I wonder..........

My day starts very early. It was even earlier today; being a pious day. Mom told me it was a full-moon today, Kartik purnima. This day we are supposed to go to Ganga maiya (River Ganges) and take the holy dip. I have been feeling very cold lately and shivering at nights too. Perhaps I would be spared from dip in cold waters of Ganga; thinking such I approached my mother. “How can you even think like that; it is up to the women in the house to keep the religious tradition alive. Just one dip is going to wash away all your sins! Look at your grandmother and look at you. Shame on you!” came the reply. My 70 year old grandmother was fighting with my father to take her to Ganges for a dip. She has been on bed for many years now; and somehow has stopped growing older even. My mind kept running with thoughts that what sins have I done to wash away in Ganges? May be my grandmother needs the dip more than me.

Anyways after the dip I was allowed to eat; not the usual vegetable and roti but a special dish made of rice and gur (jagerry). As my younger brothers eat it with interest; I cant help but wonder whether we would be able to eat at night or not. It has happened earlier this year too, when on chatt we had to pray to Sun god offering him a lot of sweet dishes and fruits (wow! That’s the only time we eat fruits). It was only after my mother stood in water fasting whole day that we ate. Why did she do that? Because her religion wants only her to do so. I wonder why?

We completely enjoyed ourselves that day; but the whole family had to go without food for the next three days. My grandmother tells me life is ephemeral in nature; enjoy today, do not think about tomorrow. But I wonder how sensible is it eat today and not tomorrow? This way we would remain poor all our lives!

Sitting at my doorstep, all my hair wet; I look at storms of people passing by. All have taken their holy dip and returning to their houses. What surprises me is that there were hardly any cars present at the Ghat. Only poor could be seen everywhere. Do the rich not celebrate this? It is a festival of poor, when the ones who can afford such a luxury are spared from it. I kept on wondering…..

Orange sindur (sign of a married lady) right from the nose till deep into the hair makes me giggle. The women almost look like Orangutans right out of the jungle. Do they actually feel they look good in it or they just have to follow it because their mothers did it too?  Again the tradition comes up here!

Recently I came to know that the guy who lived 3 houses down the lane was a criminal! Do you know how? Police had come to his house yesterday. His mother and wife were abused! Then his wife was taken to Police station for the night. She came home next day, looking horrified. Her hair was disheveled and even her clothes were torn. The reason she was taken because her husband has committed a murder; she kept on blaming herself for that. But I wonder if a person has absconded from home and committed a murder; what sensitivity would he have about his wife being tortured?   

Why is that all the women are the final victims? Of traditions and of cruelty? Who would break this chain, when we ourselves feel that we are responsible for such acts of others? If we feel tradition is our burden, who would like to lift it off our shoulders? I keep wondering as my grandmother waits for the next Kartik purnima for the dip in the Ganges!     

Interviews!

Interviews have always been dreaded by me. His twin brother at school level; Science vivas have also evoked great fear in me. The stern look of the External (examiner) had such an effect that I was almost paralyzed every time. Now after many years, here I sit at the other side of the table.  I can’t help but wonder how hideous I would be seeming to the interviewee today!

As you enter the room and face the interview panel, comes the most difficult question in the wrap of being the most easiest one…………”Aur apne bare main kuch batai” (Tell us something about you). When we were hiring trainers for our project, here is what my interviewees told me about them…….

Panel: “You are very young, not even completed your Graduation; how do you think you would convince people during training sessions?”

Interviewee 1: “Its not about study, its about knowledge. When I have knowledge better than my participants, I would be respected. You train me and I would work as best as I can.”

I could not help but admire the confidence of this young ‘not even Graduate’ girl who left all of us amused!

Interviewee 2: “………we are 7 sisters; 6 are married. We lost our father and mother very early. Everyone wants me to get married and settle in life; but I want to work first. Stand on my own feet and be responsible for myself.”

Panel: “Your CV has great experience in corporate sector but absolutely no experience in social sector. Why is that you want to switch to this?”

Interviewee 3:“I agree I have no experience, but I am a woman! I can understand maternal health better than any of you. I want an experience like this……..”

