by Anuradha Bakshi | Mar 13, 2007 | ghaziabad girls, two indias
Dropping by Pwhy blog has become a bedtime affair now wrote a friend all the way from China. and goes on to say: and while I know every day probably passes quite like the other, do hope to hear more abt the pwhy kids and their families on your blog.
I stand corrected!
I have often spoken about the lure of comfort zones and yet I seem to be sinking into them so Ziong mail was a wake up call and caught me once again not doing what I preach. It is true that for quite some time I have been busy remaking the world forgetting all the little miracles that quietly slip by our planet.
So time to make amends and share some of them here. I must confess that I too fell prey to the very human habit we have of blowing up stray incidents and forgetting everyday occurrences. I often give pwhy kids the example of how we as families always never fail to remind our moms/wives about the extra salt in the food that may have happened once but conveniently forget to praise her for all the other 364 days when the food was great! I too have in the past few days shared more of the sporadic forgetting the habitual.
It is true that any perception of threat, particularly when one is responsible of so many innocent lives, should be taken seriously but come to think about it these are made by cowards who rarely translate their words into action! My compulsive concern on the glaring differences between the two Indias has also taken a lot of space, though I do believe that it is something we need to address sooner than later. However this should not have led to my not sharing some of the extra-ordinary moments of life on our planet.
That we have entered our seventh year beating all odds is in itself laudable. Once gain over 400 kids will not drop out of school and this too for the seventh year running. Some will op their class, some will leave school armed with a certificate and honourable marks. More than 50 children who did not go to school will come April join the ranks of school going children instead of landing up as child labour.
Our special kids to are learning at their own speed. They had their in house designer exams and were also able to show their results to their parents. Rinky has finished her beauty course and will soon get a job, who cares if she is deaf and dumb. Moreover their stitching classes are going on well and Shaheeda and Neha even made their own party suits. Coking classes are a great favourite and last week an incredible rice pulao was made by these children of a lesser God for guests from across the sea. It was heart wrenching to see Shalini in her apron waiting for an sign of appreciation and turning all red when she got a hug from Xavier.
And that is not all Nanhe who even I had given up on is now back in class, Deepak bounces along with his new heart the days of his near death experience forgotten and his huge scar healed. Anisha and Anil will be operated upon and Sapna’s mom will finally have her prolapsed uterus fixed after 4 harrowing years.
And there is more. Planet Why had many special visitors from the world over. And in spite of our being media shy the Lok Sabha channel had a 30 minutes programme on us while NDTV came to talk to the kids about their experience in school.
We also got news of our dear ghaziabad girls something we had been waiting for for a long time.
I am glad Ziong woke me from my long slumber!
Publish
by Anuradha Bakshi | Mar 12, 2007 | two indias
I’m an alien I’m a legal alien sang Sting in his hit song of the eighties entitled an Englishman in New York. I had forgotten this song but it sprung from the recesses of my memory as I sat in front of my TV, remote in hand switching channels in the hope of finding one that was not airing a cricket related programme.
From talk shows, to replay of games, to expert comments, to ads and even the resident tarot card reader most non movie channels irrespective of the language were spouting cricket. And this was just the beginning of a long spell: India was hit by cricket fever. Notwithstanding social or economic origin, for the next few weeks there were two Indias: the one that loved the game and the few like me who did not. So for the coming days one had to.
Many years ago TV did not exist and everyone followed the game on transistors sets. During match playing days one often walked into banks or other public offices and waited a long time to get attended particularly when a star cricketer was playing. Then came TV a prize possession! We had one at home and on match day or Hindi movie day many from the neighborhood gathered in our home. It was a motley crowd of all ages with caste or creed no bar. During commercial breaks or the news bulletin tea and snacks did the rounds amidst much fun and laughter. Those were the days when you had no choice but had to see what was proffered and those evenings were more a eclectic social gathering, the movie did not matter. Everyone was there, the neighbours, the servants, the ironing man and his family and as my parents left the large bay windows open many joined in, first reluctantly then as regulars.
