The buffalo and the jackfruit. Sounds like a Panchatantra tale or a La Fontaine fable. Not quite. One could call it a tale of a fable but not of yore times but of India today! In February the entire police force of a district of biggest State in India went into a tizzy. The reason: seven buffaloes belonging to a political bigwig were apparently missing. Within minutes of the theft being reported, the whole police hierarchy sprung into action. Even sniffer dogs joined the search. The more the merrier! The buffaloes were found seven months later.

Yesterday or is it the day before it was the turn of two jackfruits were ‘stolen’ from the Delhi residence of a Member of Parliament. As soon as the call was received, a police posse with a team of the finger print bureau arrived in a jiffy. It aspired that two jackfruits were missing from the jackfruit tree. There were nine at night and seven in the morning. I guess the politician counts his fruit every night. Unlike buffaloes, jackfruit can be chipped and eaten in no time and probably have turned into poop by now. No one would keep them rotting for the cops to find and anyway being jackfruit season how on earth can you identify one from another. I wonder how the police will solve this one. They are waiting for forensic results and the poor staff must be under the scanner.

The two stories made headline news of course. Oh darling this is India! And the jackfruit story is nowhere ended. I hope some poor kid is not nabbed so that the case can be closed. As I write these words a police team is on the job.

These stories raise many issues. In a country where so many crimes remain unsolved because of the paucity of police personnel, where a city like Delhi has one cop for 671 citizens, it is absurd that more than ten cops are busy looking for two miserly jackfruit that are surely digested by now. They should just hand the MP two jackfruits and be done with it, but the man is a Shylock and will want his pound of flesh in the form of a culprit to punish I guess. Why did the man just not let this go. the fruits must have been stolen to be eaten by someone who must have been hungry. Now the whole affair has been given a security angle and this is serious matter. But I ask, what about the security of the common man who gets you elected and puts you in a sprawling bungalow in a city when many live in black holes!

This is again a case of two Indias where in one children go missing and the Police refuses to file an FIR and another India where two humble jackpots have all the sleuths on their toes. Sadly this is a reality we have learnt to live with and even accept. I wonder how ‘we’ react at a news item such as this. Smile! Sneer! Or simply move on without a thought. Actually we are the so called educated have turned into tortoises who conveniently slink in our carcasses when we are most needed. That two darned jackfruits should create such a shindy is unacceptable in a country where girls are raped, thousands of children die of malnutrition and millions sleep hungry. It is probably a bunch of kids who scaled the wall of the bereaved MP and stole them. Maybe they were hungry. Maybe they could not bear their mother’s despair, or maybe simply being children they felt like eating JACKFRUIT! I remember sneaking into the neighbour’s house with my cousins to ‘steal’ a mango or two. My nana’s garden had its own mango tree but somehow the forbidden one tasted better.

Is it not time we found her voices and raised our concern over such perry matters. Come to think of it all the salaries of all the men on khaki examining foot and fingerprints are paid with our damn money and if I have no objection in them spending time looking for a rapist or a kidnapper, I certainly am livid when they spend my hard earned money looking for a piece of crap, as those two jackfruits have by nod turned into shit.

And talking of human excreta, I found a delightful story while researching for this blog that should make us sing the praises of the JACKFRUIT! Did you know that the biggest contribution of this underrated fruit is, guess what, to the Indian Railways. It was because of this humble fruit that toilets were introduced on trains in India. This is recorded history. Don’t believe me then click here!

For the past week I have been knee deep – figuratively – in poo! It all started when some time back a wannabe philanthropist who landed in my life via the pristine greens of the Delhi Golf Course courtesy the husband, informed me of his desire to bring about what would be called at best a poo revolution. He wanted to build 5* toilets across the land, specially for women. It is true toilets and women have of late been connected for the worst reasons possible: rape, following the horrific rape of two teen age cousins. So every one wants to build loos. I second that whole heartedly and hope that the dream of every home in India having access to a toilet become reality and keeping in mind the magnitude of the problem the more the merrier.

In a brillant Ted Talk, Rose George talks about crap seriously. I urge you find 14 minutes to listen to this talk. The figure are staggering and shocking for the likes of us who take a clean, flushable and modern toilet for granted. More than 40% of the world population defecate in the open. 620 million in India still defecate in the open. And it is not simply a women safety issue, the consequences of this open defecation is mind boggling. 50 known diseases travel in human shit. Open defecation is one of the important contributors to malnutrition, and malnutrition, as my regular followers should know by now, is the cause of 5000 children under 5 dying EVERY DAY. So toilets suddenly acquire a whole new momentousness. In a recent study, UNICEF suggest that open defecation is an important threat to human capital of developing countries and a sanitation programme which includes hand washing can reduce diarrhoeal diseases by over 40 per cent and respiratory infections by 30 per cent. Diarrhoea and respiratory infections are the number one cause for child deaths in India. So talking of poop becomes serious business.

But let us come back to my philanthropist whom I met last week and his vision of toilets. Like many he has good intentions but scant knowledge of the reality on the ground. I was somewhat like that 15 decades ago when I started pwhy but was saved by the intuitive decision of only surrounding myself with people from within the community pwhy worked with. I also saw the good sense of listening to them and quickly and quietly burying my highfalutin ideas! Probably the one sensible decision I took.   Had I gone my way, pwhy would have been dead and buried by now. But let us get back on track. The ‘vision’ that was revealed to me over sips of single malt, was over the top and doomed to fail were it to begin. I listened patiently to the man who told me he had done a study and selected the best ‘model’ and wanted women to have a 5* loo experience. We are of course talking of urban slum and rural women who defecate in the open. The model was the one that had got the first price in a recent competition organised by known philanthropists. I heard him patiently and at the end of it all I thought I would share my lifetime sensible decision with him, hoping he would accept it. I simply asked him if he had even been to an urban slum and talked to actual and potential users. I thought I had exceeded my ‘brief’ but was relieved and excited when he accepted and promptly took down my number. I must admit I though he would never call, but call he did.

Yesterday afternoon, under a blistering sun we drove in a swanky car to our Okhla centre where in spite of it being past school time, the staff and some children were waiting for us. After a quick visit to our centre that was sizzling under its tin roof but where students and teachers including a volunteer from the US were busy learning, I asked my staff to take him for a pooh walk. It meant visiting ‘homes’ and whatever toilet facility existed in the area. David, our very own Boston volunteer, decided to take him to visit one his student’s home. The ‘home’ in question was a sunk in space barely 20sq feet with a tin roof where 6 people lived! There was noway in the world one could place a toilet in this ‘home’, let alone a starred one!

Next stop the communal toilet block built by the Municipal Corporation. When we had begun our work some 8 years back this block was built but locked. We badgered the local politicos and the block was made functional. This block cater to 4  camps or 1500 people. It has about 10 toilet cubicles for mean and 10 for women. At any given time at least 2 to 4 are unusable because of being blocked. There is poop everywhere and the smell is nauseating. Users have to pay 1 to 2 rupees per use. In a large family it makes a substantial amount per month! In the evening and night women feel unsafe as the place is then surrounded by drunks and anyway at 10pm the place is closed. The maintenance is sub contracted and the contract often given by the local politician to one of his sidekicks. He in turn ’employs’ someone who collects the usage money as salary! The place is ‘cleaned’ by water only. When there is no water the place is simply closed!

I need not say more for you to realise that a large number of these 1500 citizens of this city are forced to defecate in the open. One of the favoured place is the railway line you see in the picture. This poop tour that had begun in a somewhat light mood suddenly become another deafening scream and a grim reality check. I found myself in a time warp, and was again standing on a road in the blistering summer of 2000 where Manu let out his heart wrenching cry that seared my soul and changed my life. I was never the same again.

David and the Okhla girls

Seeing the abysmal and unacceptable state of the public toilet located a stone’s throw from my very own centre was a rude wake up call. Had I sunk into such a comfort zone that I had become impervious to the needs of my children? Was it sufficient to gloat over glowing report cards and beaming smiles? I felt very small. Why had I never asked myself how these wonderful children who have made me so proud and brought indescribable joy into my life survived day after day, where they went to the loo at night, where they bathed. The questions are endless and as each one comes into my mind I feel that much smaller. I felt the old Anou come alive again.

I had thought that there would be no more poop tourism. Far from that. The next day another call from the same gentleman and more visits to the loos of Delhi. You can get inured to many things in this land of ours but the state of the toilets in the Khader Resettlement Colony and the Govindpuri slums were horrific and vile. I do not think there are sufficient adjectives to define the experience. In one of the books at Madanpur Khader JJ Resettlement Colony there were three community toilets: the first was locked but the stench was nauseating to say the least, and the reason for it being locked was that the person in charge had gone to lunch. Quite understandable as no one whose sense of smell is alive could eat in that place. The second one was locked and a peek into it showed us that it has been locked for years and completely plundered of every and anything possible. What remained was a carcass!

The last toilet block was in use. It was the pits. Many toilets were clogged, the stench of urine and poop was foul, there was poop all over the place and more where they should be none. In that filth a woman stood in silence with three young children. I do not know how she could bear the stench but I guess humans are tough birds and get used to the worst if it is a matter of survival. I discovered later that she was the wife of the man who had been given the ‘charge’ of maintaining the public conveniences. These toilets were apparently built before the arrival of the resettlement colony inhabitants. Many of these are from the Nehru Place and Alaknanda slums. They were given between 20 and 12 square yards of land upon producing a token that had been distributed in the V.P. Singh regime and paying 7000 Rs. The state of the community loos was such that in spite of the minuscule plot of land, most of the residents built a ‘toilet’ some on the roof that you accede via a precarious staircase and making you wonder how old or disabled people poop. It is also evident that it is only the poorest people who cannot afford to build a toilet that have to visit the communal loos.

It is no wonder that the maintenance is so poor. We met the man in ‘charge’. A tired looking thin man who seemed to carry the burden of the world on his frail shoulders. In seems that the blocks are built on a supposedly and ludicrous sustainable model as the in charge only gets to keep the money collected from usage 1 to 2 rupees. In that he has not only to feed hid family but keep the loos clean. He is given nothing: no broom, no pail, no disinfectant, no floor cleaner, no soap- nothing! Normally it is a jet of water, if water there is, that is meant to do the job. No only that, not all people pay. Some get so violent that the poor man has been beaten more than once. A woman goon even slaps him every night as he refused to pay her a 20 rs a day commission. On a good day he makes 150 rupees.

No wonder the loos are in such a bad shape!

The Govindpuri slums were worse. Two blocks located outside the slums as there is no space inside. The state of the loos was unmentionable and poor Dharmendra had to forego hind lunch and dinner as he was the ‘chosen’ one to go in and take pictures. These slums have five blocks fro A to E and each has an average of 500 homes. @ of 5 people per home it means 2500 persons have access to 2 blocks. Come evenings and no one can venture there as the watering holes are close and the drunks a plenty. Wonder where people go.

The question that comes to mind is what is the solution and that is where one is lost. Giving people toilets does not in anyway ensure that these will be kept cleaned and used in a responsible manner. This has been amply proved by now. So upgrading facilities makes no sense if one does not run aggressive awareness campaigns and hope that the penny drops.

In her Ted Talk, Rose George shares an experiment that worked in villages in India. Two identical plates were place at a short distance: one was filled with good food and the other with human excreta!  People sat around and watched. Soon flies appeared and merely went from one plate to the other, as flies cannot differentiate between poop and food. As the flies executed their dance, people looked mesmerised till the penny dropped. There is crap everywhere and open food carts in proximity so what I may be eating is someone else’s shit! That was a big no no! Toilets were made pronto.

So what is needed is a campaign where one can make people aware of defecating in the open and this can only been done with everyone on board. In a city it means the local biggies, the women, men and children of course but also the goons and drunks! No easy task. Needs to be tried otherwise you could  build the best loos in the world. In no time they would become unusable.

But it needs to be done if we want the 5000 deaths a day to stop.

One thing that the a appointment of a young, feisty, articulate and gutsy woman as our Education Minister has done is given many the motivation to share their views on how to heal our moribund education system. Almost every day one sees articles, opinions, columns, edits and more with suggestions on how to improve education in India. Recently I read one such article entitled the The educated illiterate! An oxymoron many would say. But not quite and I speak with experience as for the past decade and a half I have successfully run project why which such educated illeterates. But this is not the subject of this post.

The subject I guess would be my adding my two penny worth in the debate. I must admit I am a little disturbed by the content of the articles and even the suggestions emanating from the corridors of power. It seems that every one is ‘hung’ up on higher education, creating new IIMs and IITs, allowing Ivy league and other universities of standing to set up campuses in India. A little bird has also let out that our new Minister is contemplating revising text books.

The article I mention poses a pertinent question and gives the required answer: Does she want more graduates or does she want better skills? If she wants Narendra Modi’s promise to Young India to be fulfilled, she will have to create a regime for apprenticeships and on-the-job training to improve employability. This is something I have been debating for long: the need of introducing skill imparting courses that are in sync with the employment market as early as class VIII. The French model of Bac en alternance is a good one. A child who is not incline towards academics can chose this option where s/he attends school for 3 days and works as an apprentice for the other 3. The jobs one can think of are: tailors, hairdressers, beauticians, electricians, plumbers, carpenters, masons, salespersons in malls and supermarkets, repairing refrigerators, air conditioners etc. Finding teachers would not be a problem if one is willing to overlook formal education. I hope our Minister would.

I also agree with the author when she says that we should increase the number of doctors that graduate each year. I was shocked to learn that whereas 1.5 million engineers graduate a year but only 35,000 doctors do so. So maybe we need more medical colleges than IITs!

But let us get back to my concern. Everyone seems to be talking about higher education but in the present situation higher education of the kind mentioned is only available to the privileged few who have money and intellectual ability. For me education is Education for ALL and in the present situation higher education is a pipe dream for millions and millions of children in India.

To ensure that every child who has the intellectual ability –  you cannot begin to imagine how many do – all state and government run schools should impart quality education akin to the one imparted in Central schools also run by the state government for children of parents employed in government institutions. What is the good for the goose in not for the gander!

Education for ALL means that every child born in this country should be given the enabling environment to aspire to any higher education institution whatever her/his caste, faith, social profile. This is what we do at project why with very limited resources and quite successfully. Rohit came to us when he was 9! In July they will be joining college. No big deal, many would say, but that is not the case at all. Rohit is a student of our Okhla centre, a centre we erected in a reclaimed garbage dump, in an area where the closest school is miles away, parents work long hours and children were easy prey for drug pedlars and thieving gangs. Had we not decided to set up this centre in spite of the initial resentment of the local mafias and borne their slings and arrows, Rohit would have been one of the 90% of children of the area that do not complete high school. He may have become a gang leader, like many boys like him. Yet all it took to ‘save’ him was a handful of committed educated illeterates, 4 bamboos and a blue plastic sheet to make all the difference.

So what do we do under the blue plastic sheet and the 4 bamboos? No rocket science. We just do what all schools should do: create an enabling environment for the child to blossom, teach the curriculum that is not taught in schools as it should, smother the child with love and understanding, believe in her/him and try and find her/his abilities and open the world to her/him with creative activities and contact with persons from different part of the world. No big deal! All you need is a heart.

Rohit may not have made it to an IIM or IIT but he certainly has broken the circle of poverty in which he was born with a little help from his project why friends.

This could be a reality for every child if schools ran as they should. Everyone feels that one of the problems is bad teachers. I disagree with them as all the people who make my Team would qualify as ‘bad’ teachers in normal circumstances. Yet year after year they have ensured that ALL project why children finish school. I am sure that all the so called bad teachers can be turned to ‘good’ teachers if one taught them to see with their hearts. True we need ‘good’ teachers but here again the definition of ‘good’ should not be based on certificate and degrees but on a desire to learn and teach.

I remember having joined the French Department of JNU at the age of 22 as Assistant Professor and having done all my education in French was handed over MA students and given the courses no one else wanted: Medieval Literature and Scientific Translation. Some of my students were older than me and some were very leftist in their thought. I was put to test on the first day when one of them asked me a question he knew I did not know. I smiled and told him that I did not know the answer and would find it by the next time – not an easy task in  BG ( before Google) days! I knew I had passed the test and from that day onwards I never had a problem with my students. I had simply been honest!

To circumvent the bad teacher problem and give kids ‘better teachers’ the author of the article suggest technology. She writes: The finest minds have been working on the dissemination of $30 tablets that can be distributed far and wide if there is a will. Can she succeed where Sibal failed? Tech star Vivek Wadhwa believes accelerating the pace of technology adoption is the only solution because teachers cannot be trained and put into place fast enough. On line curriculum can be created and tablets pre-loaded with instructions and video conferencing capabilities can be rolled out within months. Irani, he believes, should give every child a tablet within a year.

I do not quite agree as what looks good on paper does not always work on the field. My first reaction is more on the negative side but am willing to give it a thought.

What I would like our Minister to do is take some simple measures even of they are not in sync with policies and educationists. I would first of all like to see the pass percentage across the Board raised to 50%, the no fail till class VII policy abolished and free education extended from 14 years to 18. This would make a world of difference to the underprivileged and poor children. Before I explain why let me just inform you that the poorest of the poor children have no other option than the local state run school. When the Right to Education was made law, instead of going for the option of improving the and upgrading existing state run schools, the policy makers came up with the absurd 25% reservation for economically weaker sections in all public schools. I do not when we will free ourselves from the shackles of ‘reservation’, an idea mooted with good intent but hijacked by political parties to suit their wily ends. A government that would do away with reservation in all categories would truly free India. The only reservation that is acceptable is the one for economically weak sections irrespective of their caste, creed etc and that too for one generation. Give weaker children extra support in all ways imaginable in school but allow them to fight their further battles on a level playing ground.

I would like someone to do an audit of the children who have benefited from the EWS category in public schools. They will be surprised to see that there few if any really poor children. This reservation had been hijacked by the middle class who are manipulative and can forge all documents needed to meet the requirements of the reservation. The poor children still attend overcrowded state run schools if at all. Unless these schools are improved education in the true sense will remain a dream for those who aspire to be doctors or engineers. You cannot imagine how many bright little faces promptly answer: doctor when asked what they would like to be. I am sure they would make doctors Hippocrates would be proud of.

