Game over…

Game over…

It is finally over.. I mean the CWG and we can all get back to our lives.. or so I hope. Games over, let the audit begin scream headlines as everyone is on overdrive trying to exonerate themselves and pass the buck. Committees are being formed, agencies roped in to examine all charges. I do hope something does come out of it but why then am I feeling so despondent. I guess, without being a cynic, it is because of a sense of deja vu.

A few days back I urged everyone to spare a thought for the myriad of workers who had toiled to ensure that the show happened. Salute them we must. Today another touching set of pictures brought the same people to mind. A photo essay entitled the Other Games, depicts the plight of the CWG children. The worker’s kids who played their own set of games well before the Games began. It is extremely touching and speaks volumes. Again I gently urge you to spend some time looking at the pictures. I did and as I looked at the innocent faces I could not stop myself from asking the loud question that begged to be asked: where were they today? Most of these children’s families, like thousands of others were brought from other states. Wonder whether they are still in this city or have gone back home. Wonder whether their parents have found jobs. And if they are still here do they have a roof on their heads? Questions crowd the mind. Don’t these children have rights like all the other children of India. Right to education to begin with. Yet while their parents toiled they were left to their own devise in makeshift inhuman shelters or on the pavement, living their childhood as best they could. Who usurped their rights? I guess we all did and must bear the shame.

As the mud slinging continues and the enquiries get on their way my thoughts go to all those who lost their homes because of the Games, to those who lost their livelihood, to those who were compelled to leave the city for the hallowed fortnight as there was no work. To my Lohar friends whose life changed forever simply because they lived on a road guests would zip past. Will the enquiries, audits, probes give them back what they have lost. No way. They will need to rescript their lives and reinvent themselves. Wonder if they will be able to do so. Hope the God of Lesser Beings will once again conjure a miracle.

she does not stop smiling

she does not stop smiling

There was a PTM at the boarding school yesterday and as always it was pure joy to see our exceptional eight! It was also Kiran‘s birthday and she had decided to celebrate it with her special pal Utpal and his friends. So we had chocolate cake and pizza and other goodies. It was a quaint birthday party held in the housemother’s room, with a band of very special children and lot of laughter and cheer.

But that was not the highlight of the day. You may wonder what it was then? Well it was little Manisha who just could not stop smiling. Her happiness was infectious and heartwarming. She just beamed all the time, her smile getting bigger if you asked her if she was happy at school! In two months she had put on weight and was looking for want of a better word: sparkling!

It was indeed a special moment to see this child who just a few months ago had been living in a hell hole and who by a twist of fate or should I say by the grace of my friends the God of lesser beings, saw her life touched by a miracle. The tears and anxiety for the past were gone for ever and in its place was this big huge smile that said it all. I tried to imagine what could have been going in her little head but stopped myself as it may just have taken away the pure magic of that blessed moment.

Once more I say Chapeau Bas to the God of lesser beings!

case of the small entrepreneur – an India story

case of the small entrepreneur – an India story

An article entitled no sir slums are not eyesores (the article is at the end of the list) warmed the cockles of my heart! This article written by an eminent economist is an apologia for slums. The author writes: cities must not be elite in a sea of rural despond. They must provide income and social ladders for the poor and unskilled to climb up…. we must have more slums. These are entry points for the poor into urban havens of opportunity…. some see slums as hubs of sub human existence …but you will find an astonishingly wide range of economic activities….if cities are to fulfill their critical function of social mobility we need more slums... Wow an article after my own heart!

And before you start talking of reverse migration by making rural areas prosperous listen to what the author has to say: India has 160 millions hectare of cultivable land for 1250 million people or 1/8 of a hectare per person and even if the urban share of population doubles from todays 30 % to 60 % it will just be 1/3 of a hectare per person! It is not without reason that rural folks migrate to cities. How wretched rural India must be if people see more hope in urban shanties!

