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I have not seen Oh My God, the recent movie about something that touches all of us: religion! I believe  it shows us how from God lover we have become God fearing and how religion has become a business. I think most of realise this or am I being too optimist?

For the past 2 days, thousands and thousands from all walk of life are fervently washing feet of nine  little girls to mark the end of Durga puja. This is done as a mark of respect of the Goddess the symbol of the purest creative force. There are many interpretations of this ritual but one thing is certain: young girls are meant to be the image of the Goddess. So  they worshipped, venerated, idolized just for the few minutes of a ritual whose meaning everyone had forgotten. Come the said morning and in every Hindu home pressure cookers whistle, potatoes are peeled and cooked into a spicy dish and sweet halwa is eagerly stirred in large woks, flat breads are rolled and deep fried. The food is then served in nine containers and money or gifts as is the fashion now – pencil cases, lunch boxes, hair clips – are added.The feast for the Goddess(es) is ready. Every family has ‘booked’ their goddesses of the day – children of neighbours in slums and shanties, children of those who work for you and so on. The little girls are sat in a row, their feet are washed by all members of the family, then they are given the food and the gifts. Often little girls are seen going from home to home collecting their bounty of the day. It is not every day that girls are feted in India! No wonder project why classes are quasi empty on these days.

The status of women has known many mutations in India. From having equal status to men in ancient India their history has been eventful. It sad to learn that according to a recent study by Reuters India is the “fourth most dangerous country” in the world for women today. And though the are supposed to enjoy equal right to men the reality is different. In a male dominated society women suffer immensely. So is not hypocritical to worship little girls and the next moment forget that they are the image of the Goddess you venerate with so much false piety.

I for one do not wash feet of little girls once a year. I would rather continue in silence the work I do where I worship them in my own way every day by giving them what they need to fight for the rights so many of us have usurped.

To the idiosyncratic remark that stated that 90% of rapes are consensual, there was the added one that rapes are a conspiracy against the ruling party. I cannot begin to imagine where all this will end. But what is reality is that rapes are continuing unabashedly. Yesterday a 50 year old was gang raped by 4 men. For a person of the female sex is do not matter what age you are: 15 months or 50, you still run the risk of being raped. And that is not all, the 62 year old rapist of the 13 year old child is now being shielded by his community by offering the victim’s family money. 35K is the price of innocence.

There is seems to be no justice for the innocent victims. Instead of immediate and punitive actions against the perpetrators, one what sees is shielding the rapist, finding ludicrous explanations ( consensual rape, eating chowmein), blaming the victim (the way she dresses, she drinks, she goes out at night etc) and so on. Everyone is on a single mission: protect the perpetrator! It is time to stop this nonsense. But how? That is the question.

What all the above shows is that in the mind of the law makers, protectors and enforcers rape is a trivial crime where the victim is a much if not more to blame than the perp.

When a little girl is born she has the same rights as her male counterparts. She has the right to live, to laugh, to play, to grow, to study, to work. She has the right to be loved, respected, cared for and protected. She has the right to dream about her morrows and to see them become reality. Sadly in India all these rights are usurped in the name of false honour, false morality and social mores made by a male dominated society. Her life is controlled by a series of males: her father, her brother, her husband and even her sons. She has not much say in anything. Is she steps out of the line drawn by these male relatives she is reigned in and even branded. Her dreams remain dreams shared with no one.

When she hurts or is hurt by anyone, she is far too often held responsible and ordered to step back in line. The extreme instance is rape where the first accusation falls on her: why did she step out, why did she wear ‘revealing’ clothes, why did she stay out late etc. She seems to be the custodian not only of her family’s honour but of the honour of the entire world.

Trivialising rape is the highest insult to women. It is time this stopped!

Today is the first day of Navratri or the nine nights in which we will worship the Goddess Durga .We will worship her in each and every form from the young Kumari, to Parvati to Kali to Lakshmi to Saraswati and along the way we will beseech her to protect us, to give us wealth and prosperity and knowledge and wisdom. We will end our devotion by worshipping nine little girls whose feet we will wash and who will endow with gifts and blessings. The we I refer to here is all of us Hindus, men and women. It is also all those who normally deride and dismiss women, treat them like second class citizens, who rape them with impunity, who use and abuse them without mercy, who even kill them in the womb! The disparity between the way we revere our Goddesses and treat our women every day is glaring.  Is it not hypocritical?

True some of us do not feel or act that way but do we hot keep strangely mum and behave like ostriches when aberrations occur? What right do we have to worship Goddess Durga if we are unable to protect girls and women? Why should she bestow anything on us when we forget once the nine nights have passed that she resides in every woman?

For the next none nights Durga will be adored and worshiped in every way imaginable. On the eight or night day nine little girls will also be worshipped as many will wash their feet as a mark of respect to the Goddess, each one symbolising one of the Goddess. Yet once the festivities over these very little girls will go back to the reality of not being wanted and treated respect and love. Every little girl has the right to ask why she is being worshipped once a year and abused for the rest of time.

I guess I am a believer though I cannot accept to be part of a show that his to say the last hypocritical. I have in days gone by been guilty of falling prey to the lure of ritualism. I guess it had to be a rite of passage, mercifully a short one. I was blessed to have had the privilege of entering a world that may seem alien to many but that brought straight back to reality and showed me the way I sought.

