Would you believe me if I told you that food meant for starving children was siphoned by middlemen and sold to dairy and poultry farms as feed for livestock? I guess it is so outrageous that it is hard to believe, yet it is true. This shameful fact was revealed recently in a sting operation by a leading channel. One only wonders how long this had been going on and, without being cynical, how quickly it will start again. The food in question was packaged supplement meant for angawadis (creches) in Maharashtra. The state has almost 100 000 anganwadis and spends 1280 crores Rs (~10 billion) a year on such supplements! Mind boggling! And we are talking of one state! Let us not live under the illusion that this happens only in Maharashtra. Actually such programmes are a boon for wily middlemen. The beneficiaries are voiceless toddlers and could never complain, as for others I am sure there mouths are kept shut via their pockets!

Anganwadis were an intrinsic part of the ICDS programme launched in the seventies. The package on offer was targeted to the 0 to 6 age group and was aimed at arresting malnutrition and ensuring a holistic development of young children. Had it worked then the 5000 + children that still die every day of malnourishment should have been history long ago. That it did not is apparent. 2 million children still die every year. The huge budget allocations have been hijacked and have made many humans rich and if we are to go by today’s news, many pigs and cows fat!

This is just a small example of the ground reality we either chose to ignore or are simply not interested as it does not concern us. Every year grains rots for want of proper storage. We remain mute. Time and again disturbing statistics stare us in the face but again we look away. The walls we have erected around us are impregnable and opaque, or is it our vision that is skewed to perfection? Have we not worked out ways to handle such matters in a manner that eases our conscience: see a beggar child and either look away or roll down your car window and drop a coin in the proffered hand, but keep your eyes away as if you look into the innocent eyes you run the risk of seeing with your heart and that believe you me is dangerous. If you come across child labour, be it in a tea stall or even at an acquaintance or neighbour’s home you will at best discuss the aberration in the comfort of your drawing room. How many of us pick up our phone and call the authorities. No one I know! I have even heard people reacting vehemently at a news article on child labour and then ordering a tea from the young boy manning the stall without batting an eyelid.

On a lighter vein, many of you may have got an email that did the rounds some time ago about incredible India where a pizza arrives in 30 minutes, the ambulance doesn’t, where there are more mobile phones than  toilet where car loans are cheaper than  educational loans and where food grain rots as people die of hunger. The list was longer but all in the same spirit. I do not know how many of us read it before junking it and how many really pondered about what was written.

Today’s newspaper has another incredible headline: a young student who has just passed her XIIth Boards was eligible for Harvard but not for Delhi University. Now the said kid has presumably well to do parents who can afford to send their child beyond the seas. Now this student must have marks in the 90s and still cannot secure admission in a good and affordable institution. Then what about the kid from a poor home who gets brilliant marks. She has few options if any!

The state seems to have abdicated its duty towards its poor though every political party heralds loud and clear that it is the messiah of the poor. And to prove that moots innumerable pro poor programmes that look good on paper only and land up lining many pockets before paying some kind of lip service. Imagine if even 50% of the funds reached the real beneficiaries. The sad truth is that we are still quibbling about the definition of poverty is it 28 rs a day or 32! Would it not be saner and more efficient to identify beneficiaries of programmes and open an account in their name and put in the amount due to them. But there is a hitch: how will money be made? So this is a big no no.

Take another issue that is in the news: the creamy layer definition. Now we all know that reservations have been made for students from OBC categories in various institutions. Now the hitch is to define the creamy layer that is excluded from the reservation. One would believe that such reservations would benefit the poorest of the poor. Not quite as the quibbles now are about the definition of the (ill) famed creamy layer that needs to be excluded. Let it be known that it has gone from 250 000 to 450 000 rupees per annum and is likely to be increased to 600 000! That means that a salary of 49 000 per month would ensure your child a seat in the OBC quota! So these reservations are not for the poor, far from that. In my humble opinion someone earning that amount can give his child a sound education enabling her to compete at par with others. But who cares for the poor?

This is the land we live in.

I for one will never give up on this land!

TV’s prodigal child is three episodes old. I am talking of SJ hosted by a leading film star. I must admit that I was taken in by episode 1 as it touched a raw nerve though I did have my reservations. It was a little too glitzy for my liking and sounded a tad false and failed to address the real issues. Post episode 1, I learnt that the anchor was charging a whopping 3.2 crores per episode. I must admit I was saddened and somehow the show lost its charm at least for me. Seemed that social responsibility was the new kid on the business block.

