Gorakhpur is pretty much the capital of eastern and most hopeless zone of UP. There's the open border with Nepal on the north, rougher eastern districts (including Kushinagar, among the most important Buddhist sites) bordering western Bihar, and even more messed up districts of Deoria, Azamgarh, Ballia, Jaunpur etc in the south. We have long accepted that the northeast is India's forgotten zone, out of sight, out of mind. You can also come to Eastern Uttar Pradesh, especially Gorakhpur for that experience.
You can have two views of Gorakhpur, depending on where you look, downwards or up, terrestrial or aerial. If under your feet there's just muck, up there, left, right and front at road-junctions, is wherewithal to get away from it all. Writings On The Wall have taken note of the boom in private sector higher education, English-medium schools and coaching centres in the heartland for 15 years now. Education emerged as the most popular consumer product in small-town India, post-1991 reform. In Eastern UP or Purvanchal it has gone to a completely different, unreal level. Hoardings, some the size of Tollywood cinema in Hyderabad, stand wall-to-wall, offering a ticket to a job far away from here.
On a late night walk in and around Civil Lines area, I counted 200 hoardings of all kinds. A little over 170 of these were about education, training, coaching for competitive examinations, spoken English classes. One mocks you in bold Hindi letters: Udta Purvanchal’ although its young people mostly have one aspiration: to fly away.
To call Prime Minister Narendra Modi a brilliant orator does no justice to his phenomenal talent at engaging with his audience. He knows what they want to hear, when, and in what tone. Add to this his gift of timing, pauses, body language with arms waving in a wide arc, a reversed palm slapping the other when he thinks he has made a good point. You are surprised, therefore, to make that rare discovery: of a false note in his near-perfect campaign script in Deoria, about 60 km away.
More ironically, it is an error of understanding we have noted Rahul Gandhi making in past campaigns. Like him in the 2012 state election, Modi also spoke of economic migration as the region's curse. Don't all of you young people want jobs within your own janpad (taluka) so you don't have to go far away? Which young person doesn't want to live close to his old parents? He asked these questions and paused, looking for response. If he was surprised by how muted it was, he also doesn't understand the flight-not-fight desperation of Purvanchalis.
The issue here isn't just education or jobs, but the suboptimal quality of life you are condemned to, way below your means, however modest. Open drains become canals in the monsoon, you endlessly swallow an air laden with dust and so many mosquitoes that you might swallow a few if you talk on the phone while walking. The Prime Minister also read out a passage from UP government's own website admitting that parts of the state had below sub-Saharan social indicators. It could have been talking about Purvanchal.
Some of the region's curse lies in its geography. Gorakhpur is too far from just about anywhere, and doesn't fall on any of the trunk rail or highway grids in the country. Until not too long ago, it was still in the metre-gauge zone. Its people were always talented, hardy and rebellious. The midway stop between Gorakhpur and Deoria is Chauri Chaura, where a mob burnt the police station killing 23 policemen in February 1922 and jolted Mahatma Gandhi into calling off his first non-cooperation movement and go on a fast in penance. The British declared martial law, and let loose a reign of reprisals and terror. Nehru came to protest, was arrested here, and you wonder how he would have made it to a place so distant now, 94 years later. In Gorakhpur jail, famous revolutionary Ram Prasad Bismil was hanged. But the region was still too far.
Revolutionaries have now been succeeded by mafiosi. Harishankar Tiwari and Virendra Pratap Shahi, who ran storied, brutal and blood-feuding Brahmin and Rajput mafias are no more. But there are any number of smaller gangs and any time a senas (private armies)." This is how Purvanchal also passes the test of the popular meaning of the epithet badlands.
The reigning sovereign of Gorakhpur isn't a feudal or conventional mafioso. It's a well-muscled, articulate, saffron-clad bhay),” he says. Why fear, and whose fear, we ask. The question is ignored.
His eyes light up when the idea of splitting UP into smaller states comes up. One of these would be Purvanchal. This election isn't the time for this, he says, but makes it evident he looks forward to it later and sees himself as its natural chief minister. With such prospects written on the wall, who wouldn't listen to Arshad Warsi's advice. And get his backside out of here.