by Anuradha Bakshi | Jul 20, 2008 | two indias
The rise in the crime graph of our city is cause of concern. Delhi today is a megalopolis. With 13 million inhabitants in 2001, we must now be hovering around 18 million, thus being the most populous city. 700 new migrants arrive each day and 600 babies are born every day. By 2015, Delhi is expected to be the second largest agglomeration in the world after Tokyo.
In 2005, (according to the wikipedia)Delhi accounted for the highest percentage (16.2%) of the crimes reported in the 35 cities in India with populations of one million or more. The city also has the highest rate of crime against women (27.6 compared to national average rate of 14.1 per 100,000) and against children (6.5 compared to national average of 1.4 per 100,000) in the country.
Not pretty statistics! And the list goes on: over 8% of Delhi’s population lives below the poverty line and many more barely survive. The galloping inflation rate is just making it worse. The city is bursting at its seams but no one seems to be aware. Quite the contrary. What is visible is a frenzied growth that defeats all logic: new malls, roads, buildings, housing colonies. each requiring its pound of flesh (read electricity, water, hospitals et al).
Whereas for some life is shining (to use a now well known and sated expression) for others it is getting worse by the day and in the wake of this crime is on a spiraling rise. And why not, as hopes and dreams larger than life grow illogically fueled by images and campaigns. The past days has seen the birth of bikers gang and they are on a rampage. The mood is one where everyone wants his place in the sun now and at whatever cost.
The police and authorities are and will remain helpless as they can only intervene after the act. What is needed is to try and comprehend why this is happening. I was recently introduced to the Capability Approach mooted by Amartya Sen and Martha Nussbaum that aims at evaluating social states in terms of well being (welfare) rather than resources (income, assets). Though I am still in the process of understanding this approach, what strikes me is the fact that we often tend to equate poverty simply to absence of money and everyone particularly the deprived is convinced that access to money will resolve all issues.
In the line of such thought the recent access to credit that the poor now have courtesy multinational banks and their financial franchisees, is just adding to the mess. In their frenzied attempt to rope in more and more consumers, such institutions bypass rules for a pocketful of coins. A happy individual gets his loan without understanding the real implications and the seeds of disaster have been sown. Bikes and cars now abound in the narrow lanes of Delhi’s slums. TVs blare in each and every home peddling dreams and false hope. Everything seems possible in this new India which seems to shine for all. What one tends to forget is that for some the sparkle is illusory.
In this almost hubristic environment where even Gods need to be defied, crime proliferates. Reason has been sacrificed at the alter of desires and wants. The shining India beckons all. Education that could have applied a moderating influence has also been hijacked along the way. At one end it reiterates the message of plenty whereas at the other it reinforces the reality of its absence. Moderation, temperance, patience are virtues of another era.
Times are ripe for all kind of short cuts, crime being one of them. Our society is truly sick and it is time we addressed the situation and found the elusive remedy.
by Anuradha Bakshi | Jul 17, 2008 | Uncategorized
I normally do not watch TV in the early evening. I was busy with the usual evening chores and had to go to my daughter’s room. The TV was on. A local metro channel diffusing its evening news. I was about to mouth the question I had come to ask but was stopped short as I heard the voice of the newscaster recounting an incident where a young girl had been humiliated in a nearby suburban school. All chores forgotten I just watched.
A young girl had been punished by her teacher for not being up to the market in class. The teacher who seemed to belong to some ante deluvial time had chosen to write in black soot across the face of the child the following words: I am not good in my studies, and then paraded the child across the school. The teacher of course had threatened the girl of dire circumstances were she to tell her parents about the incident. The young girl had not murmured a word. However the next day she had refused to go to school. Seeing the angst on her face the parents coaxed the child to reveal what was wrong. She ultimately did.
The parents went to the school authorities and the police playing the scene according to script. The teacher was suspended and further action may follow but will and can it wipe of the hurt the child suffered, the invisible scars seared on the girl’s soul that no one can see let alone heal. No matter what punishment will be meted out to the erring school teacher, no matter the profuse apologies tended, no matter the words proffered to sooth the hurt child, the harm is done. This young girl will bear the hurt of this humiliation for a life time. It may be forgotten in good times, if good times there are but will come back to haunt her each time life poses a problem. Public humiliation is by far one of the worst form of retribution, one that cannot be meted out to a child by anyone, let alone a teacher.
This incident makes one go back to Dickensian days of Dunce tables and Dunce caps. Lot of water has flowed since those days or so we thought. But an occurrence like this one makes us wonder whether times have truly changed.
But if that was not enough another horror that befell a tiny 9 year old came to light. A little class IV girl had been raped in the toilet of her school in broad daylight. As I write these words the follow up drama is in full swing. Enquiries, suspension, political condemnations, financial assistance and the much sought headlines. But my heart goes out to the little girl who has been scarred for life. Such incidents leave deep lifelong invisible scars not only on the body but on the soul of the victim. And if that was not enough, one must not forget that we live in an insensitive and biased society where far too often the victim is made to feel guilty.
