The protesting farmers at Delhi’s borders are fed with love and generosity
The Hindu“Modi murdabad,” shouts a six-foot farmer and his companion, as they lift a bunch of methi each, shouting in protest, responding to the camera. Here, as life is lived out in trailers where upto eight people share space for the night, aggressive words like murdabad mix with gentler ones like seva, guru ki kripa, langar, bade dil wale. At the receiving end “In the beginning nothing had been decided about the food, so we brought our own: atta, dal, ghee,” says Bikramjeet, a 25-year-old farmer from Tarn Taran in Punjab, who helps his father on their fields of grain and cattle feed. The disposable glasses may get over, but the lassi won’t.” Two men from Patiala who were coming to join the protest drove down through the night, their car loaded with boxes of water, when they heard the people at the Singhu border needed it. “We brought only water, but people said take this too,” says Jaspal Singh, of the mathri and biscuits he has on offer.