by Anuradha Bakshi | Mar 16, 2007 | Uncategorized
To me she will always be Sapna’s mom though her name is Bimla and she is also Monty’s mom. She came to us almost 4 years ago carrying Sapna who was 5 but could not even hold her head, let alone stand. She used to drop by sometimes dragging her feet and looking far beyond her twenty something.
Slowly her story unfolded and we were shocked to learn that a still born child has resulted in a prolapsed uterus, the reason for her awkward gait. I first wrote about he almost exactly three years ago as she lay in hospital where she had initially gone to get her uterus removed but landed up in having to get a heart valve replaced. The uterus lay forgotten.. though visible!
Today three years later she again lies in a hospital this time finally free of her agony and shame. her story could have been shared many times as so much happened in the intervening years, but somehow I felt that the moment was not the right as for her closure only came today.
Bimla is 28 though she looks 128. Married to a man that not only does not care for her but is also often jobless, she bore with the resilience of Indian women a fate no one can envy: a retarded first born that was seen as a curse, a second child that was often ill, a mother in law that despised her but on whom she was dependent, nothing looked right for this woman. More was to come as her husband was diagnosed with a congenital heart problem. So the surgery she needed was delayed as she had to replace him as a dishwasher in a small eatery…
In the meantime however Sapna started walking and saying a few words and Monty got better and became a regular at pwhy! Bimla can infuriate even the most tolerant person as she often does not react to things but simply accepts her fate; I guess it is her way of dealing with what she knows she cannot change. I guess she has perfected the art of living one day at a time, and does not or rather cannot allow herself the luxury to look at the future.
Last week she came by and a look at her swollen face and body shook us out of the torpor she had manged to instill in us: we decided to get her hysterectomy done come what may as were anything to happen to her her innocent kids lives would be shattered. Luckily Sabrina and Chris were kind enough to help us.
Needless to say that it was not easy to get her husband to come and sign the consent forms but we managed though once again no one fromm her family stayed with her, it was little Deepak’s grandmother who offered to be there, another pwhy miracle.
For us it was just the question of saving Sapna’s mom, as little Sapna is considered a burden for all and only has her mom on her side.
by Anuradha Bakshi | Mar 14, 2007 | ghaziabad girls
I have been in the begging business for seven long years.
If you look at the word ‘beg’ you find the following synonyms: panhandle, ask for money, seeking charity, seek alms.. not very gratifying and yet that is what I have been up to. I have used every trick in my book to try and persuade people to open their purse strings and reach out to help another. I presume one could pun a little and substitute pen for pan! And if you wonder why I have been in this trade at a time when my peers play cards and attend hen parties, well simply because what is thrown in my pan somehow miraculously transforms it self in incredible smiles: the smile of a child without hope, of a child who for the first time has passed an exam, the child whose heart is now fixed…
It has been a bittersweet journey as often those who could give never did and those who could not were the most generous. These years of soliciting were replete with lessons of life, some disturbing and annoying and some overwhelming and moving.
A recent post sought help for our dear ghaziabad girls. One of the most touching offers was from someone who lives thousands of miles away and whom I have never met but feel I have always known. The reason I share this story here is that her gesture epitomises the essence of what giving means. It is easy to give when you have a lot to spare or when you get tax or other benefits such as your name on page 3! But when you give most of what has come your way after hours of toiling in spite of excruciating pain, then that gift is invaluable and cannot be matched by another.
I will just her words speak for her:
Please, please send me an address, to send money towards the girls care? As mentioned, I just received notice, that I am to be paid for a logo-design I made for a male musician’s digital music business in the USA. He expects I will have this, on tomorrow or next day.. there is enough, for lee and for the girls!! I would love to help in this way, rather than send soap and things, the money could buy them there… please let me help them? Anou, I grew up in abject poverty; wearing panties with pins because they were my older sisters, handed down to me(3rd daughter).. I looked very much like those girls in the pictures… we were homeless once, and malnourished.. we were cold in winter, and lived on fresh berries, and root-vegetables in summer…. I know the pain of poverty, hunger, and the judgement on us by our community.. one does not forget their humble beginnings, so If my few dollars, will buy a box of bars of soap, or some much-needed supplies for the girls female needs.. I would be the lucky one to do this!! I’ll be waiting for an address…
What can I say but that when that gift comes, I will hold it close to my heart and send a silent prayer of gratitude for having had the privilege of receiving such a gift.
In this world where money means all, there are still are people who show us that there is something far more important called love! A lesson many of us forget..
by Anuradha Bakshi | Mar 14, 2007 | utpal
I wrote about this little red bag many moons ago! After delivering its contents to Utpal’s dorm in school, it returned empty and sat in the linen cupboard waiting for its next mission. A few days back I retrieved it from the top shelf .
Om march 17th it will set off again to Uptal’s school and for there will accompany him to Karam Marg where little Mr p will spend a whole week with his mom and his sister. I have been filling the little bag with many things: clothes for him, and some for his mom and sis’, a pot of his favourite chocolate spread, and a few toys as it is his birthday on the 20th, one we will all be celebrating with him at K marg.