Call it synchronicity but some days later I came upon an article entitle: How My Conscience Was Abducted in Dantewada. In the garb of social responsibility, the Essar Group recently organised a storytelling festival for the ‘benefit’ of children in this Maoist-dense area. What emerged most starkly was the stench of corporate propaganda. The article is written by a story teller invited to tell stories to a bunch of tribal kids in a language they did not understand and who felt his conscience was abducted. The scenario goes something like this-  the protagonists: a corporate in desperate need of a new coat of veneer, an event management company desperate to conjure a sense of celebration in an alien place, hundreds of bewildered children gathered to hear stories in a language they do not understand and a bunch of bored officials present to give the stamp of officialdom; the stage: hurriedly white washed hall with buntings more appropriate to an upmarket literary festival than a story telling for tribal children. The children were made to listen to corporate  propaganda and incomprehensible stories, feat made harder by the pangs of hunger as the organisers has miscalculated the numbers. Pictures were taken to adorn the CSR pages of websites and publications, a huge budget was earmarked for those in power to spend. All in a all a success except for the children who still did not quite fathom what was happening. The question that begs to be asked is: is such a farce needed? My answer is a big NO! Such efforts are to my mind pathetic and revolting. Corporate Social Responsibility at best eases some consciences, makes good photo ops and lines pockets. The supposed beneficiary is left bewildered and empty handed.

How the receiving side feels was best portrayed by one such recipient. We too have had our own first hand experiences be it the lady from a prestigious club who brought a few sweaters on a hot September morning and her personal photographer in tow. She insisted that the special kids wear the sweaters in spite of the sweltering heat, so that she could have a photograph for the newsletter of her club! Or how can I forget the man who in response to our appeal for help for Raju’s open heart surgery wanted to know why we were spending so much money for just a poor child. Charity has become a lucrative business.

On the other hand, call it synchronicity again, I stumbled upon another TV show called the  Secret Millionaire. True it is what is now called a reality show – the flavour of our times – but it rings true. The blurb of the show states: Millionaire benefactors say goodbye to their luxury lifestyles and go undercover in deprived areas to find out who needs their help. I was impressed by the part of the show I saw, but still a bit cynical and weary of reality shows I decided to catch a few more. It was truly inspiring. A millionaire spends 9 days in a destitute area to look for causes he may fund. It is bye bye credit cards and fat wallets. The protagonist is meant to survive on the minimum wage, often in a decrepit flat a far cry from his luxurious abode. He has to cook – or buy street food -, wash, clean and above all  find organisations worthy of his help. To achieve this he talks to people in pubs and other places and once he has a list of organisations he goes on to volunteer in them. This enables him to assess the real situation. At the end of his 9 days he reveals his identity and makes his donations.To justify the presence of cameras, people are told that a documentary is being shot to highlight the issues of the community. The show looks real and touches the heart. The millionaire is often shown coming back to the area weeks later to reconnect with those he helped. I must admit I too had a lump in my throat. If it is all scripted then it was a darned good job!

I could not help remembering a reality show that professed to get rich young Indians brats to experience life in a slum. Now one would think that they would live in an actual slum. Far from that. In line with the Big Brother set, a ‘slum’ was created for them.I remember watching one episode where the kids were in a large room with beds (I presume harder than the ones they were used to) and fans (no ACs). This was a bizarre depiction of slums as I know them. Wonder if any of those kids could have survived in Radha’s home which is a hole in the ground, about 12 square feet, with an asbestos roof and mud floor. In that ‘hole’ live 4 adults and 4 children. One must not forget that little Radha suffers from brittle bone disease.

 I also wonder if any of our millionaires would agree to give up their comfortable lives and spend even one night if not in a slum, let us say in the likes of a DDA Jantadesi version of the Secret Millionaire. I guess production houses knew it was doomed to fail as they would find no millionaires willing to participate. I guess we have some more growing up to do. Our rich are more comfortable with the CRS version of charity that does not entail dirtying one’s hand and is a perfect way to ease consciences.

Mea culpa, mea culpa, mea maxima culpa! For the past weeks I have been writing about issues that irk me and in the bargain have completely obliterated the essential: the essential being project why! I guess I was stricken by a bout of the comfort zone syndrome: in this occurrence the fact that all is always well at project why. So April passed and I failed to mention the stunning results of our kids and then May came and went and with it the dreaded Board exam results. This was before Internet days, when pwhy teachers went to schools to check the lists and I waited cellphone in hand! The whoops of joy and oodles of sweets that followed were indeed ah ha moments. Then year after year all our students passed and slowly the dangerous comfort zone took over. I have no option but the proverbial kick myself in the butt!

