women power

women power

If change is to truly come about, it has to be routed through women. This is something I have firmly believed and yet something that has remained elusive. When project why began almost a decade ago, one of the first things we tried to set up was a self help group for women only. The idea was to get women together around an economic activity and then try and raise awareness about burning social issues in the hope of making the group an agent of change.

My mother who was in many ways an avant-garde feminist of sorts had always held women responsible for their own plight. She reveled in pointing out that most of the crime against women was perpetrated by women themselves. The most glaring example being that of the mother-in-law daughter-in-law relationship. And she went to add that it was women alone that could free themselves and bring about change.

A two day old bay girl was found in a plastic bag near a garbage dump in Delhi last week. We seem to be the capital of abandoned baby girls. Needless to say that it is far to often women who commit this abomination: a desperate girl not wanting to hear any more taunting, or one wanting to spare another a life of ignominy or perhaps a kind soul hoping the child would find a better life. What is shocking is that this is happening in India’s capital city! The reality is indubitable: little girls are not welcome. And it is also true that women alone can make them feel wanted.

Our erstwhile women’s group failed to bring about the results we wanted. Our efforts to get women to start a small unit making healthy snacks for school children – in lieu of the few rupees given to children to buy dubious eatables – failed miserably. In hindsight there were many reasons for the failure. Women were not willing to go out and market their ware. They wanted to make the snacks for a salary. This was probably due to the fact that their husbands prompted them to do so as everyone felt that NGOs have loads of money to spare. Or maybe it was because everyone who comes to the city feels he or she has a right to a job. Hard work is a prerogative of the village. Or perhaps it was due to our lack of experience in the field. Whatever the cause the attempt failed miserably and the idea was shelved.

When we seeded our women centre it was primarily to give refuge to women shunned by society and help them rebuild their lives. But right from the very first day we felt the need to reach out to local women in the hope that some day we would be able to revive old dreams and get our women’s group going. The challenge was to be able to have them review their lives and make appropriate changes. The ploy was to first gather home around an innocuous activity like stitching. Then as time went by and bonds were created we moved on to weekly meetings around a variety of subjects and cups of hot tea! Then a series of unforeseen circumstances slowed down the momentum but some time back Rani and Shamika took on the challenge and revived the process.

Now every Thursday over a dozen women come to discuss and debate several issues and share their views and dreams. And perhaps in days to come we will be able to revive our women’s group around a new activity that all would have decided upon. It is a first step in the right direction. I hope it does live up to our expectations: that of helping women set themselves free!

way to go India

way to go India

The teach India campaign is in full swing, or so we would all like to believe. Our tryst with them was short lived: we did not fit the model they proposed as we could not take in the minimum of 100 volunteers that they offered – we had asked for six. The organisers could not understand why in spite of our 9 centres we were unable to accept the 100 volunteers offered. To them the maths was simple: 9 centres into 2 shifts into 6 days = 108!

We tried to explain to them that it would be terribly unfair and even disruptive to the children and their teachers to have a new volunteer each day of the week. And though they did try to pressurise us, we stood firm: the children and their well being was far more important to us than being associated with any campaign no mater how glitzy or big.

I decided to spend some time on the website of the teach India campaign and landed on their message board. I was saddened to see that there were many young volunteers waiting for a phone call that would tell them they had been selected and would assign them a teaching opportunity. The message board was replete with words like: not received a call, no reply, no call, I am disappointed, how long?????

My heart went out to these young Indians who had taken a first step towards making a difference and were waiting for the call that would allow them to do so. Some even said they had registered 2 months ago and the campaign being for 3 months I wonder if their phone will ring. There were a few lucky ones and they shared their experiences which were heartwarming. The idea is a winner and it would be a tragedy if it failed.