Today I do not go seeking the elusive God I believe in, in temples and faraway pilgrimage sites. I see Her everyday in the eyes of the little children who have been forgotten by all, and yet who open their hearts to anyone fortunate enough to look into their eyes with their hearts.

For the next nine days I will worship all the little project why girls and seek protection, prosperity and wisdom. 

The horror lasted for 3 months. Just trying to imagine what she must have gone through day after day makes my blood run cold. I also cannot fathom what was the tipping point that made her break her silence and tell her father. I must salute the father who believed his child and contacted the police. The rape was confirmed. But the outcome was not what one would expect from a civilised society. The victim was arrested but one wonders for how long but the school authorities and the local political entity decided to expel the child and her sisters!

Yes you read right, the victim, the girl who had been repeatedly raped was thrown out of school. This is justice India style. Hang your head in shame or speak out the choice is yours. But this is a reality and we cannot run away from it. A young rape victim has been denied her right to education because she was raped. How that works is impossible for me to comprehend. Even the warped and skewed logic of a politician who wants us to believe that 90% rapes are consensual cannot be applied here. The victim was 13, the rapist 62. In any law book it is a rape!

My mind travels back some 7 or 8 years when I was faced with a similar situation. In one of our primary classes a girl always sat alone, never next to the others. No one spoke to her. She came and went alone. She was about 12 or 13. When I enquired upon the reason of such behavior I was shocked to hear that she had been raped when she was 3 year old, the rapist was her neighbour. he had been caught and served a sentence and was freed. But the girl had been branded forever. We took matters in hand and ensured that she was accepted by her class mates. I even got her to learn karate and she was a star. Slowly she regained her lost confidence but sadly her mother died and the family moved away. I wonder where she is now. I just hope and pray she is safe.

How long will this terrible injustice last? When will we gather the strength to say enough is enough! I feel so helpless.

Are we responsible for the arrogance of our law makers and rulers is the question any self respecting India should ask him/herself in the wake of the spate of incidents that have occurred in the past 48 hours or so. Let us begin with the premise I hope still holds true. We are a democracy of the people, by the people and for the people. We are the ones who elect our representatives both in Parliament and State Assemblies. These representatives are supposed to protect our interest and  put forth our views. I guess we are all agree on this. So in the best case scenario representatives should be a reflection of who we are and it is our responsibility to ensure that.

However the reality is quite different if we are to go by what happened recently. We are agree that rape is a heinous and loathsome crime. It is a crime against women and girls, the worst form of abuse you can imagine. No a political leader of the ruling party in a State that has seen an unacceptable number of rapes in the past month stated two days back that in 90% of cases rape was consensual! Please explain how rape can be consensual as I am unable to figure this one. The last rape was that of a 6 year old who was lured with a bar of chocolate and raped by three men. Now is accepting a chocolate consent to rape? And what about the 13 MONTH old that was raped yesterday! How can we hope that with such a mentality our politicians will take rape seriously and get the victims justice they deserve and hope for. As I write these words, a Khap Panchayat, read Kangaroo court- is busy discussing lowering marriage age for girls to solve the rape problem. It is never the man’s fault, is it?

Let us move on. Some days back a senior politician and Minister insulted a priestess. The altercation was cost on camera and it was horrific to see how he abused the poor woman and ordered that she be locked up to teach her a lesson. Now Mr Minister there are laws in the land and no one can and should get locked up at the whim and fancy of anyone, let alone a person who can only aspire to the holds without the help of people just like the woman he was abusive to. It is a democracy and not your fiefdom.

But that is not all. You agree that an official needs to do his duty. The duty of a toll tax officer is to collect the toll tax. Now some people are exempted – why is that I do not know – and need to show proof of their identity. If I told you that one such exempted person – a Member of Parliament in the occurrence, the kind of bloke you and I are supposed to put there – chose to jump out of his car gun in hand and threatened to shoot one and all in true John Wayne style. Now wonder what would have happened if you and I had tried that!

And last but not the least, should you not like what an officer is doing and want it done your way, then kidnap him! Yes you read right! That is exactly what another Minister did recently. It is true that he has since resigned, but on the other hand no FIR has been registered against him.

So it seems that when we – and by we I mean voters – elect a representative we give license to shoot his mouth, license to insult and abuse, license to brandish a gun and maybe even kill and license to kidnap. Wow that is something I was not aware of.

But let us come to the main point. We are a democracy and a democracy can only function well when each and everyone of us exercise our right to vote freely and intelligently. We are proud of being a democracy and cherish the freedom it gives us. Then why is it that most of us – so called enlightened electorate – fail to go and vote. I too have been guilty of this crime, for crime it is. We have to accept responsibility and take our role as citizens seriously.

The recent spate of rapes in the state of Haryana – 13 in just one month – have once again brought the extreme vulnerability of women in our country to the fore. It is not just the crime that is heinous and reprehensible. What is more shocking is the reaction of the law makers and keepers. Last week a young sixteen year old girl was gang raped by four men. Not able to bear the shame, she set herself on fire and died. In another case the father of a rape victim committed suicide as we was not getting any justice.

Rape is an abhorrent crime to say the least. What makes it worst in our land is the fact that it is the victim that is put to trial. Some months back following another spate of rape the administration had come up with astonishing prevention measures: women should not be working after 8pm, and should wear appropriate clothes! This time the local village council leader as come up with an even more astounding solution to rape. He feels early marriage would put a stop to rapes.  “I believe this is happening because our youth are being badly influenced by cinema and television. I think that girls should be married at the age of 16, so that they have their husbands for their sexual needs, and they don’t need to go elsewhere. This way rapes will not occur,“. Voila! Rape over! And that is not all, a political leader of the ruling party goes on to call rapes a conspiracy to defame the government. How that works is beyond my comprehension.

