by Anuradha Bakshi | Apr 30, 2007 | girl child
Modigliani could have painted her. Were she a few inches taller she could have walked the ramp. But little Mahajabi’s mom was born in a poor Muslim family in India a land where little girls are not welcome, a land where they are often done away with, a land where they just go missing.
Their fate if they do survive is no bed of roses. Mahajabi’s mom does not even know her age but seems barely out of her teens, but unlike her peers in well to do homes or other lands, she looks used and abused. She has five children the eldest 5 and the youngest 10 months. She must have been married at a time when girls are normally carefree and got pregnant soon after. Since, her life has been spent being pregnant and breastfeeding while caring for her ever growing family. In her world any form of birth control is sinful and blasphemous. As long as her body is capable of bearing children she will continue doing so. She has no choice. Hers is a life devoid of rights; just a string of duties defined by traditions and mores made and defined by men.
Her husband is a daily wage labourer and barely earns enough for his family. Mahajabi’s heart condition has come as a bolt from the blue and thrown the family out of gear. And yet she is a mother and cannot remain silent so she has moved in with her parents till the child is attended to and healed. With a courage and determination well beyond her years, this woman who does not know her own age, requested her neighbour to accompany her to the hospital as the child was sick. She had dropped by to ask us for some proof she could show the doctors who had earlier refused to attend to the child as they must have thought that this poor family could never gather the required 60 000 Rs.
But they were unaware of the power of a mother’s prayers and the ways of the God of Lesser beings who is beyond religion and faith. Mahajabi will have her operation and will be given a chance to live.
But as one watched them leave, one wondered how long would little girls have to wait before they were given their rightful place in society.
by Anuradha Bakshi | Apr 20, 2007 | girl child
Whenever one feels low or a tad dejected a miracle drops by to lift one’s spirits in a nano second.
This week’s miracle was a visit by little Anisha and her sunshine smile. All woes and bad thoughts were whisked away as she entered the room in her mother’s arms and greeted us with her dazzling smile. Was this the same child who just a few months back could barely breathe?
She regaled us with her new antics and one could not resist puling her now plump cheeks. Anisha who was barely surviving with numerous holes in her heart, was today alive! And we at pwhy granted ourselves the right to celebrate our sunshine girl.
by Anuradha Bakshi | Apr 16, 2007 | girl child
Remember Babli? Yes the one whose heart was fixed with success but life was not. The little girl who wanted to be a police? Seems she needs us again as she of all the 12 children who have had heart surgeries is the one who has not grown an inch or put on a pound.
Babli is as neglected as she was before and though she does now go to school, she often misses pwhy on a pretext or another. The spirited little girl of yesterday is slowly turning into a listless child. We have tried for months now to counsel her parents but to no avail. Her father seems too busy playing cards and her mother too busy clocking overtime at the factory she works in.
What cannot forget the bright eyes filled with huge dreams that use to meet ours when she was in hospital, almost as if she knew that the operation was her way to transforming her life. As time passed on and she got better, the dreams seemed to fly away. I wonder if she too slowly realised that she was now confined into the well scripted role of an elder sibling.
It was time to act again. After much deliberation we have decided to convince her parents to send her to karam marg where she can go to school, play in the open with other children and make up for lost time.
We hope that her parents will agree.
by Anuradha Bakshi | Apr 11, 2007 | girl child, two indias
Bachha ghat is not a play ground for children, it is the only place where children under three can set be to rest after their death. Hinduism does not allow them to be cremated as it is said that their soul is not connected to their body! This was brought to light in a disturbing and shocking news item aired yesterday on national television.
What one forgets is that what is set to rest is not a few pounds of flesh. What is set to rest is a child, nurtured and loved by its mother, held with pride by its father. What is laid to rest is a set of unfulfilled and crashed dreams, what is laid to rest is a life cut short.
I can speak with authority as I lived all my life under the shadow of a dead brother I never knew, one that lived but a few days on earth but lived in my mother’s memory till she breathed her last, a brother who was ever present in my life. I guess my parents were lucky that he was born and died in an alien land. A tombstone marks his brief passage on earth in a Prague cemetery.
I can speak with authority as only a few years ago I scurried around the city with a tiny bundle in my arms looking for a dignified place to lay it to rest. To many it was just a 7 months still born foetus, but for one young mother it was her first child. I had been summoned to Safdurjung hospital by a pwhy staff who was admitted there, as this very young mother had gone in a state of shock when she was told to hand over her child so that it could be thrown in the hospital dustbin. She had refused to let go of her baby and sat in catatonic inertia. When I reached the maternity ward I just held out my shawl and gently asked the girl to give me her child promising her a dignified send off. She did. That was the beginning of an ordeal I cannot forget.
I took my precious bundle which for me was above all a mother’s love and went to the one place I knew: the Lodhi crematorium foolishly believing that there must be an option for young children. As we alighted from the three wheeler I could see a bunch of predators (read funeral rites priest) approach us, gauging our worth and probably thinking we were an advance part to some funeral. When they knew what we had come for, they just walked away in disdain, not even listening to our plea.