Welcome to the world of what I have always called small entrepreneurs, the ones our satraps are so keen on destroying and obliterating and yet the only ones which can ensure that India prospers. Who are they you ask. Just look around and you will find them: it is you corner samosa seller, your food cart owner, your vegetable vendor, your fruit vendor. It is the young man who walks the streets to repair broken zips, the street corner cobbler or the street tailor always ready to mend your shoes and clothes. It is the enterprising lad who sets up an array of guides and help books in front of an exam centre, or the one who sells all you need for a particular festival. It is the family that makes soft toys in their hovel before selling them at fairs and melas. It is all your pavement vendors who sell the trinkets you need. It is also the plumber, painter, mason, carpenter who sit at road corners hoping to get work for the day. They are the real heart and soul of our land and we need to ensure that they thrive.

Each one feeds a family, educates children and enables them to dream of better morrows. Most of the pwhy children’s parents are just that: small entrepreneurs and it is their blood and sweat that ensures that their children prosper. We have many such kids: the son of our three wheeler driver who today teaches secondary classes at pwhy’s Okhla centre, the vegetable vendor’s daughter who today works in a call centre, the gypsy brothers who after a stint as teachers at pwhy have now got better jobs one at the airport and the other in a bank – the list ins endless and each is an India story. There are so many of them, each endearing and moving.

Life in the city, even in a hovel opens new vistas often thanks to the ever present TV set. I have seen enfold in from of my eyes many times over the last decade. I have seen how a tiny business opportunity brings change into the darkest hovel. This is the social mobility the article highlights, a throbbing and pulsating exercise in hope and belief. There is no other way out, at least for the time being.
Link

a bit of cheer

A news item brought a bit of cheer. The headline was NGO brings in kids to fill stadia. Yippee! So the poor do come useful in the common wealth games, good that you did not banish or hide them all Madam CEO! Apparently this great idea came after a lot of brainstorming. And it is a double whammy as for the children, watching Indian and international athletes live in action is something that they will cherish throughout their lives but for the OC, giving them these complementary tickets has taken care of their biggest worry — filling up empty seats.

How nice if this had been something the Organising Committee had thought of before. A few seats for the poor children would have been well appreciated. Anyway better late than never. I am sure the children will cherish this moment forever.

And there is more. Seeing all the athletes from small town India winning Gold Medals is heart warming as we all know the odds they have to face. And what about Geeta whose father fought will all village elders to ensure that his daughters follow their dream of wrestling! A real India story!

The Games are on… and one has not forgotten the terrible things that have preceded then. The Games are on … with its share of blunders that happen every day and make our heckles rise. But our athletes do deserve our kudos as they are doing their very best. When then Games are finally over then it will time to ask all the questions that now lie in abeyance. Let us not forget that.

Salute them we must

The opening ceremony of the XIX Commonwealth Games was a resounding success. Indi’s pride was restored or so many think. On the same day an investigative weekly ran an article entitled: We who built your games. It is a poignant photo essay of the trails and tribulations of the hundreds of thousands of workers who built the said Games brick by brick. I think that today when the lights are shining and the world is lauding us, they above all need to be saluted or at lest remembered. Please do spend a few minutes and read the article and look at the pictures.

I have often talked of the faceless and voiceless Indian who I have held is the real backbone of our country but few of us are willing to recognise this. So today as a mark of honour to all those who toiled day and night to make the Games are success, to all those who died while doing so I urge you again to spend a few minutes and look at the faces which thanks to this article have a name and listen to what they have to say. They were almost 200 000 labourers who made the Game possible and each was paid a paltry 100 Rs, half the minimum wage and less than what some were paid in the Asian games way back in 1982! They lived in squalor and filth but never complained. They suffered fever and pain but all they got was an innocuous pill doled out by some government doctor. If they did not recover in 5 days they lost their job!

There were no safety belts even if you hung at dizzy heights and no helmets. Over 1000 died though the official figure stands frozen at 42. No laws protected them as most were not registered. You see by not registering them contractors saved 360 crores a year. Once their work finished they have simply been pushed out of the city, back to where they were brought from.

Spend some time on the slide show of the article meet Rajdeb who slept in the open, see how they lived and what they ate. Meet Raj (slide 9) born in a tin box, or Pramod and his family (slide 12) who fled drought and landed in a tin box. This is the real face of the Games but sadly one no one will see or bother about. Today we have a chance to salute them and salute them we must.

Do you have a minute to spare for them.