The truth was a mirror in the hands of God,It fell and broke into pieces Everybody took a piece, looked at it..And thought they had the truth
— Poet Rumi
VELGUEM (Sankhalim): Everyone indeed has a piece of truth. Some fragments cut sharp and to the bone. Others are blunt. And searching for these fragments and picking the right one, is the test of these elections. And these fragments of truth do not lie in figuring out who will win and who will not (though an answer to the second one is a tad easier). The truth comes wrapped in voices from the country, from the stories of pain and hurt, of very common people, who are – you know what – simply trying to get a life, or in the mining stretches of Velguem in Sankhalim, tying to get back a fraction of the lives they led before the boom went bust and the new boom, is not even a speck of dust, on the long winding mining road.
If truth is what you are looking for in these elections, pick up these fragments. They may not tell you who is winning and who is not, but at the very least, you will hear voters – who are also people – with families and feelings, of loans to pay, fees to deposit and yes put food on the table.
And let’s not let elections get in the way – though you can’t help it if they do – of these stories. Yes, we didn’t hear them, or cared to hear them often enough. But, it seems, nor did the folks they voted for.
This is what happens you hit the election road, and end up getting to know Goa all over again, meeting forgotten people and bridging gaps, created not by distances, but the mindset of not putting people as the focal point of these elections.
The road to mining country, from the town of Sankhalim, to the hitherto ore swept Velguem village, is desolate and barren, the feeling that you get when life has been sucked out. In your mind’s eye there is a striking image of a bombed town with debris on the ground and vultures on top. This was the last leg of a very hot afternoon ride through mining country and it just that.
We were on the way to our next pit stop after a drive that cut through swathes of fields, palm trees and inland waterways from Chorao and then moving to Bicholim and Satarri. From Sankhalim to Velguem it takes about 15 minutes but it’s a transportation into a bubble you hardly knew existed, far from the rarefied environs of Panjim and the “election coverage” that emanates from party offices.
The first goal was to find and reach Uday bar and restaurant, a hut in the countryside, and arguably the pride of Velguem because that’s where a large number of people whose lives were touched by mining had gathered. It was full of people, who had time on their hands, as they simply stood around, while some played carom under the light of a pale yellow bulb. But the time when they prospered from mining, was clearly over. And as conversation started, and progressed, what poured out of that bar was not alcohol but tears.
Those who own tipper trucks have sold them. Many of those who had children in schools have pulled them out.
There is just one main meal, which is affordable for many families and the mining loan waiver has an untold story – that many didn’t have the money to pay their one time settlement , even though a large part of their loans were waived off. This is where the wood has been missed for the trees. A loan waiver which is dependent on a part settlement meant that lakhs had to be paid in one shot to clear the amount remaining after the waived off amount; is worthwhile only when you have money getting into your account from the very next month. But that didn’t happen. The promises kept on showering though as these stories will tell you and they all begin like all stories do, with ‘Once upon a time’.
Once upon a time Ugam Naik owned 16 tipper trucks. He was wealthy, had plush cars to drive into town, a jet set life and a future from the mining pits. This future is in the pits now. 16 trucks have been reduced to just one (all sold) which lies covered and unused for two years. The solemn promise of mining restarting, accompanied by Chief Ministerial visits to a big mine, the ceremonial breaking of coconuts and the blowing of conch shells in one of the mining companies has resulted only in broken hearts. Says Naik, “I got my last remaining truck ready for business, spending close to Rs 80,000. I even got a GPS device fitted. After lying idle for one season, (2015-16) I like a fool got swayed by promise that it would start this year (2016-17) and recharged by GPRS tracking devised for about Rs 8000. And yet there’s no work, with others getting mining trips before us.”
It gets even more bizarre, as Sushant Khandolkar of Pale says, “Third party insurance has shot up from Rs 3000 to Rs 26,600, a normal insurance premium is Rs 30,000 plus. With no business, we haven’t paid the insurance amount but with no insurance the RTO doesn’t give us the vehicle fitness certificate and for each day that we don’t pay after the vehicle is registered, we are fined Rs 50. So you either pay a hefty insurance for the vehicle which has not moved for years so pay the RTO Rs 50 daily for not showing them the insurance paid receipt.”
But of course there’s alcohol which is why Uday bar still runs. It is still a solace point for those whose livelihoods hang by a thread. Ugam Naik, bursts out, almost sobbing, “Look around you. Many of them are labourers in construction sites and elsewhere. They drove trucks and still others were highly educated.”
When they were first paid their daily wages as labourers, the extent of their humiliation dawned on them. And the direction they took was towards bars like Uday bar. At 2 in the afternoon, many had a drink too many and in their drunken stupour, they told more horror stories. There is nothing they have. No money in the bank or at hand, no trucks or tippers to drive and the weight of loans for some who haven’t yet cleared them.
“How much of gold will be sold when we have sold all. And we are told world class bridges are being made. For whom? For us?” asks Ugam Naik.
It may be tempting for those who see groups of unhappy people, as a fixed vote bank, but the failure is collective.
Giving their lives back seems beyond the capacity of those who literally took them away.
This is Valguems’s fragment of truth. And this is no figment of anyone’s imagination. Certainly not ours.
