Friday, July 17, 2009

Strangers In Familiar Land

‘The army had accused me of supplying food for the LTTE. They would have killed me if I had remained in Sri Lanka’ SELVAKUMAR Refugee from Vavuniya. P C Vinoj Kumar reports.

AS SAHAYA Malar’s feet touched Dhanushkodi in Tamil Nadu, her heart felt lighter. It didn’t matter that she had left her home behind and that she was now in a foreign land — a refugee. She and her family would soon be herded into a camp, where they would live the life of a refugee, like thousands of others who had come before them, and forced to survive on petty government doles. Yet, there was a sense of freedom. This was Tamil Nadu, where the people spoke her language. There was no way the Sri Lankan army could harm her husband here. Her family had been on the run for days, hiding from the army, moving from town to town, before they finally took a boat to India. “We may be refugees in this country, but our lives are secure here,” she says.
The 37-year-old woman from Vavuniya was among the 26 Sri Lankan Tamil refugees who landed in Dhanushkodi, a coastal village on the southern tip of Rameswaram in Tamil Nadu, on January 20 this year. Malar arrived in India with her husband, and six little daughters. Her story captures the plight of the Tamils, who live in the government-controlled areas of war-torn Sri Lanka, where the insurgent Liberation Tigers of Tamil Eelam (LTTE) is fighting for an independent Tamil nation. Malar’s family lived in Poovarasankulam village in the government- held Tamil majority district of Vavuniya in north Sri Lanka. Her husband, Sivalingam, was a farmer.
Abductions and disappearances of Tamils was common in Vavuniya. The LTTE often sneaked in through the jungles and launched attacks against the army, which would turn its ire on the local Tamils. “We lived in constant fear of the army. Tamil youth would be rounded up and taken to the army camp. They would be let off after questioning, but ‘unidentified persons’ would abduct them later. They would never be seen again,” says Malar.
One morning, the army came for her husband. Sivalingam was on his way to the field, when he was whisked away, by a man claiming to be from the LTTE. People gathered around when they heard Sivalingam screaming. The man asked him if he knew Sinhalese. Sivalingam lied. He said, “No.” As they reached a waiting army vehicle, Sivalingam understood the conversation in Sinhalese between his abductor and those inside the van. His captors decided that since many people had witnessed the abduction, Sivalingam should be let off now and taken at another time.
Days later, Sivalingam and his family were heading for Mannar district. Mannar, on the northwestern coast of Sri Lanka, was the preferred place to hire a boat to flee to India. Under normal conditions, a fishing vessel from Thalaimannar town in Mannar can reach Dhanushkodi in India in less than three hours. It would take few more minutes from other towns like Pesalai and Thalvapadu. Till last year, parts of Mannar were under LTTE control. Now, the whole district is under the control of the Sri Lankan Government.
According to refugees who recently arrived in India, the Lankan navy has increased its coastal surveillance in these parts. It has become difficult now to hire boats from Mannar to make the dangerous trip to India. The going rate for a ride from Mannar to Dhanuskodi is anywhere between (Sri Lankan) Rs 15,000 to Rs 20,000, they say. According to them, there are many more Tamils there, hoping to cross over to India at the opportune moment.
But Mannar fishermen are not too eager to undertake the trip. The reasons are obvious enough. “If the Lankan navy seizes the refugee-laden boat, its owner would be produced in court and sent to jail. His fishing permit will also be cancelled. The refugees would be handed over to the army at some camp in Sri Lanka,” says Johnson, a volunteer at the Mandapam camp office of the Organisation for Eelam Refugees Rehabilitation (OFERR), an NGO run by and for the refugees in Tamil Nadu. OFERR works closely with the estimated 80,000 refugees housed in about 100 camps across the state.
If the Indian navy intercepts the boat, the refugees are sent to a camp in Tamil Nadu. The boat owner would either be arrested for entering Indian waters without valid documents, or sent to a special camp in the state where Tamil militants in custody are kept.
So far this year about 130 refugees have arrived in India. The influx of refugees from Sri Lanka first began in the 1980s, when the ethnic conflict flared up on the island nation. There was a significant drop in the number of arrivals during the ceasefire period that began in 2002. But after the conflict escalated in 2006, the inflow of affected people resumed.