When I got such bold answers in a row, I had to sit back for a while and think that woman is no longer a shy bride in Bihar. She is ready to take everyone with a storm today. A common cause (a factor actually) of maternal deaths that we came across during the interview was marriage before legal age. The answer was prevalent in all age groups and both the sex. This surely means that we have woken up to the ill effects of an early marriage.

With a lot of noise from the waiting room, we had to ask our Program assistant to hush them up!

Boss: “Kyu itna shor ho ra hai?”

PA: “Sir, Mahilayen hai na interviewee….jahan 2 mahilayen ho, shor to hoga hi J”

And my colleagues give me a sly smile and go to the next interviewee when I jokingly fume at the comment!

Apart from making me feel proud of women empowerment in our conservative society, the interview gave us many reasons to smile too! Our same old question, “Aur apne bare main kuch batai” (Tell us something about you), tickled our funny bone:

Interviewee 4:“Apne bare main sir? Sir resume to mera hai hi aapke paas…….. (About myself? Well you already have my CV)

Interviewee 5: My name is Virender Prasad, my village is parva tola, my block is Dulhin Baazar and my Thana is also Dulhin bazaar. (And that ends the introduction he has for himself!)

Panel: Why did you stop working in between?

Interviewee 6: Ji? Maa off ho gyi hai (My mother passed away)……. Well, I am sorry to laugh on that, but Off gyi thi?

Some random people also turned up who were not called prior for the interview. One of them entered into the room as we were about to wrap up the interview sessions for the day.

“Excuse me Sir, Main Devanand hun…..” To which my Boss’s reaction was a real classic” …..to baithiye main kya aapko Nargis dikh ra hu jo itna muskura rahe hain?” We could not stop laughing for a good 5 minutes.

We have at this job become accustomed to take interviews and identify ‘our’ kind of people now! As the day comes to an end, I realize three clear categories of interviewees. One, ‘Just for the interview’ types. This category has not yet completed their education; or working somewhere already coming to ‘just have an idea’ what the vacancy is all about! Second, ‘Trial at the Job’ types Housewives who are well educated and want to utilize their time in part-time jobs. They are here for trials!

And the last one, ‘I will do the job’ who is ‘our person’ (I purposefully omitted ‘our man’!) He/She would accept all the terms and commit to work. But ultimately what the selection turns out to be is the test of time!

From a Mother’s kitchen….

Being a mother isn’t easy! I am NOT talking about the 9 hard months of pregnancy, (of course they are really tough too) but the post-delivery effects; when your kids are beyond that ‘Cerelac’ age.

With two kids, Jassi, age 8 and Harry age 5, I had a rough time, especially in kitchen! One would want South Indian all the time, whereas other would be happy only with a Burger! There was only one thing in common-both used to make faces looking at the greens. Even I was not an easy mother to them; after all I had to make sure my children ate right. Thus, every meal time turned out to be a battlefield. That was when I started to prepare innovative dishes.

From putting all green vegetables like lauki, tori, tinda etc in home-made Pav-Bhaji (Mumbai Street food) to putting a good mix of vegetables in Sambhar (South Indian Curry), I tried a variety of dishes. But their fight of ‘South Indo-Western’ remained then and there. I had to always make separate dish for the other when South Indian was the menu.

On one such taxing day, when I was done preparing batter for Dosa, my younger one strolled into the kitchen. Looking at the South Indian menu for dinner, rude words were exchanged; “You don’t love me, why do you keep making this!” Before I could pacify him with my words, angrily he stormed out of kitchen, and I ended up feeling sorry for him.

Finally I opened the refrigerator to make something else for him, when my eyes fell on eggs lying in the basket. Something stuck me! I picked out some carrots, cabbage, capsicum and onions. Cutting them into small pieces, I sautéed them in a little oil. Then I put some batter of Dosa onto a hot non-stick pan. When one side of the Dosa was done; I broke an egg on it. Turning the Dosa on the pan, I allowed the egg to cook well. Then I spread some sauce on the Egg-Dosa; put the vegetables in it and rolled it up. Voila Egg-Dosa Roll was ready! And it was full of vegetables. Finally I could also resolve the problem of varied tastes of my kids all at one time; one having Dosa and the other loving Egg-Dosa Roll. Try out friends its Easy, Tasty and Healthy!     

Lesser evil?

