by Anuradha Bakshi | Feb 16, 2007 | two indias
My daughter just called from Varanasi. She had gone there with some musician friends to spend Shivaratri. She is a person who spurns all rituals and is somewhat an agnostic. I had tried to share my experience of this holy city that I had visited many years back when I had fallen under its spell.
So imagine my dismay when she told me that the evening Arati on the banks of the Ganga was now sponsored by some five star hotel group and was a well orchestrated affair. In my now fading memory, the evening arati was a spontaneous affair where the dissonant chants of each priest lent a special flavour to the prayers. Every one lent their voices and hummed when words were forgotten. We each held on to our precious lamp waiting to let it sail on the water. The mood mas magic and spellbinding with each one lost in their own thoughts and prayers. Even when the arati ended it took some time before one reconnected and started moving again.
A sponsored prayer seemed anathema to me, robbing the sacred of its very essence. My mind went back to the recent hullabaloo about Valentine’s day. What would the protectors of our Indian identity say have to say about this.
I guess there are two ways in which we can look at such occurrences: one is that everything is acceptable as it brings extra income in a world that extols globalisation, the other is to try and draw some lines but then who bells the cat.
Perhaps there is a third one, and that is to go back to the very essence of our religion in its purest form and find the much needed sacredness within one’s self as in this world where money has assumed a hallowed place, everything is possible.
And maybe, next Valentine’s Day someone should wonder why it is Radha who sits in temples next to Krishna and not Rukmini his wedded spouse.
by Anuradha Bakshi | Feb 14, 2007 | okhla, two indias, utpal
Today being the much and over hyped St V’s day, I decided to give my acerbic pen a rest and write about love, albeit a different kind from the one flaunted at every corner!
This post is not about red roses and heart shaped cards, but about Amit Bhaiyya whose unwavering brand of love has infused many a moments at pwhy with a warm glow.
Amit is your regular boy next door, with an engineering degree and a smart job in a smart MNC. But that is where the comparison stops as Amit has something his peers do not normally have: a heart of gold!
He dropped by our forsaken planet about two years back quietly promising to help us. At that time we took his assurances with a pinch of salt as many had come , promised, and gone! But not Mr A. He slowly and unobtrusively crafted his space at project why and stayed on. What made him special was that he did it without the usual fanfare.
Today, two years down the line he teaches at our Okhla centre whenever he has time, has organised shows and even a fund raiser, and has given up many a Sundays to spend them with Utpal in his boarding school.
Just yesterday we needed blood for our little Nanhe and not knowing how to get it, we called dependable Mr A. Without much ado he took his lunchtime off and travelled in the rain to donate that unit of much needed blood.
His gentle smile and quiet ways has warmed the cockles of many a heart and to us he is precious. His brand of love is rare in today’s India as it transcends all social and other barriers so what better love than this to be celebrated on this day.
Happy St V’s!
by Anuradha Bakshi | Feb 13, 2007 | ghaziabad girls, two indias
I had recently written about the professor Sabharwal case and the hostile witnesses. Actually it was just yesterday. I somehow knew that it would not be long before a campaign of sorts would be launched and civil society would be shaken for its slumber. Hence i was not surprised when on prime time TV a teaser was aired where Himanshu the son of the slain professor filled our space with the heart tugging words: I see my father die everyday.
The campaign was launched and it was now only a matter of time before justice would once again be restored.
My mind travelled back to a few months when the same channel had brought onto every home across the land the faces of 50 odd little girls who had suffered hell at the hands of a saintly abuser. That night civil society was outraged and many reacted, but somehow a gnawing feeling filled me as I saw how the local police stepped in ad protectors of the abuser and ensured that the case remain within their precinct. Then a few news items as the abuser appeared in court surrounded by his vociferous supporters, and then a deafening silence.
Months have passed and one wonders where the girls are? Months have passed and one wonders what has happened to the abuser? In spite of our efforts we were not able to break the silence. A small group was set up by some of us and we also made the news as bloggers for a cause. But at the end of the day we were left high and dry without any news of the outcome of the case.
If high profile cases get mishandled then the boggling of the ghaziabad ashram case is a sure reality. I remember the girls being petrified of the possible backlash if they dared speak out. Two of them had in fact escaped their tormentor and gone to the local cops. They were just bundled in a car and brought back to their hellhole.
True that they are under the care of the local administration, but in today’s India we all know for whom the bell tolls. These girls are somewhere alone and helpless. All those like us who made promised to them have failed them. They have no one to take up the cudgels on their behalf as they belong to the wrong side of India and unlike the Nithari kids they do not even have families. Some are mentally challenged, shildren of a lesser God who seems to have forsaken them.
I am at a loss and can only carry on writing about them in the hope tat someone will hear and reach out; I can only carry on writing about them so that they remain alive on some net page and not be forced into oblivion.
Let us not forget the indubitable fact that the abuser was carry on on his horrific game for over 30 years. Wonder where all the other girls are?
by Anuradha Bakshi | Feb 12, 2007 | common school, lohars, two indias
Two young ladies age 6 and 11 visited project why last week. Their mom a high executive in the hospitality industry had brought them along as she felt it would be a good experience for them.
We went hopped from one part of pwhy to the other: from a building in a narrow lane, to a tiny shack in side a crowded slum, to the class in the garbage dump via the broken lohar camp to our smart computer centre.
The girls kept silent as they imbibed what they saw. As we bid good bye I could asked the younger one whether she would like to come and teach her peer group all the songs she learnt in her fancy school. her eyes lit up as she looked eagerly at her mom before nodding her head. Her elder sibling remained silent.