In the midst of all the message threads was one that brought whoops of joy: tt simply said: Can we Form a Group if teach India doesn’t call us and go ahead. For me those simple words showed that no matter how the blitz ended it had succeeded as it had ignited a sparkle in young India. Here was a group of youngsters who were not waiting for calls but simply going ahead. They had understood the real message, the one that would save and change India. One did not wait for someone else but took on the challenge and make it happen.

I sincerely hope that the thousands of would be volunteers who may not get a call will not give up but will find it in themselves to carry the torch and teach India

the price of urban dreams

the price of urban dreams

When little Prakash was born we were delighted as he was a bonny baby. His mom was part of our programme for pregnant and lactating women and all seemed to pint to the fact that our three month intervention programme worked. But we were in for a rude shock.

Months went by and instead of thriving, Prakash began to wither. His head was the only part of him that seemed to grow, the rest his body could not keep up. His milestones were delayed and it was as if the child was vanishing. He sat in a corer of the creche, his legs folded not able to stand in spite of being 14 months old. Hi social skills remained poor and all you got from his after a lot of prompting was a toothless smile. Local doctors felt he had hydrocephalus. A series of tests were done but with no clear results. His pitiable state was heart wrenching. Not able to stand helpless we sent him to the paediatric ward of leading hospital and we has diagnosed with rickets! We were aghast as rickets is a form of severe malnutrition.

I began reading about rickets and discovered that one of its main causes is vitamin D deficiency or in other words lack of sunshine. The penny dropped. In a city where housing is a huge problem, greedy landlords have brought down their old structures, one with courtyards and sunshine, and built airless and windowless rooms where night reigns all day. When we were looking for a room for 7 month pregnant Madhu, Prakash’s mom, we found one across the street. It was dark and that is where the mother spent her last months of pregnancy and delivered Prakash. It was also there that he spent the first few months of his young life. NO matter how well we tried to feed the mother and then the child, we were unable to make up for the sun rays.

Many children are born and live in dark holes where the sun never shines. This is the price to pay for urban dreams a far cry from village life where the sun is abundant and where children spend time in the open, even as babies who are oiled and massaged and left out in the courtyard under the watchful eyes of the clan. I remember being shocked when many years back our cook brought his mother to the city for a medical check up. The woman looked very old, as all village women do, and was thin as a reed. But when her blood tests were done her haemoglobin was over 13, something rare in India. I knew the family was poor and wondered how that could be possible. he answer was simple: the family ate black millet instead of wheat flour, as the millet was what they grew in their fields, and black millet is know to be rich in iron. The family also ate lots of seasonal vegetables that grew in their yard something impossible in a city.

We will tend to little Prakash and hope he improves and makes up for lost sun. But I wonder how many little Prakashs live undiagnosed in the city.

typos, laws and the morrows of tiny souls

typos, laws and the morrows of tiny souls

To abort or not to abort that is the question? The last week has been replete with debates and discussions on the issue. The fate of a little unborn child lay in the hands of an archaic legal system and complex medical opinions. Two days back the courts decreed that the child was to live. This is not the latest plot of some avant garde movie but a real story.

An unborn foetus was diagnosed with a congenital heart problem. The parents sought legal sanction to abort the baby though the foetus was 26 weeks old on the grounds that they would not be able to bring it up. The hospital gave vague and contradictory opinions and to crown it all there was also a typographical error that sealed the fate of this unwanted child. The case has led to an onslaught of divergent opinions and debates- a mother’s right, the right to life, the plight of disabled children in India, the lack of support systems – and the battle is still on. Help has also be forthcoming for this baby: offers of adoption and free medical care. The one question that has not been raised is why this family went public with this issue in a land where clandestine abortions are an easy option? And one also wonders whether the parents now in the media and public glare will come to terms with the situation and give this child all the love and care it needs. Only time will tell.

All the children in the picture above have congenital heart conditions and thank heavens their parents did not think of aborting them. They belong to very poor families who and yet each one of them did everything they could to ensure their kids would live. Was it their prayers or the hidden hand of the God of lesser souls, but they all found their way to our heartfix hotel where broken hearts get repaired. Today they are all living healthy lives like any other kid and though there may be problems in the future I know they will all be overcome.