Today with the no fail till class VIII policy you have children who can barely read or write after sitting year after year in overcrowded classes. We have had such kids come to us and believe you me, within a year of regular support they make up for all true lost years and even become toppers. The no fail policy may work well in public schools that have their own system of internal evaluation and where teachers are held responsible for the performance of the children in their classes, government school teachers who are paid much better salaries but also have connections in the right places, know that they will not lose their jobs easily. Should there be a complaint – a rare occurrence when most of the parents are literate or at best semi literate – they get away with a transfer or a few days suspension. The no fail policy makes them even more lackadaisical and they do not feel the need to teach. Remember 33% is all it needs. I had one senior secondary school principal tell me that they never teach more than 40% of the syllabus. A nice way of slamming all doors shut for these children. One really needs to review these policies in the light of the actual situation on the field.

Lastly I think it is also time we changed the the 6 to 14 free education policy. Education should be till the end of school and that is 18.

Will any one listen.

Come May and Maam’ji starts dreading the holiday homework saga. It is a biannual epic in numerous acts with two main protagonists: Utpal and his Maam’ji a.k.a me! It has many props: copybooks, charts, all kinds of stationery ware and more. The two yearly performances are unpredictable and can go from dramatic to melodramatic and even tragic. It is a surprise package that the unwilling spectators – people living under my roof – are compelled to witness.

Holiday homework in Indian schools is always voluminous and sometimes quite inane making one wonder how it helps children better themselves. I am often amused at the opening paragraph of holiday homework sheets that extols the ‘virtues’ of holiday homework as something fun while also highlighting the importance of visiting other places. Now you are supposed to do all of it. I wonder if the teachers who plan the homework have actually sat down and done it to see how much time it takes, keeping in mind that the child on vacation and at home is not the compliant kid within the precinct of a school.

I remember one year when Utpal had to make Roman Numeral Charts from I to C with matchsticks. It was a nightmare as even I was not able to do it. We had to dip into the pwhy pool of skills to be able to finally make them. Now holiday home work looks something like this in all subjects: revised chapters X to Y;  prepare worksheets for unit test X; make x number of charts,  x number of models; do x number of experiments; write a page each day; cut newspapers articles; visit x shop and write your experience etc. Tires me even reading it and let me tell you no child under 12 can do it by himself.

This time Utpal stayed in school for a study camp and I was hoping against hope that most of the homework would have been completed in the 5 weeks camp. I even sled his academic in charge who informed me that most of it would be done. So my stress levels were lower till the day he arrived with the homework and lo and behold though he seemed to have done the revision and copy work, all the rest was waiting or me. How could our saga not be enacted in its summer 2014 version and how could my summer be complete without the homework epic.

It turned out harder than ever as this time, Utpal having come home later Agastya was already here! Last year I had been able to use the Agastya handle to push Utpal as he too wanted to be free for Agastya and version 2013 turned out to be a good stress buster for me!

Version 2014 is quite the opposite. The mercury is soaring and the heat is on in more ways than one. My nerves have been ‘on test’ since many months and are on edge. Utpal feels he has earned his holiday after an extra five weeks at school and he is spot on. Yet the homework looms on our head and it is a bataille royale every morning and evening. I have prepared all the material but only Utpal can write what needs to be written.

Over the years I have remarked that Utpal uses the holiday homework to test me and he does believe me. This time as we had to meet his psychiatrist as we are hoping to taper out his medication, I shared this problem with him. He just smiled and told me that this would happen as I was the only constant in his life and he needed to reassert his place in my heart. Children being clever, he had found my Achilles tendon. This would continue till he grew up in his head and felt safe without the need of having recourse to challenging behaviour. Dr G told me to find a strategy and that I could even resort to incentives if that worked. It is only when Utpal feels secure that he will stop.

Dr G went on to explain that every meaningful relationship needs to be put to the test and we constantly do so in life, often without realising it. Come to think of it this is very true and almost surreptitious.

Most of us have several meaningful family relationships whereas Utpal has just one. I will just have to play along.

So this version of the saga will be done as patiently and indulgently as possible and I hope we both survive it with a smile.

5000 – 208 – 3.4. These are the number of children under five who die every day-hour-minute of malnutrition and malnutrition related disease. These diseases have fancy names: Kwashiorkor, Marasmus etc and the signs of malnutrition are many from moon and simian faces to dry eyes and bleeding gums; from enamel mottling teeth and brittle light hair to wasted muscles and skeletal deformities; from distended abdomen to poor memory. Next time you stop at a red light and a beggar child raps at your car window with his hand extended just look up and you will see some of all of these signs. Malnutrition also weakens the immunity of the child and thus s/he is likely to get infections and water related diseases. The children die of such diseases because they are map nourished.

One child dies every 17 seconds. Imagine how many will in the time it takes you to read this post. But I guess it will still seem surreal to the likes of us because we know this cannot happen to our love ones. So a statistic that should send us in a rage does not because we look at it dispassionately and remain unperturbed.

But this statistic, the one that SCREAMS at us at one child dies every 17 second because of being malnourished should actually make us hang our heads in shame and express our anger as this would not have happened if Government programmes that are three decades old and have been  paid by each one of us, had run properly. I am referring to the Anganwadi programme under the ICDS scheme.

This week a leading magazine runs an article titled Dying Malnourished In The IT Hub! It exposes how the outrageous way in which the ICDS programme runs in Bangalore. The article refers to death of three children six months ago that had led to a huge public uproar, forcing the state government to promise measures to ensure that no child in the city dies from inadequate nutrition in the future.

You guessed right: nothing has changed on the ground. The Anganwadis (creches) that are supposed to play a crucial role in combatting malnutrition are in an abysmal state. According to activists mid-day meals were not served in any of the anganwadis in Bengaluru for three months from January to March.

The article runs us through the action plan that had been drawn in the light of the outrage. One of the decisions was to open 40 anganwadis.  Nine months after the meeting, not a single anganwadi has been opened by the state. Not even a building has come up. Responding to a Right to Information (RTI) query, ministry officials said that they are still in the process of recruiting teachers for the anganwadis. The minister was unavailable for comment.

How do you react do this. I am speechless.

The question that comes to mind is that if food was not served where did the money go. What is interesting to note is that in spite of a Supreme Court judgement pointing out that that the involvement of private players as middlemen in food distribution schemes is a violation of the law and add that such initiatives have led to disastrous results, including corruption, the mining giant Vedanta was given the responsibility to distribute mid-day meals to 2 lakh children in four districts. Recently  the government decided to involve private companies in mid-day meal distribution in three more district. And to add insult to injury in 2012, a probe by the Karnataka Lokayukta had revealed that officials of the women and child development department were syphoning off funds meant for mid-day meals in connivance with the contractor, a company called Christy Friedgram Industry.

What do you call humans who feed on starving children!

I have often written about this issue and am writing once more because that is the only weapon I have. We have a new Government at the helm and it is promising to rectify matters but it is no easy task. How do you stop those who have tasted blood. And even with all the goodwill in the world a man and his team, however honest and motivated cannot handle the rot alone.

It is for us to take up the cudgels on behalf of these poor children and lend them our voice. There are anganwadis in every area so as concerned citizens why not visit them and ensure they work. We have the skills required and the persona that makes us heard. But will we do it or keeping on avoiding the eye of the beggar child every time we stop at a red light.

53% is the number of households who defecate in the open in India. This is according to a World Bank study. So about 300 million women have no access to toilets. The two young teenagers who were gang raped and hung on a mango tree had stepped out of their homes to relieve themselves. This is probably the only time women step out of their homes alone and thus become easy prey to sexual predators. One of the village women revealed candidly that Men go out in the day, so women can go only early in the morning or late at night.

The likes of us cannot even begin to imagine what life can be without access to a toilet. I remember a friend of mine, who was spearheading a nutrition programme for pregnant and lactating mothers, being told by the very group that she was targeting, that they would not alter their eating pattern in anyway as they had ‘trained’ their bodies to be in sync with the 3 to 4 am slot the women of their village were given to defecate in the field.

That was just an aparte.

Let us go back to the link between rapes and lack of toilet facilities. Maybe a sensible thing would be to initiate a massive time bound programme to ensure that every home has access to a safe toilet 24/7/365!  A community led Total Sanitation Campaign is in existence since 1999 but it seems as always to have been lost in translation.

As I have often held we are masters at quick fix solutions and crisis management and once again this is what seems to be happening once again. Even before one could say Jack Robinson, a leading NGO working on sanitation has ‘decided’ to  construct toilets in all the houses of Katra Shahadatganj village of Baduan, where two sisters were allegedly gangraped and murdered last week while they went to relieve themselves in fields. I wonder how many rapes it has taken for them to decide to take such action and above all why the previous Governments have not given this critical problem the attention it needed. It is estimated that India needs 120 million toilets. Time to address this with urgency.

It is said that 60% of the rapes in the state of UP where the horrific crime occurred. We have smart statistics and even quote them but what have we done about the issue. You would not believe me but many of the project why children who live in slums like the one in the picture do not have access to toilets. The ‘water tank’ you see in the picture is empty. It was the water tank atop a community toilet that must have once been inaugurated with much fanfare and lauded as an achievement, and then abandoned as it had got the initiator the brownie points sought. The families in the area use the railway tracks or any kind of privacy they can conjure. This is South Delhi.

Today Shining India cuts a sorry figure across the world. The US stated : it is “horrified” at reports of sexual violence and murders in India! The UN Chief is  appalled by the brutal rape and gruesome murder of two teenaged women in India who had ventured out because they did not have access to a toilet.

How many times are we going to hand our heads in shame and then get on with our lives.

An interesting article in today’s newspaper sums up the situation spot on. it states: So instead of flinching, keep looking for clues to how dalits are seen by far too many ‘other village folks’ in those upsetting photographs until you are horrified enough to do something about it. I wonder howling it will take in a scenario where those at the helm quip ‘boys will be boys’ not realising that such words travel faster than light and what may have bees said on the spur of the moment within a contact – the now jaded excuse of every politician who says an inanity – and become a reflection on us all and compelled the United Nations Secretary General to state: We say no to the dismissive, destructive attitude of ‘Boys will be boys’. Together, we can empower more people to understand that violence against women degrades us all. It is very shameful for us Indians to have to hear this, when we as a collective conscience should have been the ones to cry out loud.

So we will build toilets in a frenzy that will soon peter out. But let me ask you whether you really believe that building toilets will stop predators from prowling. They will simply have to look elsewhere. We cannot keep all likely to be raped  women shut in a country where you can be raped at 70  years of age or if you are a few months old!

You do not want rape to happen than build toilets and lock every female – from birth to death – away! I have a better solution kills us all, and then live and grow old till the last man standing. End of the story

If you are raped it is always your fault. In the city it is your clothes, your life style etc that incites rape and in the villages it is your caste, as is that gives the feudal lord and his kiln the right to ravage you. In the article mentioned above and aptly entitled Until we recognise caste atrocities for what they are, they will continue unabated as in Badaun, the author looks at the horrific scene from the likes of us’s point of view and says While we take in the contents of these photographs — of the two teenage girls who were raped and then left hanging from a tree last week in Katra Shadat Ganj village in Uttar Pradesh’s Badaun district — we also quietly take in a different set of information: so these are dalits in a UP village in 2014 India. Our brain searches and fails to find any distinguishing feature to mark it as a gathering of dalits. So this is how dalits look like, we tell ourselves.

True we may sort of connect with the short dress, smoking and drinking view but a girl like the one hanging on the tree does quite tick as to us caste remains a vague notion that happens in some other world! As the author states What the display in Badaun underlines is caste not just as demographic pie charts or identifiable target groups for social welfare programmes, but also as an all-too-visible bar code for higher castes in vast swathes of our sovereign socialist secular democratic republic to identify prey. Whether we like it or not, this dehumanising tradition thrives in many parts of our land.

Many of my colleagues belong are Dalits and believe you me, they have qualities that I have rarely found in the supposed high castes! Yet they tell me how even today in their villages they are not aloud to draw water from the main village well; they have to get off their bicycle when they passed in front of the house of a high caster person; they cannot smoke in front of any person of a higher caste; their wedding parties with horse, band and music can only happen outside the village. After they hanse danced and frolicked, the music stops, the groom gets of his horse and the wedding party moved quietly across the village to the house of the bride. No wonder many now chose to have their weddings in the city by hiring wedding halls and playing their music to their heart’s content!

But this is the reality of India version 2014. This is happening a few kilometres away from where we live. It is time we took on our responsibilities and dirtied our hands. In 2014 we chose democracy over family rule. It is not enough to celebrate a PM who has risen from the soil, it is time every Indian enjoys the same rights and above all the right to true freedom.

I urge you to listen to the words of this rap. They are heart rendering. Here are a some snippets:

An educational system isn’t worth a great deal if it teaches young people how to make a living but doesn’t teach them how to make a life wrote activist David Suzuki. It makes a lot of sense but to reach there, we in India have a log way to go. At present our system does not even teach children how to make a living, let alone how to make a life. Education today for a large part of India’s children, I mean those born on the wrong side of the fence, is abysmal and practically non-existent. We have first hand knowledge of this as this is what we have been doing for the past decade and a half! Teaching children who attend  State run schools! What is heart breaking and wowing at the same time is to see how easy it is for these kids to catch up and reach the top. A child who may have spent 5 years in school and not learnt to read let alone write properly, needs just a year to come up to the mark. We can barely help a handful.

I saw a TV clip yesterday and it broke my heart.

It is a clip about a school in Bihar where there is a building where 4 schools run, one school in one room! What is heart breaking is to see the children in these images. Far from being unruly or inattentive, they do the best they can in the circumstances and the desire to learn is palpable in the eyes of these children. Shame on us and shame on any Government that allows this to happen. Again and again we seem to be masters at letting down our children. I wonder whether those in power watch such programmes of have a way of finding out the reality on the field. Sadly, it does not seem to be so as even in India’s capital city, conditions in government run schools are pathetic.

I hope our new Minister will look at the realities on the ground and before embarking on sweeping changes, will do something for the immediate. I was perturbed but I guess not shocked to see an article stating that the new Minister wishes to include Ancient Texts in the curriculum. I guess it was to be expected though I would have thought that she being a young mother who has children in school does realise that all is not well in our education system. I would have liked her to audit the ground realities and try and see what could be done to better the plight of the children NOW in school.

I agree that many things need to be reviewed but there are some that need immediate attention. If we go by Suzuki’s words and look at school as a place that does nor just help you make a living but should teach you how to make a life, the onus upon those to whom we have entrusted the responsibility of imparting the right to education now enshrined in our Constitution to our children is huge. I have nothing against teaching ancient texts and for that matter would love seeing our children learning about ancient texts of other civilisations too, but as things stand now the State has not been able to provide even the basic needed to impart quality education. There are schools without teachers, and without desks and drinking water and toilets: the list is endless. Maybe the first task that needs to be done is fix what one can for the children in school now.

We were all taken aback by the results of the Teacher Eligibility Test in 2013 when 1 in every 56 candidate cleared the exam! We are again shocked when we learnt that Indian children ranked 2nd last when tested on their reading, math and science abilities. The only country they beat was Kyrgyzstan. Yet Indian children do exceedingly well when given an enabling environment. This not only the case of Indian children studying abroad but also of Project Why children who study in State run schools and often come to us with huge lacunas, but make these up in a jiffy and stand their own after that. And this I would like to underline is with the help of untrained teachers. Yet these very teachers have the true skills required for children to succeed: patience, love, motivation and commitment. For us every child is a winner and is so treated. It is up to us to find the spark and ignite it. So on a short term I strongly believe that what we need is motivated people who could pull up the children bogged in the system, children who cannot wait.

It is sad that our present education system dos not even teach people to make a living. This is because of internal flaws in the laws that seemed to have been drafted by people who either do not have children, or have forgotten what education is all about. I will again stress the need to rise the pass percentage from 33 to 50% and to put in abeyance the no fail policy till class VIII. This policy can only work if the teachers are committed and proper internal assessments are done. In many state run schools, answers are written on the blackboard and dutifully copied by the students. I can never forget  the stand-offish manner in which a secondary school Principal told me that they only covered 40% of the course as kids could pass with 33! What they do not realise is that by doing this they shut all the doors to higher education as in today’s India you need 99%+ to accede to a  state run University where fees are still affordable. So it becomes imperative for all schools, particularly state run ones to ensure that children get the best education possible and a level playing ground. Now this can happen only by raising the standards of state run schools so that they become an option for middle class parents who I know will welcome this with glee. Only a quality common school system can usher the change we want or pretend to want. As long as political parties will go the ‘vote bank’ way, this is a long time coming.

Another aberration is the age span for free education: 6 to 14. We all know that the 0 to 6 interval is very important to the child’s growth and learning. Pre school teaches many skills – motor, social, conceptual – that prepare the child to formal schooling. Whereas ‘rich’ kids have literate parents who become their first teachers and are sent to pre schools when they are 36 months, kids from poor homes spend these years on the street, often cared for by a host of people, hearing foul language and  learning poor habits and develop a set of skills that often become a hindrance to their schooling. In many homes they never see a book or newspaper and the only written word they may see is what is printed on boxes and packages. Transiting from forced free spirits to a world of supposed structure is difficult.

True a scheme was mooted more than 3 decades ago which was supposed to run creches where such skills should have been taught. But these are a total failure and need to be re looked at and reinvented. I would urge the new dispensation to include pre school in the free school ambit. That is the beginning but what do you say to a compulsory school system that ends at 14 when the child would be in class VII or VIII. A right to education should mean a right to schooling to the end. 14 makes no sense at all, more so when rather than improve state run schools, the Government has come up with yet another aberration: 25% reservations in all schools for poor kids, what happens to a kid when he reaches the age of 14. Does he leave school, revert to a state run school or have his father rob a bank to pay the high fee. However the reality is that this facility has been hijacked by clever middle class parents so in fact, nothing has changed for the poor children.  

Another flaw in our system is that it presumes that every child should get the same schooling all the way till class XII. With the 33% saga it means that you may have a lot of semi literate kids with a school leaving certificate. Now all kids are not intellectuals and even if they were, the market forces needs other skills that can be taught whilst still in school. It is time we widened the science-commerce- art triad to include vocational skills and even hands on training. A class VIII kid interested in car or bike repairs could begin learning this skill and going to a maintenance centre let us say twice a week so that by the time he finishes school he is ready to join the skilled work force. I hope someone in the corridors that decide the fate of children, think about this. Sadly what we have seen in the past years is scant out of the box thinking.