The bottom line is that in our country, where Goddesses are worshipped with passion and devotion women and girls are treated with utter contempt. If they are not killed in the womb then what awaits them is a nothing short of hell. As they have been branded as the keeper of the family’s honour they are divested of any form of freedom. Should anything untoward happen, they are the ones to bear the consequences. This is what the recent stories seem to tell. Rape is the worst form of crime where a man or many give themselves the right to use and abuse of a woman’s body. The tragedy in our land is that the onus of the aberration is squarely placed on the shoulders of the victim. They dress wrong, they watch the wrong movies, they have sexual needs that they need to fulfill being the latest accusation. How does all this apply to a minor who has been gang raped is a question begging to be answered.

It is sad that instead of being condemned by one and all, a reprehensible and depraved crime like rape becomes a political issue. I have no words to describe how it makes me feel. The country has a democratic system and an independent judiciary and the law is in the hands of judiciary and nobody else said one leader. We all know how the law works. We all know how humiliating the process is for the victim. Some countries have chemical castration of rapist. Maybe we too should consider that. It is time that women were treated with the respect and dignity they deserve.

How many times have you seen your favourite film? I wonder. Personally I am not a great cine fan and rarely go to the movies. I did once, but cannot remember having seen a film more than 2 or at best 3 times.  Often the extra times were to please a friend and were not my cup a tea. I would have preferred spending the two yours reading. So if I told you that in the past few weeks I have seen a single film so many times that I have lost count you would not believe me. But this I a fact!

Now before I carry on I must admit that this new fad, if I can call it that, is courtesy the new man in my life: Agastya my grandson. This little man has changed my life in more ways than one and managed to make me do things I never dreamt I would. One of them being seeing a movie n times. It all began like this.

One day my husband showed the little fellow bits of Mamma Mia on his computer and the little one got hooked. After that day, every time he was allowed to watch the screen, he wanted to see Mamma Mia. I honestly thought he would get tired of seeing the same movie over and over. No way. So for the past month or more I was treated to Mamma Mia day in and day out. He would get up in the morning and even before saying Good Morning, would turn his endearing eyes to his grandpa and say ” Put Mamma Mia”and if the old man did not comply then he would turn to me and say ” Nana is not putting MM!” So MM it was early morning and MM became our good night song.

But that is not all, in between viewings of MM, I was made to discover other things: Doraemon and Chotta Bheem. I must confess I have never been a cartoon nut even in my younger days but lo and behold grandma had to get hooked on these two cartoons and rather than resist and turn my face around and pick a book, I decided to follow the little leader and watch these shows. I must say rather sheepishly that I got somewhat hooked and found myself following the stories. Utpal watches these shows too and never got me to follow them as the fleeting images I saw as I came in and out of the room were never enough to make me want to sit down and watch. But having to forcibly, well not quite, sit with Agy made me watch and enjoy the episodes. The endearing cat robot  Doraeomon comes or the daring little Chutki became part of my life too. Grandma had to rock!

My little boy flew away yesterday night after a last viewing of Mamma Mia. The house is so empty but my head is ringing with Abba songs. I am missing my little man. May be I should simply go to my room and watch Mamma Mia!

Square foot for square foot your maid’s rent is probably higher then yours. The rents for shanties and jhuggies across the capital have hit the roof. People are paying 30 rs a square foot for flimsy tenements not larger than 10 square feet with no bathroom, kitchen or running water. This fact was revealed in a study by the the School of Planning and Architecture’s (SPA) National Resource Centre.

We have experienced first hand the skyrocketing of rents over the past decade. Ten years ago you could still find a shanty for 500 rupees a month. Today the same space is nothing less than 2000 Rs. And migrants have no option but to rent such jhuggis are rooms in any part of the capital is nothing less than 5000 Rs a month. A poky, windowless room with an apology of a bathroom  goes for 5K in the Govindpuri lane where we are located. And Madanpur Khader village that till recently had rooms @ 1000 a month and provided shelter to migrants is undergoing a mutation. With medical tourism at its height and Apollo Hospital a stone’s throw away, landlords are evicting their poorer tenants, knocking off the old structures and erecting swanky guest houses and service flats for the relatives of long term patients. It is a roaring business with many takers. The erstwhile tenants are now running helter skelter to find alternative accommodation in a city that has none.

We may turn up our noses in disdain and even disgust while passing through a shanty town. We may feel that such aberrations have no place in a city like ours. But have we ever stopped to think as to why this has occurred? And above all do we realise the strong link that binds us to the inhabitants of these shanties. But let us begin with the first statement: how and why have we reached this situation. Have you ever wondered if our city has adequate provisions for housing its poor? Big cities normally have poorer quarters with high rises. We have zilch. Many years back private houses had the ubiquitous servant quarter that were meant to house those working within the premises as well as their family. So your maid husband could be an plumber, electrician, carpenter or simply an employee in a shop. Then slowly the concept of large well constructed servant quarters was transformed as people redid their houses taking in the servant quarter space to make a new flat that could be rented. The servants were relegated to tiny rooms on the roof often with just an asbestos sheet to ward the heat or cold. The room was barely sufficient for one person.