After a long overbearing period of pregnancy, when the ‘result’ turned out to be a girl, the family was overjoyed! Yes you read it right, overjoyed! You may not believe this as an incident of a village in India, but it is. When the birth of a girl child is celebrated because she would turn out to be a bread winner for the family; her brothers and father! Baffling isn’t it? It isn’t westernization of thoughts; it’s a story about a village where flesh trade is a tradition-a Riwaaz!

The young nubile girl is well taken care of. She is given the choicest of gifts and allowed all kinds of indulgence except love! Love isn’t permitted! This is because Love would bring thoughts about marriage in her mind and in turn would end their source of income. When she becomes old to get any ‘customers’, she marries and waits for another girl to be born; who would take care of them.

The first time she is ‘inaugurated’, it is almost like reverence. The highest bidder gets to bed the virgin. She is decorated like a bride with complete haldi-rasam (a tradition of putting turmeric on the bride’s body for a glowing skin.) Prayers are offered at the temple, lamps lit and she is escorted to the house of her ‘husband for the night’. This tradition is still alive in many remote areas of India; where birth of girls is incidentally rejoiced!

Rest of the India is an exact opposite story (for good or worse, who knows!) Killing of infants just born by dipping her in milk, has been common news in Rajasthan lately; parents fearful of a huge sum of dowry to be paid when she would get married. When a well behind a nursing home in Patiala was found full of female fetuses; the worst face of a human came into picture. The so called advanced state of India, Punjab has the worst sex ratio. What has education or economy to do with such a mentality?

When I was born, my family members distributed sweets in the complete maternity ward. Nurses were scared about miscommunication and finally had to gather the courage to come up to my father and ask him “It’s a girl, didn’t anyone tell you that?” When we women still behave like that, what do we expect of men?

The reasons of population explosion we witness in states like Bihar and Jharkhand too needs to be looked into seriously. “I would agree to operation only when I have two sons, who knows when this one might die”, said a young mother who was holding a boy child of 4 months; she already has 3 elder daughters. Maximum torture tales of daughter-in-laws are written; executed by mother-in-laws and sister-in-laws. What do we derive?

Women have been subjected to oppression since a long time now; because we have been accepting it as a way of our life. We have been quiet about it. The silence has to be broken because it holds back a whole new beginning. The unheard have to be heard, because there will never be a tomorrow.

Finally, who is the worst enemy of women? Our age old traditions, our mindset or our silence?   

What we have endured has stretched too far now! Be it in any form, evil has been done against women, just thinking about which is a lesser evil? Killing the girl child immediately after birth due to traditions of dowry or making her a bread earner with a tradition of flesh trade! Thoughts anyone?  

A dream come true..............

Of unending rains, and mighty stains!

Cups of tea looking at a pile of clothes; oh poor me!

Are my prayers heard? Can someone actually hear me?

“Ding dong! Your prayers are heard………..Surf Excel Matic is here! It cleans the stains smartly, while you spend your precious time with your family!” Hearing this commercial on TV, my curiosity arose. I usually go into sleep mode when such advertisements play on TV in between the shows. But here actually seemed an answer to my long time request sent to God. (May be God gave the contract to fulfill the request to Surf Excel Matic!)

Ever since my childhood, washing clothes has been a routine fixed for Sundays! Watching my mom juggling from kitchen to bathroom every Sunday was usual for us, as we sat in front of the television watching our favourite cartoon shows (Even then we were not spared of commercial breaks!). Being a working woman, washing clothes was a hectic full time job for her. We decided to ease her labour by getting a brand new ‘intelligent washing machine’ but to no use. She continued to stop the machine in between; rub the hard stains with her hands and be occupied on all Sundays! We could not even go out for our favourite round of ice-creams as she used to be so tired till the evening.

Time passed and I came in the category of ‘working’; staying away from home. From the basics of buying groceries to cooking food has to be done all by myself! And on top of that, washing clothes had become a headache for me! Being single still has advantages that I have only my set of clothes to wash; still Sundays used to go in that routine!

Then came Magic; oops, Matic in my life! And here I am a free bird today! All I have to do is load my dirty clothes in the washing machine (Another intelligent one; though I know that hardly works!) and forget about them! It really works.

