I was born and brought up in Bhilai, a quaint little industrial town of Chhattisgarh, where people from different parts of the country live together, speak different languages. It was a peaceful and loving community. 

At Sampark, my work required me to travel to every nook and corner of the state, which gave me an opportunity to see for myself the darker and sadder aspect of people’s lives in the neighbouring districts in the state. My trip to the Naxal-affected towns—Sukma, Bijapur, Bastar, and Narayanpur was quite an eye-opener. The two-hour drive from Jagdalpur to Sukma had me sweating- the undulating road, which passed through dense forests, was almost deserted. We saw the remains of burnt vehicles on the way. Our driver, a local, told me that those vehicles were burnt to ashes by the Naxalites. 

We drove past CRPF camps and had to stop at many checkpoints. But at two points our car was stopped by civilians—the driver told us they were Naxalites, who keep a close eye on every vehicle that enters their territory. Throughout our journey, the driver narrated heart-wrenching stories of trauma and tragedies one could encounter on this route. My heart was literally pounding. I could hear every heartbeat. 

We drove past CRPF camps and had to stop at many checkpoints. But at two points our car was stopped by civilians—the driver told us they were Naxalites, who keep a close eye on every vehicle that enters their territory. Throughout our journey, the driver narrated heart-wrenching stories of trauma and tragedies one could encounter on this route. My heart was literally pounding. I could hear every heartbeat. 

Things normalised for us only when we reached our destination, a small school at a village’s periphery. It was a thatched roof structure with dark schoolrooms, but the teacher and children welcomed me with bright smiles. It immediately lifted our spirits. 

The moment they came to know that I was from Sampark, the foundation that gave them ‘a blue Math Kit’, they got excited. The children shared with me how much they liked the kit with all its colourful toy-like learning tools. The teacher thanked me for the innovations that have helped him teach in a fun way.

I felt that the children in these remote and rural schools had big ambitions, and were trying hard to break free from the clutches of poverty and ignorance, to fulfil them. Gori, 10, rushed into the classroom when I was about to leave. I asked her the reason for her late coming and she shyly said that she usually came after finishing daily chores at home as her parents leave for work early in the morning.

She was determined to study, despite all the adversities. Their positivity stayed with us long after we left the school. 

(The writer is State Operations Manager- Chhattisargh, at Sampark Foundation. Views are personal)