on my trip to the jungles of Chhattisgarh along with a local police officer... (Pix by Ranjan Basu, photo editor, The Sunday Indian)
“Heaven is a forest of miles and miles of mohua trees, and hell is a forest of miles and miles of mohua trees…”
The dry season made it impossible to tread silently in the jungle. As we walked around restively, we trampled upon dead leaves. They let off a wave of loud crunching noises. Surrounded by five armed policemen, including three special police officers (SPOs-former Maoists), we were made to wait in the bushes in the forest touching Barga village in north Bastar, a Maoist-infested belt in Chhattisgarh, a region where death is a silent, invisible stalker.
“Awaz kyun kar rahan hain, (Why are you making that noise),” hissed the Dhanera police station havildar from a perch behind a huge rock, his AK-46 in an assault mode. The object of his indignation was a gun-totting SPO, who dared to walk away from his assigned position. The only sound piercing that deathly silence was the gentle ruffle of the leaves of the tall sal trees.
Led by Ajit Ogre, in-charge of Dhanera police station, the other members of the team quietly disappeared into the forest to try and nab some Maoist members of Barga Dalam (Dalam is a village unit of the Maoists) who were reportedly camping on the outskirts of the village. Half an hour later, Ogre led the team back. Getting whiff of the impending raid, the Maoists had fled.
Early in the morning, the 14-member police team had rushed in seven motorcycles to trap the Maoists in Barga village, nearly 25 kilometers from the police station. The journey on the motorcycles and on the muddy, uneven tracks between the thorny bushes was fast and furious. In that convoy, it was everyone’s responsibility to ensure that they were checking front and back for that deceptive enemy. One had to speed over the narrow streams, since any slowing down could make the police personnel a sitting target for the Maoists, who could be anywhere, anytime. The team working in these Maoist-dominated belts has to rely on speed and stealth. So do their enemy.
“From here begins their territory,” SI Sahu, a havildar announced after crossing the Mokabera river. A few weeks back, the Maoists had successfully ambushed a police team while it was trying to cross the river. “They also have the support of the villagers,” an SPO revealed. North Bastar is being controlled by Sujata, a CPI (Maoist) leader from adjacent Andhra Pradesh. Sujata remains faceless for the police even today.
Despite crores being pumped into the state in the name of an anti-insurgency drive, the Maoists continue to grow rapidly.
Some areas in south Bastar have been declared “liberated zones” by the ultra-Reds. The roads and even the highways, which have been declared “dangerous” (owing to regular IED blasts) in Bastar region include the 22-km stretch from Bijapur to Gangalur, the 66-km stretch from Narayanpur to Orcha, National Highway-22 (Sukma to Konta, 80 kms) and NH-43 (Bijapur to Bhupalpatnam).
Development agencies do not dare to venture into these areas. Weak policing, inaccessible, hostile terrains and the tough topography of the region have made it difficult for the security forces to track down the enemy, trained in guerilla warfare. It’s a “malaria endemic zone” and there are reports that a number of personnel from the elite Naga battalion have succumbed to lethal mosquito bites in the jungles of Bastar.
As we left the Barga village after that futile raid, the motorcycle posse suddenly spotted a huge wooden martyr’s column erected in an open field at Kongur village in the memory of a slain comrade, Raju. When the policemen failed to kick down the column, they poured petrol on it and set it on fire. As the flames rose high, the armed riders sped off, leaving behind a blazing track.
Maoists have traditionally been against the existing education system. They have their own mobile schools, telling the tribal children about the so-called “class enemies” and “how to counter them”. The reds’ hatred for the educational system was evident when one spotted rows of primary and higher secondary schools completely razed to the ground in the remote village of Kongur in north Bastar.
The children now pursue academics in shacks. The other reason for demolishing the structures was to prevent the security forces from camping there during any heightened activities against Maoists. For decades (even before creation of Chhattisgarh), this part of India had been reeling under Naxalite violence. The main reason for the rapid growth of Maoists in Chattisgarh (nestled between Andhra Pradesh and Orissa—two Naxalite-dominated states) has been grinding poverty, government’s neglect, lack of development and illiteracy. Neither the government nor any development agencies took steps to reach the inaccessible terrains where the tribals live.
Life here is cheap. Death is not merely due to police or Naxalite killings, in these remote areas, death also comes in the forms blood dysentery and malaria and other water-borne disease.
With the help of an NGO, Disha, operating in the remote areas in Kanker, we then reached a forest village, called Semar. The hand pumps set up by the state government in this poverty-stricken village haven’t worked for years. Those that are still working have been abandoned because of the high iron content in the water.