When migrants came to Delhi  many many decades ago they looked for space to live. They often found  some vacant space and erected bamboo poles and a plastic sheet begin with. They knew the space was illegal and so did the authorities. But the later did not evict them as they saw a way of lining their pockets. The poor migrant had no option but to pay. When the numbers grew the political parties started looking at them as potential vote banks they needed to woo. They were given an identity in the  form of a voter’s card and soon became legal! This game carried on. The migrants felt emboldened and the flimsy structures were soon replaced by more concrete ones and then just as the rich did, they too decided to become landlords: roms were built on top of the one they lived in and rented to newcomers. This happened in every slum in the city from the larger ones and even the legal rehabilitation colonies to the tiny ones that often sprung up on small pieces of empty land across the city. These are the rooms that now fetch a hefty rent.

These places house the people who are the backbone of the city and as I said earlier people who are closely linked to us. The ones who carry out repairs or even build our homes, the ones who look after our every day needs and care for our very own, the ones who make our lives a tad easier. Have we ever stopped to think about where our maid  or our plumber lives? I think we should.

The shanties and hovels a large part of the city live in are homes to those who stay in them. I have been always impressed by the care taken in setting them up: the kitchen corner with shelves lined with gleaming utensils, the sole bed that always dons a bright cover, the school bags of the children that hang neatly in another corner and so on. The space is squeaky clean. I have visited many such homes and been warmly welcomed each and every time with smiles and warm cups of delicious tea.

But these living conditions are abysmal and appalling. Any city that expects any of its inhabitants to live in such conditions should hand its head in shame. The surroundings are dirty and often dangerous. Many such homes are build next to factories and often lower than the roads. Many factories discharge their chemical in the open drains where children often play.

It is time something was done for these people and time for the city to embrace its own with the dignity they deserve. But for that the Government would have to build proper housing. I do not think that is about to happen if we are to believe today’s headlines: Government plans to sell surplus land to ease fiscal crunch!

 Six years ago a supporter and friend asked me the following question: Excuse me saying this, but why don’t you sell this house.. imagine how many heart surgeries it would sponsor.  I answered the question then to the best of my ability stating that liquidating an asset, no matter now big was against the essence of pwhy. The question was disturbing to say the least and remained in my mind. Yesterday a very young volunteer asked me a similar question. His was perhaps less direct as he wanted to know whether I felt guilty staying in such a large house after seeing the conditions in which the children of pwhy lived.

Six years later I was on the rack again and though I gave him an answer I hope sounded sincere, I realised the need to address the question once again as I presume it is one that undoubtedly comes to many minds but often remains unsaid. Yes I live in a big house, this is an indubitable fact. The house was built by my parents and being their only child it came to me with a rider though. It was to be in my custody and then revert to my daughters after me. So legally it is not mine! But the question has a deeper meaning that needs to be addressed. I think what people want to know is whether I feel guilty living a privileged life or to put it in kinder words whether pwhy has changed my outlook and directions in life.

I have said loud and clear that for me pwhy is the repayment of  a debt. I realised how privileged I was when I visited my ancestral village in 1983. The village my family hails from is one of the most backward you can imagine. When I visited it it had no proper road access and none of its girls had been to school. Had my ancestor not left this village I too would have been uneducated, married in my teens, grandmother in my thirties. Instead there I was a diplomat’s daughter, smothered in luxury, highly educated and so on. That is when I realised that there had to be a big payback time. What it would be, I did not know then, but that it would happen was certain.

The years went by, but the feeling never left. I carried on with my responsibilities waiting for the opportune time. It dawned in 1998. My parents were gone, my children grown and my wandering the world done for once for all! I was in my late forties and felt it was time to sink roots and redeem my pledge. Pwhy was born.

I did not know what shape it would take. Only time would tell. And somehow from the very moment it too seed, it seemed as if destiny had it all chalked out. Every step was taking me in the right direction. When friends and well wishers tried to put a spoke in the wheel proclaiming that the task at hand was too huge, I retorted that all I wanted to do was change life.

But I am not here to tell the pwhy story. We are talking of guilt. Honestly I do not feel guilty about having a big house. It has been part of the plan. It is something I cannot change so I humbly accept it. But things have changed for me. And the biggest change has been that for the first time in my life I feel complete.

What has changed for me is that I am humbled each and everyday. Humbled by the love and generosity that has come my way, humbled by the miracles I see unfold, humbled by the love I am given in ample measure. 

Every morning my grandson Agastya comes with me to Project Why before setting off to his school. We land up at the gates of the Project roughly the same time as Radhey brings the special kids in his auto rickshaw. And almost every morning Radha is sitting in the rickshaw waiting for someone to pick her up and take her to class. Now Radha sits in the corner that is Agastya’s spot and normally when anyone sits in that corner, Agastya has a tantrum. You see no is meant to take Agastya’s spot be it in the rickshaw, the dining table or any space he has claimed. But strangely when he found Radha sitting in his spot, Agastya said nothing but simply went and sat beside her. He stared at her malformed legs for a long time, questions puzzling his tiny mind but said nothing. He simply gave her a huge smile. A teacher soon came and picked her up. She waved bye bye and Agatya waved back.

As we left the centre he asked me what had happened to her. Now what do you tell a 3 year old. How do you explain osteogenesis imperfecta to a toddler. How do you tell him that it is an incurable condition that will ultimately take the little girl away. So you do your best and simply say she is hurt, badly hurt. That is what I did. She was hurt and could not walk. He accepted my explanation but his face remained serious. I wonder what was going on in his head. After some time he simply said: but she will walk tomorrow.

