So finally the powers that be concede that malnutrition is a national shame! It took them a hell of a long time to do so. I have been harping about this for as long as I can remember. In an incisive article title Many mouths to feed, Annie Zaidi asks the disturbing and yet pertinent question: Do all Indians deserve to eat? Or do we believe that some of us deserve bottled water and broadband and truffles while some of us starve? The answer has to be a screaming YES! All 1,180,285,856 of us deserve to eat.

The recent HUGaMA report revealed some disturbing statistics: 60 % of the children suffer from some degree of malnutrition and 92% of the mothers surveyed had never heard of malnutrition. And how can we forget the most shocking statistic of all: 5000 children dying every day of malnutrition!

Now if we do believe that all Indians deserve to eat at least two square hot meals a day then why don’t we get riled at such statistics! Why do we not stop and think while serving ourselves large plates of food at the lavish parties we attend. Why don’t we see all the food that goes in our dustbins and that is still perfectly edible and ponder? Why are we so inured to glaring disparities that stare us at the face each and every day: children begging, people rummaging for food in garbage dumps, people sleeping in the freezing cold. I do not know the answers. I only know that such matters make my blood run cold and boil at the same time. I am also at a loss to understand why the so called well to do, intelligent and educated citizens of our country do not raise their voice as they did on the matter of corruption and the much talked about Lok Pal bill.

Millions do not get even a square meal a day. Millions of our children are stunted and malnourished. At the same time unimaginable amounts of food grain rot every year. Something is so very wrong and yet we remain mute and aloof.

The powers that be however are on the prowl and have sensed a good way to appease a public reeling under food rise and inflation. Why not push the Food Security Bill. It will have the much needed feelgood factor. But beware the said bill has a huge flow: though it legislates for specific amounts of food grains to be distributed to needy families, it lacks detail on how it plans to ensure this allocation.

According to a well written article without paying attention to effective distribution, the bill will simply exacerbate the problem of food wastage while millions continue to starve. Would it be impertinent to add: whilst many will find new ways of lining their bottomless pockets. Moreover according to the same article the bill will not uplift the rural population and actually hurt the farmer.

Wonder why? Another article gives a very precise example of how the true beneficiaries will fall out of the net courtesy the famed Socio Economic and Caste Census which is a mockery of the poor. If you have a mud house but it has a tarpaulin you fall off the net. Or what about this exmaple: Nani Devi, a 60-year-old  lives with her husband in a kuccha room house in Purohitaan village in Jaipur district. She has three sons, but all of them live separately and do not support them. The illiterate couple who belong to Scheduled Caste category has got a job card and is beneficiary under MGNREGA, but old age does not allow them to work much. They too will not get the famed BPL card and thus access to cheaper food.

Yet in all likelihood the bill will be passed as it is the pet project of the real powers that be and no political party would dare oppose it as it may anger the poor who see it as a panacea to all ills and are not able to understand the flaws and drawbacks. It seems to answer the very question stated at the beginning of this piece: do all Indians deserve to eat? And if the answer is yes, then it is time we found our selfish voices and did something. But will we? That remains the question.

The government is busy pushing a bill that will ensure that no one in our country goes hungry. This should be a wow moment for all as the 5000+ kids who die every day of malnutrition is a statistic we can well do without. The effort should be applauded as it would ensure that mothers need not stuff their children’s mouth with chili to ensure they drink a lot of water and hence do not feel hunger pangs, that no 5 year old look like a 2 year old. But somehow it does not fell right. What comes to mind is that it will be just another way for corrupt beings to fill their pockets. Had the now ageing ICDS scheme worked then no one below 30 should have been malnourished. We all know who the real beneficiaries of that scheme were: petty bureaucrats and politicians of all hues, corporate houses who were quick to hijack contracts and so on. Activists are already calling it flawed  One such activist states:”As far as children are concerned, whatever was mentioned in the draft has not come in this proposed Bill.”Many also feel that it will not reach the true beneficiaries. The whole effort may be well intended but is fraught with pitfalls that no one is willing to see. We all know what happened to the midday school meal! The reality is that children will still die of malnutrition in 21st century India 5000 a day.

That is one side of India: the hidden and dark side that everyone wants to brush under the carpet. An India that is real and should outrage the so called civil society. But that is never the case because a child dying in a remote village in the boonies does not affect the likes of us. So we remain mute, aloof, and unmoved. We only find our voice for things that let us say concern us.

The recent issue of a weekly carried the following headline on its cover: A voyeur’s guide to the Billionaire experience. Open the magazine and you will discover where and how the uber rich spend their money. The choice is ample: you can spend a night at a hotel in New Delhi @ of half a million rupees. And if that is enough you can splurge some more by buying yourself the most expensive (9999 rupees) pizza at the hotel’s signature restaurant. The same magazine invites you to taste a paan @ 5000 Rs, one that promises to increase your libido, or try the the new Rolls Royce priced at 3.25 crores. It is already a success and many have been sold. Confusing… not really this is India today!

Was it just a year ago that Manu left us? It seems like an eternity! With him around everything seemed easy and possible. After his departure nothing was ever the same. Friday January 7th 2011 dawned like any other chilly winter day. Nothing could make us think that it would change our lives forever.

Upon reaching project why I as always made my way to the special class located on the ground floor. I needed my feelgood shot: Manu’s smile. I was a little disappointed to see he was not there but remembered I was the one who had decreed that he should stay warm in his bed on exceptionally cold days and this was certainly one of them. I made a mental note to drop by the flat he lived in later and set out to the chores of the day. I cannot remember what exactly occurred but I was called away and never got to keeping my tryst with Manu on that fateful day. I never knew that tomorrow would never dawn.