All that has changed, television is in almost every home even the poorest ones. And for the days to come almost everyone will be watching cricket. But unlike yore years each one will remain in his home and though a common thread will run through the land as it cheers for India, it will remain invisible and unseen.
And the likes of me, who did partake of the treat earlier as it held so much more than a game, will sing softly I’m an alien, a legal alien..
by Anuradha Bakshi | Mar 9, 2007 | two indias
remember these girls? Maybe not as our memories are short, and images get blurred or overtaken by others ones, particularly when the issue is not directly related to our lives.
Let me refresh your memories. these little girls are some of the children that invaded the privacy of our homes some months back as we all watched in temporary horror the plight of the 50 0dd girls who had been mercilessly abused by their holy caretaker.
For some time they made news till another horrific incident pushed them away. They made news till the administrative and judicial took over and locked them in another structure protected by impregnable walls. For some time we tried to keep their memory alive by trying to create a net support group but that too lost its drive as the girls seemed lost in some forbidden fortress.
One could not and did not give up. We tried relentlessly to find their whereabouts often without success till yesterday when this mail dropped in my inbox. It came from Anchal the young reporter who had broken the story:
hi there..
long time..
just got back from bareilly.. leaving for mathura tommorrow..
the girls have been shifted to mathura, bareilly, lucknow and meerut.. to the suitable? homes..
GOOD THINGS:
the girls are much better off..
no exploitation or abuse..
regular doctor..
loving and caring caretaker.. not all of them are very sensitive.. harmless though..
are taught dancing.. singing..
PROBLEMS:
[1] the standard se for homes is just not good enough..
[2] no education facility..
[3] our effort should be to cure them.. no effort in that direction..
[4] they need better beds.. even in the berilly home they sleep on the wooden cot..
[5] they are kept clean but better toilets desperately needed..
[6] they are never taken out… authorities fear that they might run off and put them in trouble.. they don’t have a proper vehicle and security..
met NHRC and lawyers today..
it would be great if we can mobilise people and motivate them to donate..
would be filing a complete story soon.. in about a day or two.. will let u know.. catch it.. will do it right before the next SC hearing.. shd.. do the mobilising then.. for larger impact..
here’s my number: 9873139409..
13 girls in: nari–niketan.. bareilly..
27 in mathura..
some in kids in lucknow..
and are getting primary education.
the swami is stil in jail
I think it is time we wake up and do something. It is not a matter of charity but a way to redeem ourselves in our own eyes!
by Anuradha Bakshi | Mar 5, 2007 | two indias
Two deaths were reported in the press yesterday: one on the front page and the other in an inside one. Both were heinous crimes. Both stemmed out of some unfathomable quirk of the mind.
In one a ‘servant’ had simply killed a young boy and an old relative of the house he had worked in for 5 years for a few pennies. In the other a woman had hit her girl servant with a laundry bat resulting in her death.
These two incidents could be dismissed with the usual fleeting moment of sympathy or stupefaction and that is what most would have done. However if one dwells on them for some time, one realises that these extreme actions could well stem out of the endemic mistrust that is more and more prevalent between what I often refer to as the two Indias.
Over the years I have witnessed the rising contempt with which people who work for you are treated. A series of sad incidents have resulted in campaigns aimed at branding all house workers as probable suspects to be verified by the police. Often this leads to sweeping remarks about the origins of such people as is heard in the: I never employ someone from Bihar, Bengal or whatever else, in many a coffee mornings.
I myself shudder when pwhy kids refer to their pals as Biharis and cannot hide my smile when I retort : I too am a Bihari!
Coming back to the two incidents one may let one’s mind wander and imagine possible scenarios. In case 1 the 5 year old servant is said to have killed for money. Wonder whether he had asked for a loan and been rebuffed, or wonder whether he had been verbally abused or ill treated. In case 2 one can also ask one’s self what the young girl did to provoke such rage; did she burn an expensive outfit, or leave stains on a garment she had washed. To take the matter further one can ask whether the reactions would have been the same if the two protagonists had belonged to the same side of the fence: had the daughter burnt the garment or the son asked for a loan?