So here I am with egg on my face trying to make amends. The kids have never let us down be they in class I or XII. It is their ageing Ma’am who is at fault. Time to redress the tort. So without more delay I am thrilled to share with all of you the achievements of the project why family.

Let us begin with our Okhla centre. All the children primary and secondary have passed their examinations. That means a whopping 260 kids! What is truly brilliant is that this year we had our first batch of class X and they ALL passed their Board exam. Akeel even topped his class. And Pooja and Brijesh topped class VI and little Sapna topped class1!. Now this may seem no great shakes to some. However if I were to tell you that our Okhla centre is located in a garbage dump, the closest primary schools is a kilometer away and the secondary school 5 km away (yes this is in Delhi and next to a new swanky five star hotels, that there are no NGOs in the area, that parents are often working long hours in factories and care very little if not at all for their children’s education. The children are left to their own devices.

That is why we had decided to start a centre in this godforsaken area way back in 2005 even if it meant clearing up space in a garbage dump. I remember having paid for 3 or 4 trucks earth from my own pocket as finances were short then and how could one explain to our donors the sudden need for tons of earth. We were meant to be an education organisation were we not! What had prompted me to do so was the fact that children in that god forsaken dump were being used by mafias and politicos to fulfil sinister agendas. Okhla was not easy to set up. Our ‘school’ then a shack with a bright blue plastic sheet held up by bamboos was regularly destroyed and doggedly rebuilt by our valiant staff. But slowly things settled and we could put up walls, then a tin roof, then an extra room and thus have a primary, secondary and even a computer section. We were in business and our best supporters where the children themselves as they soon took ownership of their school. They are the ones who demanded a secondary section when the first batch reached class VI and insisted on  computer having computer classes. When we meekly suggested that computers may not be safe in the centre they loudly retorted that they would make sure that nothing happened. And in spite of conditions that no insurance company would ever agree to – a rickety door, walls that would collapse were they pushed – they children kept their promise. Today the computer centre located in a tiny space is the only one in the entire area and a great success. What a way we have come. I had almost forgotten this.

Now on to our Govindpuri centre which began only 2 years ago after we had to close down Sanjay Colony and Nehru Camp. From a mere 30 students we now have 104 and from a primary outreach programme we almost surreptitiously mutated into a secondary one as we now have classes VI and VII. One of the biggest USP of this class is that Anita, one of our teachers is a project why alumni. She joined us in nursery way back in 2000! And now for the results: a whopping 17 kids stood first in their respective classes with Saifin even getting a scholarship. Kudos to all.

Now let us get to the famous Boards classes X and XII. All our students passed: 28 cleared their Xth and 12 their XIth. In class X Pooja secured 87.3% and in class XII Akansha topped with 95%! Wow! Well done girl!

At the women centre all children passed their examinations. That means 298 kids in all and we had nine toppers. Not bad at all. This year we will be having our first class X batch. Fingers crossed. But that is not all, our women have not done badly at all. The sewing and beautician classes are also bearing their fruits. 3 students have opened their own beauty parlours, 2 in their villages and one in the nearby slum. 9 women work door to door and 2 have secured jobs in beauty parlours. Most of our sewing ladies work from home but 9 of them have got jobs in boutiques and export houses.

So you see there are many stars at project why. Time to get our very own red carpet!

Let me ask you a riddle. What is the government budgetary allocation for a mental patient? You would never guess! Its is thirteen rupees a year! Yes13 rupees a year is the budgetary allocation for a mental health patient in India. This startling and absurd statistic was revealed in a heart wrenching article entitled Damned lives and Statistics. I urge you to read it. You will be stunned beyond words. But let me share some stats: there are 100 million people in India who suffer from some form of mental illness. Of these 10 million need hospitalisation. There are only 43 government mental hospitals all in a pitiable state. There are only 4000 psychiatrists and 70% of them work in the private sector in urban areas. I leave you to do the maths and work out the absurd and nonsensical figures.

It does not stop there. Here is another riddle. How do the state run mental hospitals deal with body lice? Answer: they strip the patient and spray her with insecticides meant to kill cockroaches. The conditions of mental hospitals are indescribable. Any adjective I can think falls short of the reality. Patients live in inhuman and jail like conditions, locked in hot and dark cells, with stinking toilets and unpalatable food. In some institutions they are even fettered.  Some cosmetic changes have been done and the exterior may look nice, but inside it is a living hell. And to crown it all funds that come to the hospital for food, clothing and mattresses are siphoned off by the officials. They even take home the bedspreads and curtains. A horror story but sadly a real one.

