Ten years ago, Rapolu Yallaiah took voluntary retirement. This scheme was not in vogue then and of course there was no name for it. He used to work in Bombay cloth mills. His daughter Vimala grew up and reached the marriageable age. Till then he could manage his family without wanting. He was at a loss as to how he should celebrate his daughter’s marriage as he could not raise a loan. He resigned from his job in order to get the provident fund amount.

His daughter’s marriage with Lakshman was celebrated on a decent scale. But he lost his job in Bombay. In 1982 Datta Samanth made workers go on strike for a year and a half and  more than a lakh workers, lost their jobs. Yellaiah thought that when he could manage to live somehow during that period of service could he not live by resigning?

After his daughter’s marriage he left Bombay and went to Bhivandi. The working hours in Bhivandi were longer. They had to work for twelve hours a day. There was no provision for provident fund and  laws for the safety of the workers were not  in existence then. He returned after four years of having fallen ill.

Yellaiah belonged to a village in Kodimyala mandal, Jagtial division. If a person gets used to live amidst trees and in the forest, he would not be able to leave that place and go elsewhere. He will get used to gossiping with people and spend time drinking toddy under the date trees. How long can he live sitting at home doing nothing? So, Yellaiah started taking up small jobs and made a living. He celebrated his son’s marriage. But the dowry he received was not sufficient to meet the wedding expenses.

He spent money for the birthday celebrations of grandsons and granddaughters. Debts increased by thousands. As he grew older, other responsibilities also increased. He could not help but do some work. But he had no land to cultivate. He had no plough. He had no bullocks.

He opened a tea shop at his doorstep. But it did not work out well. He had no money to be used as outlay. He felt that he would not be able to go to Bhivandi and so accepted work as a laborer in a powerloom in Siricilla.

Siricilla was better than Bhivandi. There was no queue at the toilets, at the eating places and at the resting places as in Bhivandi. There was cool breeze and a lot of brightness… He was happy. But in Siricilla power supply was erratic. If there was power, the weaving mills were not sound. If there was no regular work, it meant no regular income.

Yellaiah reconciled himself to the situation as life was just moving on somehow… he would go to his village once in ten days, spend time with his grandchildren, with his son, daughter-in-law and others.

Though work was irregular, he did not feel it bad. If there was no work on a day, he would take a bus and go home. He would forget all the pain in the working place. He got unadulterated toddy at home. He had sound sleep after he had his drink. Yellaiah ran the family in this manner, now working, now remaining idle.

His second daughter stopped studying after seventh class. She was reaching the marriageable age. His son shifted to Metpalli taking his wife saying that he would do some work there. The house looked empty.

As matters stood, the owner of the powerloom, where Yellaiah worked, committed suicide. It was rumored that he committed suicide as his establishment did not function well, as his debts increased, also the interest. Those who gave him loans cursed him silently. Those who owed him money were happy that they could avoid payment.

Yellaiah failed to understand why the cloth woven after hard work did not fetch reasonable amount of money. He was of course used to drinking toddy at home, but his owner was a tea-to taller. He would be doing some work or other from morning to evening like all other workers. Then why could he not make money worth his name? Will he not be able to put by some money unless he earned a higher wage? As for himself, what did Yellaiah earn by doing the work of a laborer? If he worked for a low wage, what would he eat? How would he live?

The association of powerloom owners arranged a condolence meeting. They discussed how they could avoid such a crisis in the future. Yellaiah started working with another owner.

A year passed. The second owner of Yellaiah hanged himself. At that time the cost of yarn shot up. Power charges increased. People said if the cost of these two items was brought down, the number of suicides would drop.

The government had given permission to export cotton yarn to foreign countries without proper thinking. As a result, cotton yarn was in short supply in the local market and the prices doubled. If this situation had not been brought about, there would have been no suicides, said some. Yellaiah thought that it was a fact and tried to find a job at some other place. But in Siricilla the problem was the same with every owner.

