OF GOLDEN PROMISES AND SHATTERED DREAMS...

People are officially declared dead when there is no twitching of limbs. When heat in the body is replaced by deathly cold. When breathing has devolved to nothingness. Even in such situations, near and dear ones lose their sagacity and develop denial as a defence mechanism, refusing to accept the death of their beloved. What happens then, if a town is declared dead? How then are poor miners, who gave their blood and breath, literally (as this is what silicosis does) to the mines, expected to accept that their town, once rich with its gold fields, is a dead town?

What struck me odd when I set foot into Kolar was its stillness. The silence that blanketed the village was unnerving. It was undoubtedly a change from the frantic frenzy that characterized Chennai. It was birds, monkeys, fresh air, mountains and a blue sky that greeted me in Kolar. Yet, there was something strange about the town. The quietude was almost ghostly. There were hardly any signs of employment.

The Kolar Gold Fields, popularly known as KGF, is often referred to as a ghost town. Right from 2001 when Bharat Gold Mines Ltd (BGML) closed down operations and miners were forced to retire, KGF has worn a deserted look. Travelling through different parts of KGF- Coramandel, Oorgaum, Champion Reef or Marikuppam which marks the end of KGF, it is not uncommon to see people sitting outside small houses or huts, having vacant expressions on their faces , moving amidst hens and cattle and essentially, having a lot of time at their disposal . This is the situation that people of KGF face- a result of long periods of unemployment. The few people who are moving about are those that are desperate to not miss their train to Hosur, Mysore or Bangalore as it could mean a loss of money. Their only way of making a livelihood is to travel to the richer parts of Karnataka and work as coolies or painters – in short, to pursue any work that gives them the bare minimum required, in order to make their ends meet and ensure them two square meals a day.

This is where I ran into Albert, in Marikuppam. I was about to apologise when I realised that there was something odd about him- two eyes, two ears, a nose, a mouth, two hands - yes—all there and intact. Then what was it that was odd about him? Was it his sunken eyes, a tiredness on his face that cannot quite be taken care of by a mere few hours of rest, lines of worry on his forehead? But no. Lines of worry were characteristic of people in KGF. It was Albert’s feet, rather, the lack of them that resulted in a conversation with him. Like every other person in Kolar, Albert too had a story to tell- Of once mining for gold and now, looking for any job that he could do despite being a handicap so that he would be assured a survival.

A miner for 18 years, Albert’s life was not easy. Three young children and a wife, an unmarried sister, a perennially worried mother and a father suffering from silicosis is not easy to deal with, especially if there is only earning member in the family. This is however the reality that Albert,a miner working in the Kolar Gold Fields, faced.

“Initially, it was my father who was working in the mines. I remember as a child, how I’d see him come back home, drenched in sweat, and tired out, everyday,” says Albert. “He used to work in the mines until he was diagnosed with silicosis- a disease which affects the lungs and is caused by long-term exposure to fine silica dust from the mines. Later, as the disease began taking a toll on him, he told BGML authorities that he could no longer continue working in the mines. This was in 1967, and Albert’s family moved to Vellore. Later, the authorities offered employment to the children of miners who worked with them.

“As the question of my father working in the mines was no longer a possibility due to silicosis steadily wearing him down, I began working in the mines, much to my mother’s discomfiture which was not unwarranted. After all, she was seeing my father dying a slow and painful death as silicosis tightened its pincer-like grip on him. However, my cousin who was also working in the mines convinced my mother to send me for work. Keeping in mind our financial constraints and the fact that our family was a large one, my mother permitted me to go for work. It was not like we had any other option. Death was certain either way- death due to silicosis or death due to starvation if we didn’t have money to fetch us a square meal a day. It was only a question of which was less painful,” he adds.

Silicosis is something which haunts Albert even today. Try as he might, he can never forget how his father suffered. The spasms of pain, the amount of blood he vomited with each cough , incessant coughing, a continual burning sensation in the chest due to ceaseless coughing, acute shortage of breath – his father suffered from all of these due to silicosis. Till date, if someone around Albert starts coughing incessantly and has continual breathing problems, his old nightmare about silicosis comes back to haunt him and he vividly remembers the pain and suffering his father had endured, until death was kind enough to grant him respite from a physically and mentally fatigued life.

It has been a decade since the mines have shut down. However, nothing has changed- be it the status of people’s unemployment, lack of housing and health facilities, or a better livelihood. Says Albert, “I was toiling away in the mines when one day I heard rumours that the mines would be shut down as they were running at a loss. I tried hard not to believe it. However, it became a reality. Call it a quirk of fate, but on the day the official announcement came, I was about to board a train which would take me to Coramandel and I missed the landing and met with an accident which resulted in my losing both my legs. Thus, I had no option but to remain at home. The same day, an announcement was made that the mines were closing down. My fellow miners were forced to retire. We were promised around five lakhs as part of the Voluntary Retirement Scheme, but we’ve barely got a lakh and that too, only after seven years of shutting down the mines. We’ve been given houses to live in. Though the houses are in our names, we are not permitted to sell them or rent them. Initially, when the houses were given to us, it was enough for most families as they had only two or three members. Now, with the lapse of time, families have grown in numbers and when we try to build extensions to our houses using the little money we can scrounge up, security is sent to our areas to forbid us from building extensions to our houses.”

As Albert is unable to work due to his handicap, it is his sons who have to work, in order to ensure the survival of their family. Two of Albert’s children work as coolie workers in Hosur and Mysore. However, their earnings go towards their own children and family. Thus, the only way Albert is able to run his family is through the earnings of his youngest son who gives him around Rs.2000 a month. Apart from this, all Albert has to fall back on is Rs.1000 which he gets as pension allowed for the handicapped and Rs.700 from BGML.

Talks of re-opening the mines are in progress. However, until then, life for residents of Kolar will continue in the same vein. This might be Albert’s story. However, it mirrors the everyday trials and tribulations of every other person in KGF.