It must have been 4pm or so when the girls called me. They had been on their way home when a call from the special educator summoned back to Manu’s home. A few minutes later a weeping Shamika informed me that Manu had left us forever. Time stopped. My mind and heart refused to believe what the ears had just heard. How could this have happened. True he had been a tad unwell but it was Manu we were talking of! He had weathered so many storms. He had always seemed invincible. A little cold could not get the better of him. There was something terribly wrong. I rushed to the flat, running up the three flights of stairs and entered the room where he lay. He just looked asleep. He would wake up and we would hear when his endearing moans. But that was not to be. He never answered my desperate appeals. He was gone. And with him a little of myself too.

I sat next to him, my hands stroking his face. I barely heard the teacher telling we what had happened, how he had asked for a glass of water, drank it and then while the teacher went to make him a cup of tea and get him two of his favourite biscuits, he simply slipped away as quietly as he had lived, without any fuss. That was Manu, a gentle soul who had survived a wretched life without a word of complaint or anger.

Today my thoughts go to him and to his exceptional life, a life that is nothing short of a miracle. Manu came to this earth with a purpose and a mission. You may wonder what purpose and mission a mentally and physically challenged being born in abject poverty could have. It is true that most of us would have brushed him away as yet another wretched beggar had we come across him wandering his street dirty and half clad; that his heart rendering cries would have seemed an irritant that we may have quietened by throwing him a coin. I still do not know why I did not do just that. Maybe everything was preordained. I stopped and looked at him with my heart and my life changed forever. I was to be the catalyst of Manu’s mission on this earth. How blessed was I.

Manu’s legacy is huge. If not for him there would not have been a project why. If not for him so many lives would never have been transformed, be it the now thousands of children who have got access to education, the scores of kids with repaired hearts, the many hopeless souls who now have dignified employment, the bunch of disabled kids who now spend their day happy and so on. Manu was born to conjure miracles and boy he did.

If not for Manu a depressed and lost woman would not have found her way and discovered what she was capable of. Yes it was Manu who made the impossible possible. He lifted my sagging spirits and allowed me to soar. As long as he was at my side I could conquer the world.

With him gone my gait has lost its bounce, my shoulders have sagged and my spirit suddenly seems fallible. With him gone what once was effortless is now back breaking. True I know we need to carry on as that is the only way to honour his memory but the road seems long and replete with challenges that now seem almost insurmountable. Yet I know I will soldier on. I have to. For Manu.

A gift of love came our way lifting our sagging spirits a little. This one was truly bejeweled. Thousands of miles from the slums in which we work Kashmira a lovely lady with a huge heart sat day after day crafting some incredible pieces. With every pearl she threaded and every knot Kashmira tied she wove dreams for little children she had never met. Then one day when she thought she had sufficient jewels she decided to organise a sale urging all her friends to buy a piece reminding them that the proceeds would come to us. Yesterday a cheerful mail dropped in my mail box announcing her success. She had managed to collect quite a substantive amount and had mailed it to us. She added that this was to be an on going effort. Wow I was floored. It is easy to click an online donation option or even write a cheque but to spend your free time crafting gifts of love is rare and overwhelming.

We over the years have been privileged to be the recipients of many such efforts. Would you believe it if I told you that a kind soul from the UK spent his Xmas day or actually over 22 hours painting a mural for our tiny tots! It was a cold day – by Indian standards at least – and the building was empty and almost eerie. As early as 7 am, notwithstanding a late Xmas eve do, Gareth was in the building with his paint, his creativity and his big heart. To keep him company were his iPhone and a bottle of water. When we dropped by with some tea and cake, he had  sketched the mural. It would take him 22 long hours to finish painting it. But he did not go to bed, he wanted to see the little faces when they saw the, lion giraffe, elephant, hippos and other friendly creatures that adorn their wall. The children were a little awed at first but soon started recognising the different animals and shouting it their names. The 22 hours were worth every smile on the little faces. Gareth’s gift of love was also a very special fund raiser.

Gareth and Kashmira are very special souls as they see with their hearts. It is thanks to and because of people like them that Project Why has been able to carry on despite many obstacles. It is because of people like them that miracles come our way when the night is at it darkest. This time we were able to save one of our early education programmes. They are like rays of sunshine on a dark day and compel us to believe that there is still hope in our world, no matter what it looks like. God bless them!

 This is an infinitesimal part of the lavish buffet of a New Year’s eve party in a uppity club of our capital city. The copious fare was preceded by abundant snacks as is always the case. On the rare occasions I have attended such parties, I have never found the my way to the buffet as the snacks alone were plenty. I guess there are many like me. At best we peck at the food to please the hosts. I still remember an uber rich wedding dinner where the buffet was unending and offered every possible cuisine imaginable, even an omelet station! That was the first time I discovered visual indigestion. A simple walk along the buffet aimed at deciding what to partake ended in my inability to eat anything. I have long stopped gracing such occasions as I am one of the few I guess who can never forget the 5000+ children who die of malnutrition every day in our country. But that is my cross and I bear it alone.

The idea of this post was subsequent to a simple question I asked one of the club members: where does the left over food go as no one can tell me that there are no leftovers! The person looked at me blankly and mumbled an incomprehensible answer. I nagged him a bit and he promised me to find out. But I can guess where it goes: most probably into a bin! Have you ever asked yourselves where all the food left over from lavish parties goes? Maybe it time we should.