Medha Kale

Sharmila Joshi

Editor

Binaifer Bharucha

Photographs

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Radhabai and Chimanabai are
resting after lunch, and so is Kajal. It is cool even at noon in the camp at
Mhaswad in Satara. But Badam is restless and has not been eating well for two
days. 

It’s been nearly 20 days since the
four came to the camp. They walked all the way from their village Valai in Satara district, around 16 kilometres away. The severe scarcity of fodder was especially difficult
for them– it’s their main source of nutrition.

So Lakshmi Kalel, 40, and her
husband Parameshwar Anna Kalel, 60, walked along with Radhabai, Chimanabai, Kajal and Badam – their two buffaloes, a cow, and a bull – to the camp at Mhaswad. “It costs 800-1,000 rupees to transport
them in a pick-up, and we cannot afford that amount. So we decided to walk,”
says Lakshmi, bringing sugarcane stalks for her animals from a depot in the
camp.

Sitting by a tent made from plastic sheets, she says that after dropping her and the cattle at the camp,
Parameshwar returned home. “I had to sleep under the open skies here for three
nights. Then, with the help of my nephew and the new ‘neighbours’, I built this
tent and a shed for my four cattle.” In exchange for such help on occasion,
Lakshmi offers her neighbours lunch or tea.

Since their arrival at the
camp, her two black buffaloes, five-year-old Radha and three-year-old Chimna,
the three-year-old greyish-white cow Kajal, and her only bull, five-year-old
greyish-white Badam, seem a little happier to her. “The cattle are getting to
eat and looking relaxed,” she says.

“I have
been alone since the day I came here. It has been three weeks since my husband
left us here…” says Lakshmi (when I met her at the end of January). “I have two
sons, one is working in a dairy in Pune and other one has gone to Karad to graze
our sheep. His wife and a child [her grandson, 18-month-old Ajinkya]
are at home. Our house is in a remote hilly area and now due to drought, the
thefts have increased. That’s why my husband stayed back in the village and
sent us to the camp,” Lakshmi explains. 

On October 31, 2018, drought was declared
in 151 blocks of 26 districts in Maharashtra, of which 112 blocks are facing a
severe drought. All blocks comprising Maandesh are on the list – Man and Khatav talukas of Satara district are in the region
known as Maandesh, as are Jat, Atpadi and Kavathemahankal talukas in Sangli, and Sangole
and Malshiras in Solapur. Around 1,600
people from 70 villages across Maandesh, along with nearly 8,000 animals are
staying at the cattle camp in Mhaswad. (See <a href="https://ruralindiaonline.org/articles/families-separated-by-the-search-for-fodder">Families separated by the search for fodder</a>)

The camp was started on January 1, 2019,
by the Mann Deshi Foundation, which is based in Mhaswad and supports the Mann
Deshi Mahila Sahakari Bank by working on issues that go beyond financing. It’s
the earliest cattle camp of this scale for villages facing the present (and
escalating) drought. The camp organisers provide fodder and water (big animals get 15 kilos of green fodder, 1 kilo of
animal feed and 50 litres of water per day). The cattle sheds are built by the
animal-owners using wooden poles and a green net provided by the Foundation. “Sick animals are shifted outside the camp to avoid
infections, and two veterinary doctors provide medical aid,” says Ravindra
Virkar, one of the main co-ordinators of the camp. The organisers also
provide
basic amenities to the people. For example, water barrels are placed in each
‘ward’ (a tanker brings water every second or third day), and there
is a tank for drinking water.

Lakshmi’s
tent is just big enough for her to sleep in. On a string tied to a horizontal
pole, are her two sarees, and on the same string hangs a plastic bag that
contains tea leaves and sugar, a match box and few provisions such as lentils.
She has made a stove with three stones
and stored some firewood and fodder just next to this chulha. It is just enough to
make tea or heat food. “I get food from home…” says Lakshmi. But when we met
her, she had been waiting for two days for food from home, and managing by
sharing her nephew’s tiffin. “If they don’t send it today, I will have to make
a trip home and come back. A few days ago, my daughter-in-law packed just a few
bhakris,
no vegetables, no dal. Like my cattle, I also have to eat fodder, it seems. My
name is Lakshmi [the goddess of wealth] but look at my fate…” 

Valai, Lakshmi’s
village in Man taluka
of Satara district, has 382
households and a population of nearly 1,700 (Census 2011). “Half of the
villagers migrate for sugarcane cutting at sugar factories in Kolhapur and
Sangli districts. People leave after Diwali [October/November] and return
around Padwa [the first day of the Hindu Lunar calendar around March/April].
But this year nobody will come back till Jyeshtha [the fourth month on the lunar
calendar, around May/June],” says 70-year-old Yashwant Dhondiba Shinde of Panavan village in Man taluka, a veteran of many farmers’ agitations, who has brought his
four cows to the camp.

