Devdungri is a small hamlet nestled in a remote corner of Rajasthan. Electricity and running water are not the benefits it affords. Little did I know that fate would direct me to this distant village and my city bred consciousness receive a rude jolt. I was a cynical 23 year old still struggling with Lacan and Brecht when a letter reached me at the North Eastern Student’s House for Women at Delhi University. This was to congratulate me for being accepted for the Spic Macay Gurukul Program where you got to spend a whole two months with a mentor of your choice.
The RTI activist Aruna Roy had always intrigued me. A literature student like me, she had worked for seven years as an IAS officer before giving it all up to stay back in Rajasthan and start the MKSS (the Mazdoor Kisan Shakti Sangathan). The RTI revolution she had started with Nikhil Ray had made it possible for countless citizens like me to demand transparency in public life. My choice was made and my bags were packed.A dusty sunset greeted me on arrival and the small, thatched house welcomed me. A city girl to the core, I had not anticipated the Magsaysay Award winner to live so humbly. I had known I would be learning a lot but it turned out to be much more than that. It turned out to be an experience that shook me to the core and I started questioning things I had taken for granted all along. At the crack of dawn, we were all up, fetching water from the well that smelled of pomegranate leaves. Cooking was a communal affair; everyone was expected to lend a hand. Equality is something we all value, but seldom have I seen it to be so visible everywhere. Nikhil would often carry earthen pots on his head accompanying the women of the village. Amusing at first, it soon opened my eyes to the subtle ways we emphasize gender. My deep-rooted cynicism was soon replaced by hope. For when I saw the fair priced shops being operated by the MKSS or the village Panchayat elections being held without the usual compromises, it led me to believe that change was indeed possible and it was taking place in front of my eyes. Instead of the ‘chalta hain’ attitude we all so find comfort in, this was a refreshing change. Today when I choose not to bribe the passport officer or to file an RTI for a delayed pension grant, I know I have learned an invaluable lesson.