I can only once again recount the plight of C, now 17, a past student of ours who was raped at the age of 4 by a neighbour. The rape was so violent that the child had to have a hysterectomy. The rapist did his time in jail. C grew up but . As a teenager she found herself ostracised by her peers and their families and labeled as the girl who had been raped.
Child rape is something abhorrent. I have no words to condemn it as everyone falls terribly short of what I want to express. I cannot begin to understand why an adult feels the need to violate a child. I look helpless at the impotent laws that far from protecting the victim seem to benefit the perpetrators with impunity.
In all the hullabaloo that normally follows incidents like the ones above, two little girls are suffering in silence. And no one seems to be concerned. They belong to homes where child psychology and post trauma stress are unknown. They belong to families who are simply busy surviving. They will have to find their healing alone, if healing there is.
At this times one can but remember the words of Herbert Ward: “Child abuse casts a shadow the length of a lifetime.”
by Anuradha Bakshi | Jul 15, 2008 | okhla
A single day is enough to make us a little larger or, another time, a little smaller said Paul Klee. We must be blessed as each day at pwhy make us feel more than a little larger though we sometimes do not take time to realise this. I often get emails reminding me that I have not shared the day-to-day happenings of project why and I must admit I stand guilty.
The past months have been hectic in more ways than one and somehow one simply forgot to pause and savour the incredible satisfaction that comes from just watching the on goings of a day at project why. Today let us do just that
Come 8.30 am and pwhy is already buzzing with activity. It is the time when staff drops by the tiny office perched on the second floor of our little building. Time to sign the attendance register and say a quick hello before rushing to the workplace. For some it is simply a few steps away, for others a walk or even a bus ride. It is immensely satisfying to watch our little team take off with confidence and purpose and to remember that once not so long go most of them were barely surviving. These days are a tad special as we have lots of volunteers, each assigned to various posts and thus each teacher also takes his or her volunteer along. Another occasion to give one a pat on the back as one sees people that nothing links together – neither land, nor language- walk off together often deep in conversation. I would give a hand and a foot to be privy to those instants.
While all this is going on the shrill horn of the first three wheeler bringing the children is heard. It is the merry band of the special section that has arrived. Its is heartwarming to watch them as they scuttle out of the tiny vehicle, each one helping the other. Soon the room on the ground floor is buzzing with activity as bags are kept away and mats set out for the first activity of the morning: exercises. Very often the children of the special section launch their day themselves as their routine is well set and they are a very independent lot.
A wail is heard on the first floor heralding the arrival of some tiny tot in the creche. It is amusing to see some kids insisting on crying their hearts out as they are parted form their parent not matter how long they have been attending the creche. Needless to say that the wail turns into a huge giggle moments later as they find their friends and toys. The next hour or so sees the same pattern as kids keep arriving. Soon the second three wheeler reaches and over twenty toddlers spill out of the small vehicle. It is always a delight to watch them as they patiently wait for their bags or for the lost shoe! Some time later the air is filed with song as the little ones settle to their morning routine.
Across the street in the two tiny rooms we have hired the older toddlers begin their day too. Their little desks and chairs are laid out and they soon are busy pencil in hand and tongues poking mastering the letter of the day. In the room next door the boys of the junior secondary have also arrived and are intently following the subject of the day.
At some distance the three primary centres of Okhla, Govinpuri and Sanjay Colony have also begun their activities each following a well set routine under the guidance of their set of teachers. And still further away the creche and primary and secondary classes of the women centre are also underway as are the secondary classes and the computer centre. Morning has begun at project why.
All this may seem terribly unremarkable and one could wonder why one is making such a fuss about it. I agree that at first sight there is nothing extraordinary about a bunch of teachers teaching a bunch of kids. But here again I ask you to see with your hart and not your eyes. Most of the kids you see be it in the special section, or in the creche or even in other classes are not your regular kid next door. They come from extremely deprived backgrounds and for them pwhy is a haven in more ways than one. It is perhaps the only space where for a few hours they can be just children.
For the older children pwhy is the place where they can actually learn all that is left untaught in school and thus aspire to make it to the next class and then the next and thus one day be able to get the much needed school leaving certificate and maybe aspire to a life a tad better than the one lived by their parents.
And thus as a seemingly commonplace day goes by, lives are being slowly and quietly transformed.
by Anuradha Bakshi | Jul 14, 2008 | Uncategorized
A room without books is like a body without a soul said Cicero over two thousand years ago. Belonging to a generation where books were possibly our only real entertainment I readily second that. Then over the years, books played second fiddle to the new entertainment star the TV and then slowly third fiddle till they were relegated to the back row of the orchestra as an instrument barely played let alone heard.
