Men at Delhi's border, women take charge of Punjab's farmlands

With harvest season round the corner and farm protests continuing, their responsibilities have multiplied

It’s been nearly four months since Rupinder Kaur’s husband has been away from home.

“Some of us (women) are used to living without men, who are guarding our frontiers. For the rest, it’s a different border where the men are. And all of us have learnt to live on the edge,” says the woman from Doraha in Ludhiana, Punjab.

Her husband, like thousands of other protesting farmers, has been camping in Singhu, Tikri and Ghazipur on the borders of Delhi, vowing not to concede ground to what they call “monstrous farm laws”. This has left women across rural Punjab in charge of the farmlands.

Kaur is expecting her husband will be back next month, just as the harvest season for the rabi crop begins. It’s a critical time for farmers, so many women are hopeful of not only the return of men to the fields but also a repeal of the farm laws, which the farmers at Delhi’s entry points have been demanding for over 100 days.

Paramjit Kaur, a resident of Pitho village in Bhatinda, is worried about the approaching harvest season with no resolution to the protests in sight. “The nervousness keeps me on my toes so that everything goes off well. Till then, I hope some sense will prevail upon the government,” she adds.

What if the government doesn’t agree to the farmers' demands? “At least, we would have ensured that we have grown strong enough to survive and fight. It looks like a long battle. Let April and even October come, we'll see who blinks first,” she says.

Paramjit Kaur gets up at 4 in the morning. Since her marriage, chores in the kitchen and tending to the cattle were part of her routine. But in the absence of her husband, she now has to water the farm, even sparingly ride the tractor, and mind her children and send them off for tuitions as schools remain closed due to Covid-19.

Kiranbir Mangat, a farmer, recently returned to Doraha. He admits that “40-50 women crowded at one place was an unusual sight”. “We used to reprimand our boys, who would crowd at a place or loiter. But this protest has brought our women out of their shell.”

He jokingly adds that his wife tells him she is better off without him. “She says she can cook, clean, milk the cow and water the farm. So, I will head to Delhi again in a couple of days and then return for the harvest.”

The solidarities forged in the wake of the agitation have brought women together across the state. 

According to Mangat, if there are 50 women in a village, half of them cook for all the families, while the rest take care of the farms and tasks such as making dung cakes.

The movement has galvanised support and united people in a manner not seen earlier, points out Manveer Kaur Rahi, legal cell chairperson of Bharatiya Kisan Union (Lakhowal) Barnala. “Animosities between neighbours have melted away, and the divide between kisan (farmer) and mazdoor (labourer) has vanished,” she adds.

Jasvir Kaur, 60, a retired Punjab School Education Board employee from Mansa, says that the farmers’ movement has brought out the best in people. “Whether at the Delhi borders or back home, our coordination is excellent. Earlier what one did for oneself is now done for an entire village or for as many families as possible  — be it buying provisions, pesticides or watering the farms.”

It has meant hectic work. Summer is some time away, but the days are already long and exhausting.

“We sleep at 11 pm and get up before dawn. Most of us have swollen eyes, but we have no choice. We have to live through this struggle,” says Sarbjeet Kaur, 45, from Bhadaur in Barnala.

Empathising with those worse off gives strength to some.

Pooja Sen, 35, who lives in Aulakh village of Rupnagar district, says a farmer died by suicide at a nearby village last month.

“My plight is nothing compared to the woman who lost her husband. Even if my husband is away, I call him up twice a day and feel relieved. Already, more than 200 farmers, who were part of the protests, have died in Delhi. Our sorrow is nothing compared to what their families are going through,” she says.

Her sister-in-law, Nisha Sen, adds that the circumstances have led them to shed their fear. “I would have never dreamt of riding a tractor. But I am slowly getting good at it,” she says.

It’s time we realised the power of women, says Rupinder Kaur, a Muktsar-based academic who is studying developments in agriculture and women’s participation in it. “Rural women work throughout the day, share the stress of their husbands, and many have to bear the loss of their husbands due to suicides and illnesses. Obviously, they are hardened,” she adds.

In the words of Rahi, while the men are soldiering on at Delhi, the women have become “the providers of the family”.