In another city lies a little 9 day old. Born to a surrogate mother to a Japanese family this child is also unwanted. Her surrogate parents separated while she was still in the womb of another woman and both women do not want her. The laws do not allow a single parent to adopt so she today is nobody’s child. One just hopes that the laws will bend a little to allow this child to have a real morrow.

doomed children

doomed children

On my drive back from the project I was accosted by a beggar woman at a red light. As I travel in a three wheeler, I cannot roll up the window and look away. And anyway I never do, as I cannot forget the words of a beggar woman of yore years that were perhaps one of the greatest lesson of my life.

The woman held a small baby girl in her arms and almost thrust it in the vehicle. The child seemed to be asleep but one look at it made you realise that the sleep was induced and the child drugged. His head flopped backwards and is body was flaccid. As I was not carrying any eatable, I gently asked the woman to move on. The light turned green and we went our way.

For the past few weeks I have also been disturbed by a little 2 year old who lives close to our computer centre. She has recently come from the village and is the daughter of a rather elderly man know for his anti social activities in his home state and who often comes to Delhi to escape authorities. His wife is illiterate and live sin constant fear of her husband who is to say the least quite a terror. This little girl is their second child, he first being handicapped and let in the village. We did try to convince them to send the child to the project, but in vain. The little girl spends her days on the street in front of her house or in the homes of neighbours who often shoo her away.

I wonder what the future holds for these two children of India. Actually one need not wonder, one easily guess their future. The beggar child will soon be tugging along her ‘mother of the day‘ (as the woman may have simply hired it), and as soon as she is a little older will be the one knocking at car windows. As she grows older she may be even given a pair of crutches. One day she will be married off and may be the one holding her baby and begging.

The little girl from the slum does not have a brighter future. She will follow the her uncaring parents from village to city to village. She will never attend a school or get an education. She will never have friends, or toys and one day when she is barely pubertal will be married off to some older man just as her mother was and will produce other children who will have the same fate as her.

The tragic part is that there is nothing much one can do as these children belong to strong mafia like social groups that are totally impervious to change. And yet they become a challenge that one needs to address. The question is how!

“The sun illuminates only the eye of the man

“The sun illuminates only the eye of the man

The sun illuminates only the eye of the man, but shines into the eye and the heart of the child” wrote Ralph Waldo Emerson. How true he was.

A few days back a little ray of sunshine entered our world. Pooja is 7 year old and has Down syndrome. Since she joined our special section nothing is quite the same. Pooja is an endearing soul and like all kids with trisomy is extremely affectionate and warm. She took no time in making a place for herself in the hearts of each and everyone. She is filled with mischief and a bundle of activity but someone no one seems to mind. Even the most taciturn of the lot cannot help but smile at her antics.

A few days back she commandeered poor Geetu’s lunch box hours before lunch time and decided to eat it. The normally prim and proper Geetu who is a tad possessive about her lunch simply smiled and even fed her. Pooja has still not accepted to follow the time table and the staff too indulges her so she makes her won day and decides who to sit with to what to do. Sometime she is seen practicing writing skills with the more advanced lot, or she decided to butt in puzzle making time of the other group and with a flick of her hand and a mischievous smile destroys the carefully constructed puzzle. What is amazing is that even Anurag who normally would throw a fit, simply smiles at her and sets out to rebuilding his puzzle.

We know that Pooja will soon settle. But what is amazing is the way in which her classmates have accepted her and made her one of them. The motley crew that makes up our special section is normally quite a handful each with their complex behaviour and mood swings. But somehow with this little bundle of joy, they seem to have set all aside. Is it because they intuitively know she needs their support and love. My little special kids never cease to amaze me. Evey day in their own unique way they teach me invaluable lessons to cherish.