Can a project’s success be judged on the basis of its never being completed?
Yes, if it’s a living archive of the world’s most complex countryside. Rural India is the most diverse part of the planet. Its 833 million people include distinct communities speaking close to 800 languages. This diversity is also seen in the occupations and livelihoods, arts and crafts, culture, literature, legend, transportation, and innumerable other fields that PARI covers.
With the advertising and celebrity-driven ‘mainstream’ media barely covering the countryside – PARI, 25 to 50 years hence, will be the only database, the only archive that Indians can turn to in order to learn or understand anything about how people lived and worked in the rural India of our times. At the same time, it’s a contemporary, living journal covering the everyday stories of everyday people.
The People’s Linguistic Survey of India tells us the country as a whole speaks some 800 languages and uses 86 different scripts. But in terms of provision for schooling up to Class 7, just 4 per cent of those 800 are covered.
The People’s Archive of Rural India presently publishes in 15 languages which are spoken by 1.2 billion Indians and identified by them as their first language.
The Eighth Schedule of the Constitution of India lists 22 languages whose development the country’s government is obliged to promote. Yet, there are states whose official languages fall outside those 22, like Khasi and Garo of Meghalaya. There are eight Indian languages spoken by 50 million people or more. Three of these are spoken by 80 million or more. One, by close to 500 million. At the other end of the spectrum are unique tribal languages spoken by as few as 4,000 people, some by even less. The eastern state of Odisha alone is home to around 44 tribal languages. The Linguistic Survey reckons that close to 220 languages have died in the past 50 years. Saimar in Tripura is down to its last five speakers.
As the Indian countryside rushes through an extremely painful transformation, many of its unique features disappear, leaving us poorer. There are, for instance, probably more schools and styles of weaving in India than in any other single nation. Many of these traditional weaving communities face real collapse, which will rob the world of some of its greatest gifts. Some unique occupations – professional storytellers, epic poem singers – are also in danger of extinction.
Then there are professions known only to a few nations. Like toddy-tappers who climb 50 palm trees daily, each one thrice, in season. From the sap they make palm jaggery or a fermented liquor called toddy. In peak season, a toddy tapper climbs a height greater than New York’s Empire State Building – every single day. But so many occupations are in collapse. Potters, metal workers and millions of other highly skilled craftspeople are rapidly losing their livelihoods.
Much of what makes the Indian countryside unique could be gone in 20-30 years. Without any systematic record, visual or oral, to educate us – let alone motivate us – to save this incredible diversity. We are losing worlds and voices within rural India of which future generations will know little or nothing. Even as the present one steadily sheds its own links with those worlds.
There is surely much in rural India that should die. Much that is tyrannical, oppressive, regressive and brutal – and which must go. Untouchability, feudalism, bonded labour, extreme caste and gender oppression and exploitation, land grab and more. The tragedy though is that the nature of the transformation underway more often tends to bolster the regressive and the barbaric, while undermining the best and the diverse. Covering that too, is part of PARI’s mandate and will be documented here.

