Sumitra Behera is one of the teeming millions languishing in the countryside. An unknown Indian, somehow surviving against all odds, she recently figured in the news when she decided to sell her one-month-old baby for a mere ten rupees. It did not shock the nation. No one was outraged, none of the newspapers decided to comment editorially on what was clearly a symbol of national disgrace. Not even one distinguished Member of Parliament, including those who swear in the name of one-third reservation for women, stood up to draw the nation´s attention to the shame reflected in Sumitra's desperation.
Instead, at that very moment the media was gloating over an egregious ´feel good´ factor, a pointer to the historic peak of USD 100 billion in foreign exchange reserves. There was jubilation all around, with corporate chieftains leading the cheer. Meanwhile, news reports said that in the month of December 2003, three other families grappling with hunger in Angul, Puri and Keonjhar in Orissa had reportedly sold their children. The sale of children and body organs is not only restricted to western Orissa or for that matter to neighbouring Jharkand and Bihar. West Bengal is actually the largest 'supplier' of girls, Andhra Pradesh comes next. The rest of the country does no better. You just have to peel off the media façade.
Take Madhya Pradesh. Jai Lal, a landless agricultural worker of Bandali village in Sheopur district in the heartland of India, returned to share the good news with his wife – that he had finally managed to get a petty job with a shopkeeper – she had succumbed to hunger. A week later, graves were dug for his two children, both unable to continue with the prolonged fight against hunger. Call it by any name, acute hunger and malnutrition forces unlucky parents to either sell off their children or to silently dig graves for them. Those who survive, undergo the ordeal of being sex workers; they are also exploited as labourers, drug peddlers and for their organs. Despite all talk and programmes, hunger has withstood the best and worst of times, only to emerge as robustly sustainable.
November 2003. 7.5 million people applied for a mere 38,000 vacancies in the Indian Railways. Thousands of those who applied for the post of ´gang man´, one of the 'lowly' jobs in the railways, were post-graduates; many even had management degrees. That the number of applicants had in fact exceeded the total population of Switzerland, was twice the population of Ireland, and was certainly a third more than the populations of Norway, Finland and New Zealand, should not come across as mere trivia. What followed was even more worrying – 56 dead in the riots that followed, and the 38,000 who eventually got the job left more than 7.45 million of those who were applicants still waiting.