this mountain has been mined for 53 years now, and we are told the iron ore will last for another two years or so. then they will abandon this mine, fill up the hole, and plant trees on it. "leaving mother earth as we found it" is how the assistant mines manager explains it to us.
we are standing on a hill overlooking the dalli manual mines which is a sight to make you pause and catch your breath. the open strip mines here are enormous, leading far down into the hole, where dumper trucks look like miniature lego toys. and small white square structures with a conical top that i mistake for temples (why so many in one area i wondered) turn out to be blaster shelters. the person laying the charge to the dynamite that will blast the rock from the mountainside sits inside this to protect himself before he lights the fuse. each layer is called a bench and is 5 metres high - the limit of the sweep of the excavator. the ledge is as wide if not wider. these mines are completely mechanised now but are still called by their original name of manual mines.
strips of white among the prevailing rust red are where there is no iron ore, and this has now to be removed to get to the ore under it. the iron content here is over 60%, and the mines produce 1.2 million tons of iron ore a year. a sign tells us that on 31st may this year, the mines have achieved 929 accident-free days.
i cannot help wondering how much earth it will take to fill a hole this size, and where it will come from - will it not leave another area somewhere devoid of its topsoil, or make another hole?
the view from my room with the profusion of trees on the campus. the hill where the mines are is seen only dimly in the hot afternoon haze. a part of the hospital building is seen to the left.
i have been here for nearly a week now, and the sound of the blasting on the hills around dalli still startles me. sometimes i see a cloud of dust rising from a far-off hillside, but at other times i cannot make out where the earth is being blasted to lay bare its treasure of ore. the rajhara mines are strip mines: the ore is mined from the surface of the earth, in contrast to the typical mental image one has of mines, which has a pit going deep into the earth in a mine shaft and then horizontal tunnels under the earth.
the shaheed hospital sits on a hillside just outside the town of dalli rajhara, and across the valley is a huge rust-red hill, which has numerous parallel lines on it which i realise is the winding dirt road on which trucks ply all day long. i hope to be able to visit the mines sometime.
the hospital is a 100 bedded one, constructed and managed by mines workers who felt the need to have something of their own, where they would be treated with dignity, and where they could get affordable health care. it is always full to capacity and overflowing, with patients on the floor and in the corridors as well. at present it has seven doctors including dr saibal jana who has been here for the past 25 years. his wife alpana jana is a nurse, who has helped to train the 26 local girls who work in the hospital and provide nursing care, as well as handle most of the deliveries in the labour room.the patients' relatives cook in a long hall fitted with 21 sets of smokeless chulhas; and a separate room provided with LPG gas stoves for those who can pay the required amount of Rs. 20 per hour to cook a meal.
the campus has a variety of trees - amaltas, neem, mango, drumstick, bel, karanj, palash, banyan, and others in addition to the bougainvillea and hibiscus that grow in profusion everywhere. what amazes me is the number of sparrows here, including the couple that has persisted in building its nest in my room in spite of my efforts to shoo them away. in the process they litter my room with several handfuls of grass, small feathers, string and other ingredients essential to the building of their home. i love the sound they make. not since my days in bokaro in the 70s have i seen so many sparrows. lately i have neither seen nor heard them at all: i dont recall any in bhopal, and my part of the town in bilaspur has few birds, and certainly no sparrows. the blasts on the hillsides seem to bother them not at all.
i was in karangabahla earlier this week. priti and muskaan look happy to be there. here they are in their school uniform, with the holy family nuns. they are outside a toilet complex that is being constructed with financial help from friends and well-wishers.
if you board the 08788 passenger train at raipur, it will take you slowly, over three and a half hours, to dalli rajhara - a distance of 126 km. the train meanders past durg through the dry hot countryside, never stopping long at any one place, but not leaving out any station either. risama, gundardehi, balod, kusumkasa - these are stations i have not glimpsed before.
at bhilai a large group of young men gets on with equipment which they stack carefully at one end of the coach. they wear sky-blue T-shirts with "Bhilai Giants" embroidered on the pocket. with easy camaraderie, they share cucumbers, bottles of water, and their earphones to listen to songs on their mobiles. they are headed to dalli for a series of cricket matches this week.
i sit up straight, not wanting my kurta to stick to my back in the sweltering heat. twice i get down to fill my water bottle at the station - lukewarm water from a tap on the platform, but it tastes good. my eyes and throat dry up every so often, and i can feel grit on my face. the glare of the sun hurts my eyes, and i squint down at the book i am reading, though i would prefer to look out of the window.
we pass once an area that has many railway wagons piled high with iron ore. there are low hills beyond, and we have passed the station before i could see what it was. as we pass through this place, the wind blows in reddish dust, instead of the usual grey dust during the rest of the journey.
at 1 pm on a hot april afternoon, we pull into dalli rajhara, after passing through miles of hills of iron ore, that are being mined to feed the steel plant at bhilai. dalli is too small to be marked on most maps. this is the end of the railway line on this route.
for those who wish to contribute to the hostel at karangabahla run by the holy family sisters, i now have the bank details. they have a society to which you can directly send money: would be best to deposit in any bank of baroda branch in your city - in which case your cheque will be a local cheque and collection charges are waived. also transfer is within 48 hours. mailing the cheque to them will entail collection charges and a long lag period for enchashment.
Shantidhara Society
Bank of Baroda,
Pathalgaon,
Account no. 30220100001594
you can either call up sr chaitanya (095894 43304) or email me about the amount and the date sent and i will inform her so that she can keep track.
thank you for your generosity.
sr chaitanya of the holy family convent, karangabahla tells me that priti and muskaan are settling in well. their father called and spoke to them yesterday.
several people had called/ written in asking how they could help the two girls. i have told them that in addition to priti and muskaan, there are other girls staying at the hostel who may need support too. i had written to sr chaitanya asking whether they needed any funds for the hostel facilities, since i had noticed it was sparsely furnished. also anything for the boarders.
she discussed it in her community and they are surprised and touched that people they do not know are wanting to help them. they did have a list but were very hesitant to ask since they feel it is a lot of money, though it is actually quite modest.
if anyone is interested to contribute / know more, please do write to me.
priti and muskaan have been at the hostel for a week now. when i spoke to them earlier this evening, both were in high spirits, said they were going to school but today was a holiday. the younger child interrupted her conversation with me to say she could not talk further as she had to go and play with her friends.
their father had called them two days ago, but they were in bed at that time but he spoke to the nun in charge of the convent.
