In Phanishwar Nath Renu’s short story Thes, the protagonist Sirchan asks the narrator, “Meri gharwaali zinda rahti tou main aise durdasha bhogta? (If my wife was alive today, would I have gone through this?). This year is Renu’s birth centenary, and just 15 km from his village in Bihar’s Araria, three orphans wake up every morning with a similar question, ever since their parents succumbed to Covid in May this year. Five months later, their grandmother, their sole remaining guardian, also passed away. Those left behind in the family now are Soni Kumari (19), Nitish (15), and Chandani (13)—three youngsters left to face life’s struggles alone.
Their father, Birendra Mehta, was the local ‘physician’; a self-styled doctor who prescribed allopathic medicine to the village folk without training or license. He was just 40 when he was infected with coronavirus while treating infected people. Soon after, his wife Priyanka, 32, was also found to be Covid-positive. The children rushed their parents to a private nursing home in neighbouring Purnia district, selling a piece of land and a goat to raise money for their treatment. But Mehta’s condition had worsened by then and he passed away soon after at the hospital.
Two days after Mehta’s death, the children ran out of money. And they had to bring their ailing mother back to their village, Madhulata in Raniganj block. But, on the fourth day, her condition turned critical. The eldest daughter, Soni, ran from hospital to hospital—in neighbouring Raniganj and Forbesganj blocks—to save her mother. But Priyanka died on the way to Madhepura, a neighbouring district. Their troubles were just beginning, though. The death of their parents in a span of four days spread panic among the illiterate villagers and they refused to attend her funeral. In one of the most poignant and tragic stories that emerged out of Bihar during the pandemic, Soni dug a grave and buried her mother near her father. A photograph of Soni, dressed in a PPE kit, went viral on social media, highlighting the plight of the poor in rural Bihar ravaged by the coronavirus.
Araria, about 350 km from Bihar capital Patna, has been placed second among India’s poorest districts in the recent report by Niti Aayog on Multidimensional Poverty Index. The report names Bihar as the poorest state in the country with around 52 per cent poor population. While Kishanganj tops the list with 64.75 per cent poor population, Araria is a close second with 64.65 per cent in poverty.
Hidden in the lifeless numbers are the tragic tales of children like Soni and her siblings. And many others left orphaned by the pandemic. The National Commission for Protection of Children’s Rights (NCPCR) told the Supreme Court that 6,855 children were orphaned across India due to the pandemic between April 1, 2020 and July 23, 2021. More than 68,000 children lost at least one parent in the same period.
Living in a half-completed three-room house their parents had built, the three siblings now stare at the life of uncertainties—about their studies, their farmland, their future. “We are totally dependent on agriculture for our livelihood and education. My father used to earn with his medical services in the village and my mother took care of the cattle and fields,” said Soni, who had just returned from their one-bigha field where she was sowing maize along with her brother. She looks at a few sacks and paddy crop in the courtyard. She is tired but there is still work to be done before sunset. They also have to cut paddy straw to feed their two cows. The family has another piece of land which they got from their uncle as security when he borrowed Rs 25,000 from their father. They are growing potato and mustard in the field, which is near the graves of their parents and grandmother. “While going to the field, we sit near the graves. It will take time. We can’t forget them all of a sudden.” Soni added.
They have seen so many deaths in the last one year that even childhood happiness like buying new clothes is associated with a Hindu ritual after death. “Daadi ke kriya-karam par naya kapda khareede the,” (We bought new clothes after our grandmother’s death rituals),” says Chandani, the youngest. “I like to wear boy’s dresses. My father used to say I am a son, not a girl. He always bought me jeans and t-shirts.”
The siblings did receive Rs 4 lakh as compensation from the state government for their mother’s death, but eight months later, they are yet to receive the amount for their father’s death. They visit the district headquarter every tenth day, but things do not move forward. “There is no one to earn in the family. Our education and day-to-day expanses are met with the money we received. If we get the other compensation, it will help us a lot,” said Soni.
The burden of livelihood has all but shattered their childhood dreams. Soni and Nitish wanted to become doctors and Chandani has a dream to become a teacher. But they don’t see much hope left to fulfil these dreams. “With our parents gone, who will fulfil my dreams now? After cooking, taking care of the cows, fields and doing household chores, I make time at night to study occasionally,” said Soni, her voice choking with emotions. Soni is in Class XI while Nitish is a student of Class IX.
Life’s harsh lessons have turned even young Chandani into a pragmatic young woman. “I wanted to be a teacher when my parents were alive. I don’t know what I will do now. I am in Class VIII, but we don’t have money to complete our education,” she said, hiding her pain behind her smile.
(This appeared in the print edition as "Graveyard of Dreams: The Story of Soni")
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