When Yellaiah came home, Yellaiah’s neighbor, Venkataiah, committed suicide not being able to repay loans, not being able to find work at a powerloom and also because of hunger. Everyone felt that it was most unfortunate that he should kill himself for being indebted for a paltry sum of twenty thousand rupees.

Yellaiah imagined the problem of Venkataiah as his own and became depressed. He imagined as though he himself had died. Many other thoughts troubled him. He could not stay at home and could not think of going back to Siricilla.

His son-in-law and daughter invited him to stay with them at Godavarikhani. Lakshman, his son-in-law was a good man. But he had his problems and did not know how things would turn up.

Yellaiah now realized why it was said one should not go and stay with the son-in-law. As long as he was away from them, he had the feeling that they were leading a good life. Now that he was with them, he lost that satisfaction. The company of his grandchildren gave him some consolation, no doubt.

His son-in-law looked skin and bones having worked hard. Yellaiah thought of starting a petty business. Vimala was happy as her father was with her. He engaged the children, played with them, fetched water, vegetables and took the children to the school and brought them back….

Vimala could find some leisure because of the presence of her father. His daughter and son-in-law improved their looks and health. The vegetable cart he started did not work well as there were many vendors on push carts. Yellaiah went back home as he did not find his stay profitable there.

When Yellaiah left them, they both cried. Lakshman had asked his father to visit Godavarikhani many times, but his father refused to go there.

“If I work in your place carrying earth you will feel bad. I too do not feel it would be proper. How can we live if I don’t work? How are the two other children to grow? How am I to perform their marriages?” he asked.

Vimala and Lakshman realized how a house would resemble heaven if there was an elderly member present in the house. That was the reason why their eyes moistened when they bade farewell to Yellaiah.

Yellaiah wanted to go back to weaving. But he was not sure whether people would buy the cloth woven by him. He would have to invest a lot of money too. But he had no money. If people wore hand woven cloth will there be hunger deaths? Finally, he took a job with a weaver at Garshakurti.

Mill cloth was available everywhere. Also, readymades. Foreign stuff too. There was respect when people dressed in those clothes. Why should cotton wool be exported? Why should we import their cloth? Could our hand-woven cloth compete with their fashions?

“During Gandhi’s time people talked of hand-woven cloth. They called it “swadeshi’. Where has all that enthusiasm gone now?” said an important man of the handloom society. Yellaiah did not get the passport of that question. He cursed the mills that were destroying their lives.

Many thoughts bothered Yellaiah. ‘If yarn made in far off places were brought here and sold, we too must have the freedom to go to those places and work there. When that facility and freedom is not provided to us, how are we to work and make a living?’ He kept thinking.

Yellaiah's house was agog with joy and happiness for the Dussehra festival when his daughter Vimala, son-in-law, grandchildren, the parents of his son-in-law, and daughter-in-law turned up to stay with him for a few days.

His son-in-law Laxman informed Yellaiah that the doctors of his company declared him unfit to continue the job. They suggested that he should opt for voluntary retirement.

“Will they drop me out after using me as a machine? The salary they paid me got spent as and when they paid me. How am I to live when I have lost the energy and strength in my limbs? How am I to educate my children?” lamented Lakshman. By morning the jolly atmosphere of the festive day turned into gloom.

“The company does not even possess the kind of gratitude which a dog expresses. How unjust?” Vimala, Yellaiah’s daughter cried.

“How will human beings live if machines that do the work of man are introduced?” demanded Veeraiah, Yellaiah’s son-in-law’s father, as if Yellaiah was responsible for the crisis.

“That is what I am also thinking. I wonder whom we should ask for redress” replied Yellaiah.

Veeraiah used to dig earth and do allied work. The advent of tractors and modern machinery displaced him from his work.

“My second son has been trying to go to Arab countries. Can you help him monetarily, Yellaiah?” asked Veeraiah.

“The professions followed by a caste or a community have not been feeding us. We do not know when the new professions will close their doors. The hope that tomorrow will help is dwindling. How are we to live?” philosophized Yellaiah in a sing-song manner.