Children are not and should not be guinea pigs. The CBSE introduced the Formative and Summative Assessment and open book examinations: Some of the main features of Formative assessment are that it is diagnostic and remedial, provides effective feedback to students, allows for the active involvement of students in their own learning, enables teachers to adjust teaching to take account of the results of assessment and recognises the profound influence that assessment has on the motivation and self-esteem of students, both of which are crucial influences in learning. I wonder how many teachers are capable of comprehending this system, let alone using it at all. These can only be successful with well trained teachers and the state run school kids face a double whammy here: uninterested teachers an illiterate parents. Before jumping into new areas it is imperative to ensure that all capabilities to implement them are tested and functional. This is a long term game and not one that can be imposed at the drop of a hat.

Teaching children about ones own culture should not be frowned at, provided it is done in a comprehensive and inclusive manner. All children in the French school system learn that our ancestors the Gauls were good warriors. I did too. But this was in junior classes and as we grew up the curriculum widened and by the end of one’s schooling you had a well rounded education. To give just you just an example which will I hope make my point clear, the French Baccalaureate, when I passed it,  had both a written and an oral exam. The oral exam was to test your ability to think out of the box. History was an oral examination and the curriculum was World War II to present times, in my case 1967. There were no choices, you actually picked a question out of a ‘hat’ and were given 20 minutes to prepare. The question I got was: Had World War II been lost by the allies, what, in your opinion would have been the present economic situation. There is no right or wrong answer. You just needed to defend your point. No matter how much you learn by heart, it will hot help you unless you understand what you learn. In counterpoint to this anecdote, when I wrote my first year Philosophy (Hons) papers in Delhi University, it was replete with ‘I think’ and ‘in my opinion’. I failed! My teacher told me to put all my thoughts in quotes and put a French Philosopher’s name, and I would pass. I did and passed with honours! Get the point.

To teach to make a life and not a living, it is important to help children learn to think for themselves and find their solutions. It is impossible to show them that there is more than one ‘right’ way. Education stands on the famous Delors Pillars of learning:  Learning to Know, Learning to Do, Learning to Live Together, and Learning to Be.

When I look at education in India, I wonder if we even achieve one of them.

It has been about 5 hours since I wrote my blog about the horrific gang rape and hanging of two young teenagers and my decision to raise my voice against such shameful occurrences till someone finally breaks the deafening silence. Five hours is all it took to be at my post again! Another teenager was gang-raped in the constituency represented by the supremo of the ruling party of the State. She was seventeen. And if that was not enough to get us seething, a rape survivor’s mother was brutally beaten by the father of the rapist because she refused to withdraw the case against his son. This occurred in the constituency of the Chief Minister of the same state, and the son of the aforementioned supremo. No arrest has been made while the woman is battling for her life.

I again want to reiterate that the strong, developed and inclusive India that our new Prime Minister wants to usher cannot begin to see the light of day as long as such horrific incidents continue to happen. Women constitute 49% of the population and if they are not included then India cannot be considered a blessed land!

The Badaun rape case as it seems to be known now seems to have got the attention of one and all. I am not a follower of Antisthenes but a sense of deja vu fills me with despair. I guess sufficient meat to prove my point. What do you say when you hear the Chief Minister of the State where these horrendous rapes have taken place under his watch and in his family stronghold tell a journalist who ask him about the abysmal law and order situation quip: “You’re safe, right? You feel secure?“. Let us not forget that it is the supremo of the same family who said some time back: boys make mistakes. The mistakes he was referring to was rape!

I do not see justice being meted in these circumstances. Some arrests have been made is what the State Government in a report to the centre and the guilty shall be punished. Why do I find this hard to believe?

An article that appeared touches a chord, if not many. It touches upon our reaction to such horrors. I will quote some lines that I found disturbing and yet so true: Sometimes a picture is not worth a thousand words. The photographs of the two Dalit girls, raped and strangled and then left dangling from a mango tree in Badaun have caused a firestorm. On one hand it’s been blasted as the “pornography of rape”. On the other hand, it’s been described as a jolt to wake up a blasé society where rape, especially out in the badlands of UP, is commonplace enough that it does not make front page news anymore. 

There is a point there. We are so inured, so numbed by the never ending horror story of rape that it seems we need to descend ever lower into the pits to be shocked to attention. It’s as if faced with a rape story, the media has to ask the question “What’s new about this one?” Is it a toddler? A foreign tourist? Or now is it the horrific spectacle of these two teenagers hanging from a mango tree while a crowd of villagers including children gawk?

The author ends his article with these terrifying words: If indeed we now need to see the “strange fruit” on our mango trees to be shocked, it begs the question about what kind of people we have become anyway.

These hard hitting words compel us to some serious soul searching. Have we really come down to this or will this photograph be the turning point we so need. Will it at least makes us accept that we have become people who are inured to atrocities as long as they do not touch our own. How many more such horrors will we have to see before we let out the cry that can bring about justice to all girls in our land.

Enough of these band aid and feel good solutions. Sadly our new Minister for women who is a woman herself has gone the usual way. She blames police laxity, and promises to create yet another rape crisis cell. She is also ‘willing’ to ‘recommend’ a CBI enquiry should the parents so wish. Come on what is the willingness and recommendation nonsense. The parents want JUSTICE and want this to never happen to another woman again. We want a Minister who is willing to think out of the box! We are fed up of ‘enquiries’ ‘commissions’ and such other jaded options. We are talking of young girls whose lives were brutally truncated before they even began. The little girl watching the scene must be thinking: is this going to be my fate to?

It is time to take the bull by the horns and to change all that needs to be changed. It is not the purview of one Minister or one department. It is concern of all the 49% of us! We have to get rid of everything that is feudal be it the police, the politicians or the so called feudal lords. We are a democracy. Don’t we love repeating this, so let us be a true one and right every tort.

Let us make these two beautiful girls the turning point and not look back!

It is one of us who could raped.

The new dispensation has fixed its top priorities, ten of them reminding us of the ten commandments! Priority number 2 states: Prioritise education, energy and water. Mr Modi has repeatedly during his campaigns said that the expectations of the education system remain to be fulfilled. This is music to my ears as I have always propounded that only quality education for all will help bring about the India’s of our dreams.

I have my take on education and state with conviction as for the last almost decade and a half I have been up close and personal with what goes in the name of education in our capital city. I have often written about this but feel that few take heed of my rants and raves. But I will soldier on stubbornly in the hope that I am heard.

Education in the other half of the city, the one the previous dispensation even hid behind giant placards during the infamous Commonwealth Games , is nothing but a sad and now jaded joke played year after year on millions of voiceless and helpless children. Though the city has large earmarked plots for schools, the ‘schools’ built on them can vary from enabling to forbidding. While some have adequate buildings others have one storied barracks with asbestos sheets and yet others have tents and classes in the open. This in a city with varied and often inclement weather. Some have desks often broken and splintered making them dangerous for children, some even have desks that are too high for the students who learn standing. I guess getting someone to cut the legs is an administrative procedure that may take ages! Toilets and drinking water facilities are also of diverse degree: from adequate to non-existent. A toilet without a door is a no no for a young girl you will agree. Where there are ‘playgrounds’ these are often unusable and dangerous. The husband recently was willing to upgrade the grounds of the school next ground and get coaches and equipment but was met with the hydra headed monster of red tape even though he was not asking for a penny and was creating the facility solely for the children of the school.

I could go on and on but I guess you get the picture. But there is more. After 67 years of Independence we have not been capable of building sufficient schools for the children of the capital and hence the same building is used in two shifts and our boys go to school in the afternoon when we all know capacities are diminished. And if that was enough, classes are overcrowded. In some cases there are over 120 kids in a class. This is mostly the case with girls, are even illiterate parents have now understood that the state run schools are not up to the mark so send their ‘sons’ to the myriad of private schools that have mushroomed to fill the gap.

In this situation the abysmal pass percentage of 33% and the no fail policy till class VIII is a no fail policy for large numbers of drop outs post class VIII drop outs that sometimes can barely read and write.

I would urge our new Education Minister to please hike up the pass percentage to 50% as elsewhere in the world and to reframe the no fail policy in a way that it ensures that a child moves on to the next class only if he has mastered the curriculum of the class s/he is in. Whatever the reason for lowering the pass percentage – I was told it was to increase the number of ‘graduates’ to access funds – it is absolutely detrimental to the child and no one has the right to play with any child’s future. I cannot begin to count the number of kids we have salvaged from these conditions, kids who have not only passed but become toppers.

The children of India deserve better and I hope our new PM and Education Minister will stand by them. They have waited for far too long!

This picture is not from some old western. Nor is it a shot from a movie set in medieval days. This is a picture that was taken a week ago,  214 kilometres from where I sit and write. It is making world headline news and simple Googling for the words – cousins – rape – India – will show you how the story has been picked across land and seas. I normally do not like putting such pictures up but this time I felt the need to do so. It is high time we garner the courage to look straight at this horrific picture and have the guts to hand our heads in shame more so because, we are today on a high after the elections and rearing to make India count. Sorry, but until we ensure that no such horror happens we cannot aspire to that dream.

As you can see, the picture is of two girls hanging on a tree. They were so hung after being gang raped. The girls were Dalit – low caste – and the perpetrator of this heinous crime belonged to a higher caste. This reminds one the jus primae noctis an alleged legal right allowing the lord of a medieval estate to take the virginity of his serfs’ maiden daughters. It is yet again of the assertion of feudal lord to assert their old on the weaker communities. The police as always did nothing till the villagers refusing to hand over the bodies forced the administration to book the constables who had refused to act. Ultimately the guilty were ‘booked’ but the girls aged 14 and 15 were no more. As usual local politicians spouted empty words, the Government ‘promised’ action and the Central Government ‘sought’ a report from the State Government. The toothless Women’s Commission has also sought a report.

If you visit our new Prime Minister’s website and leave a ‘message’ you will, after an initial acknowledgment, get a response in a day or two.  The message says:

India is a blessed land, known for its glorious culture. It is our land that has shown the way to the world time and again. Today, we need to once again ignite the lamp of progress that will take our nation to greater heights and I believe together we can.

Once again I thank you for your wishes and I seek your support and participation in our endeavour to create a strong, developed and inclusive India.

When you see the picture above, the words make no sense. How can you be strong, developed and inclusive if revolting incidents like the one recounted above continue with impunity. How can you quote your past glory when the present is outrageous. And these are not isolated incidents. Far from that.

Rather than celebrate the hope that seems to be the flavour of the day, I hang my head in shame for my silence and my total helplessness. I hang my head in shame for our collective muteness and apathy.

We need to stop limiting our rants and raves to what we feel affects us and resort to guilty silence when the crime is perpetrated on people who we consider outsiders. Last year we somehow found our voices when the young woman was brutally raped in a bus in the capital. True a woman who went to see an English movie in a mall sort of made it to our ‘kind’ and the fear became real. But how do two little village girls in a remote area get our sympathy and make us take the cudgels for them.

The two teenagers were Indians just like you and me, they are constitutional rights just like you and me, they had dreams and hopes just like all teenagers even if theirs were somewhat different. The humiliation, pain and horror they felt whilst being raped was the same we would feel if it were to happen to us. The terror they must have experienced when they knew they were dying was no different from the one we would feel. I can go on endlessly. They were someone’s daughter, granddaughter, sister, friend.! And yet no one helped them in their distress, even those who are paid to do so. On the other hand they became willing partners in the crime.

Our December 2012 rants and raves did not amount to much. Rapes have not stopped and the perpetrators are still alive, but even their walking to the gallows would not make a difference to the crime rate. Our voice has to rise each time such an aberration occurs and we should not keep silent till the time they stop. I urge you all to do so in whatever way you feel comfortable with.

I hope our new Government gives the attention needed to these crimes as they mar the image of India in a way we cannot wish away.

The latest polemic in town is the issue of our new Education Minister not having a degree, the hallowed piece of paper that opens doors in India. To me is it is absolutely a non issue and will elucidate my take as we go on. However it has become a free for all that may just boomerang on the initiator! It is the question of the day on some channel, and has created a TwitterStorm so let us try and see which side we stand on.

For the past decade and more I have had ample proof that degrees and certificates mean nothing on their own. I am well placed as for the past that many years I have been working with a bunch of great people who have no degrees or certificates but are doing jobs that I challenge anyone to do. I am taking of my staff at project why which was selected after an intuitive decision of mine to source all my staff from within the community. I needed ‘teachers’ to ‘teach’ kids from class I onwards. Now the community where I was on the prowl had scant degree holders and had this been an imperative in my search I would have found no one. I knew what I was looking for and also what I wanted from them: passion, dedication, motivation and the desire to learn. I realised many women had some education that had often been stopped in the tracks because of marriage; I also found some very bright souls that had ‘dropped’ out of school not because they lacked ability but because of some decision of illiterate and over caring parents. The feisty woman who heads a large part of project why is one such kid. When she came to me she had been taken out of school by her doting mother who did not want her daughter to go back to school after she was severely punished for being a few days late in paying her fees. The young girl had been made to stand in the sun and had subsequently fainted. Today she has certificates and degrees more for form then anything else and runs the project with great aplomb! This kid, as kid she was when I met her, is an indubitable proof of the fact that common sense laced with a passion to learn can move mountains.

My other co-ordinator may have had a degree but that was not why I selected him. I selected him because when I first met him and discussed some social issues, I was amazed at how alike was our thinking processes, our values and our approach to social issues. I decided that I needed him by my side and have never regretted what one may call my impulsive decision. He runs my women and children centre with tact and flexibility and has a solved many a thorny issues that even I couldn’t have.

Both these wonderful souls have been my guides and given me not only support but the best advise I could have hoped for and unable me to grow project why to what it is today. Without them I would have stumbled, fallen and even failed. Yet they do not have swanky degrees, do not speak the Queen’s  English or have the ‘profile’ that is usually sought for such posts. What they have in ample measure is compassion, understanding, street smartness and belief in what we do. I could not have asked for more.

The team my two stalwarts lead is also partly  degree less or possesses degrees that have no value at all as is the case in India where 33% is still the passmark to graduate. It is sad that our education has come to this. I have had young men with BAs and even MAs from other States and the street worthiness of these degrees is nil. Actually they more often than not, prove a hindrance as in many cases it gives the ‘graduate’  a sense of false superiority. We have had such young men who have ‘refused’ to work under a woman coordinator with less education. Obviously we bid them a hasty farewell. But that is the exception to the rule. Team project why is five star and as the proof of the pudding is in the eating, kids they have taught have never failed and some are now gainfully employed. As I write these words I just got a call that one of our students has secured 96% in his XII class! I am waiting with bated breath for all the results though I know it beforehand. My kids have never failed me. All this, with teachers who have scant certificates!

Before I end this post I must mention one more person who proved beyond doubt that diplomas and certificates are not needed when you have a mission. Somewhere circa 1998 I had to make a decision that, though incomprehensible to most, was the only one I could make if I were to be worthy of being a mother. I decided to withdraw my younger daughter from school as I knew it was destroying her spirit. This wonderful kid had told me when she was 9 that she knew what she wanted to do in life: care for people with disabilities. I nudged her as gently as I could and as far as I could down the conventional line of diplomas and degrees. She played the game to the best of her ability but there was a moment when we both knew we had reached the end of the line. Even if I had the whole world against me, I knew that I had done the right thing for my child. She began training with autistic children at the age of 15 and has never looked  back. Today she handles the special children of project why with élan and confidence and has years of experience that no one can match. She is to the manor born!

Over the past years I have had the opportunity of testing some candidates with so called degrees. We had an MBA from one of the new universities that love blowing their bugle and come at a heavy price. I was shocked by the total lack of skills of this young man who barely could write a mail in proper English or for that matter handle any of the tasks assigned to him independently. I am glad he found a job as he did not meet our criteria.

We have also had a few persons with certificates in special education but sadly they have not met our standards as they lacked the compassion and common sense approach that is needed when you deal with students with diverse disabilities and varied ages. In a way I am glad that they too found greener pastures. Come to think of it, the ones who have stayed on came with no degree in special education but with their heart in the right place.

So to me degrees and super degrees do not matter; what matters is how you perform on the ground and more than that how you tackle challenges. Our new education minister may turn out to be a better one than someone armed with Doctorates and Post Doctorates. I am sure she will master in thinking out of the box and come up with the solutions our children urgently and desperately need. She comes with a fresh mind and the desire to prove her detractors wrong.

In India’s capital city which is in celebration mood with the arrival of a new government, a man killed his wife and two daughters aged 2 and 6 months. Their crime? Well the former had not given him a son, and instead born two girls that also needed to be killed. The man and his mother had tortured the poor woman for her inability to ‘produce’ a son and of course for not having brought enough dowry. But let us forget the dowry issue but get back to sex determination saga. To have a boy you need the Y chromosome and that is something a woman DOES NOT HAVE. So she can never be responsible for the child not being a boy.This is a scientific fact and unless we petition to God to change things, this will remain a reality. This was discovered in 1905 by Nettie Stevens who realised that sex determination is due to the presence and absence of the Y chromosome. Women do not have it so how can they be held responsible for something they do not possess biologically.

However it seems to have been traditionally held that women were the ones who determined sex, and  over the ages, women have suffered the worst humiliation for producing girls. In some cases, like the one   cited above, a woman had to pay the ultimate price for something she is completely innocent of. What happened to the innocent until proved guilty!

I have been nurturing the dream of another project, this one named project Y that rhymes with, as my grandson would say as he is into rhyming words, Why! I wonder why, whether it is in biology curricula or sex education, this fact is not made crystal clear. Even to children one could easily say: papa provides the seed and mama the place for the seed to grow. Now whether the seed is an apple or an orange depends on papa. If little boys and little girls were told that at an early age, then the millions of women would not have to suffer a cruel fate.

I know such a project can only work if it is done on a large scale by the State machinery on the lines of an earlier family planning programme initiated many decades ago when catchy slogans appeared everywhere: Ham do, hamare do – we are two, we have two -. I have been thinking of a slogan but my      copywriting skills are not the best. So if somebody can come up with one, it would be great.

As I said this is mammoth task, one that large international agencies should have adopted long ago. To my mind, it would also bring a perceptible change to the number of children born, while of course freeing women from a ‘crime’ they are innocent of.

But who will bell the cat or even cats I should say? That is the question. In our country sex is taboo and considered ‘wrong’, though it is the basis of creation. Hence sex education is defiled by some fringe elements who want to ‘protect’ the honour and tradition of the land. But it is time we talked about it and if the word S** is offensive, then find one that suits your misplaced values, but it is really time we talked about it unabashedly. How can we as a nation, hold our head high when a woman is murdered with her two young children because she gave birth to them!

