No Man's Land- An excerpt

Three states - Odisha, Andhra Pradesh and Chhatisgarh converge at Motu, a small village pre-dominantly inhabited by Koya tribals in Odisha. Saberi and Sileru rivers separate the three state’s jurisdiction. On their banks lie areas that most people have only read about in newspapers and magazines- Malkangiri, Dantewada and Khammam districts. This is in many ways no man’s land, where the People’s War Group constantly challenges the supremacy of the State.

In the aftermath of the attack on the political leadership of Chhatisgarh, this may seem like an opportune, even opportunistic, moment to publish a story that explores the PWG waging a war against the State as seen from a tribal person’s perspective. However, the story ‘No Man’s Land’ was written in the year 2009, two years after I left Koraput and Malkangiri, considered the hot-bed of left-wing extremism. I am sure that what I have written is not politically correct- but this is an issue on which I do not subscribe to double-speak. Some parts may be disturbing and even unacceptable. My explanation is that it has come from my experience of serving in the affected areas for close to six years. I have written what I observed. It may not be the true picture, but it is as I saw it.



An excerpt from ‘No Man’s Land’:

“Everyday when Adi took his afternoon nap, Ganga sat near him like a guardian angel. On these lazy afternoons, Reva would pick up her brush and paint. Sometimes, she would sit in her rocking chair near Ganga and draw him into conversation – about his people, his village, his family consisting of a widowed mother and two brothers and even the “Anna”, the misnomer for the dreaded PWG. Ganga had been reticent to discuss this last topic, fearfully glancing over his shoulder to confirm that Anna was not watching him. Gradually he opened up and his narratives re-created a Mancholi that she could barely recognise. He spoke of darkness, thick forests where neither daylight, nor the state could penetrate. You watched your own back, as it could mean the difference between life and death. This was the arena of ‘Anna’. The PWG were ruthless, ruling the jungles with guns and brooking no opposition. They took what they wanted… his uncle’s daughter was taken away, never to be seen again. Reva’s query- why they did not go to the police, elicited no response. His silence was more eloquent than any words would have been. Reva wondered what it was like, to live each day in fear… fear of the PWG and fear of the Police. In her mind’s eye, she saw Ganga and his people, caught in a deadly cross fire, not of their making constantly living under the shadow of death in no-man’s land….”