by Anuradha Bakshi | Feb 12, 2007 | common school, lohars, two indias
Two young ladies age 6 and 11 visited project why last week. Their mom a high executive in the hospitality industry had brought them along as she felt it would be a good experience for them.
We went hopped from one part of pwhy to the other: from a building in a narrow lane, to a tiny shack in side a crowded slum, to the class in the garbage dump via the broken lohar camp to our smart computer centre.
The girls kept silent as they imbibed what they saw. As we bid good bye I could asked the younger one whether she would like to come and teach her peer group all the songs she learnt in her fancy school. her eyes lit up as she looked eagerly at her mom before nodding her head. Her elder sibling remained silent.
Later I asked my friend what the reactions of the girls had been and was not surprised when she told me that the little one was eager to come back while the older one had not said much barring the fact that it had made her sad.
Once again the two Indias were evident. The yet candid and unspoilt little one had immediately felt at ease and one with other kids her age as social and economic origins meant nothing to her, she was a child amongst other kids. The older one had more to deal with as she felt apart and different yet sensitive enough to feel sad!
Once again this vindicated my view of the necessity of a common school to bridge the now glaring gap between the two Indias.
by Anuradha Bakshi | Feb 12, 2007 | two indias
A journalist from a leading western newspaper dropped by last week. She was researching an article on the impact of globalisation on the other side of India. She had visited some of the slum resettlement sites and expressed her indignation at the state of these rapidly set up spaces devoid of every basic need; water, schools, dispensaries etc. and wanted to know my views on the subject.
After she left I sat down for a long time trying to process what we had shared in those two hours and what I had experienced in the past years.
Globalisation has hit India. It is visible in the proliferation of swanky stores that sell everything you can dream of provided you face the money. I recall the days when one carefully made lists handed over to people who were going abroad. If I were to make a list today I wonder what it would contain.
Globalisation has hit India as is evident in the number of plastic pouches you see strewn on the streets of any slum: shampoos and shaving creams, detergent and hair conditioner, sauces and jams, coffee and you name it. A few years back the only pouches you saw were those of tobacco related ware.
Globalisation has hit India as foreign companies and MNCs realise the mind boggling size and buying power of this new market. To tap the size you need to flood the market with bite size goods at bite size prices, and as far as the other side of spectrum is concerned there is no limit.
Globalisation has hit India as is evident by the number of malls that are mushrooming everywhere: I even saw some being planned in lush fields that can only be reached today by a single track dirt road.
Globalisation has hit India as is seen in the multitude of gleaming bikes in slums and the variety of new cars in the now legendary traffic jams. Never mind if the bikes have been paid for by plastic money
Globalisation has hit India as is evident in the re-planning of this city where the planners in their hurry seem to have forgotten every rule in the book. An underpass imperils an age old heritage monument whereas a proposed games village threatens to choke an already dying river. And just today a building in a resettlement colony collapsed killing many people as its foundations had weakened following an unplanned and hurried demolition drive.
To many globalisation and liberalisation are welcome practices if India is to become a world class nation. But the way it is happening is wrought with dangers we may not be able to see at present. One of the most glaring effect seems to be on the increased gap between the two Indias where if one India is shining if not dazzling, the other is being pushed into further darkness. This may not be apparent to all, but our journalist did feel the need to add to every article she wrote on the shining India, a few words to temper the mood with references to the other India.
The writing is on the wall but we have lost the ability or sensitivity to see it. Plastic money that now inundates slums heralds the recovery nightmare and probable suicides. Pouches that strew slum lanes are slowly choking the city with apocalyptic consequences. The banning of street vendors, neighborhood trades and small shops will lead to increased unemployment and threaten the safety of the city. Slums relocated miles away will result in more kids being denied education and more people losing their livelihood.
Globalisation has hit India but unless we tailor it to our needs it may become a hydra headed monster difficult to tame. I recently met DK Matai ACTA is an initiative aimed at addressing these very challenges in a global way. But each one of us can and needs to address them too, and the least we can do is become aware of the flip side of the coin.
As I have written many times before, reaching out to the less privileged is no more an act of charity but an investment in the morrows of our children. One has to become sensitive to the reality that globalisation cannot be at any price.
I gall when I see the price tag attached to some of the items in luxury stores: a hand bag at 30K or ten months of salary at a minimum wage does not ring right. The urban poor cannot be wished away, they stand at our door step with the same dreams as ours.
Globalisation yes, but not at any price!
by Anuradha Bakshi | Feb 8, 2007 | Uncategorized
One will spend life in jail, the other is waiting for the gallows. They both thought that their political connections could give them licence to kill and get away with murder. But they did not. Public opinion ensured that and Jessica Lal and Priyadarshini Matoo got justice at last.
In September a professor was killed in front of hundred of people. Only 4 came forward and I remember writing about one of the them as in him one saw hope as he stood by what he believed was right. In the TV interview aired then he did mention his fears. At that time he was given police protection and we all hoped against hope that he would testify.
Yesterday all the four witnesses turned hostile, including Komal Singh Senger. Today the key accused moved the High Court for bail. In five months the powers that be had fixed every thing.
Original video tapes were doctored, and the prosecution’s case was full of glaring lapses. Now the family’s only hope is that the case is handed over to the CBI.
It all looks like a repeat of the previous cases.