THOUGH THE refugees have come to India in different groups, and from different places in Sri Lanka, their stories have a common theme — their nightmarish tryst with the Lankan army. Most seem to have fled their homes, unable to bear the army’s pressure. Nearly all of them landed in Dhanushkodi or one of the tiny islands near Rameswaram, from where they were ferried to Arichalmunai — the narrow strip of land at the southeastern end of Dhanushkodi — by the Indian navy or local fishermen.
At Arichalmunai, on an uninhabited stretch of beach, some of them may have run into Muniyamma, or Thola, who often come there from their homes in Dhanushkodi, about 5km away, to collect shells, which they sell at Rameswaram for a living. “I have seen the refugees landing, the women hugging their infants, and the children crying in fear. It is a heartrending scene,” says Muniyamma.
From Arichalmunai, the refugees normally trek to Dhanushkodi on the sandy terrain, past the ruins of what was once a bustling town. Dhanushkodi turned into a ghost town after it was hit by a cyclone in 1964, when gigantic waves swept over it, flattening everything that stood in its way. The railway tracks, the station, and all those who lived in the town were washed away in the floods.
There are few surviviors: around 300 fishermens’ families who still live in Dhanushkodi, without power and basic amenities. The refugees receive their first food on Indian soil from them. “People here give them food and water. We also give them whatever little money each of us could,” says 16-yearold Vinoth.
From Dhanushkodi, the refugees are taken to the Indian Navy outpost at Moonram Chathiram by van for registration. After a thorough grilling at the Dhanushkodi police station by the state and Central intelligence agencies, they are taken to the Mandapam transit camp, about 20 km from Rameswaram.
At Mandapam, the refugees recount horrific tales of the atrocities of the Lankan army. Thirty-four-year-old Boominathan came to India last November with his four-year-old son. He was separated from his wife and living alone with his son in Pannaivettuvan village in Mannar district. In August last year, Lankan soldiers ransacked the grocery shop he owned and set it on fire, following an LTTE attack nearby. “Nearly Rs 2 lakh worth of goods were destroyed in the fire and I never recovered from the loss,” says Boominathan.
He reported the incident to the Lankan police, hoping he would receive justice. Instead, it brought the army to his doorsteps. He was taken to the army camp along with his son. Two weeks later, they released Boominathan on the condition that he would report to the police station every week.
“During my weekly visits, they used to beat me up, asking me to identify the LTTE men who attacked the army,” he says. As the torture continued, Boominathan says he had no option but to flee the country.
FOR SUSIANTHRA Rajan, and his wife Thirukalanidhi, from Chettikulam in Sri Lanka’s Vavuniya district, the signals from the army were too ominous to ignore. Early last year, the couple had sent two sons to India. But the army suspected they had joined the LTTE and continued to harass the family. Their third son, who worked as a carpenter, was frequently taken for questioning. “We took the hard decision to flee to India to protect my son’s life,” says Rajan. They were cultivating on a leased 33-acre land and expecting a few lakhs of rupees worth from the bumper harvest this season. The family though, decided saving their lives was more urgent and took the boat to India on January 19. They left behind all their assets including two ploughing machines, some poultry and a herd of goats. But they have no regrets. “We may have lost many things, but we can sleep peacefully here. Back home, a barking dog or the sound of a passing motorbike would keep us awake the whole night,” says Thirukalanidhi.
Chitra Devi and Chandra Chandrasekaran tell similar tales about the army. The men in both their families were routinely picked up by the army and beaten up. With three sons, aged 18, 21, and 22, Chandra’s family lived on the edge. Having heard several stories of Tamil youth disappearing without a trace, Chandra and her husband felt the only way to save their sons was to flee the country. “Army men would come in the night wearing masks and they would abduct young men. Many youth have disappeared without a trace from our area in the last one year. We left before our sons were next.” says Chandra.
Not all refugees come with all their family members. Take the case of Selvakumar. He came along with his two elder daughters. His wife and two other young children are still in Vavuniya. “I fled for my life. The army had accused me of supplying food to the LTTE. They would have killed me if I remained there.” Broken lives. Broken families. Broken dreams. In a few words, it sums up the lives of the refugees.
WRITER’S EMAILvinoj@tehelka.com
From Tehelka Magazine, Vol 6, Issue 7, Dated Feb 21, 2009

