Saturday, September 6, 2008 |
Whenever I sit down to write this column, and sometimes even long before that, I start assessing the different topics that need discussion. But this week the terrible agony of Bihar has overshadowed everything else. Nothing else on the small screen draws as much attention and concern as the terrible fate of those who lived near the Kosi, which changed course so rapidly and over such a vast distance that it can well be christened ‘the unpredictable river’. There has been a deluge of
images of the flood-ravaged state on the small screen. Thus, over the
past 10 days, one has seen the fury of floods from the windows of a VIP
plane or the helicopter trying to rescue people or drop food, and also
from ground level — from the eyes of the people who have had to flee
their homes, leaving their worldly possessions.
Images of inundated villages and towns make one shudder at the mere thought of what the poor people can ever look forward to in life, except the food provided by rescue organisations. But the relief and rescue work has not been limited to the authorities and other organisations. More than one channel has shown the heartening sight of extremely ordinary people sharing their food with complete strangers, of villagers fetching milk and water for children and of sturdy young men carrying old men and women on their backs while wading through knee-deep water. It is such acts of compassion in the midst of a natural calamity which lift our spirits. It has been said often enough that Bihar has the potential, with its untapped mineral wealth, of being one of the most prosperous states of India. But then why has it remained one of the most backward states? Of course, the first blame must go to politicians. But someone made a comment to me recently that why were Biharis leaving in such vast numbers for other states to earn their living? From Haryana to West Bengal, they are found everywhere working hard to live a decent life. In Delhi every second three-wheeler driver is a Bihari. One becomes even more aware of their presence when they get together in vast numbers to perform their own unique Chath puja. I first became aware of Bihar as a young girl because of my uncle. He was a member of the Bihar Civil Service during British rule, but much more importantly, he was given the scholarly job of updating the Bihar Gazetteer. The gazetteers were a uniquely British institution by which the entire details of an area, its geography, its history, its contemporary problems and even its most famous personalities down the ages were faithfully and meticulously chronicled. Even now, research scholars find them a valuable source of information. No wonder my uncle was able to fill in for me everything that should be known about Bihar. It saddens me that Bihar seems to have changed very little since his time, and its vast potential still has to be tapped with imagination and will power. Yet some of India’s most famous administrators, and at least one contemporary Army General, are from Bihar, and are looked on with respect as prominent Indians in public life. Jai Prakash Narayan is frequently mentioned as a person from Bihar, who enriched Indian values in public life. As we mourn the terrible
havoc caused by the Bihar floods and the unending cruelty of the Kosi,
we can only hope that this calamity will lead to a resurgence of this
state, which has given so much to India but, perhaps, has not got as
much in return.
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