by Anuradha Bakshi | Feb 4, 2008 | Uncategorized
Sunday was truly staggering in more ways than one. On the way back from Utpal’s school I banged my head on the edge of the car door and it was a stunning blow. Somehow it was ominous in more ways than one.
As I lay down to catch a few minutes of respite I switched on the TV hoping it would provide the needed escape. It was a news channel and as usual the topic was the ongoing cricket controversies. I laid down with my eyes shut barely listening to the droning voice of the newsreader. The news item changed and I sat up in horror as the story of a seven year old being brutally beaten by a mob filled the air. My blood ran cold. The child, just a baby, was tied to a pole, trashed without mercy and stripped while the crowd jeered.
My thoughts went back to an incident that had occurred a few months back and that I had written about though sadly many had not understood why the plight of that woman had shaken me and disturbed me. An ugly spat had ensued on the comment box and that disturbed me to the the extent that I stopped writing about such issues.
Yet the sight of this child made me cringe and brought back all the repressed feelings. What have we become and I say we as can one afford the comfort of excluding one’s selves from the mob that carried out that abhorrent act? It is a reflection of the society we have become and a shame. How can anyone allow such a thing to happen; how can anyone watch a small child being subjected to such humiliation and pain and stand still? A seven year old is a baby, a tender being that needs protection, care and nurturing. Any child that age can err; what he needs is someone to show him right from wrong.
My thoughts went back to an incident that occurred many years back when we had just begun our work. Two small boys, about 6 or 7, where often jeered and threated as thieves. Their misdemeanor was to steal a few coins from the local temple. Both hailed from poor dysfunctional families, their mothers in the village and their fathers brutal drunks. They were sweet boys, one with a severe handicap. I sat down with them one day and asked them why they took money from the temple: they looked at me with broad smiles and answered in unison: to buy chocolates! I gave them some coins and asked them to go and buy the said chocolates and show it to me. They dashed off and came back with a tiny packet of corn puffs. That was what they called chocolate. I told them not to take money from the temple but to come to me whenever they wanted chocolate and I would give them the money to buy it. Unlike what many would have believed, they never came everyday, but sometimes when they felt like a bag of corn chips.
I wonder what the little 7 year old from a little village in Bengal wanted as he set about opening a tool box? Maybe just a small treat, something every child is entitled to. Was there no one in that jeering mob that could have reached out to the child and asked him why he was stealing? Was there any justification at all to beat the child, strip and humiliate him in public? What makes us behave ion such a repugnant manner? Where are all the values we love brandishing at the drop of a hat? I cannot begin to imagine what that little child must have felt for that interminable hour? Which God did he pray to? Was that God listening? I cannot begin to imagine what scars the child will carry for the rest of his life?
What gives us the right to act in such a way? I have no answers. I just hang my head in shame.
by Anuradha Bakshi | Feb 4, 2008 | Uncategorized
Normally the first Sundays of every month are special. This is the day when the motley crew that goes under the name of ‘Utpal’s parents’ sets out for the long drive to his school and spends time with him. Every month the set of parents is different – barring a few constants – and comes from all walks of life and the world over. This Sunday too his family extended from the US to India via Italy and France!
The day was to be special as we were also planning to visit our new plot of land. After a quick visit to the school we spent some time at the site and then set off to give Mr P his monthly treat. This time after much deliberation it was to be a new mall! After a long drive and a longer wait at the new toll highway we reached the said mall. It was a strange experience as we strolled along Kafkaesque corridors interspersed with newly opened stores.
At last we found a place to eat and later the children play area. The children had their fill of games but somehow the mood was not right as Utpal kept clutching to my hand and refusing to leave me though he had to go back to school in another car. He was unusually stubborn and would not listen to any coaxing. I sat with him on a bench trying to talk to him but to no avail. It was heart wrenching as he does not normally behave that way.
I did not want to leave him and could feel my eyes welling up with tears. He looked up and saw my face and sensing my pain he just walked away towards the waiting car, clutching the little bag filled with the goodies he had bought. I just watched him walk away, wondering what was going on in his little head and not finding the answers that would quieten my mind.
We drove back in silence. I had been deeply disturbed by Utpal’s behaviour and wondered what had caused it. What had he been trying to convey? Why was I not able to sense what ailed him?
A plethora of questions crowded my mind each needing an answer but none forthcoming. Some pertained to Utpal only but others took on a wider connotation and I thought of all the little ones who would soon be in our care, each one needing much more than one could even begin to anticipate.
As long as they were left in their world, however dark and abysmal, they were protected by the ways of that very world, but once you took them away things were bound to change. With each step they take on this new journey,will come new dreams, new hopes but also new pain, grief and hurt. As they reclaim their right to be children they will need the protection and care till now denied to them in their world where all one does is simply survive. And we as adults have to play by the rules.
Is that what Utpal was trying to tell me in his own way?
by Anuradha Bakshi | Feb 2, 2008 | fostercare
When one embarks on a new journey one is always a little scared and a tad nervous particularly if one is an adult and the journey is somewhat uncharted. It is not so with children. For them everything new is a thrilling adventure be it a walk to the nearby park or cruise around the world.
This indubitable yet oft forgotten truth was brought to the fore as I watched three of the little pioneers of our foster care cum scholarship programme have their first ever class with Andy Bhaiyya. If one needed any reassurance about the worth of this programme, a single look at these children was ample proof that we were on the right track.
Just a week back these little souls lived their run-of-the-mill existence. A few hours at project why and then back to their tiny homes where life was not easy particularly in the bitter cold. For little Babli it was even worse as she went to a school where no teacher ever taught and her dreams of becoming a police seemed thwarted with obsessive regularity.
So when we decided to give her this chance she grabbed it with both hands and her eagerness to do everything well was palpable as she took on the role of the elder in the tiny group. And while we are still planning and fine tuning matters, our little pioneers are already on the way, their hunger for knowledge reflected in their eager looks and trusting eyes.
God bless them and walk with them…
