I
am writing for those whose voices and words never make it to the
surface. It is incessantly drowned among the ripples of artificial
noises. I write this not because I feel they need my help, I write
because I am one of them. So we write this not as pleaders, we write
this with anguish in our hearts.
Who are we?
We are those who have been cleaning your streets for decades, we are those who keep your home clean by plunging into the depths of rotting refuse, we are those who get up every morning to make sure that your water, electricity and machines functions without any interruption. We are those who live by the day, weeks and months because we do not have a future beyond that. We are those 24
who have stopped dreaming of another renaissance. We are those who die every month in living our tryst with destiny, as those relegated to the bottom of human society. We are everywhere but have become invisible to all. We are those who die, and are never reclaimed as men. We are the working-class. - A phrase from dissertation of Ashish Jha (TISS, Centre for Labour Studies)
Who are we?
We are those who have been cleaning your streets for decades, we are those who keep your home clean by plunging into the depths of rotting refuse, we are those who get up every morning to make sure that your water, electricity and machines functions without any interruption. We are those who live by the day, weeks and months because we do not have a future beyond that. We are those 24
who have stopped dreaming of another renaissance. We are those who die every month in living our tryst with destiny, as those relegated to the bottom of human society. We are everywhere but have become invisible to all. We are those who die, and are never reclaimed as men. We are the working-class. - A phrase from dissertation of Ashish Jha (TISS, Centre for Labour Studies)
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