
"I do not know what world she speaks of when she describes our land", the
young woman replied. "My eyes are young yet and events I see are not colored
by filters of wisdom. And yet, I see a very different land."
A brown barrenness spreads
Across the land I live in
No clean water, little food.
Often I want to give in.
Old fogies for leaders
No vision at all.
Where we could be mighty
We are forced to be small.
Our children die
From thirst, from want.
Yet when the tanker comes
We say that we shan't
We shall not take
Your water!
Pride that we can't sustain
In any quarter.
I say lets take it
Lets move, if needed
What's the point of this
When our lives been bleeded!
"That's not correct grammar", the older woman interjected.
"Oh, come on, auntie", the young girl answered with obvious irritation. "You
know what I mean."
Another young woman who had been sitting quietly all this while piped up. "I
am not as good with words as Maya is (obviously referring to the young woman
who sang her doggerel), but I agree with her. When the people from Poke came
and offered us money to move out, we should have. Despite us not agreeing
with them, they come every week with tankers, offering us water. But, like
absolute morons, we refuse. We obstinately stick to our foolish ideas. We
will stay in this land, our traditional land, we claim. Well, we keep
sitting here as life dries out of our souls."
"If you want the water that the tankers bring, why don't you take it?",
Bisakha asked the young lady. "You know that there are no constraints on
families taking water from the tanker. Most of us do not want it, so we will
not take it."
"My father is living in the past, just like all of you. An old fossil that
lives in glorious times that existed who knows when. Who knows whether such
a time even existed."
Damini was all confused by this discussion. Here were people arguing
vehemently on some issue that she had no clue about. Seeing her frown, the
old woman in the green dress turned to her and said, "A few hundred miles
from here is a large city. There is a company called Poke that makes
beverages of different kinds. Those beverages are unhealthy, but that is
another issue. For years now, that company has drilled deep bore wells into
the land here and has been pumping out water. Subsequently, the water level
here has dropped remarkable. There is hardly any water in our wells that are
not quite as deep. While we are not able to get water to survive, Poke is
able to draw water to make beverages, which it sells. The question is who
has greater rights over water? A small community who needs water to survive
or a large company that needs water to make more profits? Once we began to
protest, the company began to put pressure on us to move. They said they
would pay us. They also began to offer some of us jobs in their company and
bring tankers over to give us some water. Ironic, is it not -- we cannot get
water in our own land but this company takes water from here for their own
use and brings back a few drops for us to use -- like throwing a dog a few
scraps. In fact, now they are trying to get the politicians to change the
laws so that companies can own water and sell it to people."
"But, why don't we move?" Maya asked again. "They are willing to give us
land, money and jobs."