Though many may blame the four witnesses there are a few questions that come to mind. Here again it was a murder that took place in a crowd that had professors, students, political leaders and many others, yet the witnesses were all simple peons. Wonder what happened to all the others. In September footage of the beating was aired over and over again by all channels. The final footage shown during proceedings omitted crucial scenes. Witnesses who should have been protected were left to their own devices and at the mercy of political goons. Wonder what threats or lollies were proffered.
The family has given up hope. Will public opinion rise again and see that justice is done. Seems a sad reflection of the reality we live in if in every single case justice will depend on whether the media will start a campaign or not.
Where is ou collective conscience gone? Don’t we realise that this can happen to one of us?
by Anuradha Bakshi | Feb 7, 2007 | Uncategorized
Many years back, when the first fast food outlet opened in Delhi – I think it was a pizza something – I told many friends that they would never be able to compete with our own desi brand of fast foods: the zingy chats, piping hot samosas, delectable and sinful poories and melting hot jalebis -. Ask any LSR student of yore years about the gooey peas chat – mattar chat -and you will be treated to a Proustian expression. And how can we forget the oily but scrumptious bun omelet that has satiated many a hungry student.
Street food has been a tradition in Delhi, one that has withstood the test of time. An interesting outcome of globalisation is this tradition as now you can have chowmein, and momos and swharma at any street corner in India’s capital city. Just a few years back one had to make a trip to Delhi Haat to have a plate of momos, now we just walk down the street from our Govindpuri centre and get them.
This is post is not a trip down memory lane, neither is it a gastronomic review. It is an appeal to the powers that be not to take away the soul of our city and leave us rudderless as today’s papers rung the death knell of one of the oldest institutions of this city.
Street food is the grand old tradition in Delhi from the times when Kkhomchewallahs (street vendors) used to come to one’s doorstep to sell all kinds of snacks, chaats, ice creams, sweets and more. And yet the Supreme Court has decreed their demise. With a stroke of the pen our highest judicial body has wiped away an age old way of life. The erstwhile street vendors are now to be replaced by pre packed food. Just imagining a cold chola bhatura makes me lose my appetite.
True that hygiene is sometimes not quite up to the mark, but it is also the case in outlets that run from kiosks. Those who have been to Nehru Place must have seen how food outlets operate even though they run from supposedly legal spaces. Somehow the planners forgot simple things like water points!
But there is also a grimmer side to this decision. If street vendors are not allowed to operate many people will lose their jobs and many families will sleep hungry. On the other hand the popularity of these vendors is visible and one wonders where the people who eat there will go.
Just down our gali is a man who sells hot poories and lovely potato subzi. A plate of 5 poories, subzi and a bit of curd comes for 6 rs. Every morning as we drive by the smell of the poories is enticing. The place is crowded with young office goers who have no families, workers, auto richshaw drivers and others busy gobbling their hot morning breakfast. I must confess that I too have succumbed to the temptation and partaken of the treat many times.
The decision to have these vendors only sell food cooked at home and wrapped in some plastic container is the pits. Once again we have been struck by the now sated option that our administrators have made theirs: rather than face problems and find solutions, pass them on or do away with the problem altogether.
In the frenzied rush to make Delhi another Singapore or Shanghai, one cannot forget the millions who serve this city and ensure it runs. One cannot wish away people and institutions that have survived many a storm. They have to remain as they give the city an identity. Imagine Paris without roasted chestnuts, or Singapore without the morning soup vendors. What needs to be done is ensure stringent regulations, subject vendors to rigorous testing and give them assigned space. But do not subject us to cold samosas or pre-packed chat! Our desi fast food can compete with any burger giant if it is allowed to survive!
by Anuradha Bakshi | Feb 5, 2007 | Uncategorized
I cannot remember when I last stepped off the whirling world to take a breath and muse over days gone by. Life went on at a frenzied pace and there never seemed to be time to take a pause and cast the much needed critical look.
One may wonder what set off these musings. Simply an empty inbox on my screen.
For the first time in many years did I wake up to an unread (0) status on my email. This triggered a series of questions in my mind and to answer them I realised that one had to take a pause and look back.
The past year has been a rewarding one, when many obstacles were cleared and life set on an even keel. It was a year when many little broken hearts got fixed, when a little boy and his mom were rescued from a life of hell. It was also a year when pwhy took on a new role and reached out to free little girls from the hands of their abuser, a year when a little boy defeated all medical rules and sprung back to life. It was also a year when new friends came forward to support us; a year when we even got our own little building and began a new centre. A year to be celebrated and feted.
It is true that many of the things mentioned above were already being done but the difference this time is that it all came easy. I remember with a tinge of regret the days when every new programme was a challenge. I remember with nostalgia how every tiny need entailed hordes of emailing and was gathered painstakingly cent by cent. I also recall the abundance of mails of support one got and the immense positive energy generated, the thrill one felt when someone committed some support however infinitesimal.
And today an empty mailbox that speaks volumes. Am I being once again faced with a new avatar of the dreaded comfort zone syndrome. Maybe. But this is one I need to fight to the hilt as it may sound the death knell of the very essence of pwhy.
Pwhy could only happen because so many people across the globe came together and infused it with life. Pwhy could succeed because of the immense support I got each and every time I sought it. And no matter how easy seeking funds becomes, pwy can exist if and only if it continues to get the love and goodwill of people.
There can no more be empty inboxes as money alone can never sustain pwhy. After all pwhy is just a simple love story.
