After a long jeep ride, I arrived at the salt pans. They looked breathtakingly beautiful until I got to know that I had to step in and work as a laborer for some hours. Kotri village, due to its close proximity to the Sambhar Salt Lake has only saline water. Therefore, the main source of occupation is to separate salt from water. The brackish water is put in the pans and left to heat up naturally. At 25 degrees, salt crystals begin to take form. That’s when the laborers step in. Meaning, that’s when I had to step in.
The water tickled my feet. Then it started to bite. I’m no stranger to spontaneous conversation but I hardly show my care and concern. And I was in the pan with 22 other people I had gotten to know just a day ago. The bottom layer of salt was hard across my well sun-screened feet. The equipment was rusted and many of these fellow strangers I had begun to care about got blisters on their hands or feet.
Standing in the hot water with the salt cutting into my skin, I was more concerned about the other 22. That was a new feeling. Something I can’t explain. Their presence made me feel more at home in a completely alien village.
The wage to clear a salt mound above is only Rs 20. The poorly designed boots for protecting the feet are too heavy so the laborers do not wear them and suffer from deep cuts and skin distortion.
Feeling as if I was one of them, it was a deep learning about the harshness in their life. Yet they were the happiest bunch I have ever met, enjoying the little joys of life. I may be more educated but they surely know how to live life better.
To the greatest teachers I met, every drop of your sweat is worth so much more than what you get. You’ve broken some preconceived notions I had brought with myself. As I pack my bags soon, only to return to the brutal world of competition, know that its you I’m grateful to for making me so much more tolerant.