What an incredible journey this five year old has made in one year. His last birthday was celebrated in his home with his parents and some of us and I still remember how happy he was with the battery operated motorbike he rode with glee. A few days later his crestfallen face said it all: his bike had been sold for a few pegs of hooch. A week later hell broke loose as his mom sunk as low as one can imagine and he watched helpless from the arms of an unknown man.
In one day he lost everything his home, the presence of his mom and the man who he called papa.
But Utpal is one of a kind and he bore it all with dignity well beyond his age. He spent time at home and then on a fateful July day his bag and him walked through the gates of his new school where he walked into every one’s heart.
Nest week after a long long year utpal will sleep in his Mommy’s arms. For me it is probably one of the best moments of my life as I see this little family scattered helter skelter for reasons beyond any one’s control reunite amidst the greenery and the ducks of karm gaon.
I have filled his little bag with surprises and hope that he will be reminded of his maam’ji who loves him so desperately till I can hold him and whisper words of love in his ears.
by Anuradha Bakshi | Mar 14, 2007 | two indias
I have been harping about the importance of environment issues, the plastic menace, the lurking water wars. I am the first to try and point this out when I wear my project why boss hat! Imagine my surprise when this morning in in the privacy of my bathroom I found myself lost in thought brushing my teeth with the tap running.
As I turned it off, I wondered how many times I must have done this offer, or for that matter how many times must I have not done what I preach. Many must have seen the now sated skit on environment where the page 3 lady is writing a speech on the importance of saving trees and throwing innumerable sheets of paper in the waste basket.
With great aplomb I had launched a programme with project why kids called once is not enough! It aimed at teaching children to use each thing twice: newspapers, plastic bottles, plastic bags etc. It was a great programme but somehow got lost in transit. Maybe because it was another instance of not practicing what one preaches and thus did not come naturally.
Our generation was brought up in believing that water was a perennial resource, and probably it was for those who lived in water rich areas. respect and awareness of the importance of water existed even in yore years.
My mother whose maternal grandparents lived in the city of Jodhpur often reminisced about how water was a rare and expensive commodity, and how women had mastered the art of using infinitesimal quantity of water for all their daily chores. Hair was plaited into tiny plaits and then woven into a mat on the top of the head, and washed every fortnight only. Mama and her brothers came from a city were water was in abundance and could never quite get used to the Jodhpur ways.
She also told me that during the marriage of her parents, her grandfather had spent huge amounts of money on water. The groom’s party had come from Benares by train. The train had been delayed and the auspicious time had gone by. The priests had then decreed that the next propitious time would be 10 days later. Now the marriage party could in no way return to Benares so stayed on, and as custom has it, all expenses had to be borne by the girls’ family. So the marriage party stayed and used water in large quantities. Frequent baths, great clothes washing sessions and of course great waste of water that was brought on camel back from wells situated miles away, and costing the earth!
A friend and mentor told me that the biggest culprit in the waste water saga was piped water and taps in each home. If we had to walk, albeit a few meters and draw water from a well/tank we would understand how precious it was. Many do not know about the violent fights that happen each day at water points in slums. One again we live in the misplaced idea that this cannot happen to us.
In days when plastic bags did not exist, women carried shopping bags, some so tiny that they could be slipped in a pocket. Few years back when people went abroad, we asked them to bring back the plastic bags they got in shops, as these were non-existent in India. Today plastic bags are everywhere and have replaced our traditional leaf wrapping. My daughter has been waging a war against plastic bags at home, and even pointed out that on some days more than 30 or 40 such bags entered our home. She practices what she preaches and has to battle with shopkeepers who often have wrapped your purchase in 1, 2, 3 bags before you have had time to react. True that we forget to carry bags, but were we to apply the once is not enough principle, then you ask the shopkeeper for an old and used bag hence delaying its reaching the garbage dump.
Last week drove out of Delhi into tiny villages and was appalled to see the mound of plastic that lay practically everywhere and even close to green fields. The day is not far when good agricultural land will turn barren courtesy plastic.
I is not easy to change mindsets, and lifelong habits, but the onus lies with us who are educated and can foresee the disaster that looms ahead. For me this morning’s incident has been a wake up call on two fronts: one to make a conscious effort in my own home even it it means sticking post its everywhere, the other is to revive the once is not enough project with all pwhy children.
by Anuradha Bakshi | Mar 13, 2007 | ghaziabad girls
Yesterday my dear friend North sent a mail sharing her panic about her son Lee whose building was on fire. I cannot go to him, I cannot hold him, nor can I send him money to replace his loss’s… we both need prayers of courage and strength..
These were the words of a caring mother and they touched my heart all I could do was pray. A later mail told us Lee was safe.
North is a special person and she has been with me in all my difficult moments holding my hand so that i would not give up. In my battle to save utpal, she stood by me like a rock. She is one of a kind and never ceases to amaze me.
So when the mail seeking help for the ghaziabad girls reached her inbox this exceptional woman cast her own problems aside and immediately offered to help.
Spirit North is one of a kind. Invisible people we often fail to see as we do not know how to open the eyes of our heart and often look for the trivial, missing the essential. It is only in the last few years when I set foot on planet why that I was able to start seeing with my heart. If planet why is vibrant and ticking today it is because of many exceptional people who have reached out when they did not need to, and more than money which seems to be the only touchstone of our era, they reached out with their love and support.
To all of you who made my dream a reality I say thank you for being there!