Mental patients need care and understanding. They need therapies and counselling. They need enabling environments to help them heal and reintegrate normal life. In the conditions prevalent today they are sure to wither away.

The alternatives are no better. Many mental patients are taken to faith healers. They are chained, caned, smeared with chili or branded with hot coins. All this to exorcise the demon believed to possess them. In some cases they are dumped by families in faraway places in illegal asylums where they are abused and tortured and even used in organ trading. And yet most of these poor souls can be treated with proper medication and psychological support. The fact that the state does not care for them is criminal to say the least.

Private psychiatric care is exorbitant and only a few can afford it. Some of the institutions can cost up to 5000 rs a day. This is where the rich dump their addict child who has become an embarrassment! For them a lac fifty thousand is chicken feed I guess. For those who do not have the money the options are few. I was horrified when a friend told me the story of a disabled woman who had been hidden by her family till the day she died. My friend lives in a posh colony in Delhi and this poor woman lived in the house opposite hers. She had never known that her neighbours had a disabled relative.

Mental patients may need hospitalisation and treatment but this is only short term in most cases and the patient can easily get back to normal life. I recently had to admit a student in a psychiatric facility – one of the only place that is affordable – and was shocked to hear that many patients were simply abandoned by their families and had spent not months but years away from their homes in spite of being cured. This how much we care for our very own if they happen to be mentally challenged.

But even those who care deeply for their challenged ones face huge problems.I recently bumped into a friend who has a 17 year old autistic son. She is an ace parent and has done everything she could and more for her child. Now the boy turns 18 next year and the institution where he studies does not take children after their eighteenth birthday. Now my friend knows that this young man cannot spend the rest of his life at home and needs to be in an enabling environment which will allow him to progress. Sadly there are very few options and long waiting lists. She is a working woman and needs to find a solution. She candidly asked whether I would open a day care centre for people like her son. I wish I could!

The article and the words of my friend stirred many thoughts that I had been trying to shut off. What would happen to my bunch of challenged souls. Planet Why fell off the map. And yet Planet Why was what would have kept the Munnas and Radhas, the Anjalis and Champas smiling all the way to their golden years. Now their morrows are tenuous and depend on my ability to secure them. I cannot begin to imagine any one of them in a state run facility or rejected by their families. It cannot happen. I pray for a miracle and hold on to the Planet Why dream. Will someone hear my silent prayer.

The latest buzz across the country seems to be Bollywood star Amir Khan’s latest talk show Satyamev Jayate. The first episode titled daughters are precious took on the issue of female foeticide. I guess it was, as many have held, a safe bet. Female feticide is an issue that does move one and all, or so one would want to believe. At least the programme would get women on his side! I did not watch the show when it was aired but saw it on line. Though one got to know some startling facts the most shocking one being that female infanticide was started as a government scheme in the 1970s, during the population explosion in India, the show failed to move me. I for one do not get starry eyed in front of super stars! True we were treated to all the pathos imaginable: heart wrenching stories of women who had born the brunt of the terrible practice, even a woman who had been bitten repeatedly by her husband, startling statistics, bits and pieces of sting operations and needless to say the tears shed by both the audience and the anchor.

The entire show was, unfortunately aimed at bashing different sections of the population: the perpetrators be it the family or the medical practitioners, the indifferent or even collusive  administration, the antagonistic judge and so on. Each story was accompanied by the required exclamations of surprise or horror. We were also introduced by satellite link to a bunch of almost middle age lads from a village in a state known for its skewed sex ratio who merrily informed us that they were bachelors for want of women to marry. The motley band seemed more kicked by being on a reality show then by the seriousness of the issue. But some interviews with local activists brought us back on course as they shared statistics, the practise of bride import and above all the terrible plight of these ‘foreign’ women that scarily resembled the plight of the young protagonist of Matrubhoomi who is married to one but shared by all brothers in a terrifying reinterpretation of the Mahabharat. What is scary is that a film set in 2050 tells the story of what is happening today! It is a must watch!

The show did have its required effect if we are to believe the hundreds of thousands of SMSses. The pulse of the India audience was tickled pink as the show was high on emotional drama. And the aftermath was expected with Amir Khan being labelled the India Oprah (sic) and satyamev jayate a movement! A little OTT in my humble opinion. The show ended with a pledge to take up the issue of female foeticide in the state where a sting operation had been undertaken against doctors who are a party to sex determination. At the time of writing these words the Bollywood star had met the political one to set things right. I presume it means booking the medical perpetrators caught on camera.

