a rural hamlet, a lake and splendid countryside on a perfect day – somewhere near Chittoor on the highway towards Chennai, Tamil Nadu

we were driving east from Chittoor, on a sultry Sunday afternoon, towards Chennai. I had not expected any location would be so spectacularly splendid and so perfect. We came upon the location quite suddenly, driving past at more than 80 kmph. The traffic had piled up and slowed us down, and it was just there, in the post-noon and pre-evening sun, glittering with a perfect blue sky.

It was a small hamlet, almost rural and almost urban, possibly ‘rurban’ as the term goes nowadays. The lake must have been a sewage dump, but the sudden view made it look beautiful. We were driving past, and did not stop for a closer look. The obvious evidence was the absence of waterbirds or domestic animals within the waterbody. I could be wrong, though.

The sky made up for all the shortcomings. It had been dark in the morning at Chittoor, and later, in Chennai, it did rain. But at that moment, alongside the lake, the sky was perfect, the lake looked good, and the hamlet seemed washed out to brilliance. The photo, taken by cellphone, at 80 kmph, did forgive all the other problems that could be. 

girls fetching drinking water in arid and drought hit Solapur villages, Maharashtra

It wrenches at the heart. This is an image that one can see anywhere in India, in most rural regions, whether they are arid or drought-hit or otherwise. This was sometime in November 2015, when driving north from Akalkot in Solapur district towards Tuljapur in Osmanabad district, and just after crossing across the Mumbai-Hyderabad Highway.

This is a region that is frequently drought-prone, in spite of good water conservation works, fodder management and an understanding of the local habitat by the people. Several villages have tried good initiatives to conserve their water but they seem to crash when drought takes over.

We were driving by, and I must have seen these girls for only about 5-7 seconds or so. This is a photograph taken by a cellphone camera, while driving by at more than 60 kmph. I took this photograph on an impulse, and wondered about my own actions. What should I do now? For months, I did not post it on Facebook, feeling that it was not right.

One hears about girls not being able to go to school in war zones, terror-struck or fatwah-ridden countries, or amongst refugees. What about our girls in our own safe and secure country? By not taking up initiatives or supporting knowledge transfer to the drought zones, are we not hijacking the future of such splendid and strong girls? Since November 2015, I have got involved in small initiatives and I hope that it would slowly help. But everyone should, on their own, work with their own friends, small networks and lend help and support to others who are actively involved.

Akalkot and Tuljapur are eminent pilgrimage centres. Devotees who go to either temple, normally drive down to the other and pass along this route or in this region. Most devotees who drive by in private vehicles can afford to keep some money aside, get involved in knowledge transfer or in support activities. What is the purpose of asking blessings from deities during a strenuous pilgrimage if you would not take time to melt your heart and look outside your vehicle?