‘A Ceasefire Is Needed To End The Genocide By Sri Lanka’s Army’

Even as the Sri Lankan army claims it is close to wiping out the LTTE, the rebel group’s political head, B Nadesan, rejects the assertion that the Tigers are about to be made extinct. In an exclusive interview with PC VINOJ KUMAR, he reiterates the LTTE’S commitment to continue waging a bloody war to secure a separate homeland for the Tamils of Sri Lanka.

Many observers have already started talking about a post-LTTE, post- Prabakaran scenario in Sri Lanka.

Let me make one thing very clear here: There will not be a post-LTTE scenario. Look around the world, and you will see the desire for freedom and dignity in the hearts and minds of all Tamils. The LTTE is seen as the way to achieve the political aspirations of the Tamil people. We have achieved this status by spearheading Tamils’ quest for self-determination over the past 35 years without compromising our responsibilities as their freedom fighters.
On the military aspect, in a war, setbacks and advancements are unavoidable. What matters most is what we achieve in the end. I want to tell the international community and India that they should focus on fulfilling the political aspirations of the Tamil people by recognising their struggle for self-determination and a homeland, instead of wasting time, effort and lives while waiting for a post-LTTE scenario, which is never going to come.

What is your reaction to reports that Prabakaran’s son, Charles Antony, has been injured in the fighting?
This is false propaganda from the Sri Lankan government. He is not injured.

Where is Prabakaran? Is he in the battle zone or in a safe place?
He is here with our people, leading our freedom struggle as our national leader, and guiding the war as our Commanderin- Chief.

What are the chances he will flee the country?
Zero percent.

What is Prabakaran’s reaction to reports that the Sri Lankan army is trying to capture him alive?
He laughs [at such reports].

How does Prabakaran react to the Sri Lankan government’s charge that he is a coward who does not lead from the front?
Again, he laughs. Let me point out that this is being said by a government that is anticipating the capitulation of the Tamil people because of the embargo on food, medicine and essentials that they have enforced against Tamil areas over the past two-and-a-half decades. They still continue to use food as weapon.

Does Prabakaran still believe he can achieve Eelam?
If he didn’t, he would have given up long ago.

Are Indian soldiers on the battleground fighting the LTTE along side the Sri Lankan army?
I can say that a very high level of military cooperation exists between the Sri Lankan and Indian governments.

What is your response to allegations that the LTTE is using civilians as human shields?
The Tamil people are aware of the repeated aggression against them by the Sri Lankan state under various guises. Calling the people here “trapped” or “human shield” is inappropriate, as they do not want to go into the hands of the aggressor state. Sri Lanka should give a safe passage to independent humanitarian officials to come here and find out the will of the people.

You have repeatedly announced that you are ready for a ceasefire. Is this a sign of weakness?
We insist on a ceasefire because Sri Lanka keeps accelerating its genocidal war [against the Tamils]. A ceasefire is needed to address the humanitarian crisis and for people to get essential relief supplies right where they live.

