“What are you chanting and smiling about?”
“Just repeating what a manager surmised today to press and police.”
“Maybe it’s the last three weeks. A monsoon of rebellion.”
“And today had an argument with a friend who denounced co-workers for being unable to do anything together.”
“What an odd claim! These are thoughts that cut into thinking itself! I do wonder if they’re mere repetitions of what power would like us to think.”
“Was telling him, just look at the rebellion of 300 workers in Noida. It reminds of the shivers and radiance the Maruti rebellion brought everywhere. Ministers have come running, such is the fear.”
“So funny, the assertion of Manu’s Laws of Punishment to give courage to crouching house owners. Law, the constitution, legal process, and investigation were all pushed aside to say — No bails will be allowed.”
“Ha ha! These are not forts, but paper-mâché acropolises. It took five thousand years to masquerade the Laws of Punishment as justice, and one strong push to melt away the disguise.”
“Agreed, but a correction. This is not a lone shake. This shake is one in a long series. Unremitting.”
“Yes. It’s important that when we see one massive shake, we not think only of that specific force. Sometimes we do see one moment—a fluctuation in a tremor—up close, and feel its scale. But vibrations of this tremor move and dance in the companionship of vibrations of many such tremors.”
“In companionship of tremors. Fantastic. Last week about 800 workers in an auto-parts company, learning from construction workers in Saudi Arabia, did not appear for work. They stayed home. Rested. Made love. Wrote poetry. The next day as well. The third day, same thing. Fourth day, ditto. Management baffled. Armed police standing outside factory gates, confused.”
“Let me extend this song line. By now you would have seen, on WhatsApp, a calm and proud image of a few thousand workers in yellow uniform and helmets?”
“Yes! That was a photo of workers resting after having ransacked the management office.”
“Let me extend the song line, taking it again through Noida. This time it’s a mobile phone factory. More than 15,000 workers. Production vacillates sharply. They hire you, make you work, then let you go. Snip snip. So that this habit of the management does not become habitual and embedded, a rebellion sang itself in. Machinery on one floor of the factory was smashed. The tremor is massive.”
“I’m running late, so listen to my song. It’s Okhla. A garment factory. A drone of urgent shipment, drumbeats of deadlines. And then, another tune emerges. At 6, all machines shut down and everyone sat around them. They looked quietly at one another. They smiled. A tranquility descends. The chairman and MD break into a sweat. What do they say? New grade will be applied, and all arrears will be paid. With immediate effect.”
“Certainty, two days. Uncertainty, three days.”
“Keep the recent three weeks in mind and think of the last 7 years.”
“You suggest another reality around us, of rebellious expressions. And to string these into more and more song lines.”
“It’s Gurgaon, and groups of about 100 workers who work in houses assemble at the gates of housing societies. The resident association calls the police. The constables stand up, smiling.”
“Certainty, two days. Uncertainty, three days.”
Faridabad Majdoor Samachar (Faridabad Workers’ News)
Issue # 350
August 2017
Page 1: In Companionship, Fantastic.
Page 2: Many Thoughts Amidst Conversations with Many
Page 3: Steps in Togetherness; Commoning; Accidents
Page 4: Noida to Greater Noida: Waves of Rebellions
FMS September 2017 by baatein1 on Scribd
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