A few days ago, one of the women from our village team, Suman Mavshi, asked if she could call the rest of our team to help her with rice plantation in her field. She told me that she was not getting labourers and had to get the work done at the right time of rains. We asked our group of women and they readily agreed to go. Abhishek and I also love to participate in such activities, and we went as well. We all had a lovely time—enjoying the rains, chit-chatting, pulling each other's legs, singing folk songs, all while getting the work done perfectly!
The work which would have taken a whole day, was done in about 3 hours!
So work got done for Suman Mavshi, and our day was well spent!
However, since then, many thoughts have been running through my mind!
Suman Mavshi and her husband have one son and two daughters. All three are married and have moved out of the village; the son for his job and the daughters after their marriage. Her son comes often to the village, with his wife and two young kids, and so do her daughters with their families. Most years, her son makes time to help his ageing parents in this season of rice cultivation. Rice is a staple food for people from this area, and many families depend on their own farm-grown rice throughout the year. Most of it is consumed by the family and little is sold, if at all!
This year, he couldn't make it for some work-related reasons. And even if he had come, they still would have needed labourers as theirs is now a small family.
When we all were planting rice, some other families were at it too, working together, with older children helping out as well!
That made me first-hand see and understand why bigger families were needed in farming households in our country. I guess it was the same reason for other trades too—be it artisanal work, animal husbandry, trading and so on. Their own family was their workforce! They all grew food together, took care of the livestock, did farm and household work together, celebrated festivals together. Population was our strength and contributed directly to the economy, even if much of that contribution did not reflect in the modern concept of GDP. Population wasn't seen as a burden; it was an asset.
As families grew, land size reduced as it was split while being handed over from one generation to the next. Even then, they came together and worked in each other's farms and took turns helping one another—not just in farm work, but also during weddings and other celebrations. I worked in your farm, you worked in mine. You helped in my family wedding, I did the same for your family wedding. A barter of labour—such a beautiful concept. We have all heard of the barter system where products were exchanged. But here, labour was exchanged too!
Our culture was so beautiful—not just in our country, but in many parts of the world. It was Humankind!
However, through Suman Mavshi's situation, and many others like hers, I realised that the story has changed. Families have not only split their land over generations, but often become geographically separated too. Many have moved to towns and cities in search of education, jobs and better opportunities. While these opportunities are important, distance makes it harder for families to support one another in the way they once did. Their immediate responsibilities naturally take priority, and the extended family often receives less time and attention than before.
And hence, labourers started becoming a necessity if work has to get done. Just as industries demand labour for mass production, farming and other crafts and trades demand labour too, however without the same kind of monetary returns.
I'm not saying industrialisation was bad. However, for a country like ours, I believe many solutions lie in decentralised and sustainable development, such as what we do at reCharkha. Where families can find work within the village itself, reducing the need for migration, while still being able to support farming, household responsibilities and community life.
With this, I've decided that as a reCharkha family, from next year onwards, we will take turns helping in each other's farms whenever needed. It may be a small step, but perhaps it is one way of reviving a culture of mutual support—not just of craft, but of humanity itself!