Will the new Government which has the numbers look at this problem with honesty and courage so that no woman has to ever pay the ultimate price for bringing a little girl into this world.

Dear Prime Minister

Coronation Countdown is what of the news channel has chosen to name the hours before your swearing in today, May 26th 2014, 18 00 hours. As I write these words, the clock is ticking and we are about 8 hours away. I like the use of coronation for your taking over the helm of our country as I view it as the coronation of the voiceless people of India who after being perhaps bedazzled or simply manipulated, believed that their future lay in the hands of those who used ‘poverty’ as a clever political plank. I too must admit that for some time I fell under that spell and was convinced that all the programmes targeted at the poor would ultimately rid us of the shameful bane of poverty. Today I admit my mistake.

There have many new age theories that propagate that the more you talk about something, the more you attract it and hence it seems that we have collectively erred for brandishing the banner of poverty high and loud. True millions in India are poor and this something we must be deeply ashamed of, but we must view them as part of the whole or in other words as Citizens of India. I would like to think of today as the coronation as these citizens who I hope will finally be given a voice. You have said time and again that you are the Prime Minster of 125 crores Indians and that is what we want to believe.

I do not want to rain on your parade as today is your day. You have proved without an iota of doubt that India is a country where anyone can aspire to and become Prime Minister. You come to the hallowed grounds of the land with a story, a story that every Indian can identify with and thus you become a role model, something we Indians did not have. As you rightly pointed out, those who fought for Independence and even paid the ultimate sacrifice cannot be emulated as we have to live for India. Today the humblest heart looks up to you and feels that s/he to as an opportunity to break every ceiling that till now weighed on his head. With you at the helm, no ceiling is strong enough if you have the will, the honesty and the motivation to succeed. I would urge you to put an end to the bogey of poverty that has too long been a stranglehold.

I know that you have your task cut out for you and its is nothing short of Herculean! But I also pray that these tasks do not entail the falling in the crevices of oblivion, of issues that plague people everyday and tar India in a shameful manner. Most of these are due to the arrogance and feudal attitude of the machinery that we finally bid farewell to.

Without raining on your parade, I would like to remind you gently that on this 26th day of May 7000 citizens of India will die of hunger and of these 5000 are children under 5. This has to end not by handing a few kilos of grain a month in the name of food security, but by setting into motion actions that will entail self sufficiency in every family. Indians are proud people by nature and should be rid of the humiliation of having to beg for what is and should be a right granted by the Constitution. I would like to again draw your attention to the story of Ashok Kaurase who walked 35km in scorching temperatures as he was told that his compensation for crop losses had been credited to his account. It had not and on his walk back, he collapsed and died 10 km from his home. The post mortem indicated that there was not a grain of food in the 50 year old’s stomach. The family had not eaten for days. This happened a month ago. The man had made many trips to the bank to be told that it would take more time. The sum was a paltry 4200 Rs, but to him and his family, it meant life or death. That the money was credited a day after the news was reported is to my mind highly suspect. I tried to find a link to this story but could not. It has appeared in this week’s The Week with the title Hunger Strikes. So you see Prime Minister, even what is promised never reaches in time. Maybe your first step should be to ensure that promises are kept and to make those in charge of implementing such programmes aware of the fact that they are not giving charity and need to respect the dignity of the beneficiary. Such programmes are a sad reminder of our failure in implementing the constitutional rights given to them on 26 January 1950. Deaths from malnutrition have to stop specially in a county where grains rot in the open and food is thrown with impunity.

On this 26th of May, Sir, 6 women will be raped and 14 molested in Delhi. This too has to stop and here again it is not simply by sending a rapist to the gallows that we will solve the problem. Gender equality is again something that will need to be addressed by setting into motion changes in the mindset of those who believe in the inferiority of the female sex. Education can play a role in this and  we need to shed our apprehensions about including sex education at an early age. Little girls are raped and abused  in our country. They need to be taught the difference between good and bad touch as early as possible. And the teaching of the role of X and Y chromosome in determining the sex of a child needs to be explained loud and clear to ensure that no woman ever has to suffer the pain of being held responsible for not bearing a son.

You have given hope Prime Minister to every Indian whose heart beats for India and in your coronation we see the coronation of every soul born on this land.

I wish you success and fortitude.

An Indian

Whenever a person in uniform with his cap on enters any space where I happen to be, I normally get up. It is what I have been taught by my parents: RESPECT. If it is someone dear to me then I am quick to ask him to remove his cap so I can give him a hug. I know how puzzled my staff felt when in early Project Why days I sprung up like a jack in the box even if the beat constable entered my office in full uniform. Yes, the very beat constable who has known for his harassing and his corrupt ways. It is only when he removed his cap that I sat down. It was the very woman whose father and loved ones were mercilessly beaten by men in uniform who taught this as there was a difference: the ones who beat my granddad where working for the coloniser; the one who entered my office represented free India. That he was despicable was a matter of his conscience, not a reason to disrespect an institution in free India.

Everyone is busy giving their bit of  ‘advise’, probably unsolicited, to the new Prime Minister. I guess in a democracy that is what you do. You find these in debates on TV, in magazines and newspaper and of course on the social media. I often read them hoping to find some views that concur with mine, particularly on education. I found one in a recent magazine entitled Focus on Quality and Innovation. I rubbed my hands in anticipation as these were words that echoed mine and I was eager to know how the proposed changes would benefit my 1000+ kids. As I read on the glimmer of hope was replaced by a sense of despair and deja vu! Don’t get my wrong, everything that is said is more than politically correct and well articulated and there is a time line that goes from 100 days to 5 years. The first thing that should shock us all is the fact that a blue print made 67 years after Independence should: outline a five-year vision and ensure every child is able to read and write by Class IV. Now this means that either we have not thought it necessary for 67 years to ensure that every child read or write or that all previous governments have failed miserably to address education as a priority or else that education has till now been a great way of garnering funds and pockets. It is sad that in 2104 we are still making a blue print for literacy. But let us go on.

The rest of the article gives excellent technological inputs and solutions that no one can argue with and even, and that was music to my years as I have been suggesting for years now, the creation of an Indian Education Service on the lines of the Indian Administrative Service. But most of the suggestions will take time and as I have always said children cannot wait.

I reread the article trying to extract what could be applied to my kids now, as kids cannot wait 1, 2 or 5 years. A 12 year old will be 17 in 5 years. This 12 year old, a girl, studies in a secondary school in South Delhi and there are 125 students in her class. A period is for 35 minutes. Now how can a teacher, however good s/he might be, teach anything in these conditions. By the way, girls are told to bring a gunny sack or equivalent so that they can sit on the floor after all the benches for 2 have accommodated 80 odd girls. In these condition, I am sad to say, none of the technological tools make sense, and I forgot that electricity often plays truant. Now as the teacher follows the no fail policy till class VIII, s/he does not feel any pressure to ensure that the students are up to the mark. You amble from class to class till class VII. You may barely have learnt to read and write. We have had students of class VII with a class II knowledge. A year later those children have caught up and even excelled. All that was needed was someone to teach them. By force majeure we too have overcrowded classes and sit on the floor, but our passion and the student’s motivation make us winners.

The author of the article suggest allowing outcome-based private remedial centres to be set up. For the past 14 years we have done just that and more so done with untrained staff from within the community, limited resources, scant space and no charge. The proof of the pudding lies in the fact that since the time we began no child has dropped out and every student has passed his or her Boards, some with distinction. It does not take much to redress the situation and though we would have loved to have all the technological and pedagogical support suggested, we managed quite well, even if I say so myself. If we could do it, I am sure many could provided they had the passion to do so, the same passion that our new PM recognised in the freedom fighters who gave their life for the country. He told us we had the opportunity to live for the country. I guess what he meant was to do something for the country. Without all of us, nothing will truly change. Are we ready to make this ‘sacrifice’.

What does it entail you may ask. Giving up some of your ‘goodies’, some of your ‘time’ and repaying a debt you owe to every Indian who has made it possible to live a life of ease. It would be their children that you would be helping.

The author of the article also suggests that a law be enacted  that makes parents will be liable to punishment-say with forced community service-if their children are not in school. Though again it makes perfects sense on paper, the reality is quite different as I learnt on the field at my expense. I believe that most of the parents are now quite aware of the importance of education and also of the fact that State run schools are of poor quality. This has enabled the mushrooming of zillions of private schools charging moderate fees and where many parents send their sons. The girls are still sent to State run schools. In the same school running 2 shifts (girls in the morning and boys in the afternoon) there are 45 boys in class VII and 125 girls in the same class. Get the picture. So in my humble opinion the reason why parents do not send their children to school is not because they are not aware of the importance of education but because of other realities. Girls are often kept back to look after siblings as the mother works; some parents have jobs that are nomadic in nature. Take the case of this little imp. This picture was taken circa 2003. She was one the brightest kids I have ever met and was an avid learner. However she left us soon after this picture was taken as her father worked with contractors and moved on. While in our area, they lived on the roadside like many labour do. Her father was a drunk and a gambler and her mother who must have been married at a very young age was abused by her husband. The little girl must be 15 or 16 now. Maybe she has been married off as is often the case. But the fact is that her education was truncated because of the nature of her father’s job and the unavailability of any school for such children. If her parents are forced into community service, how will they eat. And how do you solve the problem of all the beggar children. There has to be a way.

So let us get back to a roadmap for our children who we are agreed upon cannot wait. Hence we need a ‘band aid’ solution while lofty programmes are drafted and implemented. I can only talk of Delhi as I have first hand knowledge of the ground reality. Maybe a first step would be to redress whatever shortcomings there are in schools. The picture you see is real. The desks were too big so rather than cit the legs, kids were made to study standing! You may find it funny but to me it is the saddest picture and the example of the callousness and insensitivity of those in charge. So let us have an audit of schools and sort everything that can be sorted out now so that today’s children benefit. Most of the State run schools are in tents or single storied building. More tents could be erected while new floors are made. The speed at which builders erect private buildings is mind blowing. Maybe the same zeal should be applied to schools.

There are many things that can be done now. The question I ask myself is whether this hands down approach will be taken or whether everything will be lost in dreams of larger goals that may or may not be met, while children study standing or cramped in classes where they can barely breathe.

These children who remain voiceless, would like the Prime Minister to know that they cannot wait!

And the winner is… we all know who. Curtains have fallen on the biggest reality show ever and one must admit the silence that follows is nothing short of defeaning even if during the past months we have been wanting all the din to end. Come on, let us be honest we had got used to the show, in spite of us, as no matter where you went, what time of the it was, which channel you switched on you were greeted by the next episode of the great Indian tamasha: Election 2014. And even if one may never admit it in public, one has surreptitiously watched all the channels derided by all! Now that is all over, though channels will still try and stretch the last steps of Government forming to the maximum, come Tuesday things will have to settle down and the new formation allowed to deliver. I do hope that every step of theirs will not be dissected and taken apart to increase viewership and hence TRPs. One needs to give them time to discharge their mandate. That is what common sense says.

But I guess the media will always find something to badger you with day in and day out, the latest being the new episode of the AAP soap. Government should govern and opposition should oppose sensibly if we want the country to prosper. The nit picking that we see far too often is not in the interest of anyone.

I do not know if I am for or against, though I know I am pro a strong Government that acts and a CEO that communicates! For the rest only time will tell. I pray that lumpen elements which exist across the board will be kept in check and that every action or utterance will not be viewed with the ‘secular’ angle. This secularism bogey has to stop.

The social media is replete with Letters to the PM, mine included! These offer suggestions or express fears. I hope someone in the entourage of the new PM will look at them as many have positive inputs that come from the 125 crore people he has often mentioned. This morning I was surprised to see An open letter to everyone writing open letters to Modi on my Facebook page. It makes interesting reading if you keep an open mind. The only part I object to is putting all NGOs in one basket and branding them as corrupt. I agree that there are such organisations but want to say that there are people like us who do our bit to make India a better place dipping into our meagre pockets should the need arise. Not all NGOs want to keep people downtrodden,  endangered,  marginalised and victimised. We work because Governments have failed in the past and because children cannot wait for things to happen, they have to helped now, tomorrow is too late for them. I, more than anyone else would like to see my work made redundant today but I am not wearing blinkers and I know that there is a long road to travel before we see no child out of school. For this not only do we need a strong and honest Government, but also an awakening of the like of us with our education and privileges, who should express our outrage loud and clear when we see something that disturbs us: a child begging for instance or working in your neighbour’s home.

I hope our new PM will not surround himself with a bunch of people acting like his eyes and ears. I hope the voice of simple Indians who care for India will reach him. In the days of the Internet and social media ably aided by Aunty Google that should not be a problem.

No matter what the supporters of Prime Minister Modi say, his task is not an easy one. People are expecting miracles and no one can conjure them in the given situation where the rot is so deep. In my very humble opinion, one that comes with a decade and a half of working and learning from the other India, I would suggest looking at what is in existence and bringing short term solutions. For instance a simple audit of schools in the capital can at least ensure desks for children, drinking water, toilets with doors and so on. That is a beginning. A visit to the anganwadis (creches run by the State) could entail working weighing machines, proper nutrition, visits by doctors etc. Such small interventions would be visible and keep hope afloat.

I would also humbly beg the new incumbents to have a look at primary education in India which seems to have not given the results expected. In my mind the no fail policy till class VII can be a good thing in well run schools but in State schools it translates into children in grades IV, V even VII who can barely read. We have had many such children and are proud to say that all of them have made up and some are even topping their classes. It does not take a miracle to ensure this. And also I would urge the new functionaries to do away with the 33% pass percentage and increase it to 50% as that is the minimum required to get simple jobs. Why do we want our children to be 33% educated! To me it is a matter of shame. And believe me this is important as the Principal of a Senior Secondary school told me that as the pass percentage is 33% they only cover 40% of the curriculum. This in response to one of my militant visits to know why the syllabus was not fully covered.

If we want to change India, we have to change its poorest and that means quality education for all. It also means altering the curriculum and including vocational studies as early as class VII. Every child is not academically inclined and so if s/he were to leave school with a certificate as well as skill knowledge, her/his chances of employment would grow exponentially. The skills should be selected keeping the market forces in mind: tailoring, beauty training, plumbing, staff for retail outlets, etc. That would bring the real change we all seek.

The show is over and the winner is and should be India. That is what we voted for.

As I mentioned in my previous blog  I have not been out on my bi weekly peregrinations for a week, as my man was away so food becomes the least of my concern. I guess it is a counterpoint to the obsessive food management needed for Ranjan. I  cannot count the number of tomato sandwiches I have gulped in the past week. Anyway, one of the shops I go to is in Mehar Chand Market. We normally take the Sewa Nagar flyover and imagine my surprise when I saw a big new display board on a house stating: HINDU MAHILA SANGATTHAN – apologies for my photographic skills which are abysmal -. A simple translation would be Hindu Women’s Association I guess. Anyway the board was not there last week I promise. Is this a precursor for things to come, I hope not.

As I travelled along to my destination, my mind decided to wander in another direction. The words on the sign stated Hindu woman and I began asking myself what is a Hindu woman compared to another woman. Be you Hindu, Muslim, Christian or atheist you are before all else woman, the other half, the often denigrated one. You are considered a burden as you have to be wedded at any cost. You are the misplaced repository of the honour of the family and that entails all kind of injustices. You are denied a voice and can be used and abused at will. If you are born in a poor family, whatever your faith, you may be denied an education, given a different diet than your male sibling, married off as soon as possible. In your husband’s home you are under the yoke of the mother-in-law who is the same be she Hindu or of another faith. You will be derided should you not bear a son, no matter X or Y chromosomes. Actually this happens also in educated homes.

You are not safe on the street, not safe in your home environment, not safe anywhere if you do not have a male protector be it your father, brother, husband or son and that happens in all families. You are taught to hate the other without any plausible reason. As a little girl you play the same games, and as you grow up like the same songs, movies, actors and so on. You have similar dreams and feel the same pain when they come crashing.

You feel the same pain when you give birth to a child and cry the same tears when you lose a dear one. The blood you shed every month is red, and the one that flows when you hurt yourself is red to. The colour of your blood or your tears cannot tell me your religion.

In this election we have seen attempts at polarisation and heard the word secular again ad nauseoum. For electoral gains politicians use religion to divide but this time it looks like it did not quite work. I see a glimmer of hope in our beating this monster out of our lives and hope that signs like the one in the picture is an exception to the rule.

For me secularism means respecting all religions as this was what I was taught by my parents. I grew up in lands of different faiths. A friend of another religion meant that many more festivals to celebrate together and that many more goodies to eat. It also meant praying in different places of worship as my parents never stopped me from going to a church or a mosque or a synagogue. I am lucky that this was many decades ago when communalism and extremism had not raised their ugly heads.

The women of India face the same problems and need the same solutions. What differs is more the social strata they come or whether they live in cities or villages. They all need water, food and toilets. There is no Hindu or Muslim in these matters.

I hope our new masters will remember that we are just women.

The whole of last week, I have been happily housebound as the husband is away. This meant that I did not have to go to my sundry treasure troves of organic goodies spread across town. The last week was also the one that changed Indian politics forever and for the better we hope. Many who have voted our new Prime Minster in have done so regardless of the candidate of their constituency or the baggage the man comes with. They all voted for change with a capital C and were willing to pass over the past were the man to deliver the dreams he sold. For some it is the end of corruption, for others it is regaining pride as a nation; for some it is access to new jobs, for others it may be revival of the economic slump; for some it is prices coming down and for others simply getting 2 square meals. The expectations are high and the time is short as the people of India are angry, hurt and impatient. They kept their part of the deal – gave an absolute majority – now it is for the new incumbent to conjure his, and I use the word conjure because he does need to deliver miracles.

There are still some who fear this man and feel that his reign may augur for all of us and more so for the minorities. An open letter to the PM highlights these fears should you be interested in reading it. But I guess the fear everyone talks of comes from the bogey of secularism we have been fed ad nauseum and that has been kept alive by politicians as polarisation of any sort, be it caste or religion, suits their agendas and vote bank politics. However, when we look at the results, it seems that the electorate has obliterated this fault lines and voted across the Board. Maybe the game has been exposed or maybe every one realises that these bugbears belong to times gone by. The electorate voted as a Nation and we need respect that. I strongly feel we should give the new incumbents a chance before crying wolf.