Now, Sundays are ‘My Days” and not days for washing clothes. The childhood rule has been re-written! Next thing, I am going to gift my Mom is of course Surf Excel Matic!

Sitting calmly on my cushion bed, I can be online even when my clothes are being cleaned; just right for those stubborn stains! I remember that line well, “Daag ache hain”. I could never imagine such pleasure while my clothes were washed since standing at the edge of washing machine and watching the knob had become my habit! Now I find all the time to catch up with my friends on Facebook. All the restaurant waiters are getting to know me well. My long due ‘to read’ list is getting slowly read. Earlier I used to think about stories while washing clothes and they used to rinse away from my mind as soon as the clothes did! This doesn’t happen now!

And I can blog more now. Why do you think I could spot this contest? Had I stuck to my old detergent I would still have been washing clothes this Sunday!     

Hues of the city of Joy (Part-2)

“Dear Brothers and Sisters……….” Vivekananda’s salutation to his audience in US speaks volumes about his concept of ‘One World’. The foundation of the modern concept of communication as “Global Village” was conceived then and there.

In the colour of mud, the real colour of India; stands a magnificent structure wrapped in a peaceful atmosphere of prayers. Monks are seen all over the place; many in saffron, few in white! They were ‘Brahmacharis’, white had to observe mental and physical Brahmacharya for 12 long years to turn to saffron!

A journey down the lane was shared by a saffron monk. 1987 was when he ran and came to the math. His parents didn’t want him to join the mission and came to take him back. He went back, paid obeisance to all and joined the math on Buddha purnima!

Me: “Don’t you have any duty towards your parents?”

He: “I do and I realize that! I call up my Mom and listen to her woes. In the end, she wraps up and says you are following a great path, continue don’t worry about us”.

Me: “Why not marry, build a home and lead a life through the path of peace; that achieves salvation too? Then, why Brahmacharya?”

He: “Yes it does! Many saints have also thought like that. Brining your senses in your control, but it isn’t easy always like that. We have to conserve energy to unify it in one direction, my direction is salvation. That’s the reason for Brahmacharya.”

Me: “Do you think studying the Vedas would help more or doing service to Humanity would?”

He: “Well when we invite others for food, we need to serve all different dishes in different pots! Only one dish would not suffice. Similarly, in this world, only working in one sphere let it be studying sculptures, praying to God or service of humanity is not enough. Each pot has to be filled as per one’s own capabilities and passion. All work towards the same destination, but on different paths.”

With this view, Ramakrishna Mission was established by Swami Vivekananda on 1 May, 1897 with head quarters in Belur Math, Howrah (Wow, visited the best!) to take the work and thoughts of his guru forward. It runs many projects on livelihood promotion, health, schools apart from study of Vedas.

“No one can be truly free until all of us are. Even desire for personal salvation has to be given up-only tireless work for salvation of others is the true mark of an enlightened person” was the powerful speech of the orange monk, Swami Vivekananda. From the time of Raja Ram Mohan Roy to Rabindra Nath Tagore, all led to a powerful change-Bengal Renaissance. It was a unique blend of religious and social reform in Bengal; science and revolution bringing change all at the same time. Jagdish Chandra Bose came up with plant science; and was known as father of radio-waves whereas Subash Chandra Bose brought everyone back to life with his Azad Hind Fauj. Such a varied range of changes in the society literally made Bengal as a learning center!

    

On the entrance of the building sits a peacock encircled by a snake; with majestic elephants on both sides. It spoke to me of harmony between enemies as the most powerful of assets (Elephant being the symbol of power). It has the architectural features of Mosque, Hindu temple, Buddhist cave and a Christian church; all religions at one place. The main temple stands high with strong marble pillars on both sides of the hall. Hanging lamps glowing between two pillars give an unearthly aura. There were three chandeliers in the hall-simple yet elegant! The shadow of chandeliers is seen on the roof and the shadow is much longer! Once we lit up something small, shadow would always grow larger; things would magnify slowly! Only that first fire has to be lit……..

