Babulal filed an appeal against the order of the SDM in the court of the collector at Jagdalpur. Simultaneously, the hearing on the revision petition before the additional commissioner also continued. Jagtu found himself shuttling between Jagdalpur and Raipur, to attend the hearings. The collector confirmed the order of the SDM, but each hearing before the additional commissioner was concluded without any proceedings on the case. Armed with the collector’s order, Jagtu once again went to the tehsildar to take possession of his land. But he maintained that the stay order of the additional commissioner was still in force, and therefore he could not transfer possession of the land to Jagtu.

The hearings were still proceeding before the additional commissioner when Babulal filed another revision application, this time in the court of the commissioner. So now he began shuttling between the courts of the additional commissioner and the commissioner in Raipur.

His lawyer stood by him all this while and accepted no money apart from what the government gave him for legal aid. But expenses still continued to mount, and one by one Jagtu sold away his goats and two cows, and the wood of the sal tree that stood outside their home.

Through all this, Manglia remained dispirited and pensive, but she never actively resisted Jagtu’s efforts. She knew that it would be of no avail. As one by one, the animals went, she made no complaint. The greatest wrench was the sal tree being cut down, because this was the ‘devgudi’, the abode of the gods of the house. It bode ill that the tree was cut down and sold. But Jagtu would never listen.

One night two constables entered their hut, and dragged Jagtu away to the police station, on the charge of disturbing the peace. Manglia, now five months pregnant, was distraught. She sold her last few pieces of silver jewellery for the lawyer’s fees, and to bail out Jagtu. Another case started, this time in the tehsil court. So now Jagtu spent his time rushing between the commissioner’s and additional commissioner’s court in Raipur, and the tehsildar’s court.

If this was not enough, another notice arrived, this time from Jabalpur. Babulal Joshi had filed yet another petition, this time in the High Court of Jabalpur. For the first time, Jagtu felt a little daunted. Jabalpur—he did not even know where Jabalpur was. It was hundreds of miles away, he was told. You had to catch a bus to Raipur, and then after the long and dusty bus ride there, you had to change two trains to get to Jabalpur. Until now he had not even seen a train.

But he still had some money saved up from all he had sold. His lawyer gave him a letter for a friend in Jabalpur, who was practising in the High Court. The lawyer assured Jagtu would help him. Jagtu then set off on his first journey to Jabalpur.

After the first hearing, he returned to Raipur for the case in the commissioner’s court. Final orders were passed by the commissioner, again in Jagtu’s favour. But now he could not get possession of his land because of the stay order from the High Court.

By the time he returned to his village, Manglia had given birth to a son. But Jagtu’s joy on becoming a father was short-lived, for he could no longer evade the question of how he would pay to fight his case in the High Court.

Two days later, his mind was made up. All they owned now was their hut, and the small patch of land around it. He would sell this and go with his wife and son to Jabalpur. Somehow they would manage there and fight their case. Manglia heard Jagtu’s decision without argument or comment. Only her eyes spoke, saying more than any words could. Nonetheless, she complied, and a week later Jagtu left his village, with his wife and infant son.

When the train pulled into Jabalpur station, Jagtu for the first time experienced the stirrings of panic. He had brought along his wife and son, but where would they go? How would they eat? When he had come alone, he had slept on an open pavement. But where could he take his family?

They passed the first two nights on the pavement. During the day, he would sit outside the lawyer’s office, as his wife sat quietly at its gate, cradling their infant son. Food was expensive, and he already found their money slipping away.

There was no other way but to find work. After three days of searching, he found employment along with his wife on a construction site. His wife tied her son on her back as they worked, dust in their hair, in their mouths, and in their eyes.

They were given a small hut at the site itself, where they stretched out that night, exhausted. The baby wept disconsolately, unable to sleep.

Jagtu was silent for a long time. Then at last he spoke, his voice choked with tears. Perhaps, Manglia, you were right, he said. It was my madness, nothing else, this obsession with the courts. What have I been able to give you? We have lost our home and hearth and everything we possessed. Even then, we are no closer to getting back the land that is ours. I don’t know if we will ever succeed. Yes, perhaps you were right, it was only my madness. May be I, too, should have learnt like the others to accept, to be content.

Manglia’s eyes changed. They burned with a passion that Jagtu had never seen before. No, Jagtu, no, she said. Don’t change, don’t ever change. Don’t lose heart after having fought so long, so bravely and so hard. We will not give up, Jagtu. We will never give up. We will get back our land one day (Mander 2001: 72-86).

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