So as I was saying, as the husband is on his way back, I need to replenish the larder and hence set out on my fixed beat to get all needed for the man’s regimen. The first stop was at a general store whose young owner has become a good friend and who pre election was not in favour of the party now in power, but as any young intelligent Indian he too was willing to give a chance to the new Government. We got on talking about many things and also about FDI in retail, something that according to those who oppose the policy would hurt shopkeepers like him. What he said warmed the cockles of my heart and made me proud to be an Indian. He simply said: people should have confidence in the Indian tradesman! He, who has been in the business for years said he did not fear FDI in retail as he knew that his customers would always come to him and that is a fact. Take me. I would not travel miles to go to a Carrefour or a Tesco to buy my groceries. I hate hypermarkets and have had my fill when I was abroad and felt like someone out of Chaplin’s Modern Times with my shopping cart walking corridors filled with goods and almost compelled to buy more than needed or even what is not needed because of the promos and other advertising gimmicks. During my 4 years in Paris I longed for the corner grocery shop and the other regular shops I went to in India.

Even if  had a car and drove, nothing would make me battle the Delhi traffic and drive miles to buy what I can get just by making a call and old Mr M charges a few extra rupees, it would still be less than the fuel. But I move in a three-wheeler and these mercifully are not allowed outside the Delhi borders where these new shopping giants will be located. I guess there are many like me we have succumbed to the charm of the proverbial Indian businessman and is not ready to leave what s/he is comfortable with for impersonal and unknown options.

I hope the new powers that will rule us for the next five years will realise the ingenuity and spirit of enterprise of Indians per se and over and above the new jobs they create through economic growth, they will also clear the way for the small people who have a real feel of the pulse of the market and set up shops where needed: be it the street tailor, cobbler or the food cart or even the young man who sets up a 2 day shop in front of an examination centre selling Guide books. They need to be freed from the stranglehold of red tapism and the numerous pockets they have to help fill. In a land has populated as ours we need to open the ways for such initiatives. And those who say, like the last incumbents, that street shops make the city ugly, I would like to state that this is what makes India, Incredible India!

Of course I hope the new Government will look at primary education and the danger of being seduced by Public Private Partnership in education. The children of India will not forgive you that.

A lot hope and a lot of dreams ride on our new PM. May he fulfil them and not lose his way in doing so.

I must admit I felt a little sheepish not going the Congress way this time as this was the party of my ancestors and most of all my mother. But knowing Kamala, even she would not have voted their way as her heart more than anyone else always beat for India. One was vindicated when one came to know about the farce that was enacted in the name of retrospection yesterday. The reigns remain in the same hands. When will they learn.

I will end by quoting what a friend and a retired senior civil servant in the UK wrote to me: I’ve just read your really interesting piece about your new PM. I couldn’t work out what I thought of him in the run up to the Election – humble origins but said to be right wing and divisive etc – so it was good to see him through your eyes.  He offers the kind of hope for a new and better life ahead that I remember so many of us in Britain felt in May 1997 when Tony Blair was elected … but while some good things were achieved by his Government (most of which have now been dismantled by our current lot), he also led us into war and let his Chancellor lead us into economic recession ….   I wish you and India and Modi better, much better!

We all do!

India’s extraordinary mandate given to one man is a watershed moment in India’s history. It is a vote for India. It is a vote that transcends social strata, caste, religion and political ideologies. India has voted for a man who has managed to instil a sense of hope in every Indian across the board. It is also a victory for India’s democracy as a man of the most humble origins, with no fancy education, degrees or western veneer has made it to the highest job. Maybe that is the reason why the humblest Indian has connected with him, or should I say the reason why he managed to connect with every Indian whose heart beats for India. For this one needs to salute Narendra Modi.

I must admit that I never would have imagined that a person like me would salute the election of our new Prime Minister. It is perhaps because what India had become over the past few years was unbearable for someone so deeply in love with her country. The corruption, the scams, the arrogance of those in power, the total absence of any kind of governance on one side of the spectrum, and on the other the total lack of concern for the poor whose every right was denied. There was something terribly wrong. It seemed as if those in power had locked themselves into some ivory tower and were inured to the issues plaguing the poor. Lofty programmes meant to redress problems,   remained just  ‘lofty programmes’ and never truly reached the beneficiaries. They however were good meat for greedy predators.

Over the past months one has seen and heard our new Prime Minister as he criss crossed  the land with zealous fervour. There were times when one felt scared and worried at what the future might look like were he to win. At times the discourse was vitriolic and scathing as the whole tone of this election seems to have been, with personal attacks and counter attacks. But when one heard some of his interviews, he said things that made sense. One was in a quandary. One just kept watching the biggest reality show and trying to make up one’s mind.

The only thing I was certain of, was that India needed a strong Government and a stable one and no matter who came to power it had to be with a good majority. At that time one could not even think of the thumping majority India ultimately gave him; people who pressed the lotus symbol had scant thought about the candidate, they were voting for Candidate Modi! Even the people from the other side of the fence, the one easily manipulated, knew they wanted a strong Government. No one  wanted a PM who was conspicuously AWOL and deafeningly silent. Everyone wanted a Leader, a Statesman, never mind the political hue as by now every voter knows that politicians change colour faster than a chameleon.

Yesterday I heard Mr Modi’s victory speech in Vadodra and it touched a deep personal chord. Before I elucidate the person we heard yesterday was not Candidate Modi, but PM designate Modi, and that was apparent in the tenor of his speech and in the numerous reference to 125 crore people. Anyway let us get to the personal chord. Mr Modi mentioned that this was the first time that the country’s leadership had passed into the land of a generation born after Independence. These words echoed deep in my heart as my own mother refused to marry before India became independent as she did not want to give birth to what she termed as a ‘slae child’.

Mr Modi went on to say that we had not had the privilege of fighting for our freedom, going to jail and bearing the abuse of the colonial masters or dying for our country. I could not but remember the numerous stories I had heard at my mother’s knee recounting the horrors my Nana who was a freedom fighter had gone through. His stays in jails while the family fought to survive; his lacerated back after meetings that ended in severe reprisal that Gandhians like him had to bear without a sound and that a little girl had to nurse; the coarse cloth that Mama had to wear while her cousins wore soft  ones, the glass of flour mixed with water that my grandmother passed off as milk to her children as there was never money for such luxuries. It was entire families who fought for a freedom we never learnt to respect.

My grandfather was a Congressman but one who felt that the Congress should have been disbanded once India had gained Independence as that was its raison d’être. It was a motley crew of ideologies that in his opinion, and the opinion of other I presume, would break apart sooner than later. He had seen the writing on the wall. The Congress we see today has nothing to do with the bunch of young fiery idealists whose life mission was to free India or die doing so. For us, born after 1947, the opportunity to die for the country is not an option, but the question I have often asked myself is why we have allowed things to reach this low, and why we who have a voice and an education keep mute in front of all the aberrations we see each day.

India is not free. It may be free of colonial rule, but it has let down its most vulnerable again and again. Today after 67  years of Independence there are millions of Indians who have been denied their very basic rights. This picture was taken in Central Delhi where a group of Lohars – gypsy ironsmiths – had been living for decades. One fine day, the very administration that had ‘allowed’ them to camp there provided they paid their tithe, came with bulldozers and razed their flimsy homes. The young girl in the picture came back from school to find her home destroyed. It is shameful that children in the capital city of India have to go to school while living on the street. This after six decades of Independence. What freedom is this and why did the bazillions of people who must have passed by this camp over the years never got disturbed by this sight and ask themselves why such people were not given a proper shelter. Imagine having to dress your child up for school in these conditions come heat, cold or rain?

What makes our silence more reprehensible is that the poor live with dignity and honour and survive the worst plight with a smile. When I decided to take up the cudgels on behalf of the Lohars of Delhi, I needed a picture to prove my point. I asked the people in this snapshot to look sad so that I could make my case stronger. All I got is peels of giggles and funny poses. Remember these were persons who had just lost their homes and shelter but would not give up hope. This is the case of millions of people across our land, people who believe and trust that one day things will be better. It is for them that our new PM’s motto ‘good times are here‘ makes the most sense.

Mr Modi says: It is not time to die for your country but to live for your country. This may seem cliched at the outset but just give it some thought. When we look around India with our eyes open we see a growing disparity between the rich and the poor that seems to be deepening by the minute. It is a matter of extreme shame to learn that there are mothers who ferret rat holes to find grain for their children while food is thrown with impunity on the other side of spectrum. It seems that rather than living for India those of us who could and can make a difference have been busy living for ourselves. For a large part of India food, shelter, education, medical facility and other essentials we take for granted do not come easy if they come at all. Yes it is time to live for our country by each one of us doing what we can.

For the outgoing party, the writing was on the wall but it seemed they were to busy looking elsewhere or perhaps they were so blinded by hubris that they could not understand that a new young voter had emerged and s/he had aspirations that differed from their parent’s. The feudal system that had been nurtured in different forms for dubious reasons had surreptitiously vanished and been replaced by a set of young voters who wanted a better morrow.

The young and restless have voted for Modi for pertinent and well though out reasons. They wanted an end to corruption and aspired to change. The common man was fed up with corruption both large and street corruption and above all price rise and the empty promises given by those in power while prices of essential commodities kept rising. The poor was angry when he heard people in high position stating that you could get a meal for 12 or 5 rupees. They were outraged when the planning commission came out with poverty lines that sounded more like a cruel joke: 32 rupees a day! The trust they had reposed 5 years ago had been broken in a cruel manner. Hubris at its best!

Those who voted for Modi did so because they felt he could deliver and run a government that has stood roots on the spot for five years. They may turn against him if he does not deliver what they want: food to eat.

The question is: can he deliver. This election has been a one in a kind as many factors have come together to make the Indian voter vote in an unpredictable manner. Every one wanted change and was willing to give it to anyone who seemed capable to bring it out. The voter was thinking out of the box. The nation was angry for multiple reasons and angry people are willing to do the unheard and that is what happened. They backed Ana Hazare as they saw a glimmer of hope, then backed AAP in Delhi and then dropped it when they realised it did not deliver. The were left with one option and they exercised it as they had not got the answers they sought from the Government in power. Modi had the stage to himself he had to find the right connect and he did, with the 95 million of new voters by giving them a viable future. The question is whether he will be able to rise above his beliefs and be the Statesman we need. Only time will tell but he must remember that the people who have voted him in and can vote him out too.

And for us Indians, it is time we live for India.

Dear Prime Minister

Please accept my congratulations on your resounding victory. The people of India have risen above caste, religion and all divisive groupings to elect you to lead our Nation. Some follow your ideological views but there are others who voted you in because we believed that you would be able to make us regain our pride which had taken a hit amidst the scams and corrupt ways that seem to have become our hallmark.

You have a huge task ahead of you, a task made onerous because of the immense trust people from across the board have reposed in you. Many believe you will become a conjurer of miracles and have high hope in you, hopes that you will be expected to fulfill. It is not an easy task and I pray God will be with you.

I am a humble senior citizen whose heart beats for India and has always done so. Nationalist parents tend to instil this love in their children, particularly children who are born and who grow up away for the Motherland. My father’s dying words to me were: don’t lose faith in India. That was in 1992 and believe me Prime Minister it has not been easy to hold on to that faith.

You have many challenges ahead of you and I am no expert in matters such as economy, finance or other complex issues. I only see with my heart and react the same way. For the past 15 years I have been working with underprivileged children in slums. Today I want to be their voice and try and reach out to you.

Every time we talk of India we take pride in the fact that we have one of the youngest population. One often hears about higher education and the need to create more IITs and IIMs. Sadly we never hear anything about primary education which is now the Constitutional Right of every child born in this land. This is the reality as one just has to step out of one’s house even in our capital city to come across a child begging or working. Mr Prime Minister no child can aspire to enter the portal of an IIM without getting primary education. In today’s India there are millions of children struggling to get a primary education. You will agree that a young demography holds no meaning if young India does not have education and access to sound vocational skills. A recent UNICEF report states that 80 million children don’t complete the entire cycle of elementary education, close to 8 million are out of school. This is a matter of utter shame. Even when children go to school, and I am not taking of schools in remote areas but the country’s capital, they are packed in classrooms where more than 100 children study in spaces made for 40. How can they learn Mr Prime Minister. Our country has failed in providing the very basic education to its children and children cannot wait as they grow by the day and soon it is too late for them. As I humble citizen who has seen the potential of these children over the past 15 years, I urge you to give primary education the place it has in the economy of any country wanting to compete with the best.

Education should not be privatised. There was a time when almost every child went to a Government school and went on to hold the highest offices. We need that Golden Age to come back. Government cannot abdicate its responsibility in this sector. Privatisation is not the answer. Should you go that way, then education will never reach the poorest of the poor and unless we reach them, our country cannot change.

Look at Delhi. It is replete with State and Municipal schools but not only are they overcrowded but they often run in ramshackle buildings and even tents with sometimes no desks! These are often single storied barracks and should be transformed into multi storied schools imparting quality education. More so it is sad that our capital city cannot provide morning school to all its children and so boys go to school in the afternoon, a time not conducive to learning. I do hope you will look at this as though children have no vote, they have hope in you, Sir.

There is one more reality that makes me hang my head in shame every day and that is the spectre of malnutrition and the fact that even today, as you celebrate your big victory, 5000 between the age of 0 and 5 will die quietly in the India you now lead. I urge you to look at this sad and shameful reality and do something. There are some programmes that could have made a difference had they been properly implemented and not hijacked by wily people. ICDS which should monitor children from age 0 to 6 has failed. Had it worked any Indian under 35 should not have been malnourished. You just need to step into one of the Anganwadis in this city to see what a sham and cruel joke they are: a damp hole, a broken weighing machine and a disinterested caretaker is what what will greet you. As for nutrition, as that is what these creches are meant to give, what the kids get is again a handful of puffed rice and gram and that too not everyday!

Mr Prime Minister we cannot have children dying everyday; we cannot have millions of children out of school.

I hope you will hear the voice of the voiceless.

A citizen of India

A few weeks ago we got a huge shock. One of our most important funders informed us that come September they would be reducing their seizable contribution by half! The reason: India was now considered an unsafe place for tourists and as our monies was dependent on the numbers visiting India, there was no option unless a miracle happened. If no miracle then we would have to make a Sophie’s choice and be compelled to close one of more of our centres.

In my wisdom I put everything on hold praying for a miracle or if not that, at least for an epiphany to save my children. It is sad that when anything goes wrong in the country it is always the voiceless children who pay for it. I remember that when India imploded its bomb in 1998, when I had just decided to start project why, many of my friends who run organisations helping the deprived saw their funding cut overnight. Now how does cutting the funds that help an autistic child or a slum kid help make a statement against the policy of a country?  Beats me.

I agree that when a foreign tourist is raped the people in her country would become ballistic and I also understand the negative reaction that will ensue. I also understand the anger we saw when the young woman was brutally raped and assaulted in December 2012 in Delhi. I can also understand the demand to see the perpetrators hang! But sadly hanging a perpetrator, making stringent laws, and all other such solutions cannot and will not stop rape or abuse as statistics have showed. Rapes have not stopped. Rape and sexual abuse is a hydra headed monster whose multiple heads will keep growing again and again unless we are able to find a way to cut its 8 mortal heads and bury his 9th immortal one. But first one has to identify all these heads and work out the right strategy.

Last week a group of journalists from the country of the women who has raped recently came on what is known as a ‘fam’ ( familiarisation)  tour. These are organised by the Government or by the tourism and hospitality sector  to showcase a country/place. The group also wished to visit one of our centres. I met with one of the members and a friend for lunch a few hours prior to their meeting with a honcho at the Tourism Ministry. She suggested I accompany them but I refused knowing I would not be able to keep my mouth shot at the lame excuses and statistics I knew would be thrown at them. I was not wrong. That is exactly what happened. The pompous official took great pride in telling them that India ranked 19th in women’s safety in the G20 list. I guess he must have also spouted out figures to prove his point. I guess there has to be an official view that defends the indefensible!

That was his job and I presume he must have given himself a pat on the back.

The next day the group was visiting us and would want to know my take on the situation. Actually it is this visit that compelled me to put a bit of order in my head and come up with something that I hoped would sound coherent. Before I go on, I wish to say that these views are mine alone and are based on what I have seen and experienced in the past decade and a half and on common sense if such thing exists.

What today manifests itself in rape, sexual assault and targeting of women in varied ways is indeed a hydra headed monster that has several different heads. It all begins with gender inequality and the sad truth that girls are not wanted from the moment they are conceived. This is unfortunately not a feeling solely perpetrated by the male gender, but more by the female one starting with the mother-in-law and so on to the point when the mother itself resents the arrival of a girl child. The seasons are many but I think the main reason is the financial burden of the marriage and if by any twist of fate the roles got reversed, I wonder if it would be boys who would find themselves at the receiving end. Whatever the reason a girl in India is considered to be in the custody of her natural family as her real home is that of her husband’s. This notion is present in the folklore of the land and is the subject of many songs and even film scripts.

In homes today, including middle class ones, one can witness the fact that girls and boys are treated differently in the choice of schools and education opportunities and in poorer homes even in the food given. At a very young age boys realise that they ate ‘superior’ to their girl siblings and often a 12 year old may be found admonishing his older sister on what he thinks is inappropriate behaviour: talking or laughing loud, looking out of the window etc. The mother, instead of scolding the son will simply laugh it off. This is happening even today. I myself was shocked to hear that whereas the number of boys in a class in Government schools was around 40, the number of girls in equivalent classes was often above 100. The reason is simple. Boys are sent to public schools which are considered better than state run ones. These schools charge fees that the parents happily pay for their sons. The daughters are sent to the State school which is free. That is one aspect of the problem that needs to be addressed.

You will think that this has no relevance to crime rates but please bear with me.

We now need to move to another reality altogether. I am talking of a new class of metropolis dwellers that has grown by quantum leaps in the past 20 to 30 years. This is the migrant population either brought by contractors to meet construction labour needs – this has also happened in western countries – or families of have left their villages in search of a better future for their children. These are mostly illiterate families with strict traditions that they adhere to. Today children of these families have grown up with their own dreams and aspirations which clash with their parent’s traditional views. These young people have urban aspirations that are fed by what they see on TV as a television is a must in the humblest of homes and with the advent of credit facilities, people living in slums are able to acquire most of what their kids want.