But let me get back on track as this post is not meant to be an eulogy or attack of the new kid on the TV block. What prompted me to write this post was to share my take on the abhorrent practice of female foeticide and my humble suggestions. Bashing anyone will not stop female foeticide. Dredging facts and figures will again not get anyone to change mindsets. Appeals and projects to ‘save the girl child’ have and will remain unheard. Th bottom line is quite different and the question one has to ask one’s self is why are girls unwanted. The answer is simple: they are a financial burden mostly because of exorbitant marriages. Reason gets clouded by the burden of costly nuptials. All else is forgotten. That they are potential wives, mothers strangely becomes secondary. And to make matter worse, by some absurd interpretation of scientific laws, sex determination gets reinterpreted to suit a patriarchal society and the woman is made to bear the unfair and unsubstantiated burden of being responsible for ‘making’ girls. A girl is unwanted in our land but there is also another side to this dark coin: the same girl, if she survives and gets married will be punished in all sorts of manner if she gives birth to a girl. In India across the social board it is believed that women determine the sex of the child. The show’s anchor did make a en passant remark on sex determination but it was lost in emotion.

So let us try and take it from the top. We in India  a country where women are worshipped as Goddesses by one and all do not want to have daughters. Seems strange doesn’t it? Yet we, rich or poor, literate or illiterate, dislike daughters so much that we are prepared to kill them in the womb, throw them in drains and rubbish bins, leave them in hospitals or dump them in the cradle of orphanages, and even kill them. We punish there mothers in every way imaginable from subtle taunts to murder. If we do decide to raise them, we give them minimum care: less food then their brothers, less medical care, cheaper of no education. From the time a girl child is born she is labelled paraya dhan

So it all points out to two issues: the marriage expenses and the sex determination. One is social, the other scientific. And the need of the moment is to address the two in an empowering manner. True that many want a boy in a patriarchal society boys are preferred and there is always the matter of carrying on the name etc. Quite frankly it works with kings and nobles but how important it is in a family that can barely survive is a matter of opinion. But the sense of false pride remains and is evident in the way the birth of a son is celebrated in the poorest of homes. The girl on the other hand is often welcome by wails and long faces.

To set things right it is important to try and free the woman from the weighty and unfair burden of being held responsible for the sex of the child. The XY chromosome story needs to be told. It needs to be told to one and all in wide ranging campaigns on the scale of family planning ones and polio eradication ones. I personally feel that it should be told in a way that empowers men. Wow how great you guys are, you have the power to decide the sex of the child. You must take ownership of this scientific reality, this gift God has given you, what incredible power. You get the picture. What I am trying to say that one must package the message the right way. I am sure that it will change some mindsets and at least free women from unjust and cruel abuse and maybe even give daughter a better deal.

But we still need to address the dowry issue as it all boils down to money. We all knows that laws have failed and even if some have been punished the practise of dowry is alive and kicking. True people have the right to spend their money on weddings and nuptials but the problem occurs when you are made to spend money you do not have. The problem arises when boys are commodities the girls’ families have to pay for in cash and kind, where it becomes of matter of honour, negotiations and brokering. Many will say it is an infernal spiral you take for your son and pay for your daughter. All this is nothing short of repulsive but so ingrained in social mores that changing the equation will take time and patience.

Today, dowry have lost their relevance. Girls are educated and have equal inheritance rights. They are assets to the family they marry in and should be considered as such. What shocks me is that the young and educated are party to this inane custom. They should be the ones to herald change by putting their foot down and insist on simple weddings. But marriages have become showtime. It is OK for those who have the required resources but for others it is a millstone around their neck. It is time religious preachers who appear on TV channels and have and blind followers take up such issues instead of preaching superstitious rubbish. It almost makes me want to don saffron robes! These are people who have the power to bring about change and yet they do not. They are busy perpetrating customs that enrich them by robbing the vulnerable.

Project Y (excuse the pun) has to be launched. I wish I had the resources, the contacts and the capability of doing it. Women have suffered too long, it is time they got their rightful place in society.

Saffin is a student of class VI at our Govindpuri centre. He is a quiet and hard working lad with many hidden talents. Believe it or not he writes poetry and had three of his poems published in his school magazine. Two were in Hindi but one was in English. I share it with you: