Tribhuvan gets his ribs and head smashed and has a miraculous escape during the Salt March but his contribution goes unrecorded in the annals of history, and the plight of his Agaria community remains unchanged even after independence. Though the taxes are removed from salt, the Agarias (agar means “salt farm”), who are a denotified tribe, are conveniently forgotten by the government. Salt prices are slashed as a mark of respect to Gandhi, disregarding the hard work of the Agarias and their exploitation worsens.

Post Independence, their land is converted into a reserved forest for wild asses. The poverty-stricken Agarias were handed the land through a firman of Mughal Emperor Aurangzeb and had been harvesting salt for hundreds of years. They are unaware of “any other form of work in the fast-changing world beyond the salt farms”. They are stunned that the government doesn’t care about who came here first – the humans or the wild asses.

They silently ponder over who was a better ruler – the British or the Indians? Weren’t the Agarias “indulged” by the British, who laid water pipelines, built schools, a hospital and a library, and made sure they had access to basic necessities? Even though salt was taxed, the Agarias were valued by the British and were not made victims of bad governance.

Post Independence they are starved for water, and there is no question of the government stepping in to repair the broken pipelines laid by the British. A private tanker has to be called every 20 days. The Agarias have to “pay through their noses” for this water. Even then, the tanker never arrives on time.

The novel examines the British monopoly on salt production, the independence struggle with Gandhi at the helm, life in Sabarmati Ashram, an interesting glimpse into Gandhi’s daily schedule, and his wife Kasturba’s role in his life. “Today he did not need Kasturba as a companion or fellow-warrior – not for the salt satyagrah, at least,” writes Agnihotri as Kasturba, Gandhi’s companion in many marches in South Africa, takes a back seat during the march to Dandi.

The novel also follows the story of Malati, a member of the Agaria community, who is worrying about the water tanker, as her husband Vishnuram lies inert “born with thirst, dying of thirst”. The tanker has arrived only twice in three months. Agnihotri conveys the pain and anguish of the Agarias beautifully – “the game of suppressing their thirst, of packing it away deep within, of distracting themselves with various tasks, is played continuously.”

Salt-making is a tedious process. The workers have to walk barefoot in the salt pans, and this leads to permanent damage to their health and especially legs. Agarias usually don’t live beyond 60 years. Seeing her husband’s condition, Malati wonders if they will have to bury her husband’s legs. “Wading through saline water and earth every day has atrophied their calves beneath their knees, while a lifetime of salt gathers in their marrow. This is why when a salt farmer dies, his torso burns on the pyre, but not his legs,” writes Agnihotri.

A great believer in Gandhi, Tribhuvan dies a dejected man. Gandhibaba did or said nothing about changing the lives of the Agarias, and Tribhuvan’s own contribution in the Dandi march has been relegated to folklore.

Tribhuvan’s son Ramsingh starts openly praising the British government and not without reason. While there was a school for Tribhuvan in British India, there wasn’t any for his grandson Azad in independent India. Ramsingh is also sore that wild asses have reservoirs to drink from, while the perpetually thirsty Agarias wait for tankers.

Ramsingh’s son Azad takes after his grandfather in his idealism, and the Agarias look up to him. Clad in a khadi kurta-pyjama and sporting a Nehru jacket irrespective of the season, he maintains a phone book of important numbers, including the engineer who dispatches water tankers.

As the situation of the Agarias worsens, Azad is in a dilemma. He can’t decide who is more evil – the outsiders who exploited his ancestors or the insiders who are on a path of mindless commercialisation? He is torn between his grandfather’s and father’s opposing sentiments for independent India: his grandfather’s patriotism and his father’s scepticism.

As the topography of the Kutch changes with a big business group wanting to pump “money into salt, the symbol of azaadi” to commercialise the area and promote tourism, Azad decides to take up the fight for salt against the establishment once more, this time in modern India.

Author of more than 50 books of poetry, short stories, novels and essays in Bangla including Mahanadi, The Sickle, and Mahuldiha Days, Agnihotri was a member of the Indian Administrative Services for more than three decades.

Written with a lot of heart and beautifully translated by Arunava Sinha, A Touch of Salt presents a panoramic view of a multigenerational struggle for survival and shows how the Agarias were exploited, first by the colonial powers and then by their very own.

Lamat R Hasan is an independent journalist. She lives in New Delhi.