The TV serials and Bollywood films of today are very different from the films of yore years that extolled values like family and traditions. Today’s movies are highly westernised and seed impossible dreams in the young minds that watch them. A new social group has emerged in cities and with poor quality education, few skills and little employment these youngsters are rudderless. They fall easy prey to drug mafias, gambling dens and political and religious groups always on the prowl for easy fodder.

Early marriage was and still is the preferred solution for raging hormones but the young people fed on TV viewing and urban realities resist these. Even the law has raised the minimum marriage age. Sex education is practically non existent in State run schools. The chapter on human reproduction barely addressed the biological process but does not touch on gender issues. Sex is never spoken of at home and these children have no mentors to go to. They are left on their own and the heady cocktail of partial knowledge, drugs and alcohol, misplaced conception of the position of a male vis-à-vis a female is a recipe for disaster. Another head to our monster!

Another reality that we do not take in consideration is also the change in the social profile of the western woman. Over the past years the colonial attitude that people of my age had to bear when a hippy with dreadlocks was attended to before you in a shop or restaurant has gone. With the emergence of a new super rich class in India who is always on the prowl for new ways of spending their money, one is witnessing the emergence of a new market for young girls from western countries.   Today it is fashionable to have a western lady shower flowers on your guests at the wedding of your son or daughter or even serve at a cocktail. Event planners do offer this service. And we all know about the IPL cheerleaders.

This has brought about a change in perception in the Indian mind one that can have unfortunate ramifications more so because unlike Europe, Indian men are not used to being refused. Blame it on their mothers!

I am sure there are many more reasons but these can at least put us in the right direction. So where is the solution if there is one.

The only thing that comes too my mind that can address the hydra headed monster is EDUCATION! I know it is not magical pill or panacea. I also know that it not a quick fix but will take time and patience but the only way to address all the issues at hand is education that begins at an early age at home and then in schools.

I cannot begin to imagine how many little girls and boys could be spared child sexual abuse if they were taught the notion of good touch/bad touch at home and taught to say no. How many women who not have to suffer the indignity of being told that they are incapable of producing sons, if the X Y chromosome story was told. How many youngsters would learn age appropriate sexual behaviour and   thus handle their teenage responsibly. The list is endless.

The question is how does one make this happen in a patriarchal society, with religious fanatics and politicians who are on the prowl to annihilate any reasonable programme.

Maybe what we need to ask for to counter rape is not the death penalty but healthy sexual education in schools and perhaps tourist guidebooks should include some information about the social realities of India and advised their clients on appropriate dressing and above all dealing with the opposite gender.

This could be a beginning.

I have borrowed the title of this post from an article that appeared recently in the New York Times: What’s So Scary about Smart Girls and chose to illustrate it with a picture of the 1936-1937 batch of girls from Benares Hindu University. One of them is my mother who fought every odd possible to accede to education at a time when girls rarely went to school. She managed not only to finish school but to go to BHU as a resident and then go on to get a PHD. She was able to do that because she had to formidable allies: her paternal grandmother and her mother and browbeat her father. That was 80 years ago.

Things have not changed as girl’s education is still not fully accepted. So it makes you wonder what is it that makes people – parents, religious authorities, political entities – scared of educated women. Let me quote some parts of the article I mentioned above which are quote pertinent. The author says: Why are fanatics so terrified of girls’ education? Because there’s no force more powerful to transform a society. The greatest threat to extremism isn’t drones firing missiles, but girls reading books. The article suggests that educating girls can change demography and quotes a study that found that for each additional year of primary school, a girl has 0.26 fewer children. So if we want to reduce the youth bulge a decade from now, educate girls today. The article has interesting findings and goes on to say educating girls doubles the formal labor force. It boosts the economy, raising living standards and promoting a virtuous cycle of development. Asia’s economic boom was built by educating girls and moving them from the villages to far more productive work in the cities.

However what really caught my attention was when he states that to fight militancy, we invest overwhelmingly in the military toolbox but not so much in the education toolbox that has a far better record at defeating militancy. This is something I have been repeating for the past decade and a half over and over again. Education and education alone can transform society.

I have been on the receiving end many times. I must confess that the first time I was thrown out of a park by a posse of little politicos simply because I was teaching a bunch of slum kids under a tree, I was dumbfounded. How could teaching children be a danger to anyone. But as time went on I realised how dangerous it could be to those who wanted society to remain static as it suited everyone’s dubious agendas. As time went I understood why the pass percentage was kept at an abysmal 33% as it would ensure that the child was unable to accede to higher education, why State run schools are poorly run and cannot meet the growing demands, why the Right To Education has absurd flaws. Education can rock their boat forever.

I was recently informed that one of our funding partners would be curtailing the size of their donation. The reason was that India was no longer Incredible and thus westerners were shunning it. I guess we are talking of rapes and women safety. I felt terribly sad as it should have been the other way round as helping those who are trying to educate underprivileged children would ensure a safer India. But this is no quick fix solution. It is a long haul but the openly way we can see the change we want provided our patriarchal society, our wily politicians, our corrupt officials allow this to happen.

This afternoon I caught bits and pieces of one of the last election pitches of the star candidate of the ruling political party. This party has been in power for almost 6 decades. However to me the substance of the speech was 6 decades to late. Actually I was reading an interesting book while the TV was own in the background. Most of the time it was the annoying drone one has been forced to get used to. Thank heavens the election saga was under 60 days or as science has proven this jarring and ear splitting campaign could have become a habit we may have found ourselves missing one the show was over. Anyway let us get back to the point in question. As a real member of the second sex, to borrow Simone de Beauvoir’s expression, I am good at multi-tasking, a skill honed to almost perfection during my booth simultaneous interpretation days when I often found myself listening to and then translating some technical speech while writing my postcards! So while I was engrossed in a fascinating book on the Defence of Food, my ears perked up to the content of the speech where the candidate was speaking about heart surgeries a subject dear to my heart – excuse the pun! I snapped my book shut and was all ears. The candidate in question was I guess enumerating the ‘perks’ people would get were his party voted to power again. He was talking about having met ‘mothers’ who came to him as their children had been diagnosed and needed open heart surgery which he estimated at costing 4 to 500 000 Rupees. I have been looking for a transcript of the speech but did not find it. He went on to say that if they came into power the Government would pay for these costly surgeries. I could not but help smile as one does not have to be a rocket scientist to know that the funds will never reach true beneficiaries but get lost in transit and the child in question, who to quote his words has 2 years to live, would certainly die.

I could not help but go back to 2006 when a man hobbling on a stick entered my office with a sheaf of papers in his hand and utter despair in his eyes. He had knocked at every door possible to help him get the money required for his son’s heart surgery. Every door had been banged at his face though in a country where reservation is made a panacea for all ills he came under more than one category: OBC and handicapped. I could not remain a mute spectator. His son was operated upon and is today a smart young lad in class XII. Since we have repaired more than 20 broken hearts and the cost is nowhere near 500 000 but 100 000 max! I felt sad for the thousands of simple souls listening to the words being thrown at them and trusting what was being said as I knew that they were just words and nothing else.

There were many promises made in this speech, promised that as I said were 6 decades too late. Education was also promised. Education that is now a Fundamental Right for every child born in this country. Then my question is: what happened to the children who beg at red lights or work in tea stalls. The promises were lofty and years too late. The Act that came after almost 60 years or 3 generations and is totally flawed. Maybe what politicians needed to promise in Election 2014 was a simple engagement to ensure that all past social policies and programmes would be implemented in their true spirit. We do not need new ones; it is they who need new ones to garner their pockets. Have you ever asked yourself where the 2%  on education levied each time we eat out and pay our taxes. One would have thought that our taxes went to education and social programmes. An interesting article debates the issue. It says: What could be more important for our country than spending on basic education, public health and basic infrastructure? Whatever the government spends on these heads must be fully financed from its primary revenues. In other words, these subjects should have the first claim on the government’s resources. Whatever might be our politics or ideology, no one can deny that these should be our priorities, and after we have adequately provided for these, we should spend on other things. Why then does the government charge a cess for education and another cess on higher education? This seems to suggest that the fundamental priorities of the government are not concerned with improving the lot of the poor, the needy and the citizenry as a whole, but something else. So the question is what is that something else?

To this I would like to add that its time we asked where does the money go! More so because the Right to Education Bill is so drafted that it will never reach the poorest of the poor. Instead of using all the money levied in taxes and ceases to upgrade existing schools to a level which would even attract the middle class to them, as was the case many years ago when the plethora of public schools we have now did not exist, the State chose to come up with its absurd notions. The Bill has been criticised by many as it chose to ignore quality altogether. Today in Delhi, there are in certain schools more than 100 children in a class. Forget all else. 100 kids cannot learn anything in 35 minute periods. To address the notion of quality the State rushed to its favourite cure-all: reservation. Hence 25% of seats in all private schools would be reserved for ‘poor’ children. All private schools means school as diverse as a local school and the uber rich school. The State simply abdicated its constitutional obligation towards providing education. And of course there is more: the right to education covers children from age 6 to 14. Ha Ha! What happens after that is any body’s guess. And not to forget that the pass percentage remains a paltry 33% when colleges require 90%+ for securing admission. So if the child had no dropped out along the way, his chances at gaining higher education at a reasonable rate is limited to open universities, even colleges or correspondence courses.

Back to the speech. The candidate stated that a farmer’s son could dream big and become a pilot and that his Government would ensure this. My humble question is that to become anything  s/he needs basic education and you have not been able to provide that even with ceases and more ceases. So how does he become a pilot. Stop bartering false dreams. Clean up your act first!

And talking of deja vu it has been more than a decade that we have been cleaning your act, albeit with a handful of kids, and though we still do not have a pilot, we have amongst our alumni an international ramp model who was born on a roadside! Talk of dreams. Not to forget the now thousands of kids who have completed their studies honourably and hold good jobs and have broken the cycle of poverty and acceded to the middle class. This was also what was promised to millions in the speech.

The said speech was 60 years too late and so were your promises. The only I got out of it was that I was on the right path. I just hope that I can continue to do so. There are too many dreams to be salvaged and fulfilled.

RG and my team

An article in a leading weekly bought back memories long forgotten and if that was not enough to jog the memory hard another article did the needful: making me decide to share one part if my life I had chosen to keep to myself for my own reasons. But it seems to be open season as books are being published with gay abandon about the very years of India’s history that I am about to write about. Some of you may know about what I could call my brush with the political world. Being an interpreter and conference administrator I was called to service conferences of all kind and thus came into contact with the establishment and for personalities. This is not meant to be my life story but let me simply say that a series of occurrences led me to via many conferences and even the Asian Games to be called upon one evening after the Congress had lost the 1989 elections by Rajiv Gandhi who requested I come to see him at Race Course Road asap. I think I was with him in less than an hour that included a drive from South Delhi and the lengthy security procedure. I had only met him briefly after the elections results and did not quite know what to say but he put me at ease, and with his charming smile told me he needed my help. I need to tell you that prior to this day, I had been engaged in making a data base of Congress workers with my team and hence I guess my administrative capabilities were known to him. Anyway he asked me to follow him and took me to a huge room that was filled from floor to veiling with unopened letters. The simply asked me if I would handle this. It was a challenge I could not refuse. The pile contained letters form Heads of State as well as from humble workers, Xmas and New year greetings as we were in December and much more.

I told him I would get back to him with a plan. Though I knew I would give my time pro bono, I also realised that I would need a team, computers and much more and thus would have to come up with a monthly budget. The next day I had some clear ideas and was all set to share them with RG, but was surprised to find a posse of politicians, some who today are big shots, waiting for me. They said they would be giving me instructions about how to manage the Congress President’s (CP as everyone seem to love acronyms) correspondence. A red light started flashing in my mind. This is was bad news but anyway I would give them a patient hearing. It took me a minute to know that I would not do what they wanted as the first sentence they came up with was: you have to answer all letters written by senior Congressmen and then the coup de grace you will only answer letters written on good quality paper and never to answer nasty letters. I nodded as expected and was just waiting for a chance to leave these men and their ideas and storm into the CP’s office and lay some ground rules.

RG must have known that there was something wrong as I entered his room. Being who I am I told him to find someone else for the task as the conditions his people had set were not acceptable. He asked me to calm down and tell him what happened. I explained that for me his correspondence was a unique occasion to build a PR exercise that would help him regain the trust of many and hence letters by Congressmen on beautiful paper was the lowest priority while the nasty letters were top priority! He smiled and said he agreed 100% and that it would be my way. I felt smug but also knew I had made a whole set of new enemies! I also knew that every letter would be answered no matter what.

We worked out a great system  were not only did we answer all letters but also initiated our own on festivals, birthdays etc. So imagine my surprise when I read an article entitled pre-paid connection that begins with these words: Namaskar! This is your MP speaking. I wish you a very happy birthday and apologise for not being able to attend your celebrations. But I will try to meet you the next time I visit the locality,” says a voice message by Election Awaaz, a Gurgaon-based political consultancy firm… “If you are the voter who gets a personalised call like this, how would you feel? Wouldn’t you vote for the MP?” asks J.P. Singh, founder of Election Awaaz. 

I guess this is how the hundreds of thousands of people from across the land felt when they got an unexpected letter from RG, more so those who had sent vitriolic letters and probably never expected then to be answered. I remember one person who wrote back saying something like: I still do not agree with your views but was consider you a true gentleman!

I guess my team and I were an avant garde political consultancy firm. Makes one feel quite good. Our task was herculean as we had to open thousands of letters each day, categorise them, read them and answer them. Our rudimentary computer and its floppy disk was a help but nothing compared to the software one has today. And then the letters had to be folded, put in an envelope, the envelope glued and then stamped and posted. No SEND button! It was a great learning experience particularly as one understood how political parties worked and how it was not for the likes of me.

In 1991 elections were called and I suggested that we write a nice and positive letter to everyone on our data base. I made a draft and submitted it for approval. Imagine my horror when my letter was rejected and a new draft sent to me which was arrogant and supercilious, the exact opposite of the image we had built over the months. I was up in arms again and sent a rather hard note to CP telling me that I would not be party to the draft he had sent and would resign if forced to do so as I could not do anything that I know would harm him. He sent me a short note stating: your draft OK! Sadly things did not turn out as we would have hoped.

So imagine my surprise again when I read these words in the article mentioned at the beginning of this post: In a new book out this week, My Years with Rajiv and Sonia, Rajiv Gandhi’s aide, former Union home secretary R.D. Pradhan, quotes the late prime minister saying in 1991 that he did not want a negative campaign. His advisers Rajiv Desai, Sam Pitroda, Suman Dubey and Prannoy Roy wanted Rajiv Gandhi to be confrontational. Roy, writes Pradhan, wanted a campaign that would “shock and wake up” voters. Rajiv was adamant, and said no.

Hey that is my story! And I still stand by it.

Seeing what goes in the name of electioneering today makes me gag and run a mile. Where have all the gentlemen gone!

Amidst all the inane news about election 2014 that has turned out to be a circus of the absurd with Chandni is 3, weighs 3.7 kilos. This tiny soul lives in our capital city, a city where famous for its gargantuan parties and its brazen and unabashed habit of throwing food be it at wedding parties or what I call religious feeding frenzies. Just a stone throw away from such wasteful nosh-ups, lives a little girl who his 3 year old and has the weight of a new born. She should have weighed at least 10 kilos. The article quotes the finding of an NGO who ‘mapped’ the children of a single block of a slum resettlement colony and found that one in every five kids who had their heights and weights measured was malnourished and one in nine had “severe acute malnourishment.” Of these, six children were in such a condition that NGO workers took them to a hospital. Chandni is one of them. Does this gives you goose bumps or it is just a news item that you will simply forget once you have closed the newspaper and finished your cup of tea. Such news gives me sleepless nights and finds me seething in anger at our politicians and administrators who fill their pockets with impunity and alacrity. Such news makes me mad at the likes of me who are not even willing to share a coin to help such children. I say this with confidence and full responsibility as I have knocked at so many doors and had them slammed at my face. But no matter what, I will continue writing about it as this is my brand of activism that costs nothing but a few extra grey hairs and lines on my face.
senseless debates on pointless topics like toffees and semantics, today’s newspaper brings us a news item that should make us hand our heads in shame. The article is entitled:

I have quoted these statistics ad nauseum but here they are again in caps this time: IN INDIA FIVE THOUSAND (5000) CHILDREN UNDER SIX DIE EVERYDAY OF MALNUTRITION, THAT IS 1.82 MILLION A YEAR, 208 AN HOUR, 3.4 EVERY MINUTE.

Does this still live you cold.

Here is more. Malnutrition under the age of 5 has severe and life long consequences, should you be lucky enough not to be part of the 5000/day! Here is what Wikepedia says: Malnutrition increases the risk of infection and infectious disease, and moderate malnutrition weakens every part of the immune system. For example, it is a major risk factor in the onset of active tuberculosis. Protein and energy malnutrition and deficiencies of specific micronutrients (including iron, zinc, and vitamins) increase susceptibility to infection. In communities or areas that lack access to safe drinking water, these additional health risks present a critical problem. Lower energy and impaired function of the brain also represent the downward spiral of malnutrition as victims are less able to perform the tasks they need to in order to acquire food, earn an income, or gain an education. Need I say more? By the way do you know what Marasmus and Kwashiorkor mean? They are form of malnutrition.

The bottom line is that you cannot make up for the lost years. Were you to take over a severely malnourished child aged 5 and give him the best nutrition possible, the harm would be done. The very fair and almost blond kids and protruding bellies that beg at traffic lights suffer from Kwashiorkor! It may already be too late for them.

But let us get back to Chandni and her story. Had things run in our country, things like the ICDS (Integrated Child Development Scheme ), remember, the programme that was set up in 1985 and meant to monitor all the children of India through Aganwadis (creches), then Chandni would not have been malnourished. But as is said in the article “Many of the children found to be malnourished are enrolled with aanganwadis,” says Pardarshita co-founder Rajiv Kumar, “Their growth should have been monitored and they should have got some nutrition from there.” Aanganwadis are responsible for the delivery of the Integrated Child Development Scheme (ICDS)-the only one reaching out to children under six years of age. Chandni’s father, Pramod, a security guard, says none of his five children have ever been weighed at the aanganwadi they go to and they “sometimes get some khichdi.” Get the picture again. You may ask why these aganwadis do not work?

