Editorial: Another day in paradise

Earlier this week, we reported a harrowing story that involved three agricultural labourers from West Bengal collapsing due to starvation in the Central Railway Station. The condition of the labourers was said to be critical, with two of them suffering from kidney failure, and the third on ventilator support. As many as five agricultural workers who had been admitted to RGGGH, had arrived in Tamil Nadu, on the assurance of daily wages to the tune of Rs 300. The condition of migrant workers was indicative of the unemployment stress endured by those employed in the unorganised sector.

There are many causative or determinant factors here that should bring our blood to boil. For starters, this newspaper pointed out that the bus stop outside RGGGH which is right opposite Chennai Central station has a line of kiosks run by NGOs and philanthropists, which function as makeshift soup kitchens, where free meals are offered to patients and attendants from economically underserved families. Unfortunately, the Bengali workers were oblivious to the presence of such facilities, possibly due to the language barrier. Subsisting on a meal of tea and biscuits, they soon ran out of money, had no one to turn to, and had to suffer the indignity of dehydration and weakness.

For those of us under the assumption that this might be a one-off episode, here’s a reality check. Four years ago, when COVID-19 was declared a public health emergency, the PM announced a total lockdown. Overnight, millions of guest workers were rendered jobless, and they gathered their humble belongings to embark on thousand-mile journeys by foot. This was because few of their employers had set aside a corpus that would come in handy at a time of emergency. The stories that were televised on news channels were heartrending, with serpentine queues of humanity braving the ruthless heat and undertaking perilous journeys to their home states, with money for neither food nor water.

At that time, it was the Samaritan spirit of people in various metros like Chennai, Bengaluru and Mumbai, which rose to the occasion and prompted citizens to build makeshift kitchens that would serve khichdis, rotis and dals to weary travellers chancing upon their districts, all while the fear of the coronavirus contagion ran high. Back to the recent episode, it might be foolhardy to pin the blame on the apathy of co-passengers or the public, who might have turned the other way, in the event of being accosted by someone whose visage flies under the radar of privilege.

But here’s the deal, there are areas where we can change the status quo for good. Agitating against the shoving of Hindi down the throats of Tamilians might earn brownie points for the political belligerents involved. But it’s a losing game as far as our image as a socially-inclusive society goes. How taxing can it really be for those in charge of public services like rail, bus, or road transport to learn a few words of Hindi, so that they can guide a hungry man or woman to the nearest Gurudwara for a free meal? The Amma canteens might be gasping for their final breaths, but the current administration could still look into setting up subsidised canteens for the masses, which won’t burn a hole in the exchequer. Maybe, it’s also time to consider the idea of the Universal Basic Income, but that’s a subject to be dealt with another day.