What is your appeal to the international community?
Innocent children, mothers and elders are being massacred by the Sri Lankan armed forces everyday. Therefore, there is an urgent need to push the Sri Lankan government towards a ceasefire. We urge the international community not to go along with Sri Lanka’s uprooting of Tamils, being carried out in the guise of “fighting terrorism”. We appeal to the international community to halt this war immediately and facilitate a negotiation for a permanent political settlement based on the Tamils’ right to self-determination.
From Tehelka Magazine, Vol 6, Issue 15, Dated Apr 18, 2009

On The Last Spoor Of The Tiger

Betrayed by defectors from within and cornered by mortal foes from without, PC VINOJ KUMAR examines how Sri Lanka won the war. And why the LTTE lost it

SRI LANKAN President Mahinda Rajapaksa should consider writing a book on how to win wars. The Rajapaksa Doctrine is quite simple. There are three main rules. The First (and most important) Rule: Conduct the War Without Witnesses. Ensure that the theatre of war is out of bounds for the media, international monitors and aid agencies. The Second Rule: Give the Army a Free Hand. Do not constrain them with rules and international conventions. The Third Rule: (In the absence of witnesses), Don’t Worry About Human Rights Violations.
This strategy has paid rich dividends in Sri Lanka’s war against the LTTE, the rebel group fighting for Eelam, a separate nation for the Tamils of Sri Lanka. When Rajapaksa became President in November 2005, the LTTE controlled large swathes of territory in the northern districts of Mullaithivu, Killinochchi, and parts of Mannar. The LTTE held an area of about 15,000 sq km and ran a parallel government, complete with military, a judiciary, police and civil administration.
However, the LTTE’S statelet began to shatter as Rajapaksa started his military campaign around August 2006. He first evicted the LTTE from the small pockets it controlled in the Eastern Province. In January 2008, he called off the six-year-old ceasefire and initiated open war against the LTTE. Relentless attacks devastated the rebels, who began to retreat from town after town. The LTTE is now surrounded in an 8 sq km strip of coastal land in Mullaithivu and government troops are pushing forward to conquer the last patch of land from the rebels. Despite appeals from the international community, which has expressed concerns about the safety of the thousands of civilians trapped in the conflict zone, Sri Lanka has refused to halt operations. The army says that top rebel leaders, including LTTE supremo Velupillai Prabakaran, are holed up in this area.
“We will not give them any breathing space,” military spokesperson Brigadier Udaya Nanayakkara told TEHELKA, adding, “The LTTE has used ceasefires before to regroup. This time, we denied them that opportunity.” Another strategy was to attack the LTTE on multiple fronts, stretching rebel resources to breaking point. Though LTTE political head B Nadesan claims that 20,000 Lankan soldiers have been killed in the last two years, Colombo (which does not publish casualty figures) has had sufficient reserves to withstand troop losses. “We raised new battalions and enlisted 80,000 soldiers in two years,” says Nanayakkara. The army also created small platoons of four to eight soldiers which would infiltrate and destroy LTTE positions.
In January, the LTTE lost its administrative capital, Kilinochchi. It then lost the strategic Elephant Pass and Mullaithivu. As the LTTE fell back, it took the people with them. “This was a poor strategy. The people became a burden for the LTTE, since it had to look after their needs,” says Col R Hariharan, a former Indian Military Intelligence official who has served in Sri Lanka. Col Hariharan feels that the LTTE should have adopted guerrilla tactics to counter the army, instead of fighting a conventional war. Several experts agree. Lieut Gen (retd) AS Kalkat, a former Indian Army commander who led IPKF operations in the 1980s, wrote in The Hindu, “Prabakaran thought that he had achieved Eelam in the North Eastern Province and the LTTE usurped the trappings of a sovereign state. He established the state ‘capital’ at Killinochchi, created ‘government departments’ and pretended that his armed cadres were a regular army, navy and air force. Then, either due to arrogance or overconfidence, Prabakaran made the blunder of taking on a regular army and tried to fight like one, with disastrous consequences. The LTTE was fighting outside its core competence.”
As the war continued to claim civilian lives, the world watched as the Lankan military juggernaut rolled into the Tiger heartland. According to the UN, over 6,000 civilians have been killed in the last three months. Sri Lanka used its fullest might, pressing its air force and artillery against the Tigers. The United Nations, the US, the UK and some other countries expressed their concern at civilian casualties, but failed to persuade the government to stop its operations. In February, a minor diplomatic row broke out between Sri Lanka and Britain after Britain sent an envoy to begin a peace process in the island nation. Rajapaksa rebuffed the emissary, a former cabinet colleague of the British Prime Minister and described the move as “an intrusion into Sri Lanka’s internal affairs.”
