My 799th post seems to have been the most popular one I have ever written, if one is to go by the number of comments (a whopping 24 to the normally 1 or 2!)). I agree that the heap of rubbish lying on our tiny terrace did get the better of me for some time at least, till things settled and one got hold of one’s self.
No I did not return the things as many suggested as to me what matters is not to make an enemy, but to try and get people to change the way they look at the other India and treat it with respect if not affection and compassion.
A friend directed me to a video that he thought I would as he said understand! The idea is simple and stark: simply ask a cross section of people what they would do if they were given hundred rupees. I share the video with you and urge you to spare the few minutes required to watch it:
Some of you may not understand the answers in Hindi. They are the ones given by the other side of India, the hidden and forgotten one. They simply range from I will buy food, I will paymy school fees, I will give it to my mum to simply I will hide it.
And to the manner born, it is a custom More honour’d in the breach than the observance.
Shakespeare (Hamlet)
I wonder what it takes to be to the manner born. I have often been stunned by the unexpected gestures of pwhy kids that make me wonder about who is truly to the manner or manor born.
I look forward to the weekly report I get from Prabin, the housemaster of our foster care programme as each week a special treat is in store for me. This weeks report was short and crisp but had not one but two surprises for me.
Manu it seemed now wished everyone good night before he went to sleep. Nothing to write home about would be the normal reaction, but how can one forget where Manu comes from and what a miracle these two simple words were.
But there was more.
Last Friday the foster care children went for a visit to Lotus temple. At the gate of the temple a Canadian volunteer was greeting every visitor with a Namaste and handing out information flyers to all. No one answered her greeting or murmured a thank you to her. Our children answered her Namaste and thanked her for the flyer without be prompted to do so. The lady was impressed and took time to interact with them. Some people stopped and asked Prabin which school the children studied in.
Now remember these kids – Babli, Vicky, Nikhil and Aditya – come from the most deprived homes possible. When they came to us they were aggressive, used language and were a real handful. Today they make us proud.
I wonder what it takes to be to the manner or manor born!
Yesterday was children’s day. One would have liked to celebrate it with all the 700 project why children but for reasons beyond our control one just could not. So it was decided to give our creche children a special treat. One of the reasons that made us take this decision was the fact that most of the creche children come from extremely deprived homes and have never gone beyond their homes or the tiny lane of project why.
After much deliberation it was decided to take the children to the Doll Museum. Thirty children with 6 teachers and 2 volunteers were the chosen ones. The tinier ones were given a holiday. The next problem was transport: the cost of a bus being prohibitive we agreed upon using our vehicle of choice – the three wheeler. Four of them were booked for the day.
It was touching to see the children arrive in the morning in their ‘party’ outfits, each brighter than the other. A name tag was hung around their neck and clutching their water bottles the kids were ready to go.
First stop the Doll Museum. After a the required group photograph, the children were taken around the museum. It was amazing and touching to see their little faces looking at the dolls with bewildered eyes. The only dolls they had ever seen were the few that sat on the shelf of their classroom. None of them had ever owned a doll. They looked fascinated at the dolls from different countries and parroted the names the teachers diligently told them. Time somehow seemed to stand still as they ambulated around the room moving from one doll to another, too fascinated to even utter a word. For them it was a trip to another land, or even another planet. It was a magical moment for all.
After the Doll Museum the teachers decided to take them to the children’s park. Once again the kids were taken aback by the expanse of greenery, too spell bound to react. Their world was dirty lanes and dark homes where there was no place for flowers, grass or trees. At the park many activities had been planned for children and our little lot decided to join the dance competition. Staff and kids dances their heart away and would have for much longer had not little tummies started growling. It was time to look for food.
The teachers had yet another treat planned for the children: a meal at a proper restaurant. So it was time to climb into the scooters and zip to our favourite south Indian eatery, one that would not gall at having 30 slum kids. The children were again mesmerized. They had never been to a restaurant and at first could not figure out what the place was as it looked alien to them. But project why kids are one of a kind and they sat quietly wondering what would happen in this space that looked like a classroom. The wait was short as plats of hot vadas and other goodies were soon placed in front of them. They ate their meal with gusto, as if to the manor born.
The meal over it was time to head back to the centre, and then home. The children were quiet, their little heads filled with images and sensations they would treasure for days to come. It had been an incredible day.
We too felt content as we looked into their little faces and read all the unsaid words.
You can share some of the very special of this day here:
Sunday was the first PTM of the foster care. We were a little apprehensive about whether all the parents would turn up. The room was set up, every child’ school copy was laid out and we waited expectantly.
It was truly heartwarming to see that all parents were on time, some even turned up a hour early.This was perhaps the very first time they were attending a PTM. When everyone was settled, Prabin our stellar house master began the meeting by giving a brief outline of the daily routine and activities. He also showed the proud parents the children’s school books and copies. Then it was time for the parents to share their concerns.