Oh how I wish these innocent words coming from the mouth of a child could be true. What would we all not give up to see Radha walk. But the sad and bitter reality is that she will not, even the God of lesser beings cannot conjure this miracle.

Every morning as we set off for the centre my darling grandson asks me whether Radha will be there, in his spot. He looks forward to that brief encounter probably knowing without knowing that she special, truly special. And I take comfort in his words: but tomorrow she will walk knowing that that tomorrow will never come.

We will take a few blows, but do not throw us out of school are the chilling words many pwhy students told their teachers last week, a day after the High Court heard a petition on the abysmal plight of the schools they study in. The story goes like this.

For the past months or more children have been regularly complaining of the state of the schools they study in. From lack of basic facilities like toilets and drinking water to cramming of students in classes – in some cases 150 in a class meant for 50 -, from corporal punishment to teachers absenteeism, from broken ceilings to non functioning fans, the complaints were many each more shocking than the other. This was supposedly XXI st century India, the India our rulers would like to showcase as a glitzy and shining land, yet the accounts of these children seemed to be out of a Dickens’s novel. Moved by their concern I decided to get in touch with a lawyer friend known for his social activism. He asked me to bring the kids to his office in the High Court. The children shared their woes and were asked to write them down, get them signed by as many as possible and send them to the lawyer. Days passed and we kept waiting for the children’s letters but none came. Instead we got a litany of excuses. The penny dropped: the children were scared of writing their problems. It was time to act again and empower our kids

I rung the lawyer up and he told me he would come and talk to the children of their rights and organise a postcard campaign where children would be given postcards and would be urged to write their woes. The cards were to be addressed to the Chief Justice, Delhi High Court. So on a bright Sunday morning a post card campaign was organised in our women centre and heaps of children shared their concerns. It was touching to see them write what they had carried for so long in the hope that someone would hear. They has just one wish: to be able to study in the best conditions possible. The post cards were written and handed over and a few days later a petition was filed in court and heard by the Acting Chief Justice. The government was given 4 weeks to file their reply. The voice of voiceless children was finally heard.

But the feeling of achievement was short lived. The next day itself the furore of the school fell on these kids. A sample letter was written of the blackboard for all to copy. The letter said that an NGO – us I guess! – had plied them with toffees and biscuits and ‘forced’ them to write these letters. Some older kids were even beaten resulting in them saying: We will take a few blows, but do not throw us out of school ! The fear of being cut off the rolls loomed large.

We will take a few blows, but do not throw us out of school  are words one must ponder on as they reveal how much these children want their education. In spite of the fact that corporal punishment is against the law, they are willing to take some blows as long as they remain in school. The scare of being thrown out of school is used and abused by their teachers. They know they hold a trump card however unjust. I cannot but remember the young girl I found many years ago crying on her home from school. When I asked her what happened she told me had been beaten by her teacher. When I asked her why she replied she did not know. And how can I forget the secondary boys’s answer to my question: what would you change in your school? I would have bet my last rupee that their answer would be: we would stop the beating. Imagine my schock when they said: we would tell the child the reason for which he was receiving a beating. Acceptance of beating without reason is nothing short of scary. And nothing has changed over the past 12 years. Kids are still being beaten in schools and have simply learnt to accept it. How would this translate in their adulthood is question begging to be asked.

The state of Government run schools has deteriorated over the years. This is sad but true. If one side of the spectrum has witnessed a proliferation of private schools of all shades and hue, the other has to live with degradation and decay. One wonders why as the State runs perfectly good schools like the Central Schools. Why then is not each and every school of the same as calibre as Central schools?

Today we are a city that prides itself of having an Ice Bar and Jimmy Choo and Louis Vuitton outlets. But in this very city an innumerable amount of bright and innocent children are being denied their right to a good education, the only way they could better their morrows. Is it no time to do something for them!

“Have the people stopped eating and drinking because of the drought?” is what an MLA on a junket said in his defence. Thirteen such MLAs are on a South American spree, many with their spouses and you and I are paying for it! Another MLA defended himself with these words: “There has been enough rain in my constituency and farmers are busy cultivating crops. Due to the recent rainfall, our canals are full and plantations are lush. So, I am rid of all guilt.” The cost per legislator is 600 000 Rs and on their way back they have a two day shopping stop in West Asia. These are the people WE elect to represent our needs and issues. I guess we bear some of the responsibility. The crassness of their remarks is nothing short of shocking. The study tour of course consists of Tango classes, a lesson in Mayan culture at Machu Pichu and discovering the Copacabana beach! All this whilst those who elected are busy surviving

This is one story.

There is another which is even more insensitive. At the London paralympics our athletes do not have coaches or escorts living with them in the village but officials and their wives/daughters are enjoying their stay in the games village! A wheelchair bound athlete needs an escort to help him gets dressed, go to the toilet and get ready for the event. But our officials do not understand that or should I say do not give two hoots. We all know how the disabled are treated in our country. I guess the paralympics are just one more option for regular junkets and not really an apportunity for brave athletes.

In a country where 5000 children die every day of malnutrition do we need to pay for junkets for our elected representatives and officials. A question that needs to be answered but who will?

