India is a sleeping elephant and shall always be!” I read this a long time ago… As I travelled on a part-holiday, part-pilgrimage journey during the New Year from Delhi to the historic city of Lucknow to Goswami Tulsidas’ Chitrakot via Khajuraho, the real meaning of this statement dawned on me.

We started from a straddling and aggressive India that is visible all over in Delhi. Equipped with a modern, swanky airport, latest sports utility vehicles (SUVs) and luxury cars, high definition flat televisions and four-lane roads and flyovers, the concerns of this India are Team Anna, Pakistan-China, gross domestic (GDP) growth rates, sunrise and sunset industries, including foreign direct investment (FDI) in retail, and how the young can get admitted to prestigious MBA and engineering programmes.

From Lucknow to the industrial city of Kanpur, it took us about two hours to cover a distance of about 100 km. The real inside-India story begins once we cross Kanpur. One distinctly passes through at least three different evolutionary time zones from the 19th century to the medieval to the pre-historic. From Kanpur to Khajuraho via Hamirpur, it took us another seven hours to cover a mere 200 km without stopping even once (we could not, since there are virtually no public toilets or decent restaurants with rest room facilities). The return journey from Chitrakot was no different, except that it took nine hours to reach Kanpur for a similar distance.

From Kanpur to Hamirpur, much of the economy rests on extracting Mohrang and sand — both building materials — from riverbeds and on local agricultural produce. The place benefits from its proximity to Kanpur and two rivers on either side. Roads are conspicuous with deep potholes throughout. It is a typical rural life, equivalent to late 19th century evolution.

Onwards towards Mahoba, one sees blasted hills, small and large mills crushing rocks and stones to small-size pebbles and powder, and hydraulic-operated tractor trolleys on the visible landscape. The economy is centred around exploiting the rocky hills for granite and stone. There are small shops and puncture-repair shops (mostly for the trolleys). We had no time to find out how much of the mining is legal and licensed. At many places, young children (hardly 10 years old) and women were engaged in breaking stones with heavy hammers. The trolleys are operated mostly by young men in their early 20s without face masks or roof covers on their tractors. Being hired on a contract basis, they work non-stop 14-16 hours daily. The entire area is heavily polluted with roads full of dust, sand particles and smog. The visibility is a mere few metres. We were witnessing a medieval India trudging along at subsistence levels.

From Mahoba to Khajuraho (about 70 km), the transition from the medieval age to the pre-historic age was easy to spot, yet shocking. This is the region that was the capital of the Chandelas around 1000 AD and the time when Mahmud Ghaznavi was marauding the land with his frequent forays. By now, it was almost dusk (remember, we started early morning). The pictures are embedded in the mind: Womenfolk carrying pitchers on their heads and traversing several kilometres for fetching drinking water (although, there are few hand-pumps in some villages). Along the road, were menfolk — children, young men and the aged — shepherding back small herds of (mostly) sheep back home. They had nothing else to do and no other means of livelihood. There were vast tracts of barren land, with few villages having thatched roofs and mud houses. The people have no access to healthcare, primary education or other basic necessities. The difference between the human and the animal almost vanishes. History tells us that humans 3,000 years ago, lived a similar existence. We were not even aware whether we were in Uttar Pradesh or Madhya Pradesh.

In the absence of even basic needs, it is also no wonder that people largely are superstitious, believe in their destiny and fall prey to exorcists, quacks, false godmen and proselytisers promising quick nivarana and salvation. We were witnessing a submissive and struggling India. The semi-circle starting from De­lhi was complete.

During the entire journey from Kanpur onwards, it was clear that grassroots democracy has not even touched this part of India. The notion of accountability and responsibility does not even exist. One can ask: Where are the DMs, commissioners, MPs, MLAs of the region and what have they done in the past 60 years? Who is in charge of NH-86 and NH-75, other state highways and important bridges on rivers, such as Betwa and Yamuna? Where has all the money meant for infrastructure, including electricity, bridges and roads gone? The government officials are th­ere, but, the government itself does not exist.

This is the short story of the most central part of India — say its heart. We witnessed a large number of broken down trucks on our way. But more than that, a heartless society that has no fear of retribution and one that cannot hear the voice of the inner conscience is bound to perish.

(The writer is a professor of strategy and corporate governance, IIM-Lucknow)