by Anuradha Bakshi | Mar 9, 2007 | two indias
remember these girls? Maybe not as our memories are short, and images get blurred or overtaken by others ones, particularly when the issue is not directly related to our lives.
Let me refresh your memories. these little girls are some of the children that invaded the privacy of our homes some months back as we all watched in temporary horror the plight of the 50 0dd girls who had been mercilessly abused by their holy caretaker.
For some time they made news till another horrific incident pushed them away. They made news till the administrative and judicial took over and locked them in another structure protected by impregnable walls. For some time we tried to keep their memory alive by trying to create a net support group but that too lost its drive as the girls seemed lost in some forbidden fortress.
One could not and did not give up. We tried relentlessly to find their whereabouts often without success till yesterday when this mail dropped in my inbox. It came from Anchal the young reporter who had broken the story:
hi there..
long time..
just got back from bareilly.. leaving for mathura tommorrow..
the girls have been shifted to mathura, bareilly, lucknow and meerut.. to the suitable? homes..
GOOD THINGS:
the girls are much better off..
no exploitation or abuse..
regular doctor..
loving and caring caretaker.. not all of them are very sensitive.. harmless though..
are taught dancing.. singing..
PROBLEMS:
[1] the standard se for homes is just not good enough..
[2] no education facility..
[3] our effort should be to cure them.. no effort in that direction..
[4] they need better beds.. even in the berilly home they sleep on the wooden cot..
[5] they are kept clean but better toilets desperately needed..
[6] they are never taken out… authorities fear that they might run off and put them in trouble.. they don’t have a proper vehicle and security..
met NHRC and lawyers today..
it would be great if we can mobilise people and motivate them to donate..
would be filing a complete story soon.. in about a day or two.. will let u know.. catch it.. will do it right before the next SC hearing.. shd.. do the mobilising then.. for larger impact..
here’s my number: 9873139409..
13 girls in: nari–niketan.. bareilly..
27 in mathura..
some in kids in lucknow..
and are getting primary education.
the swami is stil in jail
I think it is time we wake up and do something. It is not a matter of charity but a way to redeem ourselves in our own eyes!
by Anuradha Bakshi | Mar 7, 2007 | Uncategorized
Today was a special treat. A visit to Utpal’s school. Rishi was kind enough to set aside the rules to allow Xavier, Utpal’s cyberDad, a few stolen moments with the one he calls pepere in spite of the fact that school examinations were on.
It was a warm afternoon just tempered by a cool wind. We reached the school at 4pm shortly after the mandatory afternoon nap. We sat quietly in the Directors room though our hearts were beating a tad faster as we held back the question we were dying to ask : where is Utpal?
A few moments later a quit knock of the forbidding door and our little fellow appeared squeaky clean, in his track suit his hair well oiled and combed to a T. We sat in silence as he tiptoed in and stood near us. To Xavier’s how are you Utpal echoed a confident fine thank you Sir. Then after some time Utpal sought Rishi’s permission to show Javire the school, and off we went dying to be in a spot where we could finally hug him.
After a while Xavier fished out a little key chain with an Eiffel Tower and gave it to him. Utpal kept it in his hand as we ambled around the school. Then it was time to leave. In a quiet voice Utpal said: can I have another mandir (temple) for my friend?
It took us a minute to realise that the mandir he was referring to was the Eiffel Tower? He got one and walked away, without looking back as I wiped a silent tear from the corner of my eye.
by Anuradha Bakshi | Mar 6, 2007 | Uncategorized
Once again, on a fine morning the students and staff of pwhy were greeted by a gaping hole in the wall of our Okhla centre. This is not the first time and probably not the last. Wonder who did it, some drunken lads for a bit of fun or some mischief maker. Who knows, and come to think about it who cares..
The Okhla lot are used to such acts and what caused anger and hurt at one time has almost become a game. No mason or expert is needed. The morning after the incident students carefully pick all the bricks and keep them safely inside the classroom. A call is made to the office to get the required amount of cement and the kids get down to the task of repairing the damage while onlookers watch them and perhaps amongst them those who committed the misdeed.
My heart fills with pride as I watch the kids at work as more than anything taught in books, they have learnt a great lesson in life: not to be deterred by acts committed by cowards.
by Anuradha Bakshi | Mar 5, 2007 | two indias
Two deaths were reported in the press yesterday: one on the front page and the other in an inside one. Both were heinous crimes. Both stemmed out of some unfathomable quirk of the mind.
In one a ‘servant’ had simply killed a young boy and an old relative of the house he had worked in for 5 years for a few pennies. In the other a woman had hit her girl servant with a laundry bat resulting in her death.
These two incidents could be dismissed with the usual fleeting moment of sympathy or stupefaction and that is what most would have done. However if one dwells on them for some time, one realises that these extreme actions could well stem out of the endemic mistrust that is more and more prevalent between what I often refer to as the two Indias.
Over the years I have witnessed the rising contempt with which people who work for you are treated. A series of sad incidents have resulted in campaigns aimed at branding all house workers as probable suspects to be verified by the police. Often this leads to sweeping remarks about the origins of such people as is heard in the: I never employ someone from Bihar, Bengal or whatever else, in many a coffee mornings.
I myself shudder when pwhy kids refer to their pals as Biharis and cannot hide my smile when I retort : I too am a Bihari!
Coming back to the two incidents one may let one’s mind wander and imagine possible scenarios. In case 1 the 5 year old servant is said to have killed for money. Wonder whether he had asked for a loan and been rebuffed, or wonder whether he had been verbally abused or ill treated. In case 2 one can also ask one’s self what the young girl did to provoke such rage; did she burn an expensive outfit, or leave stains on a garment she had washed. To take the matter further one can ask whether the reactions would have been the same if the two protagonists had belonged to the same side of the fence: had the daughter burnt the garment or the son asked for a loan?
Justice will have to take its course and I hope that it will be as severe in both cases. But what is more important is to try and see why such incidents occur and to try and find long term solutions that are equitable. Branding all of one side of the fence will just lead to widening an already cavernous gap between the two Indias. We need to build bridges of trust and understanding, to share a little of what one has in plenty as only then will our morrows be safe.
by Anuradha Bakshi | Mar 4, 2007 | Uncategorized
In trying to explain the significance of holi to my foreign son-in-law I found myself searching the net as my knowlede did not go beyond the Prahlad-Hollika story. On this site, I read the follwoing: Originally the festival was primarily for the Shudras who were otherwise not allowed to participate in festivals. In ancient India too, this festival was celebrated as a day when people forgot caste and gender differences and were allowed many liberties, otherwise forbidden.
I do have vague memories of my childhood in my grandfather’s home when on that day those who worked in the house joined everyone in the lawns where holi was celebrated with great gusto. Flowers had been soaked overnight to provide a wonderful yellow brew, and colours were natural, sweets had been made at home too and many sherbets cooled in earthen pots. Some were forbidden to us ; guess they were the ones laced with bhang.
Then Holi became a day one dreaded as chemical colors, and all the filth imaginable were hurled at you even days before the festival. Like most festivals, the essence was forgotten.
I was glad to reconnect with the meaning of the festival and was happy to see that the little band that played holi in my garden reflected just that essence as all the Indias not to say the world were united in fun and spirit.
