Yet another storm in T cup?

Sicilla is in news again, apparently for the wrong reason. Activists of both YSR Congress Party (YSRCP) and Telangana Rashtra Samiti (TRS) are literally waging a pitched battle in the weavers’ hamlet while this author is keying in this story. 
The reason for this street fight is, to say, more or less, silly. All hell broke loose when YSRCP’s honorary president YS Vijayamma decided to take out a dharna in this Karimnagar village to champion the cause of hundreds of miserable weavers whose future is bleak in this hunger-ridden village.
The party with a pink flag which is supposed to fight for the formation of separate Telangana lost its cool as this Rayalaseema leader, whose son is languishing behind the bars of Chanchalguda prison for reasons best known to him, decided to make her parties presence felt in the hotbed of Telangana.  Since morning, the police have been trying to ease the tension, in their own way, by thrashing the trouble-mongers black and blue.
The scene, for people with a little bit of common sense, is sure disgusting. Sorry if I sounded harsh. I have all reasons to support the Telangana cause, but then, when someone is really trying to take advantage of the sentiments of over four crores of people, I can just feel pity for the millions of exploited souls in Telangana.
These political hooliganism and tomfoolery reminds me of the days when people were committing suicide en masse. It was in June 2008 I went to Sircilla to report the dance of death in this sleepy weavers settlement for Covert magazine.
It is a place where hunger and poverty weave clothes of death. More than 320 suicides in about four years when I visited the village. I well remember when other parts of Telangana were in a festival mood, 17 suicides in just 12 days and counting. It is Sircilla, a weavers' hamlet in Karimnagar district of Andhra Pradesh where poverty-stricken weavers end their lives as easily as tossing a coin.
The sound of power-looms, gloomy faces, scrawny figures and wailing families welcome one to this weavers' village. People never looked at strangers as they spotted several of them those days with the village turning to be the synonym of suicides.
Perennial misery surrounds this village where 1,25,000 weavers work 12 hours a day for a meager wage of Rs 70 to Rs 80 in about 40,000 power looms scattered around. One has to work standing for 12 hours non-stop in dingy looms just to make both ends' meet. Growing debts and consumption of adulterated toddy and country liquor mar their health both mentally and physically, leaving them with no choice except ending their lives on a piece of rope.
"We get Rs 10 per a metre of cloths. If there is power failure, we will not able to weave enough length to earn at least Rs 70 a day. We suffer from lung and heart diseases due to 12 hours of work, all the while standing. Most of us are addicted to cheap liquor that is available aplenty. We are unable to take care of our families and our debts keep growing. See, this is festival season and I have no money to buy new clothes and other things. What else one can do other than getting rid of this wretched life? At least our families will get some ex-gratia from the government," said Jagan, a young weaver.
Most of the men work in power looms whereas their women roll beedies for a livelihood. Even the women get hardly Rs 30-40 a day. Most of their children have stopped going to schools to assist their mothers in beedi rolling.
"We get Rs 60 for 1,000 beedies. At least three to four of our family members should work together the whole day to roll 1000 beedies. I don't think I can send my daughter Priya for higher studies. Even now she assists me in rolling beedies," said Mavidala Anuradha, whose husband Ravichander is a weaver.
"My daughter Ramya stopped going to school and now she helps me rolling beedies. She knows stitching but what is the use when I can't afford to buy a sewing machine for her?" asked Kodam Suvarna, another beedi worker.
"We don't have any organisation. We are not looking for any temporary financial aid. If the government can provide our children jobs, that's sufficient. At least they will look after themselves. Ever since Y S Rajasekhar Reddy came to power some years ago, our bad days started. Several hundreds of them killed themselves as they were unable to make a living and pay back their debts," said Anuradha, low-spirited and gloomy.
"Politicians come very often, but they come for votes. They make a lot of promises but forget them once they get power. We want to vote for someone who can solve our problems completely," said Suvarna.
"Thousands of weavers are suffering from various ailments due to their 12-hour long work by standing. They take to cheap liquor to forget their pains and get addicted to them, further deteriorating their health. They borrow money from money-lenders and unable to repay. Finally they take the extreme step, thinking of the ex-gratia their families may get after their deaths," said Ravinder a health assistant who completed a survey on health conditions of the villagers.
"Giving ex-gratia is kind of encouragement for these hapless lots to commit suicide. Most of them ended lives keeping the government ex-gratia in mind. Instead of giving financial assistance, the government should form a corporation where the weavers should be employed for a monthly salary. The government should also purchase the products so that there will be work always," said Sandeep Kumar, a social activist.
Heartrending scenes of wailing families and working children are witnessed in the village which is engulfed by a pall of gloom. Still sounds of looms reverberate the village round the clock with having two shifts for weavers, each 12 hours a day.
Every political party is now thronging the village of death with a lot of promises. The Congress did it, the BJP did it, the Communists and the TDP followed suit and so did Chiranjeevi who had launched his own party then.
But regardless of all the hues and cries, the dance of death due to poverty and illness and suicides by hapless weavers continued unabated in the star-crossed village of perennially backward Telangana region.