75. to obtain a few drops of drinking water 

It was a Sunday. The year was 1998. 

Noted economist Dr. Raja J Chelliah, speaking at a three-day symposium on Foreign Media, Indian Democracy, Multinational, and Indian Industry, said that ‘statistical indicators had shown that the percentage of those living below the poverty line had dropped to 36 percent in 1993-94 from 52 percent in 1950-51.’

A rough estimate was that, at this pace, the line will disappear by the year 2095.

Picture yourself in 2025 and observe your surroundings; witnessing poverty firsthand requires little effort. No economist's certification is needed.

Let's examine this declining trend more closely and visit Sunderkhed in Buldhana District, Maharashtra.  

The year was the same, 1998. 

The date was October 5th.

Devidas Lahane, aged 65 and a retired Class IV employee since 1993, wrote a letter to the Chief Minister on September 1, 1998. 

He aimed to secure drinking water for around 3,000 slum residents of Sunderkhed. Over ten years, he made numerous visits to government offices to pursue this cause. 

Every workday, he pedaled a squeaky old bicycle with a bag overflowing with copies of memoranda addressed to various government officials.

Let us read the letter he wrote to immolate himself on October 5—copies of this letter he sent to the collector and the Superintendent of Police.

Remaining optimistic until the very end, Lahane believed that the authorities would listen. 

On October 5th, before he got on his bicycle carrying a kerosene can and a matchbox, he comforted his tearful wife by saying, 'You should not worry… the law wants people to live. I know they will not allow me to self-immolate.’

But the crusader was mistaken. 

Lahane had become a big joke among the officials. He never asked for any monetary contribution from villagers, and they never actively supported his mission.

At the scheduled time on October 5th, 1998, Lahane pedaled his bicycle up to the gate of the Buldhana Zilla Parishad, poured kerosene over his frail frame, lit a match, and was engulfed in flames.

The usual Peekdaan, the Indian press, which is always quick to report word-for-word whenever even a minor potty-mouthed political leader speaks, remained silent. 

They only carried a small news item on page 7, and that was well after the week had passed.     

October 5, the day Lahane died, was a Monday.

The country has definitely advanced rapidly over the past decade, trying to make up for the 60 years lost.

But the mainstream media is stuck there, with no sense of NEWS, leaving the field open for social media to blow up news with distorted facts.

It’s complicated to get the real news ‘to the point news’ without masala and bhashan from semi-literate news anchors.

(And for those who have no idea what a Peekdaan is, it is a spittoon, a receptacle made explicitly for spitting into, mainly used by people who use chewing tobacco or other substances.)