Tags:
Journalism of Courage
Fifty out of 80 porters in Pune8217;s 8216;coolie village8217; opted to be gangmen. But now, months later, they are back in their village, saying they can8217;t handle the pressures of their new job.
Every February, when the Railway Minister rises to make his Budget speech in Parliament, houses across Dhore Bhambure erupt in loud cheers before hushing up and turning on the television volume to a blast. Here in 8220;coolie village8221;, where people in 80 out of 300 families worked as porters in the Pune railway station till very recently, the Railway Budget is an important annual occasion, with people hanging on to the minister8217;s every word.
About 45 kilometres from Pune, Dhore Bhambure sits on the banks of river Bhima, a tributary of the Krishna. With its rows of bajra and groundnut fields, the well-stocked local market, the gram panchayat office, the Marathi-medium school, and with most of the men working for the railways8212;of the 255 coolies in Pune station, over 80 are from here8212;Dhore Bhambure seems as placid and content as the Bhima that flows by.
But these are mere quibbles. These days the villagers are worried about something more basic: their jobs. It began with the last Railway Budget, they say. In his Budget speech, Railway Minister Lalu Prasad Yadav said that licensed porters would be appointed as gangmen, a job that would make them employees of the Indian Railways and also give them salaries and other benefits, which includes pension after retirement. According to rules, a licensed porter should be medically fit and not be more than 50 years old to be eligible as gangmen. It was a populist move that resulted in a substantial increase in the railways8217; salary bill.
On the day of the Budget, Dhore Bhambure let out the loudest cheer8212;all the porters would now have secure jobs and fixed salaries. Or so they thought. Now, over six months after the announcement, most of the porters who opted to become gangmen are back home. The job of a gangman is too demanding, they say, and now they want their porter licences back.
Shantaram Thigale, a porter-turned-gangmen, said the lure of a secure future in the Railways was too hard to turn down and by May 15, 50 out of 80 porters in the village became gangmen without understanding the nature of work that they were to do. 8220;There were rumours that if we lose this opportunity, we would lose our jobs as porters too. Most of us are illiterate and did not understand that it was voluntary,8221; he said.
8220;As porters, we were used to working at our own will. Also, we would get time to rest in between train arrivals. But as gangmen, we don8217;t get a minute8217;s rest. We have to clean the tracks, put gravels, change rails, patrol and so on. We walk over 16 kilometres every day for patrolling and repair works. The equipments that we carry weigh 35-40 kg and working in the sun is exhausting. At times, we patrol the tracks all alone and this is unsafe,8221; said Santosh Tukaram Dhore, 30, who worked as a porter for five years before becoming a gangman.
Soon, the newly-appointed gangmen began complaining about their pay slips too. As porters, they said, they would earn as much as Rs 300-400 a day but the gross salary of Rs 7,488 they got as gangmen was deceptive. After the deductions, they got around Rs 5,000 in hand.
More complaints: the railway ministry had taken away their badges and now they want it back. Also, they have to travel a lot more than they did earlier and that meant eating out while at work and other expenses.
Some of them were transferred to railway lines far away from their village and had to live away from their families. 8220;Our expenses have grown and our salaries have shrunk. If only I knew this before opting to be a gangman,8221; said Dyaneshwar Bhambure, 45, who was transferred to Jejuri line, about 80 kilometres from Dhore Bhambure.
