Vibha Verma in Pissurlem
Kushali devotes at least one hour every day cleaning her truck with a hope that if not today, then at least tomorrow the iron ore transportation will resume. This is the tale of every house in the Oulem village in Sattari taluka where earning from plying iron ore was the only source of income before September 10, 2012, the day that changed their life.
The tiny hamlet in the interiors of Pissurlem has worn a deserted look since then with mining trucks, at every house parked in their respective compounds waiting to get back to the job.
“We would earn around two lakh rupees through the mining business annually. But our situation now is such that we are totally dependent on government funds,” she said while simultaneously feeding her dairy cow – the sole source of income since the mining ban.
In her 40s, Kushali is confident that Supreme Court’s order lifting the mining ban will improve her family’s financial condition. However, like her, many other villagers are oblivious about the exact order which has also placed a cap of 20 million tons on annual production from the mines.
“We have moved from riches to rags”, said Nandkishore Dessai.
His family if one may believe cannot afford milk tea twice a day nor has there been any festival celebrated with fervour. “We don’t have money to cook good food at home, what new clothes we will buy for any festivities? But I am confident, everything will fall back on track,” he said as he boasted of his science degree during the era when education was unaffordable to many.
Alternate arrangements have been made to earn. “None of our family members are employed”, said Leelavati. She sells seasonal fruit along the roadside that hardly fetches her Rs 500 to Rs 1000 per day.
Between hope and hopelessness, these mining-affected are caught in the time warp of the glory days of mining, yet struggle to gaze into the crystal ball of hope.