I guess you know the answer. The money is largely siphoned off and a semblance of creche set up. The caretaker is often the local politicos nominee, the room is a dark dank hole with nothing to attack a kid, a broken weighing machine lies in a corner gathering dust, a vague meal is given sporadically.

Little Chandni cannot sit up. She has 4 other siblings and her father a rickshaw puller cannot sit with her in hospital while she is cared for. Her mother needs to look after her other kids, some who attend school. It is heart wrenching to see that in spite of the terrible conditions they live in, they know that education spells hope! Shame on us and on our rulers!

Chandni’s father wants a disability certificate for her, but d**** everyone, Chandni is not disabled and should not have been in this condition if things worked in this country of ours.

Imagine how many Chandnis there are in our city.

ICDS alone cannot help but at least can raise the red flag in time. To combat malnutrition you need clean drinking water, clem surroundings, sanitation and adequate nutrition. Chandni’s father earns 6000 rupees. 2000 rupees go in rent. How can you live in 1000 rupees a week!

To end this post let me draw your attention to another news item in the same paper. Our incumbent PM will not have to pay for water or electricity when he moves too his new house after elections.

This is India!

Today I would like to give you a glimpse of how the other half lives! The images of the over the top house I visited a few days back compelled me to browse the bazillion photographs taken over the last 14 years. They all are from across the divide. What I was looking for was snapshots of homes as well as slums themselves to give you an idea of what goes on behind our iron curtain and to show you how people beat all odds and don’t just survive, but live with dignity and courage.

The question I often asked myself is whether the right to shelter, that is not enshrined in our Constitution is an act of omission, or whether those who framed this perfect peace of legislature believed that it was implicit in the other rights like equality or simply the right to LIFE! The supreme court has debated the question ad infinitum and though it has ruled in favour of a right to housing in some cases, it has failed in others. It is a fact that millions of people are still living in sub-human conditions on pavements, in squatter settlements, bastis, jhuggies or unauthorised slums and are under constant threat of being evicted or even smoked out as happened recently in Delhi. 700 homes were gutted and the question that arises now is the one about ownership of the land on which these homes were erected. It seems far more complex than one could imagine and a true political and administrative nexus at play. The story goes something like this: the camp had 1200 tenements that were ‘owned’ by slumlords and ‘rented’ out with rents ranging from 1500 to 2500 rupees per month. The land it seems ‘belongs’ to the DDA (Delhi Development Authority) as confirmed by an NGO activist.

Today the slum dwellers have decided to take things in their own hands. They want to build their own homes. One of them gives the real picture of their predicament: The thekedars gave us nothing. They became so greedy that the area where four jhuggis stood some years back now holds at least six. There were no toilets either. We had realized that the land does not belong to them but this fire has given us the chance to set things straight. After realizing what we are up to, the thekedars have been threatening us with rape and murder. We have complained to the police. One wishes then success but even if you are an optimist one wonders how they will beat the system.

Talking of system, there is another story in the same paper that illustrates spot on how politicians deal with such situations and how empty their electoral promises are. Good to know in the election times. The article is entitled Slum families wait for flats. In 2009 slum dwellers of Bhawar Singh Camp were present at the inauguration of a redevelopment scheme for them with the promise of  a flat with two rooms, a kitchen, a washroom and access to elevator. It is one of the PPP (private public partnership) whereby a certain amount of the land was to be for homes for the poor and the rest could be exploited by the developer. A brochure was distributed and I guess a plaque put up. Lakhs were spent on the inauguration party.

2014 and nothing has happened. An RTI filed by another activist revealed that no building can ever come up on this land as it is part of the Ridge and Reserve forest area. Voila! Nonetheless the same Minister who inaugurated the foundation ceremony was back asking for votes. When quizzed on the subject you can guess what his answer was that it will be his first priority as soon as he is back in power! I have watched this cat and mouse game in every election – municipal, assembly and parliamentary – over 3 decades now. The promise is always the same and it is also never fulfilled. The people wait just like Becket’s protagonists in Waiting for Godot.

Some years back I had met an activist who is also an urban planner. She is the author of a fascinating book entitled Slumming India. In her opinion the root cause of urban slumming lies not in urban poverty but in urban greed. Her views may be radical but are nevertheless true and I urge you to read this interview of hers. I will just reproduce part of her answer to the question why is India becoming one huge slum: This is happening because of the moral bankruptcy facing our intellectuals, activists and celebrities. They are allowing our cities to die rather than taking steps to the contrary. To cite a few examples, if sprawling farmhouses for a handful are allowed to occupy prime space, then the poor will be forced to huddle in huts, as there is just so much urban land to go around. If fancy malls, used by a few, are allowed to occupy a lot of space, then shops catering to the needs of the majority will come up on the roadside. If only a few industrial houses are given prime sites, then smaller factories needing propinquity to ancillary establishments will come up in residential areas. Get the picture.

Before I continue, I would like to share a few pictures of the slums where we work and our children stay. The conditions are abysmal and shameful. But as I said people live with all the dignity they can muster.

The street where Babli lives

You cook outside

Home is where mom’s feed their kids with love

Imagine if there was a fire

She goes to school and does her homework in one of these shanties

Proud of my home and my TV

Slums are tucked away in any space available

You can barely stand in this one

A nostalgic picture of the Lohar Camp now destroyed.

You will not believe it but residents of all the homes in the pictures above have voter’s ID Card, Adhaar Cards, Ration Cards and all other identifications that make them a citizen of the city. Yet they continue to live in abysmal conditions. Sadly, they are not ready to see the way as they are prisoners of a feudal mindset that makes them believe blindly in the promises of wily and greedy politicians.

After meeting Ms Verma and getting convinced by her views, I requested her to come and talk to the residents of the slums we worked in. We had a workshop but what Ms Verma wanted them to do was a far cry from what they have been doing for ever. She wanted them to take on the next politician who came to their door soliciting votes and claimed s/he would ‘regularise’ the slum in question. She also wanted them to tell her/him that they knew their tenement was illegal but also knew that there was land earmarked for them etc. You get the picture. It all ended there and they still wait for Godot. How could they give up their feudal past.

So now the moot question is whether right to housing is a fundamental right. As it was not stated clearly in the list of fundamental rights by those who framed our Constitution, it was left to the State and the Courts to decide on a case per case issue. And this has been going on forever. In the article I mentioned earlier it seems that there are sufficient loopholes in the law that despite the existence of such rights, the state can still get away with not providing its citizens their fundamental human rights.   Whereas in some cases the Courts decide in favour of the citizen and in the 1990s the Supreme Court reiterated the right to adequate housing as a distinct constitutional obligation of the state, both under the right to life and under Article 19(1)(e), which guarantees the right of every citizen to reside and settle in any part of the country. But in 2000 the same court rules that ‘…displacement of the tribals and other persons would not per se result in the violation of their fundamental or other rights…’ Confusing to say the least.

Today the Supreme Court has pronounced 2 judgements in matters related to housing. In the first case that relates to what is known as the Campa Cola housing Society case, it dismissed the appeal of the residents and have directed them to vacate the premisses by May 31st. Residents were duped by builders who built more flats than sanctioned. In 2002 these extra flats, numbering 100, were declared illegal and the residents were served demolition notice. They knocked at every door possible but to no avail. They have lost their homes for no fault of theirs.

The second judgement concerns a High Courtorder directing demolition of two 40-floor towers in Noida. The Supreme Court has agreed to examine agreed to examine real estate major Supertech Ltd’s plea against the Allahabad high court’s order directing demolition of two 40-floor towers in Noida and ordered the company not to sell or transfer flats in the buildings. One wonders what the final verdict will be.

Housing is the perfect playing ground for politicians and business men. In the bargain the poor suffer as there is no safety net for them and no one wants to give up  land which is the proverbial hen that lays golden eggs.

The question we need to ask is whether shelter is a fundamental right. It is a right that has been recognised internationally. It is time we did so for the sake of our pavement dwellers, tribals, slum dwellers etc as they cannot depend on interpretations of a law that has too many loopholes. As is highlighted in the article quoted above the right to adequate housing an important component of the right to live with dignity, but also therefore an obvious component of the right to equality.

Till housing is not recognised as a fundamental right, how can any social or economical rights be fulfilled. I hope our new Government looks at this crucial issue.

Yesterday I went to a party, yes me the recluse put on her best clothes and best face and accompanied the husband to the engagement party of a golfing buddy of his, the same person whose house I visited a while back and  wished I had sunglasses on to protect me from the glare of the artefacts on display. It was the most over the top house I had ever seen. Yesterday was the daughter’s engagement and one pair of sun glasses would not have been enough. I also discovered that there was a fountain modelled on the Trevi one in Rome spurting precious water at the entrance of the house. I guess I missed it the last time as it was not on. Anyway, everything is Italian in this house. It was, by Delhi standards a small party but everything on offer was uber special. My best clothes paled in front of the glitter and dazzle of the ladies, but somehow it made me stand out. I have always liked that! The guest list was a mix of people who as usual did not know each other and I sat myself on an expensive sofa, hoping the colour of my outfit would not run on the pristine white and gold of the priceless seat. Music was playing through a piped system and there were flowers everywhere. There was an abundance of drinks, soft and hard,  but I settled with my all time favourite H2O. As the husband and I had eaten our vegan food before, we did not eat, but I feasted my eyes on the abundant vegetarian fare on offer with name cards stating what the dish was. I did a double take when I read: Yakitori in a martini glass! It was actually a vegetarian skewer sitting in an empty martini glass! Do a few pieces of vegetables on a skewer become a starred dish if placed in a swanky glass. Maybe they do.

We did not stay long as we were not planning to dine. On the way back, it took some time to get back to reality. After some silent moments, the husband and I shared thoughts about the evening and both of us wondered at the many ways the rich spend their money. If I had surplus money and no project why, I really wonder how I would spent it. I have been blessed from the time I was born to a surfeit of everything and am more than satiated. True there have been times, like now perhaps, where a few extra pennies would be welcome to patch up some cracks in the wall, but what the hell, the cracks have their own story to tell and life is good with them, but I really do not know what I would do were I to win a lottery and not be allowed to use it on project why.

As we reached the traffic light close to home, it turned red and within no time a young girl maybe 7 or so with a baby at her hip knocked at the car window. It must have been well past 9pm. The work day had not ended for these two children of India. That knock was felt deep in the gut by both of us as the husband worded what we both felt: why does this not outrage us?

I ask you that question again: why do we not get outraged when we see children begging! The we here is a collective one. It is me, you and above all the people who are supposed to make and implement decisions, programmes and even Constitutional Rights. Remember the Constitution that everyone quotes and which has a Preamble where WE, the People of India resolve to give all its citizens social, economic and political justice and equality of status and opportunity! Does the child that begs at the red light have equality of status and social justice. And by the way that child also has a right to free and equitable education! Let us forget for a moment about all the other goodies that are sought in her/his name and that we diligently pay for in the form of taxes and ceases. Let me remind you that Delhi has a 2% cess on Primary Education that you pay each time your kid has a hamburger at Mc Donald’s. Where does this money go? And how come the kid that begs at the red light not go to an anganwadi as stipulated by the ICDS that has been in force circa 1975 and according to which every child born in this country has a right to nutrition, immunisation and even  proper psychological, physical and social development! And the programme is still very much on the anvil as recruitments for the said programme are on going. So how come these kids are not part of this programme.

I refuse to believe that politicians, government officials and supposedly responsible citizens do not travel along the roads of the capital and do not encounter such children. How come no one sees them and wonders why they have fallen off the safety net we all pay for. Why does this not outrage everyone and compels us to do something. True they are not our kids and not vote banks so why care.

Not one of the candidates in on going elections speaks about beggar children, malnutrition deaths @ 5000 a day or hunger and yet they exist. No one talks about the abysmal condition of habitat for the poor even in the wake of a recent fire that engulfed 700 homes last week in the country’s capital. Millions continue to live in squalor quietly servicing the rich who enjoy their yakitoris in martini glasses.

The two Indias are not divided but live side by side. The problem is that one of the sides has blinkers on their eyes and refuses to acknowledge the existence of the other.

M died yesterday. Another victim of the dreaded crab. Another unsuspecting victim of the medical system that feeds on the patient’s trust and panders false hope. M was not even forty, a mother of 4 children the youngest being just 2. I have known M for almost a decade. A feisty woman with a quick temper that could flare at any moment, M was a survivor, a survivor at any cost. When pwhy was just in its infancy and I still naive, she came to me asking for a job. Upon hearing that she had finished school, I suggested she join the team as a primary teacher.

Two years ago, when she was at the end of her fourth pregnancy – in her case she had 3 sons and wanted a girl – she told me about a suspicious lump in her breast. At that time I was not as knowledgeable as I am now, but still I gave her some advise on nutrition and also asked her to meet my Tibetan doctor which she did. But how can a stem of innocuous pills given after a mere checking of the pulse compete with scanners and toxic potions administered in nuclear war like environment. And though I had entreated her to continue taking her pills even if she opted for conventional therapies, I guess the pills must be still lying in the corner of her home.

I know that M and her husband must have been every angry with my adverse reactions to conventional medicine and my pleas to stop eating meat – M belongs to a community where pork is a must – and eat seasonal vegetables and fruit. Meat in their community is a sign of abundance and wealth, and her I was asking them to take it off their table. I know they never did.

A few days after our ‘chat’, M informed me that they had found a cancer hospital – private of course – that was offering a 100 000 package deal that she was convinced would cure her. I tried again to tell about the way cancer operates and that cure in conventional terms is just five years + one day, but the look on her face made me stop my spiel. She had been seduced and fallen hook, line and sinker for the treatment on offer. She was operated upon and given radio and chemo therapy and suffered all the terrible side effects it entailed, but also lymphedema of one arm which resulted in one of her arms being swollen and practically non functional.

I presume that hospitals do not counsel patients sufficiently and in spite of her swollen arm M though she was cured. I guess the follow up protocol was not followed and the cancer spread rapidly and by the time they realised that she was ill again it was too late.

I felt so sad and helpless and angry when I heard about her death. With the knowledge I have today, I feel confident that had she listened to me, she would have not relapsed so early, but then a person who tells you to eat certain things and give up others becomes non-grata forever.

In the case of people like M, who have no medical insurance and little money, alternative therapies should be an option. Yet they are not. Often such persons feel that we are denying them something we have benefitted from for ages and that they have toiled for and just accessed. Though it makes me sad, I can well understand where they come from. Imagine being told by one form the other side of the divide that you should not opt for swanky machines and expensive drugs but become vegan, chew some cannabis seeds or eat a few apricot seeds. It is humiliating and infuriating I agree. So you watch someone you know die because you could not beat the system whilst retaining the dignity of the other.

This is the power of modern medicine, the stranglehold of the big pharma companies, the result of the millions in marketing a treatment that does not always work, or certainly does not work on its own. I truly wish NGOs dealing with cancer would also propagate the truth about alternative options to the weaker communities. It would make all the difference between life and death.

Cancer is a word, not a sentence!

May M rest in peace and may her children be safe.

I am quite baffled by these elections as I do not think most of us know what we truly want. Early this year the capital of our country took a bold step and decided to vote for a new political party in spite of its being in its infancy. What was remarkable is that the support cut across caste, religion and social strata. I guess the reason was that they positioned themselves as a part that would fight corruption at all levels. Hence the overwhelming support they got form the poorer sections of society was understandable. But I was surprised at the kind of people who told we they were voting AAP: the  owner of a upmarket store, my doctor, my old friend known to be a long time supporter of a political party and so on. It seemed that everyone was fed up with the existing political system and wanted change. People believed in them and gave them their trust. The mood was euphoric. Everyone truly felt that the humble broom would transform into a magic wand at the stroke of midnight and solve all problems. One can understand the elation of the poor who saw dreamt of free water and cheap electricity and the hope of the perennially extended hand of the policemen vanish, but what about us who voted with alacrity, did we stop to ponder before believing?

What happened next is for all to see. Sleeping with the enemy to acquire power. Was it hubris or falling into a well honed trap? Perhaps a bit of both as power is the most potent drug on earth and when it comes so close, few if any can resist it and though they did not expect it, how could they resist. I guess we who casted our vote in favour of this new party, never felt they would come to power. It was a surprise for all. The wise thing would have been to desist from power and have another election that would have given a more definitive result.

The 49 days saw change that unfortunately was forgotten when the party demitted office. Few remember the audit of state run schools and hospitals of the simple fact that corruption at the lower end was contained. But we cannot cry over spilled milk. The reality is that an error of judgement at that time had brought a loss of faith in this party.

What we all forget is that this was a young party pitched against well oiled machines. We also forget that it was a movement that became a political party by force majeure and was perhaps not ready. An excellent article analyses the future of AAP and is worth reading. The author asks: The most important question facing the party is an existential one. It must define again, for its own self as to what role it seeks for itself in politics. Is it a third force challenging the Congress and the BJP or is it the second front challenging all politics? Does it seek power as an instrument of change or does it act as a political conscience keeper for the system as a whole? I believe most of us wanted it to be a political conscience keeper for the system in the first place. Once it had the structure, cadre and experience, then it could have pitched for power. Today it is at the verge of self destruction. The author feels it is important that the AAP experiment continue for it injects a vital element that has been missing in Indian politics. The AAP is attempting to redefine the very idea of democracy by making it a more participative practice. And just for that we must not write it off as such opportunities come once in a lifetime. One should not let it die.

The results are a mere two weeks or so away. Once the campaigning frenzy has died and the numbers are out, the party must do a sincere and honest evaluation of its journey and reinvent itself. Should they fail to do so, then they might just become a line in future history books.

The din of the elections is getting unbearable! More so because every day we are assaulted with speeches that sound more life a verbal warfare between individuals that often reach levels that are unacceptable. One would have hoped to hear about visions and plans for the future; about education and health as these are the foundations of any society; about employment and price rise; in a sod about how would things be better for us were to vote for one or the other candidate on the list. But what we are coerced into hearing/reading is personal and below the belt jibes about individuals or abhorrent remarks about communities. I do not care whether a man is married or not. That is his personal life and should remain so. You may remember that the world came to know about the existence of the love child of a President at his funeral and no one cared. Quite the opposite people were touched that all his loved ones were there.

Elections should be about what matters. It should not turn into a free for all where decency and basic courtesy are cast to the wind. I wonder if people really believe that these kind of shenanigans cut ice with anyone. Washing dirty laundry in public, slandering one another, bringing in family and personal relationships is in poor taste.

