Blisters, a broken conversation, a selfie
It is about 4.30 am. Rahul Rao, the national chairman of the media wing of the Indian Youth Congress, is feverish and his body is hurting all over. The Bharat Jodo Yatra has spent overnight in containers near Halakundi Mutt, Ballari, and is to cover 24 km to Rampur, just a breath short of the 1,000-km mark of the 3,500-km march.
Rao, 38, who belongs to Haryana and was the state president of the National Students’ Union of India (NSUI), is among the more than 117 people walking with Rahul for the entire length of the Yatra.
A first-generation politician, Rao says he is not used to walking more than 2-4 km a day – his limit before the Yatra. One of the committed “Bharat Yatris” who started the march with Rahul from Kanyakumari in Tamil Nadu on September 5, he is struggling, he admits, with cramps and blisters.
Today, a Friday, his day started with a bath at the camp — which springs up like a mini-village place to place as it moves – followed by some fruits, paratha and curd for breakfast at the common tent for meals. He is ready by 5.45 am. Like every day, the Yatris begin the march after hoisting the Tricolour and singing the national anthem, accompanied by Rahul.
Feeling under the weather, Rao consults the doctors who are moving with the Yatris, who advise a painkiller and some anti-viral tablets, and finally begins the march around 6.40 am. An ambulance also follows the Yatris to provide immediate aid.
Immediately, the sight of the people lined up on both sides of the road to greet the Yatris seems to revive Rao. He knows no Kannada and the people present know neither Hindi nor English, but it does not matter.
A villager runs up to Rao asking, “Ellinda bandidiri (Where have you come from)?”. Rao replies: “Kanyakumari”. The villager wants more: “Yaav ooru nimdhu?”. Rao understands the man means his native place, and smiles: “Haryana”. The next question is whether Rao will walk up to Kashmir with Rahul. Rao picks the word Kashmir from the sentence, and replies: “Yes!” The man now wants to know his name, and when Rao doesn’t get it at first, says “naam”, in Hindi. When Rao answers “Rahul”, the villager is thrilled, at the similarity with Rahul Gandhi’s name, and insists on a selfie before Rao can carry on.
Rao says that since the start of the Yatra, it is this excitement of the people they have been meeting that has been an inspiration. By 11 am, and the sun at 28 degrees Celsius, Rao has completed the first leg of the day’s march, covering 13.5 km, and has run into old NSUI colleagues. He chats with them for a while, before deciding to take a brief nap at a camp set up for the Yatris to take a break, before the walk begins again.
Talking about his experience so far, in Kerala, Tamil Nadu and now Karnataka, Rao, a long distance from home, says: “It’s all a new experience. In Kerala, we received massive response and the people there were very helpful. Wherever we walked, the public gave us water and whatever help they could. Compared to other places, the stretch that we took from Chitradurga to Ballari was hot and exhausting. But nowhere has language been a barrier.”
The bed at the container allotted to him is half the size of the one at home, Rao says, but he has “adjusted”. “The diversity I am enjoying through the walk is something.”
Over lunch, he again catches up with the other Bharat Yatris. His body ache has flared up again, especially in the legs, and he needs to take another painkiller. Rahul Gandhi has been using the break to interact with some unemployed youth, who have been brought to meet him by the Youth Congress.
The Yatra resumes at 4 pm, and Rao needs frequent breaks to cover the 9.5 km left of the day’s march. However, he says, he will not get into a vehicle. “Once you do so, you enter a comfort zone. Chances of you needing a vehicle are very high the next time. I am very particular about that,” he says.
Nature seems to take mercy on Rao as by 5 pm, it’s overcast and there is a cool breeze calming the Yatris. By 6.30 pm, as they reach Hirenahalli toll plaza, Rao seems to have a new spring in his step, chatting with fellow marchers, and trying to strike up a conversation sportingly with a tea seller, before friends step in to help. As he waits for Rahul Gandhi’s arrival, there is a sudden shower, and he rushes to a bus stop nearby for shelter.
Once Rahul has arrived, all take a bus to the camp for the night. With the rain not letting up, Rao has to rush his dinner and hit the bed by 9.30 pm.
On why he will keep going, Rao says: “I cannot sit at home when my party leader is walking on the road. It is also one of the historic marches of Independent India, and I want to be a part of it.”
