Voice of Bihar’s unpaid govt workers fades away

The self-immolation of Chandan Bhattacharya on the Independence Day of 2002 and an Indian Express campaign titled Bihar’s Bloodless Murder—the first report of August 25, 2002, was on Parijat—brought to national attention the plight of nearly 40,000 employees of the state’s PSUs who had not been paid for a decade. Following a SC intervention, the state government paid Rs 50 crore into a corpus which is now being distributed among the unpaid employees as interim relief.

Parijat’s fight with cancer has pushed his children into further distress—they have borrowed nearly Rs 50,000 at interest rates ranging between 120 and 240 per cent per year. ‘‘After Papa’s death, the moneylenders have become restless. They are telling us to clear off the debt immediately,’’ says Pratima, his daughter. Her elder sister Celina is going through a marriage break-up, the younger one Aditi is at a dead-end after finishing school. All of them had to stop attending school ever since the salary stopped for their father. ‘‘We took tuition classes to make a living and appeared as private students in university exams,’’ Pratima says. Celina is an English graduate. One brother had died earlier; Chandan, unable to continue to his studies, chose to commit suicide.

Death came before retirement for Parijat. He had four more years of service. His accumulated due is nearly Rs 19 lakh. Parijat got Rs 2 lakh from the corpus, most of which went into his treatment. Parijat and several others had approached the HC for intervention. Chandan chose to immolate himself before the high court protesting the inaction of the government and the court.

Parijat was a worried man that he had only debt to leave behind for his children. He pleaded to everyone who was willing to listen, for a job for his children. Nothing materialised. A dozen of his friends took him for cremation, and gradually everyone drifted away.

Cornered literally into a small leaking rented room, the siblings are unsure of their tomorrow. Preying eyes are around, someone has already invited one of the sisters to ‘‘come alone’’ to receive some help.

Nineteen-year-old Amar, the only male member in the family, is now desperate for a job for himself or his sisters. ‘‘Please help me find a job,’’ he pleads.

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