Thoughts like the above are rendered in a song by wandering mendicants and sanyasis generally but such singing got confined to be sung at the last rites of a dead person. This reaction of Yellaiah filled the house again with gloom and sorrow.

“Are these industries helping people to live by hitting hard the common man? Can a lay man or a man reduced to skin and bones compete with a man that goes in a car? What is the use of these plans and programs that do not give work to hands that can work? Why these governments?” shot out Lakshman.

Yellaiah agreed that there was reason in the words of his son-in-law though he felt that the words used by him were high sounding.

Veeraiah said that the moralistic songs sung by mendicants and sanyasis deal with human beings and their lives. If men who can work do not enjoy safety for their lives where is safety for the society? Industries should help man and not destroy him.

Six months passed.

The money Lakshman received on his voluntary retirement was spent in repaying loans taken to send his brother to Arab countries.

Lakshman and Vimala went back to their place. His children were now admitted into the government school where there was no dress restriction. Earlier they had gone to a private school wearing the school uniform with tie and shoes.

Lakshman was happy with village life. The village, the pleasant breeze, and everything else was good.

But there was no work.  He had no land to do cultivation.

For him who had worked as a labor hand, he had no rest. Now in the village he had nothing but rest.

He got accustomed to leading a restful life.

When his wife told him she had no firewood to cook food, he went into the forest with his axe. When he was cutting branches he remembered his boyhood days, the songs he sang, the games he played. When sweat poured down his face and body, Lakshman felt happy instead of feeling tired.

As he returned with the required firewood tied to his cycle, the forest guard stopped him and demanded money.

Lakshman wondered how the fellow suddenly appeared ignoring him when he was cutting wood for such a long time.

Lakshman did not know that finding fault was the only job of the guard.

The guard threatened Lakshman that if he did not pay him money, he would be booked in a case and jailed.

“I didn’t get money. I’ll return with money” said Lakshman, left the cycle there and went home. He did not go back to the forest.

Another day Vimala grumbled that he had no work. So, he collected a few fish-hooks and went to the tank. He had a good catch. When he was returning the fisher-folk arranged a panchayati. They had taken the tank on contract. They said the fish available in wells under the tank also belonged to them. Lakshman touched their feet, paid the penalty and got himself out of the situation.

“You lost your cycle. Now you have paid the penalty. Whatever you do results in a loss. You better sit at home and do nothing” reprimanded Vimala.

Lakshman was confused and disillusioned. This earth, the water, the tank, the forest, the tree, this wood and stone – nothing was his.

How beautiful nature was! How peaceful the village! ... but nothing belonged to him. He wondered whether the air he breathed was his at all … the trees, the gardens, the birds, the fish, the fields and tanks … none of these were his. How could he love this village? How could he live in the village?

He had thought that the job in which he worked was his. But he lost the job. There was no job security. What was left to him in his life? Was it only the old house?

Now there will be peace for the rest of his life. Lakshman stretched himself on the tank bund or under the fig tree.

“Father! mother calls you to come and eat food”, say his children going to him. He went, ate a few morsels of food and returned to lie down under a tree.

Yellaiah did not know what to do observing his son-in-law.

The lives of some … who grew before his very eyes … were getting destroyed … the society also was getting disintegrated.

The philosophical songs rendered by the bairagis have been giving strength to man to face calmly the destruction of the society.

Yellaiah realized now why their songs were being made and sung. Vimala could not realize the meaning. She shed tears unseen by her father and her husband.

There was no anger in her sorrow. She was crying calmly.

In that calmness there was disappointment. A despondency.

It was a state of contemplation – a meditation.

It was a phase which stated that tomorrow’s society would also face that stage.

Yellaiah, her father, was singing the philosophical song tunefully.

In place of the symbols of destruction, sadness was quietly, peacefully and calmly spreading itself all over the house.

Original in Telugu, published in Vaartha (Telugu Daily) February, 2003