FOR THE LTTE, the post-9/11 scenario was detrimental,” says Hariharan. “Rajapaksa exploited the situation. He enlisted the support of the major world powers and presented his fight against the LTTE as part of the ‘Global War on Terror’. That the LTTE had been designated a terrorist outfit in nearly forty countries helped his cause.”
The LTTE has alleged that the army was using banned weapons such as phosphorus bombs and napalm against civilians. It has sent photographs of apparently charred bodies to the media, claiming that they were victims of phosphorus bombs. No nation reacted. The Sri Lankan spokesperson for national security and defence, Minister Kehiliya Rambukwella denied the charges and told TEHELKA, “We have never used any banned weapons.” Rambukwella said that the LTTE could have burnt some bodies in order to accuse the army of using phosphorous bombs.
With no independent press coverage, there is no way of verifying the truth. Journalists who dare to report inconvenient details of the war are often detained by Sri Lanka under false charges. UK reporter Jeremy Page of The Times was denied a press visa for many months. He entered Sri Lanka on a tourist visa but was identified at the airport and deported. Tamil journalist Vithyatharan, who has a reputation for exposing army excesses, was detained for nearly two months on charges of having links with the LTTE. In January, senior journalist and vocal critic of the government Lasantha Wickramatunga wrote an editorial titled ‘And Then, They Came for Me’ in which he said, “When finally I am killed, it will be the government that kills me.” In February, unknown assailants assassinated him.
Says Tamil MP MK Sivajilingam, “If the government has nothing to hide, why did it prevent international monitors or aid agencies from entering the war zone? The LTTE was willing to let independent observers into its area, but the government refused.” Though the Tamil diaspora has organised protests against the ‘genocidal war,’ their cries for global intervention have been fruitless.
Sri Lanka has received military support from China, Pakistan, and India. India, which had a score to settle with the LTTE for its involvement in the assassination of former Prime Minister Rajiv Gandhi, provided crucial intelligence inputs, radars and weapons. It is also believed that the Sri Lankan Navy was able to destroy seven LTTE ships due to Indian intelligence inputs. The Indian Navy and the Coast Guard have also sealed the entire Indian coast to block LTTE supply routes from Tamil Nadu.
THE LTTE’S naval fleet and light aircraft have raised security concerns in India. Major General AK Mehta, who served in the IPKF operations in Sri Lanka, notes in an article in The Deccan Chronicle, “The LTTE’S Czech-origin Zlin-143 trainer aircraft which struck Colombo in 2007 raised fears in Delhi of the safety of nuclear power plants and oil refineries in South India. Though the LTTE had declared that it would not attack India or any Indian assets, on a one-way mission from Mullaithivu, a Zlin-143 could have reached Bengaluru.” Adds Hariharan, “What if the LTTE had bombed the Chennai homes of its staunch opponents such as Cho Ramasamy?”
If external actors were arrayed against the LTTE, the revolt of Vinayagamoorthy Muralitharan, alias Karuna, the LTTE’S former Eastern commander, was an internal catastrophe. Karuna, who has defected to the Lankans and has been made a Minister, provided vital intelligence about LTTE battle tactics during army operations in the Wanni, the Sri Lankan heartland. Colombo journalist Kusal Perara says that with the loss of Karuna, the LTTE lost its major recruitment base. “Most of the fighting LTTE cadres came from the East and not from the North,” he says.
Meanwhile, Rajapaksa is already talking about how he has set an example for all nations in handling the war on terror. In his Independence Day message in February, he stated: “As we pay this well deserved tribute to our heroic forces, we can be satisfied that many who were once critical of our operations to eradicate terror from our land are now citing Sri Lanka and the success of our troops as an example of how terrorism should be defeated.” Rajapaksa conducted the war with the help of two trusted lieutenants, his brother and Defence Secretary Gotabhaya Rajapaksa and Army Chief Sarath Fonseka. They complement the President in their thinking. Gotabhaya is already talking about lessons learnt from the war. “The lesson I have learned is that peace talks will never go anywhere… Tell me a place where this has worked,” he told The Christian Science Monitor recently.
But many Sri Lankans do not think the Tamil question has been resolved or will be resolved even if Prabakaran is eliminated. Rohana Gamage, a former navy officer turned politician, insists that the LTTE will re-emerge in another form. “There can be no military solution to the Tamil conflict,” he says. Rohana belongs to the opposition United National Party and is a member of the North Central Provincial Council. Adds Tasha Manoranjan, a US-based Tamil, “Rajapaksa's inhumane military offensive will only breed further enmity between the Tamils and Sinhalas.” The unity and integrity of Sri Lanka continues to hang in the balance.
WRITER’S EMAIL vinoj@tehelka.com
From Tehelka Magazine, Vol 6, Issue 18, Dated May 09, 2009