The dry season made it impossible to tread silently in the jungle. As we walked around restively, we trampled upon dead leaves. They let off a wave of loud crunching noises. Surrounded by five armed policemen, including three special police officers (SPOs-former Maoists), we were made to wait in the bushes in the forest touching Barga village in north Bastar, a Maoist-infested belt in Chhattisgarh, a region where death is a silent, invisible stalker.
“Awaz kyun kar rahan hain, (Why are you making that noise),” hissed the Dhanera police station havildar from a perch behind a huge rock, his AK-46 in an assault mode. The object of his indignation was a gun-totting SPO, who dared to walk away from his assigned position. The only sound piercing that deathly silence was the gentle ruffle of the leaves of the tall sal trees.
Led by Ajit Ogre, in-charge of Dhanera police station, the other members of the team quietly disappeared into the forest to try and nab some Maoist members of Barga Dalam (Dalam is a village unit of the Maoists) who were reportedly camping on the outskirts of the village. Half an hour later, Ogre led the team back. Getting whiff of the impending raid, the Maoists had fled.
Early in the morning, the 14-member police team had rushed in seven motorcycles to trap the Maoists in Barga village, nearly 25 kilometers from the police station. The journey on the motorcycles and on the muddy, uneven tracks between the thorny bushes was fast and furious. In that convoy, it was everyone’s responsibility to ensure that they were checking front and back for that deceptive enemy. One had to speed over the narrow streams, since any slowing down could make the police personnel a sitting target for the Maoists, who could be anywhere, anytime. The team working in these Maoist-dominated belts has to rely on speed and stealth. So do their enemy.
“From here begins their territory,” SI Sahu, a havildar announced after crossing the Mokabera river. A few weeks back, the Maoists had successfully ambushed a police team while it was trying to cross the river. “They also have the support of the villagers,” an SPO revealed. North Bastar is being controlled by Sujata, a CPI (Maoist) leader from adjacent Andhra Pradesh. Sujata remains faceless for the police even today.
Despite crores being pumped into the state in the name of an anti-insurgency drive, the Maoists continue to grow rapidly.
Some areas in south Bastar have been declared “liberated zones” by the ultra-Reds. The roads and even the highways, which have been declared “dangerous” (owing to regular IED blasts) in Bastar region include the 22-km stretch from Bijapur to Gangalur, the 66-km stretch from Narayanpur to Orcha, National Highway-22 (Sukma to Konta, 80 kms) and NH-43 (Bijapur to Bhupalpatnam).
Development agencies do not dare to venture into these areas. Weak policing, inaccessible, hostile terrains and the tough topography of the region have made it difficult for the security forces to track down the enemy, trained in guerilla warfare. It’s a “malaria endemic zone” and there are reports that a number of personnel from the elite Naga battalion have succumbed to lethal mosquito bites in the jungles of Bastar.
As we left the Barga village after that futile raid, the motorcycle posse suddenly spotted a huge wooden martyr’s column erected in an open field at Kongur village in the memory of a slain comrade, Raju. When the policemen failed to kick down the column, they poured petrol on it and set it on fire. As the flames rose high, the armed riders sped off, leaving behind a blazing track.
Maoists have traditionally been against the existing education system. They have their own mobile schools, telling the tribal children about the so-called “class enemies” and “how to counter them”. The reds’ hatred for the educational system was evident when one spotted rows of primary and higher secondary schools completely razed to the ground in the remote village of Kongur in north Bastar.
The children now pursue academics in shacks. The other reason for demolishing the structures was to prevent the security forces from camping there during any heightened activities against Maoists. For decades (even before creation of Chhattisgarh), this part of India had been reeling under Naxalite violence. The main reason for the rapid growth of Maoists in Chattisgarh (nestled between Andhra Pradesh and Orissa—two Naxalite-dominated states) has been grinding poverty, government’s neglect, lack of development and illiteracy. Neither the government nor any development agencies took steps to reach the inaccessible terrains where the tribals live.
Life here is cheap. Death is not merely due to police or Naxalite killings, in these remote areas, death also comes in the forms blood dysentery and malaria and other water-borne disease.
With the help of an NGO, Disha, operating in the remote areas in Kanker, we then reached a forest village, called Semar. The hand pumps set up by the state government in this poverty-stricken village haven’t worked for years. Those that are still working have been abandoned because of the high iron content in the water.
Amidst slush, grime, silt and floating nightsoil, the villagers dig deep down for potable water. This source of water connects to the grime lying around and is a breeding ground for mosquitoes. Unfazed, Netam, a 16-year-old boy, took some water from the hole to clean his utensils and as he quenched his thirst, I clung to my only bottle of mineral waterfor dear life. Without it, we couldn’t have continued the journey into darkness.
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