Harinath Rao Nagulavancha

large_01-DSC_0233-HRN.jpg

medium_01-DSC_0233-HRN.jpg

small_01-DSC_0233-HRN.jpg

thumbnail_01-DSC_0233-HRN.jpg

01-DSC_0233-HRN.jpg

“We cannot breathe,” say the workers.The masks they wear at this procurement centre in Telangana’s Nalgonda district, soak in sweat. Rising dust from the paddy heaps causes their skin to itch and makes them sneeze and cough. How many masks can they change? How many times can they wash and wipe their hands and faces? How many times can they cover their mouths – when they must fill, drag, weigh, stich, carry and load into trucks 3,200 gunny bags – each weighing 40 kilograms – in 10 hours?That’s 48 workers handling 128 tons of paddy – or 213 kilograms a minute – in temperatures hovering around 43-44 degrees Celsius. Their work starts at 3 a.m. and stops by 1 p.m. – that’s at least four hours, from 9 a.m., in very hot and dry weather.However sensible it is to practice wearing masks and physical distancing, it’s next to impossible to do that when you’re working at a paddy procurement centre like the one in these photographs from Kangal village in Kangal mandal. And state agriculture minister Niranjan Reddy told the local media in April that there are 7,000 such centres across Telangana. And what do they earn for this? There were four groups of 12 workers each and every worker made around Rs. 900 for the day. The catch: you get this work only every alternate day. Each worker here will get 23 days – or Rs. 20,750 across the 45 day-procurement period.This year, paddy procurement in the rabi season started in the first week of April, fully overlapping with the Covid-19 lockdown period, from March 23 to May 31.

02-DSC_0277-HRN.jpg

03-DSC_0227-HRN.jpg

04-DSC_0254-HRN.jpg

05-DSC_0223-HRN.jpg

06-DSC_0244-HRN.jpg

07-DSC_0262-HRN.jpg

08-DSC_0268-HRN.jpg

09-DSC_0216-HRN.jpg

10-DSC_0240-HRN.jpg

11-DSC_0271-HRN.jpg

12-DSC_0247-HRN.jpg

Rising dust, itchy skin, sweat-soaked masks

ਉੱਡਦੀ ਧੂੜ, ਹੁੰਦੀ ਖ਼ੁਰਕ ਤੇ ਮੁੜ੍ਹਕੇ ਨਾਲ਼ ਭਿੱਜੇ ਮਾਸਕ

বেড়ে চলা ধুলো, চুলকানি ভরা ত্বক আর ঘামে ভেজা মাস্ক

উৰি অহা ধূলি, চালৰ খজুৱতি, ঘামত তিতি থকা মুখৰ মাস্ক

ઉઠતી ધૂળ, ચામડીએ ખંજવાળ, ને પરસેવે રેબઝેબ માસ્ક

धुरळा, खाज आणि घामाने भिजलेले मास्क

அதிகரிக்கும் தூசு, வேகும் தோல், வியர்வையில் நனைந்த  முக கவசம்

ଉପରକୁ ଉଠୁଥିବା ଧୂଳି, କୁଣ୍ଡାଇ ହେଉଥିବା ଚର୍ମ, ଝାଳରେ ଓଦା ମାସ୍କ

उड़ती धूल, त्वचा में खुजली, पसीने से भीगा मास्क

اڑتا غبار، جلد میں کھجلی، پیسنے سے بھیگا ماسک

Nalgonda

At present, we can only accept donations in Indian rupees by Indian citizens. All donations made to the CounterMedia Trust are eligible for exemption under Section 80G of the Income Tax Act, 1961. Here is a copy of our exemption certificate.


India is bigger than New Delhi. And people need to know more about the rest of this vast nation.


Younger, media-saturated generations are growing up knowing little about their country, but a lot about the elites of a few metros and towns. For a narrowly-owned, commercially-driven media, the dumbing down of a nation is part of standard operating procedure. The last available data of the Centre for Media Studies (CMS, Delhi) show us that reports from New Delhi account for 66 per cent of news on the front pages of major dailies. The CMS data also found that just about 0.24 per cent of front page news came out of rural India. The TV channels are not much better.PARI exists to change that.We are a non-profit organisation. We publish under creative commons, and do not charge readers a subscription fee or put-up advertisements. Nothing is behind a paywall and we are completely free-to-access by anyone. We guard our independence and receive no direct grants from governments and corporations, nor any funding that could dictate our content. So, we are dependent on volunteer labour, donations from individuals, foundations and institutions that see value in independent and free media.PARI is changing the way Indian journalism reports and documents the rural.India is more than the elite of a few metros and towns. We report on rural lives and livelihoods, languages, communities, migrants and more. We need your help to pull off this most ambitious of Indian journalistic endeavours. The scale of this effort costs money. Donate generously - and spread the word about PARI.&nbsp;

Donate FAQs


Let’s get you acquainted

Welcome to PARI

All our content is, and will forever be free to consume. If you enjoy our work, you can support us by becoming a volunteer or by donating to help fund our work.

Want to republish this article? Please write to <a href="mailto:zahra@ruralindiaonline.org" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">zahra@ruralindiaonline.org</a> with a cc to <a href="mailto:namita@ruralindiaonline.org" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">namita@ruralindiaonline.org</a>

Rising dust, itchy skin, sweat-soaked masks

How do you adhere to distancing norms if you are labourers at a procurement centre – like these men in Telangana’s Nalgonda district – who need close teamwork to handle 213 kilograms of paddy a minute?

Related stories

A rain-scented walk in Sivagangai

Living on ravaged land

Biswas and the bamboos on his bike

Recycling energy, Godda style

Bhadels of Goa

Pookadai: still throbbing with morning life

Koli Kadlas

Malnourishment high among children of migrants: study

Wheels of the rural Indian West

Living Under a Red Cloud in Bellary

Vedla – earrings of the Maher community

Dreaming of water, drowning in debt

Kali: the dancer and his dreams

Farmer's diet worse than a convict's

In Yavatmal, life goes on

Suicides are about the living, not the dead

Death of a carpenter

Hoisa Shigmo!

Women farmers: weaving a life in Anantapur

Defiant in Dhinkia

Spice and all that's nice

Kerala's Green Army

The ‘jugaad’ not-a-mobile

Health as someone else's wealth

Calibrating in a Kudumbashree assembly unit