A walk to Darbhanga Railway station tells part of the story. Vijay Mahto, 40, has just arrived home from Amritsar, where he works as farm worker. “I had to return for Chhath. But I can’t stay too long because rabi sowing will begin in a few days and I will have to go back. Or else someone else will take my job. But yaad aati hai ... (I miss my family),” he says, walking rapidly through the crush. The railway station is packed with people returning home from Punjab and Delhi. He is part of the migrant labour force, which leaves the region for want of employment every few months. Darbhanga got an airport about four years ago. In this festival season, a passenger who did not want to be named confessed ruefully that he paid ₹53,000 for a one-way ticket from Mumbai. The airport hosts three airlines that run flights from Delhi and Mumbai. But to go to Bengaluru or Hyderabad by air is a tall order. There are no direct flights to Jaipur, for instance, or Surat, considered employment hubs by locals.
“Darbhanga, indeed all of Mithilanchal, is neither here nor there,” says Rameshwar Jha, a shopkeeper who provides a plethora of services, from processing the Aadhaar card and selling government forms that entitle residents to apply for government services such as caste certificates. He says proudly that he has expanded his range: He now has the technical expertise to record music cassettes for prospective candidates in the Assembly polls. “I get by,” he says modestly, when asked about his turnover. This much is true: That there is no industry in the region worth the name and what existed has also died.
Ashok Paper Mills was started in 1958 by the Darbhanga Raj. In north Bihar, it was one of the earliest private enterprises and was set up on land acquired from peasants in the hope it would bring employment. It closed down in 1973. Subsequent efforts, including nationalisation, to revive it failed. If restarted, it could provide employment for at least 1,000 people. Several sugar mills too are closed. An air of hopelessness pervades the region.
But amid the gloom, locals readily accept that government schemes have helped. Navigating deep potholes in the city roads, Ramesh, who drives a rickety autorickshaw, says his family has got the benefit of free food and free power and expects the women in his household to get the ₹10,000 grant “that many of my neighbours have already got in their account”. The grant was announced by Chief Minister Nitish Kumar last month. His political worldview is: Nitish Kumar is a weather vane, but at least some of the schemes have reached families like his. His anger is against the lower bureaucracy and corruption. “I submitted my papers for a grant to build a house. The official said he wanted ₹20,000 to process my papers. I told him I won’t pay. Then I got my nephew to do it online. It will take longer. But at least I won’t have to pay,” he says.
It isn’t that there’s been no growth in Mithilanchal. Bihar’s economy has grown 3.5 times since 2011-12, driven by investment in roads, railways, and air connectivity. Mithilanchal has got a small slice of it. But it is still an economy driven by agriculture: It doesn’t want to be, but it can’t help itself.
 "Mithilanchal")