As each parent began to speak, our hearts filled with pride. Nikhil, his father said, was a different boy. When home for the week ends he urged his siblings to complete their homework and chided them for wasting food. Babli’s mom was eager to tell us that Babli now spoke in English with her elder brother and loved sharing stories about her life at the foster care. Vicky’s mom, a normally shy lady, told everyone how happy she was at the change in the behaviour of her son. She had once found him so difficult to manage; now when he was home he not only helped her but scolded his siblings when they were rude to her. Aditya’s mom was delighted at the progress her son was making!
It was indeed a special moment. These parents who had never praised their children were for the very first time lauding them with immense pride and joy. I remembered the day when I had first suggested to these very parents that they send their children to us and there had been a little hesitation and reticence. But all that was gone now.
My mind traveled back to the days when many had expressed their reservations to our foster care programme. One of the concerns many had was that the children would reject their families and become misfits. I never believed that and always held that they would finally turn out to be agents of change. Our little bacchashave proved me right. In the span of a few months they have already starting carrying back messages and making a difference in the lives of their very own. I was overwhelmed.
But the day was not over and more surprises were in store for us. Champa’s mom came late and though she barely speaks Hindi she managed to convey to us that Champa loved the foster care and always wanted to go back. Champa had finally come home.
But there was still more to come. I cannot find the words to express what I felt when Prabin told us that for the very first time Manu had a bathed himself alone thought it had taken him 35 minutes to do so. What a journey it had been but somehow at that moment I felt I had reached home!
It was almost six months ago or even more that I first heard about Nina. In one of her early emails to us she simply wrote: I am taking a year off because I am planning on going to graduate school next fall (2009) and thought this was the best time to do it, I have always wanted to spend more time in India as my parents and extended family are from there, but I was born in the U.S. and have only ever been there to visit.
To many this may look just like innocuous words , but they struck a deep chord within me. I always feel deeply moved when young people feel the need to find out their roots as it echoes an important part of my life when I sought to do the same. And what touched me even more was the fact that this young woman decided to reconnect with the land of her ancestors not by flitting around cities and places of touristic interest but by spending time with the most deprived and sharing quality time with them. Somehow intuitively she had understood where the real India was.
Nina walked into our hearts and very quickly adapted to our ways. After a few days spent in getting acquainted with the project it was felt that she should teach English to our teachers and also help us work out a curriculum for the primary classes. A pattern set in and Nina became a part and parcel of project why. She also has been busy helping us make presentations and now even handles visitors with great aplomb!
I have always warmed up to young people who take time off from their studies or other commitments to reach out to the less privileged. I am convinced that this makes one a better person as it helps reconnect with one’s self and discover who we really are. Sadly young Indians have not understood this.
As I watch Nina go by her activities I realise how important volunteers have been to us. They have each brought into project why something special and unique and made us that little bit better as they more than anyone have perfected the heart of seeing with their hearts.
Hopes are riding high in the wake of the Obama victory. Every news channel is busy trying to see whether the world will be a better place now, whether things will actually change. Even though we all know that miracles cannot happen, that the situation on the ground is far from happy, that what happens in the USA does not truly affect our realities, the victory of this black man of humble origins has somewhat given everyone a ray of hope and I guess that is what everyone is busy celebrating.
Yesterday a horrific incident brought to light the dark side of the reality we live, one that we try and conceal but that nevertheless exists; one that makes me wonder where the hope we are busy celebrating actually is.
A 13 year old girl was rescued from the clutches of her employers after 8 months of torture and pure hell. She had been in the service of a young up market educated couple with two children. The couple abused her mercilessly and endlessly. What was even more horrifying was that the couple admitted they acted in such a despicable manner to bust their stress.
I am wordless and cannot begin to understand the hows and whys of this tragic case. What frightens me is that this act was perpetrated by educate and well to do people. And if educated and well to do people act is such ways then there seems to be no hope for anyone of us. A litany of questions come to mind: why do educated people break laws (the child was under age)? what gives one human the right to abuse another (modern day slavery)? what is the point of education if one behaves in such a way? how can a mother treat another child this way? and will the law actually punish the perpetrators? who will heal the scars of the little girl and what will her future be?
The case of this girl is an extreme one. That anyone should feel the need to use another human being to deal with their own stress seems a psychotic behaviour. But let us not take solace in this: the week gone has seen many tragic occurrences: the honour killing of two young teenagers who had dared followed their dream, a hate campaign fueled by a senseless killing, protectors turning into perpetrators of terror, and more of the same. Such incidents lead us to believe that all is not right, that our search of hope seems very futile and empty, if not fake. The day when an Obama like person comes our way is remote if not chimera.
The reasons are many. Our society is still far too divided and fractured what is frightening is that this state of things is accepted and even sustained by the so called educated. I was appalled at the reaction of a well educated lawyer to the honour killings of the two girls. He seemed to almost condone the act explaining that if a girl in a family stepped out of line it would lead to the family being ostracised by the community. What was scary was the fact that he felt there was no solution or way out.
This is the sad reality we live. One where we are always politically correct in denouncing wrong doings but are never willing to walk the talk. One where issues are worth being debated but are never translated into action.
Rather than celebrating hope, it is perhaps time we for once looked at ourselves honestly and candidly and accepted our share of responsibility. Then perhaps we could be justified in beginning to hope….