Tuesday, July 14, 2009

Bringing Out The Dead

Only dalits wield the scalpel in Tamil Nadu’s mortuaries. Successive generations work in sordid conditions and see no way out, finds PC VINOJ KUMAR

FIFTY-THREE-YEAR-OLD U Vijayan has had several close brushes with death, in a way. Working as a mortuary assistant in the Government General Hospital (GGH) in Madurai, he dissects an average of five to ten bodies daily. He is one among the scores of dalits who do post-mortems at government hospital mortuaries in Tamil Nadu. With over two and half decades of service in the mortuary, and over a thousand dissections under his belt, he now does his work with clockwork precision. Poring over the post-mortem table, it takes him just about two hours to remove the vital organs from the body. Few doctors are able to match that.
In mortuaries across the state, bodies are dissected by workers like Vijayan — doctors just examine the organs and give the post-mortem report. Barring a few, most mortuaries are in an awful state, with not a hint of modernisation. Workers still use hammers and chisels to break open skulls. Autopsy rooms, where bodies are dissected, lack proper ventilation, are poorly maintained, and a foul smell invariably hangs in the air. Posing as activists in some instances, TEHELKA interacted with the dalit mortuary workers to elicit information about their appalling work conditions. What emerged was a sordid tale of exploitation of dalit workers.
Across Tamil Nadu, mortuary work seems to be set aside exclusively for dalits. The only members in post-mortem rooms from other castes, are doctors. Due to an acute shortage of mortuary staff, hospitals engage casual workers to do autopsies and to remove unclaimed bodies, in addition to using the services of the in-house sanitary workers. Casual workers too are mostly relatives of dalits working in the hospitals. Their only source of income is the occasional ‘tip’ from relatives of the deceased who come to collect the bodies after post-mortem. Muniyamma, one such worker at the Tindivanam government hospital, earns around Rs 800 per month.
Those who work at hospitals attached to medical colleges in urban centres earn substantially higher incomes. For instance, the workers at the Chennai GGH, attached to the Madras Medical College (MMC), earn up to around Rs 8,000 per month.
Among permanent hospital workers, few non-dalits volunteer for mortuary duty. “Only dalits are assigned work in mortuaries. Others refuse to work there. For them, it is taboo to even touch dead bodies,” says Viduthalai Veeran, a dalit activist. Veeran is a senior leader of Adhi Thamizhar Peravai, an outfit that works among Arunthathiyars, a dalit sub-sect in Tamil Nadu.
Many Arunthathiyars are employed as sweepers and scavengers in municipal corporations and other local bodies. They also work in government hospitals doing the same work. Many take up the work after futile hunts for ‘respectable’ jobs. S Babu, an Arunthathiyar, had registered with the state employment exchange in 1981. He had studied up to Class VIII. For nearly five years, he didn’t get a single interview call. In 1986, he got calls for nearly 30 interviews for posts of security guards in various state government departments. But he was selected for none, though his father —who died when he was just four — was an ex-army man. Finally, in 1987, Babu was appointed as a servant at the Manaparai General Hospital. It was a grade higher than the post of sanitary worker — a job his mother was doing at the Trichy General Hospital. But his joy of landing a respectable job was short-lived. For, three years later, he was fired and appointed as sanitary worker at the same hospital where his mother worked. “I refused to join duty, protesting against my demotion. But the hospital officials promised I would soon be elevated to my old position,” says Babu. It didn’t turn out that way, though.
The son of a sanitary worker ended up doing the same job as his mother in the same hospital for nearly two decades. From 1991 to 2008, he remained in that post, despite his constant struggle for justice. Along with other sanitary workers — who were all dalits — his job included regular postings at the mortuary. “Sanitary workers are posted periodically at the mortuary for three months on a rotation basis,” says Babu, who finally got his promotion in 2008. Most government hospitals adopt this system of apportioning mortuary work among dalit sanitary workers.