Justice will have to take its course and I hope that it will be as severe in both cases. But what is more important is to try and see why such incidents occur and to try and find long term solutions that are equitable. Branding all of one side of the fence will just lead to widening an already cavernous gap between the two Indias. We need to build bridges of trust and understanding, to share a little of what one has in plenty as only then will our morrows be safe.
by Anuradha Bakshi | Mar 4, 2007 | two indias
My meat seller and I go a long way, more than 30 years I guess! He is a gentle Muslim who runs a tiny shop in a close by market. Over the years much has changed and many shopkeepers have spruced up their shops bu not Salim whose establishment takes me back three decades as I walk into it. Spotlessly clean, with many sayings from the Holy Koran displayed in garish frames, the meat neatly displayed and the large wooden blocks on which he and his son transform the meat into the cuts you want. The same smile greets you each time you enter except when you get the cold snub which the now initiated old clients know as translating into: the meat is not good enough for you today, as you quietly beat a hasty retreat.
I have always enjoyed the few moments spent in this tiny shop, where time seems to have stopped long ago and forgotten values still hold high.
Holi is a festival when in North India many cook a meat dish that goes well with all the intoxicants consumed. So yesterday was busy time at my Friend Salim’s shop. Many ladies in bright clothes, a handful or servants from rich homes and innumerable phone calls with orders rapidly written on a tiny note pad.
As i waited my turn, I him if we was opened the next day which was Holi. he looked at me with a smile and said yes we are, as today it will be all the high clas people that buy their met but tomorrow we will be catering to the poor.
Yes everyone eats meat on Holi, but for those who have no refrigerators and who actually do not know how much would be left when the colours for the children have been bought, and the hooch of the day consumed. Salim keeps his shop open so that everyone can have a feat, albeit a tiny one!
Happy Holi!
by Anuradha Bakshi | Mar 2, 2007 | two indias
On the day when millions of young Indians set out to write their class XII Board examinations, a TV channel aired the story of Samant Singh Rao, once a part time lecturer in Panna (Madhya Pradesh) and a proud recipient of two masters degree. A series of misfortunes led to his losing his job.
Armed with his degrees got after much toil, this son of a poor farmer set out to India’s capital city, confident that his education would get him a job. After a long search all he managed was to get a cycle rickshaw he now plies in the university area, and eeks a few thousand precious rupees that barely feed his two children back home. And to save his money, he simply sleeps on his rickshaw at night.
Samant Singh Rao is a living example of the of our state our education system where on the one hand education is branded as a panacea to all ills, while on the other useless degrees are handed out to unsuspecting candidates.
Samant Singh Rao has two Masters degree, one in history and the other in political science, and yet they seem to be useless in his quest to get a job. He is still holding on to his dreams, and maybe as a result of his brief appearance on TV someone may reach out to him. But what about all the others who clutch such degrees and wander the streets looking for employment.
We have had many come our way, and though they had the coveted piece of paper, they were often unable to pass the simple test we give any prospective teacher. And each time I come by a Samant Singh Rao, I feel terribly sad. I can imagine the hopes pinned on this child by parents who must have worked hard to ensure that their child gets an education, and can almost sense the pride they must have felt when the child succeeded in one exam after the other. And yet at the end of the day they it seems like a long journey to nowhere, almost an absurd play that Brecht could have written.
Third rate education is an impediment as often there is no going back to where you came from. Somehow the years spent learning have robbed of the right to revert to where you began. Expectations remain high and somehow it almost becomes a matter of honour. I wonder if Samant’s family know how the money the postman brings is earned.
Just this morning, as I drove to work, a police tow van was towing away two cycle rickshaws, and the two owners ran behind the van pleading for mercy. I believe that some ply without licenses and that is considered illegal. I also wondered whether any of the two had a heart rendering story to share.