The Human Development Report of 2011 states that Gujarat is the worst among the high per-capita states in the country in fighting malnutrition. The state is placed even below Orissa, Uttar Pradesh, West Bengal and Assam. That the CM of such a state chooses to trivialise the issue of malnutrition is appalling, distressing and totally unacceptable. Malnutrition is not a lifestyle issue in India but a terrible failure of all concerned and something we that should make our heads hang in shame. The Gujarat statistics are nothing to be proud of: 41% children underweight, 55% women anemic! That the CM wants the world to believe that this is due to vegetarianism or beauty consciousness is sickening.

5000 children die every day of malnutrition! They are all under 5 and in no way beauty or figure conscious. The 415 underweight children of the state do not have the luxury of refusing a glass of milk. They never get any!

No Chief Minister or any other political or administrative person has the right to pooh pooh malnutrition. Malnutrition is undoubtedly something every self respecting Indian should be ashamed of.

 At the recently held convocation of IIT Bombay the Prime Minsiter said that “his heart is pained” by the high cut-offs for college admissions. “We are placing limits on opportunities for our youth,” he said. I agree one hundred per cent!

Yet there is another statistics I wish our honourable PM also looked. I am referring to the abysmally low figure needed to pass an examination, and particularly the class XII Boards. It is just thirty three percent! You will be surprised to know that in some Government schools the curriculum is not completed because as I was candidly told by a school principal: all they need is 33% we cover 40% of the curriculum. I was to say the least speechless. So you need over 90% to accede to a good and affordable university education but all you need is 33% to pass your secondary school examination.

The equation is skewed and incomprehensible. The only ‘logical’ explanation seems to be that is that University education is not for the poor. Le me elucidate. A first generation learner is often the child of poor illiterate or semi literate parents. She or he has no option but to study in a state run school. The state run school often offers second class education and with the no fail policy till class VII the child goes from class to class till class VIII! Then many of them muddle through and can manage a secondary school certificate with 33%. Not an impossible task as she/he is a master at learning by rote and has access to a plethora of badly written guide books that do the job. Now armed with the precious certificate the student does not have many options is she or he wants to go for further studies. The 90%+ institutions are closed to her. The private institutions are out of their reach. Study aboard is an impossibility. The student may get admission in an evening course or a correspondence or distance course but these are of little value.

33% does not even give you the possibility to apply for a job as most of them ask a minimum of 50%. Your parents who do not comprehend the meaning and importance of marks are baffled at the fact that the education they gave you at great sacrifice and with great hope is not opening the doors they hoped for. What is so frustating is that that majority of these kids CAN do well if given the chance. For the past 12 years a few hours at pwhy has enabled many of these kids to get marks in the 70s and even 80s. But even those are not enough to get a good college education.

So Mr Prime Minister you should only be pained at the cut off marks for admission in higher education institutions but shocked at the abysmally low pass marks your system adheres to. I know that everyone in the country cannot aspire to higher education but the very Right to Education that you have given to all the children of India should at least help them break the cycle of poverty in which they were born. And talking of shocking figures why is it that this very RTE stops at the age of 14 when a child is nowhere finishing his school even if he or she is bright and talented. So 14 is another figure that should pain you. Your system does not even grant her/him the right to complete school. Moreover with the poor quality of education offered this fourteen year  old has few doors open to her/him.

Your speech sounds very rosy and hopeful when you state: Our government has opened new IITs, new IIMs and new institutions for teaching and research in the sciences. We have increased investment in school education. We have increased scholarships for the disadvantaged sections of our society. We have set up new institutions in different parts of the country so that our children can get the best education available closer home. The ground reality is something else! The new IIMs and IITs are again for the the chosen few.

As stated earlier, higher education is not for everyone. But at the same time opportunities should be given to one and all. At present the school education we are giving is worthless. It cannot give any job opportunity. In some countries skill are imparted at an early stage and students can opt for a school leaving format that introduces the candidate to the work environment whilst still in school. The Bac en Alternance offered in France has the student working for part of the week and studying in school for the remaining days. So a student interested in catering would be working in a kitchen for 3 days and studying for the remaining 3. Once he or she has passed the final examination the student can apply for a apprenticeship in the chosen field and work her/his way up. A wide range of options are open to her/him. Skills like plumbing, electrical work, carpentry, beautician, stitching and tailoring etc should be introduced early so that at the end of school the student is ready for employment. Unless some such option is created education in India will remain useless and futile.

So there many statistics that should disturb anyone who holds the interest of children at heart, specially the PM.

 I just finished reading Stolen Lives by Malika Oufkir. I came to know about her book quite inadvertently as I was sharing some memories of Morocco with a friend. I actually was talking about the baby elephant that my father, then Ambassador of India, had shipped for the King’s daughter Lalla Amina. This friend told me that this incident was part of the book written by Malika Oufkir. The name rung a bell as she was one of the playmates of the Princess and as did spend many week ends at her palace, Malika was one of the little girls I too played with.

It took me some time to get a copy of the book but I eventually did. The first pages were very much part of my life and brought memories rushing, memories I had. It was also sad to know that the baby elephant had to be shot as he did not get used to the local keeper and attacked him. But it was the rest of the book that was a real shock. When we left Rabat I must have been 8 and Malika 7. For some years our lives seemed on track but when she was 19 everything changed for her. Her father was involved in a plot and assassinated and she and her mother and siblings were locked away for almost 20 years in the most inhuman conditions. She and her family survived because of the indomitable grit of this 19 year old. She fought all odds and mounted a daring escape that eventually brought their plight to the world and the first step to freedom.