IN THE Madurai GGH, about 93 sweepers were recruited in 2006, including non-dalits. In fact, of the 47 male workers, only 27 were dalits. Usually, sweepers are posted in the mortuary on a rotation basis. However, none of the nondalits opt for mortuary duty. Only the dalits take turns. “There is no compulsion. We opt for the work voluntarily,” says Perumal, one of the dalit sweepers.
Bilawady, another dalit worker, says they have no qualms about non-dalits not doing mortuary work. “It is only people like us who have done such work traditionally,” he says. Both Bilawady’s parents had been sweepers. His father worked in the Madurai Corporation and his mother at the Madurai GGH. There are many like Bilawady. At the Chennai GGH, 42-year-old Thirupal, an Adi Andhra — a dalit sub sect in Andhra Pradesh — got the job of his mother, who had worked as a sanitary worker in the same hospital. Thirupal works at the mortuary, where he stitches up bodies after post-mortems. Several mortuary workers tell similar stories — of being natural choices for mortifying, inhuman work. But what is common in their attitude towards the work is a deep-set fatalism. It’s as if they see no way out of the cycle of exploitation.
HOWEVER, IN the overall scheme of things, the state’s role too can’t be condoned. Many dalit workers told TEHELKA that they ended up in the hospitals as sanitary workers or mortuary attendants because they were never offered any other job. Vijayan, the mortuary assistant at the Madurai GGH, for instance, had registered with the state employment exchange hoping to land a government job. What he never fathomed was that he would be sleeping with corpses during his night shifts. Vijayan had attended interviews for the posts of watchman in different government departments, but with no luck. But when he attended the interview for the mortuary assistant job, he was selected. Since his time there from 1983, he says he is yet to come across a non-dalit worker volunteering for mortuary work.
Many like Vijayan are aware that they are working in unhygienic conditions and risk contracting infectious diseases. Yet, they do not take even the most basic precautionary measures — some don’t even wear hand gloves while dissecting the bodies, leave alone masks, gum boots or aprons, though the hospitals are ready to provide them. Many workers have died at an early age — in their forties or fifties — while in service. At the Chennai GGH, three dalit mortuary workers have died in the last decade, allegedly of tuberculosis.
When told about the plight of the workers, Dr GR Ravindranath of the Doctors Association for Social Equality urged the government to take urgent measures to alleviate the socio-economic conditions of the dalit workers. “The government has to ensure that at least the children of these workers have a better life. They should be provided with free housing and their children with free education,” he says.
The doctors too have their share of woes. Their demands to upgrade facilities in the mortuary have fallen on deaf ears. “We are treated in a stepmotherly fashion,” says Dr R Selva Kumar, additional professor of forensic medicine at MMC. He says sufficient funds are not allotted to improve and upgrade facilities at the mortuary. For instance, workers at the mortuary in Chennai GGH use outdated dissection tools. They still use a manual saw to open the skull, while an electrical stryker-saw available in the market — costing about Rs 1 lakh — can do the job quicker. Dr G Natarajan at the Madurai GGH expressed similar sentiments
THERE IS also a dearth of qualified doctors to do post-mortems in the state. There are only about 25 forensic medicine specialists in the 15 government medical colleges. In over a hundred taluk and district hospitals, non-qualified medical personnel — doctors specialising in other branches — are handling post-mortems. Each year, only three seats are available for postgraduate forensic medicine in Tamil Nadu. “The number of seats has to be increased so that more qualified personnel can be posted in the hospitals,” says Dr Srinivasa Ragavan, professor of forensic medicine. In 2008, the Madras High Court had passed an order to impart post-mortem training to all government doctors dealing with medico-legal work. But there has been no follow-up on this order, say doctors.
Dalit workers and doctors have been crying themselves hoarse for a revamp of mortuaries in the state. It would be a move that would not only respect the departed, but also value the role of the living working among the dead.
WRITER’S EMAIL vinoj@tehelka.com
From Tehelka Magazine, Vol 6, Issue 26, Dated July 04, 2009

