Letters from Latitude 20°15: ‘I want to get a good job, give my first salary to Mummy’

hit the next ball into the shrubs from where the sand begins to roll into the brown rocks that stop the sea from entering Saronda village in Gujarat. But what he wants from the year ahead is still about six months away, when the 20-year-old wraps up his diploma in electrical engineering from Laxmi Institute of Technology in Saregam at the border with Silvassa in Dadra and Nagar Haveli.

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“I am really full of hope for 2015,” says Patel. “I want to get a good job and I want to give my first salary to my mummy. The smile on her face then will be worth more to me than all the money in the world.”

“Mummy” is Meena, who is actually the wife of his father’s elder brother. “My mother died due to jaundice when I was just over a year old,” says Patel. “But that has hardly bothered me. Ever since I can remember, my mummy has taken care of me. For me, she is my mother. In fact, people say she pampers me more than she does her own two daughters because she always takes my side.”

Patel hopes that once he completes his training period in a “big company”, he will get a “big salary” of Rs 20,000 to Rs 30,000. “I want to help my father too,” he says. “He runs a cable TV business in the village, and you know there’s not much future there with DTH and the Internet. He charges Rs 150 per month per connection, and even that is not a regular income because some people in the village may not have enough money to pay.”

His big idea: Solar lights in the village

Patel was born on November 25, 1994 at 10 am, “just two hours before mummy gave birth to her second daughter Dinal”. He studied from Class 1 to Class 6 in Sanjan Jadirana High School nearby and from Class 6 to Class 10 as a boarder at the PCG School in Bordi, 30 km away because it had “better facilities”.

He opted for science in his Class 11 and 12 at the PCG College and took electrical engineering as his path to a better life. “Whatever you may say… software, mechanical… nothing runs without electricity, right?” Patel asks, his confidence brimming over.

He is yet to get his hands on that course certificate but Patel has already mapped out his future with a mix of common sense and idealism. “I want to be an Energy Audit Manager. That’s one area that’s going to boom — renewable energy — where there will be a lot of opportunities. I want to make good money and then help my village.”

His big idea? “Use solar energy for all the lighting at the public spaces in my village.”

The village that Patel is so passionate about is right now in the midst of an exciting cricket final on a well-laid out turf pitch on land donated by the Parsis who once used to live here. But Patel has sneaked out for a game on the beach with his friends because the Saronda team, of which he is an all-rounder, was knocked out of the tournament in the semifinals.

“There are somewhere between 2,000-3,000 people in this village and cricket is everything for us. My father is 49 but even now he plays in our team,” Patel adds with a grin. “We organise this tournament every year so that there is something for the youth here to look forward to. Cricket keeps many of them away from the wrong track.”

Patel’s father Haresh is affectionately called “Baliya” in Saronda, and you can see that his son is a favourite face too, as he waves and smiles to almost every other person he passes on the way.

Pointing to a dilapidated bungalow next to the cricket field, Patel says, “That once belonged to a Parsi. This area was dominated by Parsis once upon a time, and Sanjan, where they are supposed to have landed for the first time in India, is on this coast. But now there are only two families left here and they are based in Mumbai.”

Then, there’s that one village nugget that people here narrate with pride to wide-eyed visitors. “Do you remember the man whom Hema Malini hits on the face with her whip in that horse-cart chase scene in Sholay? Well, that was Ahmad, from this village. But he died a few years ago,” says Patel.

The guided tour which includes a salt pan and a half-built bridge—where construction stopped when the land began to sink —ends in a frown because Ahmad’s house is locked and Patel once again turns towards the beach, his “dariya”, the final dot on Latitude 20°15′.
Looking out into the shimmering horizon, he says, “I have this immense feeling that we, as a country, are on the verge of something big.

There is a port coming up in Nargol nearby…I can see a lot of investment coming in, a lot of jobs being created, a lot of poverty in this area being wiped out…Jab job hain to koi bhi wrong track mein nahin jaayega (When there are jobs, no one will go on the wrong track).”

Getting up now, ready to go, slapping the sand from his hands, tucking the bat and stumps under his shoulder, Patel says, “The future is bright and I want to be a part of it. I want to grab my chances, make it big, step into a new world. I am so excited about 2015.” And with that, he turns his back to the dipping sun.

It’s around 4.30 pm, and in Saronda, it’s time for Hardik Patel to plan his New Year party. In Kanker, it’s time for Ajay Mandavi to unwind at home after another art and crafts class at the local jail. In Khasgaon, it’s time for Sandhya Salve to look forward to a few hours of rest after another busy day at the health centre. And nearly 2,000km away, it’s time for Nitai Mandal to start thinking about his night shift at the Paradip Lighthouse.

At Latitude 20°15′, it’s already 2015.