I must thank our stars that no one guided us to bachha ghat. Refusing to give up as my promise had to be honoured, I stood my ground. A few minutes later an elderly man approached us and told us that we could bury the child a little further in the empty grounds that lay ahead. He did not reveal that it was the defecating place of the nearby slums. We found a place that seemed clean. No help was forthcoming from the people that had gathered around so we slowly dug a grave with our bare hands, and lay the little child to rest, wrapped in its shawl, and carefully laid stones on the grave and placed the few flowers we had brought with us.
Yesterday’s news item brought back this forgotten day.
We are a city busy building malls, and expressways; we are a city displacing the poor with impunity; we are a city busy dividing the gap between rich and poor and yet this incident shows that at least in death rich children and poor children are treated the same way.
The said TV channel held a discussion of this shocking reality and once again we witnessed the birth of a new polemic with all the necessary ingredients for endless debates for all: politicians, opposition, religious leaders, the judiciary, the newly empowered citizen groups et al..
But as the debate goes on, more children will find their way to the baccha ghat while the city will be busy for 2010 a red later day for many. Today’s world is for the living rich, not for the dead and least of all for the poor.
by Anuradha Bakshi | Mar 21, 2007 | girl child
Miracles happen to those who believe them says a quote, but some are a little difficult to imagine let alone believe in. And yet on that long hot drive back from the grim rehab centre to my home about a year back, there was a picture that flashed in my mind as I held on to the little boy who had in one dark night lost his childhood: it was a hazy picture of a day when he would be reunited with his mom and sister in a ‘happy place’. And no matter how dim and remote it would seem at times, I never let it go!
The picture you see is not a figment of my imagination nor a piece of trick photography. It is a kodak moment. This moment happened yesterday when finally all the elements of a complex puzzle fell in place, and even the colors were right; Popples celebrated his 5th birthday with his mom and sister and best pal kiran and even maam’ji, in an idyllic place where ducks and flowers are in abundance and surrounded by a motley group of 60 kids who just like him one day lost all hope but regained it here.
The journey was long and the hurdles many but were all met with courage and dignity. An alkie mother had to be cured, a baby had to learn to live in an alien place, and a young girl had to be rescued from lurking predators all this while battling a host of so called well wishers bent upon opposing your every move. yes the odds were against us and the dice was loaded, the social profile was wrong, the foes many but somehow the happy picture remained engraved in my memory.
Yesterday once again the mr p support group set out for this special event. Armed with games and toys for his new pals and overflowing love we landed at karmmarg to celebrate a real mother and child reunion. There was laughter and song, Durga Utpal’s sister delighted us with a bolywood number, and we all sat in the shade amidst nature at his best and shared a lunch that would surpass any three star gourmet meal.
The day was picture perfect and the old maam’ji so moved that even the photographs turned out misty, but do have a look at them
by Anuradha Bakshi | Mar 1, 2007 | girl child
I have never understood the intricacies of economics and figures, inflation and GDP or all such terms. During college time budget day was one when one waited to find out whether cigarettes would cost more. Not that one gave up smoking, one just adjusted things and I guess unconsciously made our own yearly budget. And come to to think about it this happened with every commodity as one slowly watched petrol going from 3 rs to 4o rs or so: one just adjusts one’s life.
For many years too the budgetary allocations to social programmes did not mean much bar the fact that one felt that they were needed and welcomed them with a nod of approval: midday meals for school kids, education for all, jobs for all: it felt comfortable and appeased one’s conscience as one felt something was happening.
It is only in recent years when I descended from a comfortable ivory tower that I faced a reality check. The Utopian midday meal became a real inedible offering, the superlative SC girl child programmes turned out to be a catch 22 game, and primary education a transit of many years in a insalubrious school before you dropped out. And yet on paper all these schemes seemed to right.
So yesterday as the new budget unfolded and new social schemes were revealed I was glad that many voiced what I silently thought: will these reach the beneficiary or be fodder for more hungry officials as the mind boggling administrative requirements will fly right over the true beneficiary.
Come to think of it we only have one year to make all this happen as on 28 February 2008 a new budget with new schemes will be presented. And this game will carry on till the day civil society does not come to the fore and ask for accounts! Last year we got a tool to do just that: RTI Act and some of taken on the formidable task to bring this act to the people. We as voters and tax payers need to demand accounts for every penny spent. A commentator mentioned a past Prime Minister stating the sad reality that of every rupee allocated only 16 paise reached the beneficiary.
As long as we remained silent spectator or armchair critics nothing will change. There are excellent schemes in existence and should they be allowed percolate down to the right beneficiary a tangible change would come about. The true beneficiary cannot turn whistle blower: he is often totally unaware of the scheme itself let alone the way to seek redressal. he will continue making his budgetary adjustments . The government will continue making yearly social schemes as they make good copy for electoral speeches, and we will remain in our obstinate silence and inertia, emerging out of it for brief moments when we feel the issue may directly touch us.
Yes we all want a shining India but how can it shine when a large chunk of it survives in darkness. Unfortunately it cannot be wished away. We need to be the whistle blowers; each one of us, asking accounts for the money spent as it is our own!
Last week a friend who was organising a workshop on disability asked a senior government official how a person without papers got a disability certificate; the answer was predictable: ma’am everyone in Delhi has a ration card.
No Mister, that is not true, there are many who do not and getting one is quasi impossible and yet they are handicapped and the ones who really need access to your programmes!
