Oh, I cannot read!

When we appeal to workers passing by to stop and read the paper, there are many in the crowd who claim that “they cannot read the paper” and keep moving on. Initially we believed this.

Recently, once the paper sale was over for the day, we gathered around to discuss this issue; one of the comrades asked “how is it possible, that the worker, who bought the paper just a few weeks back, is now claiming that he is illiterate?” This was quite an interesting but also a serious issue. We decided to trace some of the workers who have said this and try engaging them in a dialogue.

It was not an easy task to locate these workers amongst the hundreds who pass every minute. But eventually our hard work bore fruit. We were able to locate one of them. When we confronted him and asked if he was joking when he said that he could not read, he just laughed. We asked him, “do you not like the paper?” He laughed again and said “no, nothing of that sort. I have bought the paper twice earlier”.

We were puzzled and asked him, “then why don’t you buy it now?”

He then narrated his story.

“I work in B-block of Okhla Industrial Area in a garment export factory as a washing man. I have to work overtime and hence cannot find time to read. The last time around, I had some spare time after my lunch and started reading your paper. Some workers were sitting around me. Seeing me read this paper, they started moving away. I was quite surprised, but could not make out the reason for this.”

“In the afternoon around 3 p.m. the contactor called for me. Looking questioningly at me he said “Ratan, are you planning to set up a Union?” I was quite surprised by his question. But then I recalled the afternoon’s incident, when I was reading the paper.”

“I tried clarifying to him. “Oh, I bought this paper from the people who sell this paper every 15 days at the railway gate.” He did not mince his words and warned “This should not happen again. Otherwise you will be fired.”

Completing his story Ratan said very sadly “You know how difficult it is to get a job”.

We understood the secret behind the “illiteracy” of the workers. I recalled the passage from Mother by Maxim Gorky, where the mother would take leaflets inside the factory hidden in her basket for workers to read.

Instead of giving him a revolutionary speech, I just nodded my head, and he took leave of me.

Next month Ratan handed over thirty rupees to me as soon as got his salary and requested me to send the paper to his house. He said “that solves both our problems”.

He had also realized how the capitalists in their selfish class interest create such conditions, so that the workers do not gain political consciousness as a class.