Later I asked my friend what the reactions of the girls had been and was not surprised when she told me that the little one was eager to come back while the older one had not said much barring the fact that it had made her sad.
Once again the two Indias were evident. The yet candid and unspoilt little one had immediately felt at ease and one with other kids her age as social and economic origins meant nothing to her, she was a child amongst other kids. The older one had more to deal with as she felt apart and different yet sensitive enough to feel sad!
Once again this vindicated my view of the necessity of a common school to bridge the now glaring gap between the two Indias.
by Anuradha Bakshi | Feb 12, 2007 | two indias
A journalist from a leading western newspaper dropped by last week. She was researching an article on the impact of globalisation on the other side of India. She had visited some of the slum resettlement sites and expressed her indignation at the state of these rapidly set up spaces devoid of every basic need; water, schools, dispensaries etc. and wanted to know my views on the subject.
After she left I sat down for a long time trying to process what we had shared in those two hours and what I had experienced in the past years.
Globalisation has hit India. It is visible in the proliferation of swanky stores that sell everything you can dream of provided you face the money. I recall the days when one carefully made lists handed over to people who were going abroad. If I were to make a list today I wonder what it would contain.
Globalisation has hit India as is evident in the number of plastic pouches you see strewn on the streets of any slum: shampoos and shaving creams, detergent and hair conditioner, sauces and jams, coffee and you name it. A few years back the only pouches you saw were those of tobacco related ware.
Globalisation has hit India as foreign companies and MNCs realise the mind boggling size and buying power of this new market. To tap the size you need to flood the market with bite size goods at bite size prices, and as far as the other side of spectrum is concerned there is no limit.
Globalisation has hit India as is evident by the number of malls that are mushrooming everywhere: I even saw some being planned in lush fields that can only be reached today by a single track dirt road.
Globalisation has hit India as is seen in the multitude of gleaming bikes in slums and the variety of new cars in the now legendary traffic jams. Never mind if the bikes have been paid for by plastic money
Globalisation has hit India as is evident in the re-planning of this city where the planners in their hurry seem to have forgotten every rule in the book. An underpass imperils an age old heritage monument whereas a proposed games village threatens to choke an already dying river. And just today a building in a resettlement colony collapsed killing many people as its foundations had weakened following an unplanned and hurried demolition drive.
To many globalisation and liberalisation are welcome practices if India is to become a world class nation. But the way it is happening is wrought with dangers we may not be able to see at present. One of the most glaring effect seems to be on the increased gap between the two Indias where if one India is shining if not dazzling, the other is being pushed into further darkness. This may not be apparent to all, but our journalist did feel the need to add to every article she wrote on the shining India, a few words to temper the mood with references to the other India.
The writing is on the wall but we have lost the ability or sensitivity to see it. Plastic money that now inundates slums heralds the recovery nightmare and probable suicides. Pouches that strew slum lanes are slowly choking the city with apocalyptic consequences. The banning of street vendors, neighborhood trades and small shops will lead to increased unemployment and threaten the safety of the city. Slums relocated miles away will result in more kids being denied education and more people losing their livelihood.
Globalisation has hit India but unless we tailor it to our needs it may become a hydra headed monster difficult to tame. I recently met DK Matai ACTA is an initiative aimed at addressing these very challenges in a global way. But each one of us can and needs to address them too, and the least we can do is become aware of the flip side of the coin.
As I have written many times before, reaching out to the less privileged is no more an act of charity but an investment in the morrows of our children. One has to become sensitive to the reality that globalisation cannot be at any price.
I gall when I see the price tag attached to some of the items in luxury stores: a hand bag at 30K or ten months of salary at a minimum wage does not ring right. The urban poor cannot be wished away, they stand at our door step with the same dreams as ours.
Globalisation yes, but not at any price!
by Anuradha Bakshi | Jan 30, 2007 | ghaziabad girls, noida children, two indias
A short news item aired yesterday showed relatives of children killed in Noida by serial killers blocking a road and protesting the slow pace of the probe.
My mind travels back to the week where the whole nation watched the nightmare of NOIDA unfold. Rewind to a few weeks earlier and one’s thoughts go to the plight of the 50 odd Ghaziabad orphanage girls waiting to be released while their abuser smirked on.
Somehow the girls seem lost in some incomprehensible labyrinth of justice and bureaucracy that mere mortals cannot reach. The mind races back to the time when one could visit them in spite of the harrowing presence of their abuser, and bring them a few moments of solace.
Now one just sits helpless and lost.
Recently we experienced the deafening furore of Ms Shetty and her tryst with the celebrity big brother. The racist remarks ultimately paid. Few months ago Jessica and Priyardhasini got the much awaited justice when voices took on their case. But those voices belonged to well educated, English speaking upmarket people and hence they were heard. They belonged to the right India, as did those that ensured that little Anant return home safely!
The Ghaziabad girls and the Nithari children do not have that luck. The voices heard yesterday were not the right ones.
Let us not forget that the true perpetrator of the crimes against the Nithari children was not the predator but the police and the administration. Today again it seems that the same game is being played.
In a few days or weeks, the tired parents will have to go back to the task of surviving and even these feeble voices will die out.
I had feared this would happen and hoped that we would see the writing on the wall and do something. My fear has been confirmed, my hope shattered.
Many heralded 2006 as the year of the rise of civil society, maybe one should add a rider: it only words in one India, the other remains unchanged.