Barefeet, longing for Christmas, watching states go by
Chandy Oommen has set a brisk pace among his group of Yatris, but it has not been easy. The Kerala leader and son of former chief minister Oommen Chandy has been walking barefoot since Thrissur in Kerala, and after more than 500 km and 31 days of his march, he is almost limping as the Yatra winds through Mayasandra in Tumakuru district.
“I wanted to understand the hardships suffered by the people of this nation,” he says, on why he has shunned footwear.
Many among his fellow Yatris, shod in shoes and sandals, are not faring any better. Many have a limp, or signs of shoebite and fatigue; several have taken ill and have had to turn for help to the ambulance trailing the Yatris.
The Yatra numbers are thinner in the morning, as the early hours usually deter those joining in for a stretch. However, the numbers gathered along the roads to greet the marchers are constant, and excited.
In the Mayasandra to Turuvekere (both in Tumakuru district) leg that Oommen and others are walking, many use broken Hindi to question the Yatris: “Kidhar se ho aap (Where are you from)?”. Others just greet with a namaste, their eyes strained to catch a glimpse of Congress leader Rahul Gandhi, who usually walks a kilometre behind the front rows, in a big security cordon.
The Yatris, among them doctors, lawyers, students and workers of various wings, also strike a conversation with the people waiting to greet them. Akshay Yadav Krantiveer, from Allahabad, Uttar Pradesh, carries a notebook to jot down details of the people and things he finds interesting. He plans to pen a travelogue once the five-month journey concludes.
Kim Haokip from Manipur has a bandage around her sprained leg. The pain doesn’t hurt as much as the tinge of sadness at missing Christmas this time at home with her family. However, she says, her husband, a son and a daughter are all supportive.
Mohammed Junaid, who is from Karnataka, says his wife broke down and did not want him to go as they had a child less than a year ago. “I had to console her and convince her about the importance of this endeavour,” he says.
Dr Sushrutha Hedna, a neurologist, sees the Yatra as an opportunity to have a closer look at the healthcare mechanisms in the country.
As they march, a group of women yatris enter into an animated discussion about the state of children in parts of Tumakuru. “Why are so many children stunted here? Is this because of mining?” asks a Yatri. Another responds in the negative. “Mining districts are still far away. This is probably due to malnutrition,” she reasons.
Some among the marchers who have been on the road for more than a month now say they no longer feel the pain in the legs. “It hurt for a week, doesn’t hurt now,” says former JNU Students’ Union president Kanhaiya Kumar, who joined the Congress a year ago.
Having shot to fame with his fiery speeches and videos taking on the BJP and Prime Minister Narendra Modi, Kanhaiya is among the most recognisable faces among the marchers. People regularly stop him for selfies and photos.
“The response has been different in the states we have passed through. People poured ontot the streets in densely populated states such as Kerala. It’s different in sparsely populated areas,” he says. Also noticeable, he adds, is the difference in prosperity between Kerala and Karnataka.
“It shows that welfarism has not actually reached people in these parts. The rich are very wealthy, and the poor are very poor, unlike Kerala, with a large middle class,” says the former leader of the CPI.
This stretch of the march also features senior Congress leader Digvijaya Singh, whose name briefly surfaced in the party presidential contest. Long yatras are not new to him, and he has missed the march for only six of the 30-plus days till now, Singh notes.
In 2017, he had taken out a Narmada Yatra over six-and-a-half months. Bharat Jodo Yatra has been “a good experience”, Singh says, as he looks on at fellow Yatris mobbing a stall for tea or coffee, with the owner couple pleasantly surprised at this sudden business.
In the bustle, someone nearly spills tea all over a fellow Yatri — who are all clad in their Gandhi whites. “One who spills will have to wash the clothes,” quips Singh. Peals of laughter follow.
While the march was subdued in the morning, it gains a different flavour towards the evening hours. More and more people join in as Congress leaders bring supporters.
Outside Rahul Gandhi’s security cordon, a large mob always follows him. There is a randomness to the people he meets during the march. It could be children, adults or senior citizens. He stops to greet them, and walks with them, talking for a while, before they drop back. The Congress leaders who march with him work as translators.
Rahul, because of these unplanned halts, is usually the last to arrive at the final destination for the day, and today arrives almost an hour after the first marchers.
The Yatra finally calls it a day around 6.30 to 7 pm. As the vehicles fitted with speakers, playing patriotric and other songs to keep the tempo up, turn off the sound one by one, the marchers are ferried to the camp for the night.