As we talk,
Lakshmi says that the drinking water is over; she fetches it from the water
tank at the camp, and stores it in a white plastic can. Meanwhile, Shinde asks
a friend to spare a four-litre can of water for her. In return she makes him
black tea, served in a steel saucer. This camaraderie helps them all in these
times of crisis. 

Lakshmi
belongs to the Lonari caste
(listed as an OBCs in Maharashtra). Traditionally, this was a community of
salt-makers (salt is locally called lavan) and charcoal. The salt was extracted
from the saline soil in parts of Maandesh. In and around Valai, families from
this caste also rear cattle but don&#39;t sell milk. “The milk is for the calf and our
household consumption. We do not make money out of milk. So many people sell pregnant cows or buffaloes [which fetch more money] and buy new ones,” explains
Lakshmi. Her family, she says, does not do that, and, she adds, Kajal is expected to give birth in the next 10 days.

I ask her
about the names of her cattle. “We name only native Khillar cows or bulls or
buffaloes. Jersey cows are never named,” she replies. “My son has named all his
goats and they respond to him when he calls out their names.”

Lakshmi’s
family owns 10 acres of dryland in Valai, on which they mainly cultivate jowar,
bajra, maize and onions. They have a dug well, but it dried up in the summer of 2018. The persistent drought for two years means they had no jowar harvest, a low bajra yield, and poor quality onions in 2018. “We did not have more
than 2-3 acres of land. It was my mother-in-law who bought this land by selling
off sheep… She bought 7 acres like that, ” Lakshmi says, while filling a 15-litre
pot from the water tank 500 metres from her tent. She makes 3-4 trips in a day.
“Cattle get water at our doorstep, but how will we get the same service?” she laughs. (See <a href="https://ruralindiaonline.org/articles/cattle-and-birds-both-need-a-lot-of-water">‘Cattle and birds, both need a lot of water’</a>)

At the end
of January, after three weeks, Lakshmi’s husband, Paramaeshwar arrives at the
camp around 2:30 p.m.  with some fresh methi,
brinjal, chillis and other vegetables, tea powder, sugar, puffed wheat chivda,
and the popular fried onion bhajiya sold at the weekly market at Mhaswad.
Some of the snacks are for their grandson. Lakshmi keeps a few for herself, and
re-packs the rest of the items in the bag her husband will take home to Valai. 

She also carefully packs the heads of carrots in a newspaper,
keeps half of the rest of the chopped carrots for herself, and half for
Parameshwar to take home. She wants her daughter-in-law to plant the heads of
carrots near their house. “These grow even on waste water from the kitchen. My
Radha and Chimna will get some green shoots to eat,” she says. “And if it does
rain this time, even our crops will grow and we too will get something to eat.”Until then, Lakshmi says. &quot;I have got used to the camp, I feel at-home with all the cattle around. It is almost as if I am surrounded by small children and time just goes by...&quot;

Chimnabai gets to eat finally, with 8,000 others

ஒருவழியாக 8,000 சகாக்களுடன் உணவைப் பெறும் சிம்னாபாய்

শেষমেশ খাদ্য জুটল চিমনাবাঈয়ের, আরও আট হাজারের সঙ্গে

आख़िरकार 8,000 मवेशियों के साथ-साथ चिमनाबाई को भी चारा मिल गया

چِمنا بائی کو آخرکار ۸۰۰۰ دیگر کے ساتھ، چارہ مل گیا

ଶେଷରେ ଖାଇବାକୁ ପାଇଲେ ଚିମନାବାଇ

अखेर चिमणाबाई जेवली, तेही आठ हजाराच्या पंक्तीत

Mhaswad

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हमारी दुनिया की झलक

पारी पर आपका स्वागत है

पाठकों के लिए हमारा सभी कॉन्टेंट मुफ़्त उपलब्ध है. अगर आपको हमारा काम पसंद है, तो आप हमारे लिए वालंटियर कर सकते हैं या हमारी आर्थिक मदद कर सकते हैं, ताकि हम अपना काम जारी रख सकें.

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Chimnabai gets to eat finally, with 8,000 others

Lakshmi Kalel has moved to a cattle camp in Satara district with her two buffaloes, a cow and a bull, leaving her family in the village, but forging new bonds with others trying to cope with the harsh drought

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