I am a little concerned about the hubris that seems to have permeated one and all. The nomination filing roadshow of one of then star candidates was quite something. It seemed worthy of Bollywood with a heart wrenching script, pomp and colour, and all the needed props. There was a dangerous frenzy in the whole show that reminded me of some of the worst event of past history where individuals were glorified and deified. It seems that one man has the magic wand that will solve all problems. This is what many think and to me this may just be this person Achille’s heel. If he wins, imagine the victory parade!

What is done is done and cannot be undone. We want to know about the future. How will each one address the matters that concern us as individuals and as a country. How long will we have to hang our heads in shame when we hear about children dying by the minute, rapes occurring each day or when we are asked the question is India safe!

I am also sick and tired hearing about models: the Gujarat model, the toffee model, the son-in-law model and God know what else may still come our way. Some want us to believe that Gujarat is a Shangri La within India and were its model to be projected on the whole country all our problems will vanish. Others want us to believe that this is not the case at all and the reality is quite the opposite and has the worst social indices. I as a normal being am uncomfortable with both views.

I was comforted when I read an article entitled Gujarat- Its Smelly, Its Dusty , Its Poor. Its India. It is worth a read. It shows you that  if  you keep your eyes, ears (and nose) open, Gujarat is just another   smelly, congested, dusty, inept  Indian state stuck firmly to India’s side to its West.

What we need is a model for India. Wonder who will give us that.

Sometimes all it takes to put a big smile on my face is browsing through my almost ten thousands pictures of project why spanning the fourteen past years of my life and finding the one that will lift the cloud of the moment. It can just be a happy face, a tender memory, a funny incident or simply be reason enough for a good pat on my back!

These pictures were taken by a young photographer who posted them on FB – God bless FB – and were snapshots I have never seen. I just could not help smiling and grinning like the proverbial Cheshire cat. It is true that I see these kids, but not as often as I would like in recent times, put I always prompt a hurried and harried: say good morning to Ma’am by the teachers and dutifully the children rise and chorus a rehearsed and droning Good Morning Maaaa’m. Some smiles, but their smiles seem contrived, others – the new ones- look frankly scared. As I am always short of time I beat a hasty retreat.

I sometimes wish I could be a fly on the wall to share real moments with my 1000 kids. As things stand today this seems a pipe dream. But maybe, if I can conjure the miracle of ensuring sufficient funds for pwhy and am still not too old and creaky, I will spend my last days on earth with these kids.

When I ask my staff to get photographs because I need them, they dutifully do so. But not being professionals, again the pictures seem stage managed.

So it is pure delight when a kind photographers offers to offer his/her time and gifts me these precious snapshots and the smiles that go with them.

Thank you Aditya.

Respected Prime Minister,

I chose to write to you today as we still do not know who you will be, though the guesses are few, but somehow writing to a yet anonymous person is easier for me. Let me too remain anonymous though I can tell you that I am a child, who remain anonymous and voiceless. I was born in this city and live in a small shanty house with my family of 6. Our room is so tiny that after fitting one bed there is no place to move but my mother does everything to make it feel like home. Like many others from our village, my parents came to the big city to look for a better life, if not for themselves, at least for their children. They thought that in the big city their children could be educated and have a better chance in life. My parents are illiterate. My father is a daily wager and my mother looks after me and my siblings. 

My home has a tin roof and one small fan but at night we barely fight in it. There are mosquitoes as our slum is tucked away in between factories and a dirty drain goes by it, and we spent many sleepless nights. Last year my brother got malaria and as there is only one quack in our area, he did not treat him right and by the time we rushed to the hospital which is faraway, it was too late for him.
The house is lower than the road so when it rains the room gets flooded. My mother had to fight every day to get enough water and we have to go to the toilet in the open. But at least I can walk and run not like my friend Radha who has a bone disease and walks on her hand. Her house too is very small and when her little brother walks over her, he limbs get broken. In the 12 years of her life she has had more than 50 fractures. Were her house big, this would not have happened. So I guess I am lucky. On my way to school, I see little children begging and looking at them, I feel I should stop complaining. But Sir, do you see them too, and if you do, why don’y you do anything for them?

I do go to school but Sir, how can you study in a class of 80 children and learn anything. My parents cannot afford private tuition and the teachers do not teach us anything. I am lucky because I go to a project before school and they teach me, but my friends move from class to class without learning. I know a boy who is in class VII and cannot even read. I am told that every child has a right to free and quality education so Sir how come I do not get my right. But then at least I go to school. What about the child that begs at the street light. Do you ever look at her when you stop at a light but I forgot big people like you do not stop at lights, you just whizz through. Maybe you should stop at lights and see these children.

I know there have been many schemes to help the poor as we are called, though I do not consider myself as poor as I am better than the beggar child, but they do not reach us. We do not have the papers needed and my parents do not know how to get all that is required to get some cheaper food. You see you need to know people or pay money and we have neither. There are days when my father does not get work and we go to sleep hungry. My mother makes us drink some chilli water and then we have to drink more water and somehow our stomach gets filled. And this goes for every programme that is made for the ‘poor’. The ones who really deserve it remain invisible and anonymous. The reservation you made in good schools for 25% of ‘poor’ children will never reach us.  Wily people become ‘poor’ as they know how to get papers and their children study in these good schools. I see all the nice buses that pass by as I walk to my school which is very far from my slum.

When we sing patriotic songs at school and salute the flag, I do feel proud of being Indian even though my life looks miserable. But what if I told you that my mother always smiles and tells us that there will be better times and I Sir, am determined to beat the odds whatever they may be. I will make my dreams come true.

But Sir, when you come to power, will you give a thought to us invisible people who are part of this society and give it our best, even if we remain unseen. 

I hope you do. Maybe you could just start by stopping at a red light and looking deep into the eyes of the little girl who will knock at your window. And if you, open the eyes of your heart.

A child of India

These elections have been a reality show in the true sense of the word, unscripted and immensely entertaining. One of the surprises it sprung was the toffee model, where one of the contestant alluded to his opponent having sold land for one rupee, the price of a toffee. All this is jest and bantering but I  would like to share a real fact which would make anyone cry ion despair.

I have recently written about the sports programme the husband would like to initiate for the 2500 children of the nearby Government school. I do not know if he will succeed or not this is one mean obstacle race that may even need at the doors of Justice! I just hope it works

I simply want to share a thought that come to my mind this morning. The school has an annual sports budget of eight thousand rupees for 2500 kids: that is 3.20 rupees per kid per year or 0.26 rupee or 26 paise per child per month. Not even the price of a toffee. Wonder who makes these absurd budgets.

I have recently sent a link to a series of incredible pictures about incredible India! I posted them on my Facebook page, but if you have not seen them please do take a few minutes and treat yourself to something unique. These pictures exemplify all that is great about our wonderful country: its ability to beat all odds, no matter how challenging they may be. Who would have ever thought of perching an iron on two books and boiling your milk. This happens only in India. You may smirk or snigger and say that it was all done for the camera. Maybe so. But I would like to differ as I have been privy over the past 14 years of how the other India, the one forgotten by politicians and crony capitalists, the one mentioned in speeches and made promises to, promises that are never kept but that make good fodder for lining pockets, the one that has learnt to survive in spite of everything and survive with a smile. That is the real India shining, the one that we have all conveniently forgotten.

I am no economist, politician, administrator, decision maker and anything of this kind. I marvel at having been able to create and sustain project why in spite of my total lack of skills. Come on I cannot even manage my house budget. I guess in the case of pwhy someone up there holds the strings and makes me move in the right direction. But even I can see that all the empty speeches and models that one has been/is hearing will never solve all the problems of India.

Over the years I have despaired at the slow death of all the street vendors and hawkers. Once upon a time their cries were part of your day-to-day life. You did not have to step out of your home to mend a shoe, get your silver chain repaired, give your clothes for ironing, buy your bread and eggs, your vegetables and fruits and so on not to forget ice creams, chaat, and more. And then slowly they became rarer, their cries slowly disappearing just like the call of the birds. The rich suddenly decided that letting all these hawkers in their colonies posed a ‘danger’ to their safety. And gates were erected, and certain hawkers given access while others were rejected. Don’t ask me why. I have no answer. I thought we lived in a free country where every citizen could roam wherever he wished. I watch with sadness and anger the rising of swanky gated communities where even lifts are segregated. I wonder which lift a maid takes when she is with the child she cares for. I guess the one for the haves! I must stop as all this makes me mad.

We all know that one of the big problem the country is facing is undoubtedly that of employment. And in my humble opinion unless small enterprises is not given its rightful place, we will never be able to solve the employment issue of over a billion people. I wonder what our young Prime Ministerial aspirant means when he states over and over again: The poor need a launch pad to progress. A poor man cannot eat roads and We want more people involved in the process of nation-building.

One agrees in principle but then a few kilos of grain doled out or a few days a work under some maladministered schemes are not the answer. On the other hand new industries, new malls, big retail outlets etc will only give jobs to those with the right skills. Remember how irritated we get when we have a poor girl or boy answering our call to some call centre or the other and not understanding our English. Next time be a little indulgent. But even with these new promised avenues, there will be still millions who will fall between the cracks: the ones who are not educated, who are to old, who do not have the skills required. But what they have is priceless: a will to survive, sound common sense and an ability to create employment for themselves. No I am not joking. I have seen these kind of people day in and day out and have marvelled at their ingenuity. They are spot on and respond to the market forces far better than you and I, without the need of market studies and the likes of them. I will give you a few examples: when a recruitment examination is on you will have one or two bright larks spreading a sheet outside the venue and selling guide books! If the number of people from a particular community or region settle in sufficient numbers in a place you have people who set up road eateries catering to their local preferences and when their festivals come you have hawkers selling all that is needed. That is what I call enterprise!

But these entrepreneurs are hounded by the police and the administration and have to pay hefty bribes  simply to earn their living. I do not know what I would do were my road side tailor – the successor of the erstwhile veranda tailors of our grandmothers – or my ironing lady who has been ironing our clothes since before I got married and whose hair has greys along with mine, removed. I would feel orphaned!

Everyone wants to empower people but they want to do it their way. Please do build your roads and industries but leave space for people to find their solutions and facilitate these enterprises by giving them space and recognition. They create jobs and care for their families. This is true empowerment and true inventiveness.

In my previous post, I had written about the state of sports in the Government school next to our home and the quasi impossibility of doing ‘anything’ to make things better because of the absurd red tape that exists in our country. In short should you want to improve things and offer free help you will be shown the door and even run the risk of getting sued for trespass!

The state of the school grounds is abysmal and no child can play anything without the risk of being hurt. Teams exist on paper and the authorities wait endlessly for the file too move and for the right department to be finally, if ever, chosen to do the simple task of levelling the ground.

Sports are part of the curriculum. There is a sports teacher and a weekly period assigned to the subject.

You cannot imagine in your wildest dream the annual  budget allocation for sports for 2500 children. Hold your breath! It is 8000 Rupees per year, and no I have not missed out a zero, EIGHT THOUSAND RUPEES or 132 US$ or 95 Euros! That is 3.3 rupees per year per child. Need I say more.

I would love to know what our aspiring politicians intend to do about this. Oops I forgot, children are not vote banks!

Today I write an India Story. The reason why I entitle this blog so is that this little story reflects how things work in our beloved land. In an earlier blog I had mentioned how the husband was all excited about starting a sports project in the neighbourhood and how thrilled I was at his finding a project that I truly felt/feel will give him a new lease of life. His first visit to the school went on well as I was told by him. According to him, the Principal was amenable to Ranjan’s ideas and Ranjan who is quite a greenhorn at dealing with the likes of the Principal thought all was hunky dory. Any reasonable person would feel that way. Why should anyone in their right mind refuse free help for their children. Ranjan was ready to make a state of the art facility for the 2500 kids of the school and that too for free. But darling, this is India, and things do not quite work like that. Before he ventured too far in the wrong direction, I knew I had to intervene. You see he had gone to see the Principal of the school with one of my coordinators and must have spoken in an English the poor man could barely comprehend and as things go in India, the man must have nodded along and been lost. For Ranjan it was all spot on and he was busy calling people who would help in his project.

It took me two days to convince Ranjan to make one more trip to the school, this time with me. The ploy I used was that people like the Principal needed a bit of PR or else they would think that one had forgotten them. The real reason was that I wanted to make the Principal talk and state the real picture. The man was all smiles and very welcoming and called his PT teacher to join the talk. It did not take me a minute to have them say that they could do nothing without written permission from the top, whatever the top was. This was still quite incomprehensible to Ranjan as, like any sane person, he could not accept the fact that a Principal could not allow someone to do good for his children for FREE. Ultimately we had to cross the Ts ad dot the Is. The problem was that should the Principal give his permission the powers that be would come down on him and ask him what he got out of the deal and how much money he made. This was a shock to Ranjan but as I said this is India.

The PT teacher then told us that a well wisher had tried to do the same and the then Principal had agreed but sometime later when the activities were well under way they had to be stopped and not only was the Principal called to task and transferred, a case was instituted against the poor man for trespassing on Government land!  Ranjan was shocked and I was relieved. And there is more: the school has been trying to get the grounds levelled for months now but the file is stuck somewhere as no one seems to know which agency will do that: the PWD says it is the Horticultural Department who says they only plant grass and so on and so forth. In the mean time, and this is heart wrenching and infuriating, the children cannot partake in any sorting activity though we were told the school has a cricket team, a hockey team, a kabbadi team, a football team and so on. This is what we do to our children.

Ranjan is determined to beat the system and I know is anyone can it is my man! I want him to because I know that this project will do him immense good. I just hope and pray it happens. I know how hard it is and how you have to dig your heels and not give up.

Sports is an integral part of a sound education system. We have our own India story to tell. The picture you see was taken circa 2004 when we organised our own Sports Day. As you see most of the kids do not have shoes! The ground is uneven and only determined and motivated kids would accept to run in such conditions. The ground is part of a building complex that once housed the Labour Court and then lay unused and empty. Sometimes it became a wedding venue. We even had two of our Annual Days in the hall of the building which must have been the court room. Still naive and credulous I had made a project report to transform the place into a community centre with all kind of activities sports being one of them. Of course the file is still lost in transit but what happened was something else. One fine day the place was spruced up and we were told some swanky NGO was moving in. A board was erected that stated that the NGO did everything under the sun that could get UN and other funding. For a few days it housed destitute women that were poorly treated but even that stopped and the building does again once all funds had been collected. Needless to say the NGO belonged to the progeny of a very important person. Today the building lies unused and children have nowhere to play.

These elections look more and more like the Mad hatter’s Tea Party with toffees and balloons. This is what elections have come too. Toffees and Balloons and a tea party! This is what it has come down to: slandering and more slandering. And let us not forget the sprinkling’s of ‘off with their heads’!  We are really in wonderland or rather its very antonym: dread sea! The whole show is absurd. They are now even borrowing catchy lines from popular TV ads to make their point! I wonder what we can expect next.

Though I agree with one of the star campaigners that these elections are or should be for the heart of India, my take is somewhat different.

In the past decade or so I have seen, felt, fallen in love and embraced the heart of India. The heart of India is the slum kid who smiles, the little child who begs at a red light, the millions who survive despite every politician and do so with rare dignity and courage. Th heart of India is the desperate mother who ferrets rat holes to ensure that she does not have to once again lull a her hungry child to sleep, it is the mother who sprinkles large amount of chillies on the family’s only meal to ensure that they drink so much water that next meal can be skipped. The heart of India is the young boy whose eyes glinted with joy when I told him this morning that maybe we would be starting sports activities in on the neglected grounds of his school, the heart of India lies in the vegetable vendor calls out in my street in the sweltering heat or the bone chilling cold. The heart of India lies in the millions who find ingenious ways to earn a living even if it means being hounded by cops and officials who claim their right on part of his meagre earnings. The heart of India lies in the woman who sits at her door step late in the evening waiting for her man to come back with the day’s earnings and hoping he will not stop by the watering hole; the heart of India lies in my little Radha who sleeps in a hole with her brittle bones hoping that she will survive one more day without a fracture. I could go on but I guess you get the picture.

Why should I not be enraged when one of the aspiring PM candidate whose party has been in power for the best part of Independent India, states in a speech after more than 6 decades: Our top three priorities after the elections are “free medicines and free hospitalisation by law, a roof for everyone, and pension to all senior citizens. Does it take 60+ years to realise that everyone needs a roof on their heads and access to basic health care not to forget schools. What the hell were you doing till now.

 I have being watching  a TV programme called Election Yatra, were reporters visit remote areas and interview ordinary people and politicians and ask them to share their views. Yesterday they visited Uttar Pradesh. Should you wish to watch it here is the link. I was shocked to find out about a village that in its late found wisdom has decided not to vote this time. The reason is that every aspiring candidate from any and every party promised them a road and never fulfilled their promise. They actually never came back. This time NO ONE has visited this remote and lost village. You may wonder why a simple road is so crucial. Let me enlighten you. During the rains, the mud road – if one may call it so – gets flooded and the village turns into an island. Children cannot go to school and in an emergency you cannot reach the hospital in time. Two people from the same family died last year as they could not reach help in time. So this time first ROAD then VOTE. Maybe the real meaning of democracy is finally filtering down. The village is called Nada and the district is Etawah. The story is some 8 minutes into the programme. I forgot too mention that the village has a hand water pump that never functioned.

To me it is shocking that the constituencies of the top politicians look the most neglected. One would have expected the opposite and thought they would be models of development. I am at a total loss to find out the reason for the neglect. I am talking of constituencies who have diligently voted one family back for years. I hope they too get the message this time.

The probable winning candidate for the top post of the country has till now scared me. I know the country needs a kind of a  dictator but a benign one and I am a little weary of how power may alter all good intentions. I was however comforted to hear in his latest interview that he will not be vindictive. On cleaning politics this is what he said: What is the solution? That political parties do not give tickets to such people? But frankly, such a situation is not feasible just now. I am determined that candidates, MPs from whichever party, including the BJP, against who cases are already lodged, I will request the Supreme Court to dispose of their cases within a year’s time. So that if they are guilty, they go to jail and vacate the seat for a non-criminal. Makes sense and I hope that he will stand by his words and do just that.

I would like to know though what he will do to ensure that every child has access to quality education we as a country would not have to bear the shame of watching 5000 children die everyday of malnutrition.

And hove all, what he will do for what I call the heart of India.