The hut is not an NGO office, nor is it the vortex of a tribal uprising in the making. It is their home. Nine years ago, the couple, known to the villagers as Michael-Swati -- former an engineer and latter an MSc (Physics) -- kicked the luxuries of life and trundled down on their motorcycle to Juna Mozda.

No, they weren't the archetypal activists itching to protest on every conceivable situation, nor were they here for some time-chained project work.

Michael-Swati `lives' (as they are considered one) here helping tribals better their agriculture by easy-to-use watershed management and teaching women make pre-cooked tuver dal to earn a bit and run a simple saving scheme as well.

As soon as the couple came here, they realised that the villagers didn't have access to even basic medical facilities. So they underwent training in primary health care to be implemented in the village, much to the villagers' benefits.

Interestingly, the couple don't depend on friends and sympathisers to keep their home fires burning. From simple basic colours, Michael-Swati make greeting cards and sell them to fulfil the basic needs to run a house. And for work, they don't first prepare their project and go to tribals -- or even funding agencies -- convincing them. They started implementing water-shed techniques, for instance, in a tribal's farm so that others could implement too if they were interested.

``We don't believe in target system as some NGOs have, nor do we try to force anything on tribals. It is with them we do it on-line,'' explains Michael. ``For instance,'' says Swati, ``when we started this saving mandli for women, they weren't convinced so we suspended it. But later when they saw it happening in some other villages, they came to us convinced, and enthusiastic.'' In water-shed management, they build simple stone bunds across fields to sustain run-off rain water to improve agricultural yield.

``Idea behind this economic activities is to reduce the heavy migration to towns and cities for work and bring self-reliance closer home,'' says Swati. But have they succeeded? ``No, we haven't totally, for it is a long and slow process. But we aren't in a hurry,'' she grins. And they need not for they have settled here to ``stay here as long as we live, unless external pressures squeeze us out.''

Asked why should that happen, Michael says ``we tell the Adivasis about their rights, make them aware of benefits available for them and try to strengthen them economically and socially. Ironically, someday it may be working at cross-purposes with government forces.''

But wouldn't their bondings with the tribals make such a purge difficult? ``We have strong ties, no doubt, but then we aren't the kinds who financially sustain adivasis. We have taken the longer route where we try to strengthen them from within and this takes time,'' explains Swati, as she walks down thin alleys in the village chatting with the adivasis in tribal lingo.

Notwithstanding possible obstacles, they are determined to continue. For them, commitment is indeed an act.