Stories of Child Farmers

ILLUSTRATING STORIES FROM REAL LIFE

In 2013 India was rocked by a sudden spate of farmer suicides, particularly in the regions of Vidarbha, Maharashtra. A few months later a project was initiated by Prof. Shilpa Ranade who with her creative team visited the region to document the farmers’ stories, their lives and the role BT cotton played in the suicides. This was done through conversations with the surviving family members.

Prof. Ranade invited different illustrators to respond to these texts and scripts. We had to turn them into stories that would become part of a collective graphic novel. As a struggling artist I was able to identify with some conflicts faced by Indian farmers. My own frustrations were projected into intricate and disturbing images of burden, grief, innocence, responsibility and loneliness. Since the setting of the stories was rural, I wrote and illustrated two stories in local languages (Marathi and Hindi) and then translated them into English – ‘The Setting Sun’ and ‘My type of God’.

To know more about this issue, and the urgent need for using indigenous seeds, you can read a research article here.

More Info: Funded by The Damroo Project | IDC IIT Bombay
Year: 2013

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Stories of Child Farmers

Bymenuyes-ruchishah

The setting sun – (Hindi)
Sau, sau katha suni hain, ab Suman, ki bhí suney. Vipatti ban gayi jabse mitra uski. Ab ankh bhi na bharey.
“Kissan beej bota hai, fal jo na woh chakhe. Yeh chakker nirantar, maya, kaun yeh khel rache?”
Soya bean, Javari, Arhar, aayo sab soonkhe. Jag, sarkar, parivaar, bolo, kaun hisab dhare?
Jyoti Geeta bas naam ke, bojh yeh kaun sahe? Bhor bana andhiyaara udhar khatam kaun karey?
School, padhai, mitra ko bhool, ek hi aasha liye, Janm detey, detey, hum apney… atma samarpan karey.

The setting sun (English)
Of a hundred similar stories, lets here another one. Sadness and misery walk at her side – narrates Suman,
‘A farmer sows the seeds, she says ‘But enjoy that, he may not “Who designs this endless cycle in which we all are caught?”
‘Soyabean, javari, arhar, are all, afraid to grow. Common man or the mighty sarkar, who will bear the blow?”
‘Jyoti Geeta’s names are but, ironies of fate…. Who will carry their burden? Who can bear the weight? Dawn turns into darkness and dries up all my sweat, I wipe my forehead thinking, who will pay this debt?”
‘School, studies, friends and foes are forgotten with a sigh! Instead of giving birth each day… I would rather die

“Ruchi’s interpretation of two tragic stories we had documented, form part of a volume of stories on this rampant issue, entitled ‘Child Farmers’. She has been able to empathize with the plight of the affected families, in a unique representation, which is poetic and deeply moving.”

Shilpa Ranade [Head of Animation, IDC, IIT Bombay]

My kind of God (Marathi)
Sakaalche, chaar vajle, vajle, mi ghar jhaadle, jhaadle, Sagle kapde dhuvun taakle!
Mag mi karte nehmicha swayampaak, ‘Kartye! Aata bhandi ghaas’, Aai saangte maarun haak.
Gothyatale shen kadhun, kadhun, shetatla kaapus khudun, khudun, Ani pani bharun, bharun. Jaganach sampla, kaam karun.
Amhala khelaaychi muli ichchach urli nahin…. Mothya jhalat, kaam kara, log sangtat kahibahi!
Aata kashi mi bhaju asha devala, takiche ghaav sosoon, majhyatach devpana aala.

My kind of God (English)
Early morning, at the crack of dawn. I wash away the settled dust; it’s gone.
Cooking some vegetables, dry roti and rice… I’m praying to god, ‘Will it suffice?”
The highlights of the day cow dung and cotton, An actualized life, is forgone and forgotten.
No more enjoying a game of fun or play. forgetting childishness, maturity’s a cliche.
Misery, toil and hardwork etched into his every bone, A farmer shall occupy the space next to God, let this be known.

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