Karia Munda lived in a small village in a remote part of Hazaribagh district. His small hut was in the mid of a thick forest. Many other huts surrounded his hut. As a child; Karia Munda loved to climb trees, swing from one branch to another, run after the hens and stray dogs, and hunting for birds with a slingshot. Life was simple but it was pleasure to live such a blissful life. One day, some people came in a jeep. They were wearing trousers and shirts, and were speaking in Hindi. They told Karia’s father that a big company was going to make a factory in that village. They told that all the people of that village would have to vacate their huts. The company would make new houses for them and would give jobs to them in the new factory. Some of the villagers were so excited that they gave their thumb imprints on blank paper in the hope of a bright future. Those who refused to do so were forced to fall in line. Once the factory came up in the village, a large part of the forest had vanished. Nobody from the village got the promised job and everyone was forced to migrate to cities in search of livelihood. Karia Munda’s family migrated to Hazaribagh. Unable to find a meaningful work; Karia Munda’s father began to work in a brick kiln as daily wage earner. He made a small hut from tin sheets, cardboard and wooden board; near a stinking drain. Karia Munda and his sister also started working in the brick kiln. Now, he did not have the luxury to play the way he played back in his village. Life had become a painful grind for Karia Munda and his family.