Numbness Of Death

Muniyamma has dissected over a thousand bodies. She speaks to PC VINOJ KUMAR
Uncomfortably numb Muniyamma has been a mortuary worker for 15 years
MUNIYAMMA STAYS in the small town of Tindivanam, 120 km south of Chennai. This 37-year-old dalit has been working for over a decade at the mortuary in the Tindivanam Government Hospital. She is a physical wreck, addicted to liquor and with little to look forward to. Her husband, a rickshaw puller, died eight years ago, and since then her family has lived off the meagre wages her work at the mortuary provides. Both her children — daughter Valli, 18, and son Manimaran, 14 — have had to discontinue their studies.
“I have cut open over a thousand bodies till date. I can dissect a body in 30 minutes flat,” says Muniyamma. Nearly 15 years ago, it was a neighbour who worked as a sweeper in the Tindivanam hospital, who had suggested that Muniyamma look for a job in the hospital. Muniyamma started frequenting the hospital with the neighbour, doing odd jobs for a while. Soon, her husband suggested that she find some work at the hospital’s mortuary, where a relative had worked earlier.
“My cousin who used to work in the mortuary had died. Natarajan, the mortuary attender, offered to take me in his place. Initially, I used to just wrap up the body in a white cloth after the post-mortem was over. Gradually, I started doing more and more work at the mortuary,” she says. When she started doing dissections, she took to drinking liquor.
“One gets used to alcohol in this job,” laughs Muniyamma, adding that she had skipped her early morning quota of local arrack to be ready for the interview. “We handle bodies that are totally decomposed. We dissect those bodies whose skin peels off when touched. The stench that emanates from such bodies is so overwhelming that it’s difficult to go near them without taking a few pegs.”
For years, Muniyamma has been doing the whole autopsy herself — from knocking off the skull cap using a hammer and chisel, sewing up the body after the post-mortem, and wrapping it up in a white cloth, in a ready-to-bedelivered condition.
What’s more distressing is that for the last three years, she has been taking her 14-year-old son, Manimaran, to the mortuary with her. “He works faster than me. He can complete the dissection in just 15 minutes,” she says with pride.
Each morning, the mother-son duo wake up hoping that some bodies have arrived in the mortuary. Muniyamma is paid about Rs 50 for every dissection she does and on an average, earns about Rs 800 per month. It is her daughter, Valli, who is the source of assured income for the family. She has found a job at a nearby leather shoe company. She earns around Rs 1,500 per month. After serving in a government hospital as a casual worker for all these years, Muniyamma has no job security. Her name is not on hospital records. Only now has she begun to ask: “Will I ever get another job?”
A Tindivanam-based NGO, Social Awareness Society for Youth (SASY), a dalit human rights organisation, has been counselling her to look for a change. “We want to rescue and rehabilitate her,” says VA Ramesh Nathan, director of SASY. Usually it is the state that comes to the rescue of the victim, but in this case, in bitter irony, Muniyamma must be rescued from the grip of a negligent state. It is time the Tamil Nadu health ministry took notice.
From Tehelka Magazine, Vol 6, Issue 26, Dated July 04, 2009