Singur, a year after the pullout

The Tata Nano factory site. Picture by Sanat Kr. Sinha

Singur, Oct. 3: The irony is just too much for villagers here. Lakshmi Puja, the festival of the goddess of wealth, has coincided with the first anniversary of the day their dreams of prosperity were wrecked and Bengal’s hopes of industrial resurgence vanished.

On October 3, 2008, Ratan Tata had moved the Nano out of Singur to Gujarat’s Sanand, saying: “Ms (Mamata) Banerjee pulled the trigger.”

The earth mirrors the irony across the 998 acres off Delhi Road from where the world’s cheapest car was to roll out. It has sprouted a luxuriant cover of two-metre-tall kaash flowers that sway in the breeze around clusters of scrap — leftovers from the dismantling of the project.

At Singur Bazar, there’s no last-minute rush to buy puja ingredients. Shopkeepers who had stocked up on pujo samogri sit idle.

“Going by the sales, not more than 150 Lakshmi Pujas will be held around these parts this year. Earlier, the number would be more than 500,” said Bolai Dutta, a retailer of puja materials.

There seems no urgency among people to return home to Joymollah, Gopalnagar or Ratanpur for the puja.

“It was so different earlier. There was a spring in everybody’s step,” says Pradip Ghorai, referring to the time huge lorries moved in and out of the factory site, carrying in equipment.

“People driving down Delhi Road would stop and step out to stare at the site with curious and hopeful expressions.”

Pradip has been selling tea, biscuits and other snacks from his improvised van rickshaw since the time the project began taking shape. His sales have plunged because all the workers have left.

Benoy Dolui, 27, a jobless youth from Gopalnagar, had opened a roadside eatery in September 2007 just outside the factory, serving dal and rice to the labourers. “Of the 500 to 700 people working at the plant at any given time, at least 40 would be regulars at my eatery,” he says.

Today, he is lucky if a couple of private security guards — about a 100 still live at the project site — buy a meal from him.

For months, since the equipment and machinery were moved out, no activity has taken place at the site. “HR department officials visit once or twice a month,” said a security guard standing alert at the gate to keep off intruders.

The scrap strewn all around is valuable, and thieves often try to take advantage of the broken boundary wall. A van from Singur police station comes for a check twice a day.

“The people of Singur feel cheated. We have lost both our agricultural land and any employment opportunity,” says Rabindra Dolui, 49.

Rabindra had been an “unwilling land-loser” when the government acquired his three bighas for the project, but later accepted his cheque and opened a grocery inside the plant premises.

He did well till October 2 last year and, when the Nano moved out, wasn’t particularly distressed because he hoped to get his land back, as promised by the leaders of the anti-Nano agitation. Today, he is disillusioned.

“The infighting among the politicians has cost us our future. There is not even a glimmer of hope left,” the Joymollah resident says. “When the site closed, there was merchandise worth Rs 1 lakh in my shop. I lost all of it.”

Bengal industries minister Nirupam Sen has said the Tatas have promised to vacate the land whenever any suitable project comes up. However, there is no proposal so far, Sen added.

Industry circles say any new investor will need to stump up Rs 300-500 crore since Tata has made it clear he wants compensation.

As of now, 647 acres are leased out to Tata Motors till March 31 next year and about 290 acres to the various vendors. None has cancelled their lease so far. Technically, Tata Motors and its vendors can keep the land by paying the rental for the next 89 years.

Chinese automaker FAW Corporation had shown interest about the Singur land but the economic downturn has stalled many companies’ expansion plans. Besides, with the rise of the Trinamul Congress, would-be investors are likely to wait for a political solution.

“Singur needs political solution. Before any investor comes, it has to happen,” Sen agreed.

Meanwhile, Rabindra Dolui lives off the Rs 50,000 he had set aside from his compensation. He is eaten up with worry.

“What will happen to me, my wife and our four daughters?” he says. “Every political party used Singur as a plank to fight elections. But now no one comes here to solve our problems.”