“I might not know how to write, but I’m no less than an educated person who can not do farming.”
– Shubhna
Introduction: The Quest For A Seasonal Calendar
Given the task to make a seasonal calendar (which in case the reader doesn’t know is a tool used to record & analyse seasonal patterns including weather, crop cycles, and labor activities, within a community, generally, throughout the year) I teamed up with two of my co-fellows at India Fellow induction training – Tanvi, the recently turned extrovert Marathi mulgi and Rahul, the young shy boy from Jharkhand who says he can play guitar but hasn’t proved it yet.
We decided to casually interview the first person we see and get as much information as we could to curate the best seasonal calendar ever existed in the history of India Fellow. So, obviously, we took the easier route and chose to look for someone inside the facility.
The Setting: KVK And Badgaon — A Rural Wonderland (Minus The Wi-Fi)
Now Krishi Vigyan Kendra (KVK) is one of a kind place in Udaipur, it seems like a farming research centre since there are farms, scientists, tractors, a composting area and some kind of cheap Indian copy of flamingo birds. It is where 25 fellows including myself from all around India (almost) have come together to bring out our best self.
KVK, basically, is nestled in the middle of this very vibrant village called Badgaon, Rajasthan. One can find themselves surrounded by lush Aravalli hills and under gigantic hovering clouds which are just like your ex – you can’t always predict when they’ll burst. I mean I’m no William Wordsworth but “I have felt / a presence that disturbs me with the joy / of elevated thoughts; a sense sublime / of something far more deeply interfused.”
A Trio On A Mission
Let’s go back to my co-fellows and I trying to find our saviour, who was going to help us in making the best seasonal calendar of all time. While walking our way to the back of KVK where we hoped we would most definitely find our redeemer, we discussed how we are going to approach them and ask the perfect questions. I don’t know about Tanvi and Rahul, but I was pretty sure it was going to be a piece of cake for me. I mean I’ve been talking to people all my life. It has been my bread and butter, I’m the undisputed king of small talks.
How silly of me! All of this was about to change. Our long walk of 50 metres led us to a cattle shed, and right in front of it we saw three children, about 10 years old, swinging on a heavy metal door hanging by cable wires on a not so thick tree branch.
Swinging Into Trouble: Unexpected Encounter
We realised that this was absolutely dangerous for the children. So, we did the obvious – asked them to get off and started swinging on it ourselves. Surprisingly, Rahul the shy boy was the first one to jump on it followed by Tanvi, and eventually I hopped on it too. While three of us zoned out to a commonplace where we were having the time of our life, we forgot what we had come there for. In that moment, we forgot our age, the places we came from, our gender and most importantly our ultimate “Maqsad”.
Seeing three adults being stupid and not so mindful of how the branch the swing is tied to can actually fall on their heads, Shubhna came to us and in her polite voice warned us how the branch is quite fragile. Now, she didn’t look like a stereotypical timid Rajasthani rural woman. I thought so because she proactively engaged with us and the veil of her animated saree was on the top of her head instead of covering her face. She wasn’t quite expressive but the laughter etched in her wrinkles spoke volumes.
A Farmer With A Flair And No Time For Small Talk
Shubhna at very first glance seemed unconventional because in a usual rural setting, you’d hardly find a woman coming up to strangers to speak her mind. But she walked up to warn us and started a conversation proactively. Perhaps it was because we were at the KVK and not in a traditional village, I guess also, we were essentially trespassing on her territory!
In the next couple of sentences, Shubhna told us where she came from, her caste, and significance of her work as a farmer. Forty-year-old Shubhna was unlike any woman I had ever met. She took immense pride in her caste identity and the work she does. She had left her abusive husband behind in her village, which is 200km away from Krishi Vigyan Kendra (KVK), Udaipur where she has been working as a farmer for over ten years.
Wait, Did I Just Become Invisible!?
While she was sharing (what I felt was over sharing) about her kids, the money she makes through farming and then selling the produce, I noticed that she was completely ignoring me. It was strange and I first thought that I was just being stupid. Why would she do that? It felt unbelievable. My inner voice said, “This can not be! You’re being silly. Maybe she just didn’t hear you”. So I continued listening to her. This time she ignored me harder when she asked the other two their names and where they came from and not me.
This made me wonder if she’s doing so because of my GenZ drip or if it’s unusual for her to see a man with a nose piercing. To the extent that she’d just ignore it completely, like I don’t exist? Well, Ouch! At this point, it was quite clear to me that it was my turn to stay shut and let Tanvi and Rahul take the command of making our task successful. I digress but we were still on our mission to make the best seasonal calendar. With some eye contact, it was mutually agreed upon that Shubhna will be our redeemer, who will sail our boat to the shore.
Confronting Bias: When Skin Colour Becomes A Social Filter
She led the three of us to her room where she had a bed occupying most of the space and a really cool Flintstones-style table made from cement. She offered us tea while she got more comfortable – well, at least with the other two. While I was sitting near the room’s only window, I listened as she told Rahul that she felt closer to him because he resembled “her own kind”.
She then admitted that she couldn’t quite understand me. My words were completely alien to her. It hit me by surprise because until now I was under the impression that I spoke ‘Hindi’ in a perfectly understandable way. But Shubhna just made me rethink my whole existence. Did anyone ever really understood me or they were all just being humble? I mean I do live in my head but has my delusion been so inclusive that it even included the part where I could recognise that I have a speech problem?
Just when the thought of me having a speech disorder was about to turn into some sort of spiritual acceptance she turned to Rahul and said, “He is not our colour; he won’t understand me but you can”. Well, excuse me, Mrs. Shubhna! FYI, I am all about hip-hop music – clearly my playlist says otherwise. But anyway, wow, that escalated quickly! I felt a mix of amusement and a bit of disbelief.
Reflections on Discrimination: Finding Bias In The Most Unexpected Places (Like Your Local Chaat Stall)
From my seat by the window in Shubhna’s room, I rode on my thought train and pondered – interesting how discrimination exists in such subtle ways among us. Despite our efforts to connect, we humans still always find ways to create divisions. Shubhna’s preference for people whose skin tone was close to hers- despite our shared language- showed that she presumed someone like me, with a lighter skin colour, couldn’t understand her problems and vice versa.
Shubhna’s comfort rooted in familiarity lead her to assume my values based solely on my appearance. But I won’t categorise it as an overt act of discrimination; rather, it’s an unconscious preference that influenced our interaction or what can also be called ‘implicit bias’
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