Shispal called me at 8 in the night from his home in Kannauj, UP, “Boss, I finally reached home.” He had the excitement of a lone sailor reaching shore after an arduous navigation through a stormy ocean in turbulent weather. He was happy that it was a non-stop train journey to Lucknow from Thrissur, Kerala. He and his fellow travellers were treated more as guests rather than outsiders. He was luckier than others who reached from other parts of the country.
Only two days ago he was among thousands, who had to suffer and patiently hang around, hungry and thirsty to complete the formalities in Viyyur Police Station to complete the medical check-up, collection of medical reports and travel pass next day. The third day they were transported to the railway station and seen off by government officials with food packets and water, with fond memories of a state they happily praised about, back in their villages.
“As soon as the lockdown is over, I shall return and complete transplanting the rest of the coconut saplings in the dug up pits, boss,” was his last telephonic message before boarding the train. He was happy that I, stranded in Bangalore under lockdown for past 45 days, had paid up his pending wages, plus some advance and compensated the three times regular charges for train ticket as a gift transferred to his bank account.But thousands of workers on the highways, with their bundled-up possessions and their spouses and children, were not as lucky as Shispal.
Desperate to reach home they started walking, cycling and even hiding in concrete mixing tanks of lorries in the sweltering heat, dehydrated and hungry, only to be caught by the police. They were worried about what would happen to them and whether they will ever make it to their destination.Luckily, they were oblivious of the fact that many died on the way out of exhaustion, falling sick, colliding with trucks and so on.Sixteen of them got run over by a goods train in Maharashtra. In UP, the police even threatened those wayside houses which offered the walking convoy of families, bathing, toilet facilities, overnight shelter, food and water.
Many were chased, lathi-charged, fired at, arrested and put in lockups. They swarmed in because of rumours that there is going to be some special trains to their states. They were denied work, wages and free movement on a false accusation of harbouring the virus, whereas, the virus landed in the airports and found its way to the middle class.
They didn’t understand this distancing strategy as for years they were sleeping together with Tuberculosis bacteria being coughed throughout the night. In their crowded sheds, they sleep without the luxury of a full-size pillow space. Now, the long chains of railway coaches in railway yards of megacities are moving with the migrant workers to UP, Bihar, Jharkhand, Odisha, Bengal and Assam. Many home governments don’t know how many and where to their own people have migrated. They are yet to plan, to assess their newly acquired skill sets and locally employ them gainfully to boost the respective state economy.
(The author is an independent public health consultant who served in the UNICEF, SHRC Chhattisgarh and National Health Mission)