I must admit that I never stopped reading though I must also confess that I was not able to instill this passion in others in my family. I lost the battle to the ever growing presence of the idiot box and its various courtesans – namely the remote control, the VCR, VCD and all else. Book reading for many just seemed a chore and a bore.
When project why began and before I was initiated to the reality of the school scenario in India, I had wanted pwhy to be a place where children could come after school and spend quality time. One of the things I wanted in pwhy was a library with an abundance of books so that children could be made aware of the magic of the written words. Like Skinner I too believed that we shouldn’t teach great books; we should teach a love of reading, as therein lay true education. But soon enough the dream of pwhy being a children centre replete with books, toys and games took a back seat as we were faced with alarming drop out rates, failing in school and the uncompromising abhorrence of parents to creative pursuits.
Reality moulded us into a school support centre where creativity had scant place. Books were only those taught in school and the few that found their way sat quietly in some dark corner, too few to make their presence felt. Even when we felt the need to have books – for the smaller kids at least – the cost itself ensured that there was never a book per child. The dream I once had seemed farther then ever.
Then one day a few months back I received an email from Willy of the Omprakash Foundation. It was I must confess mind boggling as it talked of sending tens of thousands of books to several projects in India and sought my help. And though the task was daunting and way off our beat, the fact that it concerned books made me accept readily. I guess that if it had been clothes or something else, I would have beaten a hasty retreat!
What followed was a journey into uncharted territory, one that was sometimes quite harrowing as we battled administrative and other blocks. But one did not give up and last week the consignment reached Delhi. Thanks heaven our friends from Omprakash Foundation were there too and afer some minor and sometimes amusing hurdles we at project why got not one, or ten or even hundred but twenty thousand books!
Though many still lie in boxes waiting for space, each of our centres now has books, either on a shelf when space permits or in a trunk and the children are for the first time in their lives discovering the magic of holding a book. It has been pure magic as they dive onto the trunks and retrieve books then go about flipping pages. The excitement is palpable whatever the age as they share what they see or even fight for a particular one. The teachers too are excited and planning new activities around they newly acquired treasure.
I watched all this with a sense of satisfaction and some glee. Somehow a long forgotten and almost lost dream seemed once again possible. The presence of so many books had suddenly made my dream of a children centre possible. It was time to fine tune the idea.
Ther soon will be a weekly library period in the time table. I remembered Willy telling me that in his school there was a moment called DEAR (Drop Everything And Read). Perhaps we too will have that at pwhy some day.
Some time back a friend sent me link about a new library fad whereby you borrowed a person not a book. Somehow it did not seem exciting to me. I also remember how moved I had been by Fahrenheit 451 the brilliant Truffaut film about a world without books. For me books remain a very important part of my life and high up on the list of my favourite things.
I hope that now they can also become part of the lives of the project why children.
by Anuradha Bakshi | Jul 11, 2008 | Uncategorized
A news item on a leading TV channel caught my eye yesterday. In spite of girls performing better in schools at every level, the number of girls joining the English medium stream in local government schools is still small. The reluctance according to a secondary school principal comes from the parents. In spite of the fact that their daughters have good marks, parents are often disinclined to see them join this stream. On the other hand they are insistent upon their son doing so, even if his performance is poor.
Another sad tale of gender bias that seems to pervade every inch of our social fabric. Though reasons for such a behaviour were not spelt out, one can easily guess them. Girls are simply meant to be married and the less they know the easier things become. Too much education may just make them too difficult to handle.
Gender bias in present in each and every moment of a girl’s life, even before she is born. The sex ratio figures are ample proof of the number of girls that are denied the right to be born. It is believed that over 24 000 girls go missing every year in India’s capital city. And even after they are born girls do not get the same deal as their male siblings. I have often written about the plight of the girl child as about possible ways out. I have often felt at a total loss when in spite of all our efforts we have been unable to help a girl child. I have often sunk into despair at the deafening whys that have no answers.
We have over the past years tried to convey to parents that there is no difference between a boy and a girl but it seems that things have not changed. As I write these words I ask myself whether really have the right to proffer words of advice knowing that the reality on the ground has not changed. Girls are still considered a millstone as they need to be married and marriage costs more than one has. I refuse to believe that girls are not loved per se. It is the social burden that the presence of a girl in the family entails that causes people to shun the. Or to look at the coin from the flip side it is the lure of what a boy can bring in that makes people want them.
The bottom line still lies in changing customs and mores. Easier said than done. Customs and mores are deeply ingrained in our atavistic past. To change them requires not laws and sanctions but perhaps intervention from religious heads and social leaders. It also requires every one to walk the talk. Till then little girls will not get the same education, the same clothes, the same food or the same care as the one given unabashedly and without restraint to their male siblings.