Music vibrates in the hall as the aarti begins; saffrons and whites sing together. Oil lamps lit the plate to do aarti of the statue of Ramakrishna Paramhans (I didn’t know he was even worshipped like this!) and tabla, sarangi, chimti and violin. I didn’t know what they sang; not the language nor the words! But something in me arose! Somehow the concept of aarti of a statue is what I can’t still digest! How many Gods can we keep on making out of mortals! My God is within; speaks to me on wrong and right. So, let me just go back and listen intently.           

Assaulted!!!

Sitting at the back seat, chirping happily on the way back from school 10 year old Rohini pleaded to ride the bicycle. Her escort, 16 year old Ajay allowed her to do so. Just then she felt his hand caressing her. She immediately lost her balance and fell. Badly bruised, crying she reached back home. She never rode with him to school after that incident.

It was late one evening. Rohini was pedaling furiously to get back home from tuitions before it begins to rain. It was her 10^th board exam the very next day. At the lonely turn on the road, another bicycle crossed her. A hand hit her on the breast with giggling following it. She dared not turn; heavy with tears managed to reach home with a pain in her heart.

It was Diwali. The whole house was lit like a marriage palace. A flood of relatives had come over the home. Rohini was serving around the eats and drinks to the guests. A hand held hers while handling over a glass of sharbat. She eyed him questioningly. It was her own uncle, her mother’s sister’s husband. Later that night, he tried to touch her again while crossing by her. She broke a complete set of glasses and ended up spending the Diwali night crying all by herself locked up in her room.

What are all these tears worth? Would it ever make any difference to the eve-teaser? Our minds have been raped! Relative, neighbor or stranger; all have been equally unworthy of trust to Rohini. May be Rohini resides in all of us. It isn’t about physical but mental abuse. It’s about the broken trust of a human being; its being helpless!

Rape is a scary word. It’s not even limited to women. A recent article about sexual abuse among war victims is a real eye opener. About 80% women were abused among refugees at a camp in South Africa whereas all the men were abused! It crosses the lines of humanity and shatters the dignity of a human being. The abused starts feeling ‘dirty’ about oneself! What is the root cause of this?

A few years back when sexual health was proposed to be introduced in school curriculum, there was a huge hue and cry. ‘It would degrade the minds of our children’ parents said.

It is as if thinking that the promotion of condoms will instigate people to have sex! The scarcity of knowledge about opposite sex and reproductive organs is what leads to making of pervert minds in the society. Remember our biology classes, where automatically we used to separate out in ‘girls’ and ‘boys’ group. Many of us ended up bunking the classes to escape the awkwardness to study about ‘such’ a thing together!

Health and Physical Education, a subject introduced by NCERT which aimed at looking at the health and hygiene aspects in school was degraded from a ‘compulsory subject to less important than the core subjects’. Before the policy changes result at a higher level, we all can contribute at our levels. The only time we can shape the mind is when it is young, once we loose that opportunity it’s very difficult to re-design the dried mud-pot. The time should not slip away to make it a better, safer and respectful world.          

How Brutal are we?

Day’s hard labour has brought the night’s supper. Pots are put to boil and family members are gathering around the fire to talk about ‘small nothings’. Elders are cajoling children to come back home after play and themselves retiring on their cots!’

This is just when the silence of the night is broken by a loud scream from one of the houses. The shrill heart rendering scream marks a cold blooded-murder. A huge sword was still quenching its thirst when a small crowd gathered around the house. Then the massacre began! In just about 20 minutes, the complete Dalit tola of Aandhari village was turned to a graveyard. A total of 150 people who lived in the tola were killed; all beheaded. None was spared except for a thin girl who had climbed a tree escaping the eyes of the slaughterers. Later on, she identified the murderers as Rajputs of the neighboring village who had a feud on the use of near by temple by Dalits. It was the year 1997 in Bhojpur district of Bihar. How brutal was that?

 A young woman was burnt alive. She was put kerosene on and lit on fire. One could see her running across the fields burning at the same time; none had the courage to save her. After all she had wronged her husband by not bringing any dowry! The incident occurred in Itarhi village of Buxar district of Bihar way back in 2002. Is that brutal?

It is not a thing of past still! During my visit I came across an AWW who had a deformed face. She was chatting happily when her husband entered the scene. He was drunk in broad day-light and abusing her at the top of his voice. She hushed him in the house and resumed her talk. ‘I won’t have been alive if I would not have been working as AWW. He would have cut me into pieces and thrown me into Soan river!’ Do any of us even consider it brutal?