Reading her story was not easy and that for more reasons than one. First and foremost there was an immense sense of guilt at having had a privileged life while someone I shared happy and merry moments with had to go through pure hell. I know there was nothing I could have done but still it made me sad. Then I also felt a sense of betrayal as my parents and I had fond memories of the royal family and knowing that one of them could put children through such hurt – Malika’s little brother was just 3 when they were put away. I also felt tremendous respect for this woman who had been robbed of her best years and still had the courage to share her story and reclaim her life back. My life suddenly paled compared to hers and my admiration for someone I had known just as a shadow to a princess. I somehow wished I had known more of her.

I tried to find a picture from those days but could not find one with her. I am sure that if I rummage through the umpteen packets filled with sepia memories I will find some. However I did find one of Rabat and stared at the little girl I was. Strangely just looking at the picture brought so many more memories, some worth sharing. That is when the words memento mori came to my mind. These are the words a Roman general asked a slave to repeat to him as he walked during a victory parade. I guess the best translation would be remember you too will die and the best explanation that nothing lasts forever. There is a lot of wisdom in this and a lot to learn. But to me, at this instant they took another connotation: remember you will die, and with you will die all your memories unless I wrote them down. And I do not mean just happy memories or the ones that make you look good. If I have to be honest then even the darker ones have to be written.

This blog is not the right place to do so so I will write about the anou before pwhy in a blog I have decided to call memento mori.

Yesterday Ankit, Praveen and Geeta, 3 secondary school students went to an activist lawyer to voice their concern about the state of education in their school. It was truly an ah ha moment for us. The children complained about the overcrowded classes (140 to 160 kids in some cases), the ensuing lack of seating space and the inability to study. Some of the classes not having desks at all, children have to cart gunny backs from home in their already weighty school bags! No fans, no bulbs and more of the same make these schools look like one out of a Dickens novel! India @ 65 is not a great place for kids.

The irony is that on the previous day our PM had in his Iday speech lauded our achievements and called for celebration. In my humble away I would like to rebut some of the statements made in that speech. However before doing so I must agree to one statement our PM made: We would achieve independence in the true sense only when we are able to banish poverty, illiteracy, hunger and backwardness from our country. This is true in every sense of the word but what is also true is that we are miles away from that day. All we need is to scratch the veneer to see the cracks.

The PM goes on to state: It is good that we have a big stock of food grains because of the hard work of our farmer brothers and sisters, and availability of food grains is not a problem for us. Yes Mr Prime Minister, but what about the 5000 children that die every day in your India and the millions of tons of grains that rot in different parts of the country? Is it not time you did something about it!

You state that our children are the biggest strength of our country. If our children are provided with good education and are healthy, then our future would be bright. I cannot but agree with you. But please take off the blinkers other force on you and look with you heart and the state of children in your country. In your capital city nursery children are made to study on desks made for class XII children and many children brave the bitter cold, lashing rain and scorching heat under tents as their ‘schools’ have no buildings! And what quality of teaching can kids get when 160 are stuffed in a class! It is a matter of extreme sadness that your speech on the occasion of our 65th I Day should still need to mention state that now we will focus on improving the quality of education. Does it take four generations of Indians to reach the hallowed moment when one would start talking of quality education.

That the Right to Education took six decades to be enshrined in our Constitution is a sad reflection of the place we give our children. At the time when they need us the most they are sadly not vote banks. My I make a humble suggestion? Maybe the first step to take to improve the quality of education would be to increase the pass percentage from the ridiculous 33% to 50%? I know it is important to have good looking statistics to meet international approval but tell me what the future is for a young Indian who has secured his XIIth with a mere 33% when even the jobs your government advertises require a minimum of 50%? And I am not even beginning to go into the 90+% needed to enter the hallowed portals of higher education in institutions that the poor can afford. The rich have many options but what about the poor? 

You mention the spectre of malnutrition. You also state that the process of making the ICDS more effective is in its last stages and will be completed in the next 1 or 2 months. May I remind you that the ICDS was initiated in October 1975. Had it been implemented honestly no Indian under the age of 37 should have been malnourished. Does it take almost 4 decades in our country to get a sound programme functioning properly. You must be aware of the fact that very recently food meant for ICDS creches was hijacked and sold as cattle folder lining greedy pockets. How many generations will it take to ensure that no child sleeps hungry in the country you lead!

You talk of a National Rural Health Mission will be converted into a National Health Mission which would cover all villages and towns in the country. But may I draw attention to an news item that appeared in the national press a day after you spoke stating that India has 76% shortfall in Government doctors! India @ 65 is unhealthy and the scheme for distribution of free medicines through Government hospitals and health centres you propose will be yet again a great source of enrichment for wily predators.

Recently a ward boy and a OT staffer tended to accident patients and courtesy a rabid press were punished and lost their employment. But Sir if we are short of 70% of trained doctors then someone has to fill the gap till the government gets its act together. I too was outraged at the number of quacks operating in the slums when I began my work a decade ago. It did not take me long to understand that something was better than nothing and that these half baked doctors where playing a crucial role!

 You state  that you . This is indeed laudable but why is it that I like many older citizens feel weary that this too will go the way many laudable schemes have gone, the ICDS being one of them.

You say that  people belonging to the economically weaker sections would be given relief on interest for housing loans of less than Rs. 5 lakh under a new scheme for housing the urban poor.  Many schemes have come and gone without much ado and the poor in urban India still live in unacceptable conditions. I so wish you could just take time and do what old rulers did: walk the streets incognito. Then maybe you would see for yourself how people in your city live. It is to their credit that they have not lost their grit and spirit, like little Radha who manages to steer her fractured body and brittle bones in the dark pit she lives in without having forgotten to smile.

You also state that  recently the Cabinet has approved the Mars Orbiter Mission. Under this Mission, our spaceship will go near Mars and collect important scientific information. This spaceship to Mars will be a huge step for us in the area of science and technology. I love my country and am proud of its achievements but please tell me whether the scientific information you collect around Mars will be change the deadly statistics of 5000 children dying every day of malnutrition.

You say that your Government has paid special attention to the welfare of Scheduled Castes, Scheduled Tribes, minorities, women and other weaker sections. If you say so but from what I know the plight of these section of society is to say the least shocking. Every day some new aberrations comes to light but nothing changes.

You state that your commitment to make the work of the Government and administration transparent and accountable stands. Sadly the past years has seen the word corruption declined in every imaginable way. From scams where the numbers are mind boggling to the likes of me when anything beyond 6 zeros is chimera, to the tiny amounts taken by low ranked officials corruption has become a way of life. I will need a herculean effort to tackle the Hydra called Corruption.

You end with saying: It will be our endeavour that in the coming time, still more people help us in tasks like removal of poverty, illiteracy and inequality. It is a sad statement after 65 years of freedom. My mother chose to get married late because she did not want to give life to a slave child. She kept her promise and I was born a free Indian. Then why do I feel a slave in many ways and why do I feel that I have let my freedom loving mother down.

Happy Independence Day! It is our 65th Independence Day and we should have a lot to be proud of. But do we. Sixty five years is three generations and that is a long time by any standards. Certainly enough time to honour and redeem all sacrifice made by those who fought for the very independence we seem to take for granted. Kamala’s (my mother) family was one of those who have up everything to ensure that we would be born in free India. They had dreams, dreams that I had the privilege to share. They dreamt of a hunger free land, of a land that would give the most enabling environment to their children, a land that would prosper and grow, a land that would respect values and traditions. Their dreams were so well enshrined in the Preamble of our Constitution which secured all its citizens justice, liverty, equality and fraternity.

Justice social and economic, Liberty of thought belief and faith, Equality of status! One does not need to be a rocket scientist to see that none of these have been respected. Today, 65 years after independence millions sleep hungry, more than 5000 children die every day of malnutrition, there is scant respect for belief or faith; invisible and impregnable walls are erected between the rich and the poor. Corruption is rampant. Those who have the power have lost the ability to use it well. Whilst the children of India waited more than 60 years to get their right to education, bills that seek to increase the goodies meant for those in power are passed in minutes. Though more than 3 children die every minute because of lack of food, grains rot in the open across the land. Food meant for the poor children is hijacked and sold as cattle fodder. Caste divides remain ugly and respect for our brethren has vanished.  India @ 65 is not pretty.

Kamala my mother wanted her child to be born in free India. She was 32 when I was born in free India. I guess what motivated her to prefer life as an old maid to life as a mother of a slave child was a dream. A dream that saw her child thriving in a country that enshrined the values the likes of her sacrificed their lives for. Today in my seventh decade I cannot but hang my hand in shame as we have failed our freedom fighters in every which way possible. Can my tiny effort be even considered as a step in the right direction.

The India my mom dreamt of was one where children would receive good education and aspire to wonderful morrows. How can I begin to tell her that this is far from reality. The children of India have been let down hook line and sinker by one and all.

Last week I came to know of the shocking reality of the state of schools in XXIst century India. As a tribute to the one who gave me a free life I need to cast my apprehensions and start taking pro active steps in the right direction. Sitting in the comfort zone of pwhy is not acceptable any more. My voice needs to become the voice of my kids. So I am taking a few of them to an activist lawyer so that they can share their angst and perhaps be heard.

The tragedy of our country is that those who have a voice and can make a difference remain silent and ataxic. It is time this changed or else the Independence we all pretend to celebrate once a year, will all be in vain.

It is time we took ownership of our Independence.

Happy Independence Day!

 After the rants and raves about the education scenario it is time for something more soothing and heartwarming. So who else should we talk about but one of our very special kid. Handle with care are the words we often use when referring to Radha, our little Angel with glass bones who dropped from the heavens into our lives five years ago. In spite of her heartbreaking condition and her 50 and more fractures this little lady is a spunky one. In spite of the fact that she lives in terrible conditions she is always beautiful. Even though she dreams of walking knowing she will never be able to do so, she dances like a star.

Over the years we have tried to always handle her with care but I must confess our handling is often limited to carrying her from one place to another. Otherwise the waif is quite agile and mobile. We just need to protect her from her classmate who can tend to be rowdy.

Radha has never been touched gently. The past local physios we had were too scared to touch her. I guess she is only touched by her mom and by the doctors who put her casts on when she breaks a bone. So when Cedric a physiotherapist from France came to spend a fortnight work with our kids and training our staff, Radha was introduced to soothing physiotherapy. Cedric massaged her with tenderness and Radha was on cloud nine. She even accepted the little harder exercises meant to strengthen her muscles. It was heartwarming to see her. I hope that we can now bring a little joy and soothe her fractured body. The little one deserves all the tender care she can get.