Traveling back from work one day, I am privileged to have company of a lady who has by all means survived this Barbaric age. She has not only survived it; but has continued to work in such extreme areas as supervisor in ICDS system. Her profile related to interacting with people in the villages who were extremists in all true senses. ‘They would touch my feet when I helped them but not even think for a second before splitting your throat open! ‘The society was such, there was no regulation of any sort’ she tells me. ‘People become as they see around themselves. If we experience violence all around us; it is not very difficult to adopt the same way even by a child’. The dark-age as we call it has now passed, but has the violence ended?

Apart from cases of eve-teasing, rapes, physical assault, mental assault, another demon is eating up our society-Corruption. Don’t worry I am not going into the right or wrong of Anna Hazare’s movement; I am just quoting that it took such a big shape since we all realize that it is a ‘common problem’ of us all. Corruption’s root lies in greed. Greed instigates us to do something which is not moral; it is eternal violence. Such a thing (Greed) can thus only be outcome of a violent mind!

As told by Gautam Buddha, ‘Doing violence is not violence, thinking violence is violence’. Primitive man was barbaric too but he killed only for his needs; today we kill since we can’t control ourselves. We have just modified our way of doing violence; we create violence in minds now! So how brutal are we today?

Hues of the city of Joy! (Part-1)

Sandes, Naru and Mishti Dahi……a paradise for sweet lovers-Bengal! The name of the place comes from being situated just next to Bay of Bengal. Just the name of the place brings all the sweetness in my mouth…aah!

First thing that stuck me in the capital was the bright yellow cabs! They were all over the place with taxi drivers trying to woo the travelers. Here I noticed a very queer custom. There was this yellow line outside the station; all taxi drivers stood at ‘THE’ line. None of them crossed the line; all followed the unspoken law; unlike the taxi drivers in Delhi! 

It was early morning and the weather a slightly chill. The taxi glided on the road and I got the first few glances of the beautiful city of Joy!

When I was just 11 years old, there was a chapter in my English book called ‘The Living Saint’. I had dreamt of coming to Kolkotta since then. I wanted to see her walk through her home; dressed so pure in white giving her comforting smile to one and all.

My dream came true; I came to her home (Only difference was that it was Kolkotta not Calcutta now!). Just as I stepped into the room where her tomb was there, I felt a reverence which can be felt only in the house of God! Next stop was Shishu Niketan; where children who were ‘not wanted’ by the society were cared for. Even unwed mothers were given shelter; their baby delivered and cared for as they began a new life at Mother’s doorstep. Playing, No worries in the world; as I looked at these children, I wished to hug each and tell them how special they all were! Stood at a corner, I suddenly realized that a sister was watching me keenly. Her name was Amrit Jose. She was from Jharkhand and had come to the ‘Home’ when she was just 19. Today after 25 years she held the same love and care for all (I told her even my age was not 25 yet!). When I asked her how come she fought the society in a time when women were not strong enough for it? “It was a calling for me; felt as if I was born for it”. Just then a small hand held mine. I looked down to see a beautiful face crying! He tugged me to come along. He wanted to ride a swing and none was allowing him to. As I turned after pacifying him, there was another sound of cry. A girl was sitting on ground; all angry and throwing off her shoes! I was about to pick her shoe when a girl almost her age (even younger) ran to get her shoe back. She then tried to fit the shoe back on her friend’s foot. The girl had only three fingers. These children of the ‘Lesser God’ taught me a valuable lesson that day; love is universal and everyone needs it!

On the roads again we headed for the famous Victoria memorial. Women seated on the front seat of an auto was a common sight on roads. (I remember once an auto vala tell me in Patna, “Madam you may not mind sitting in the front but Bihar is not so advanced till now!”; well may be Kokotta is then!) The building stood all white, polished and breathtaking! The statue of a cupid with a …………..  standing proudly on the highest point of Victoria caught my attention. The sculptures were a delight to my eyes. And to top it with chocolate ice-cream, there was a painting exhibition going on. Collection was from painters from Kalighat, a low lying area of Kolkotta near Ganges. The exhibition gave me an insight into minds of men and women. The essence of domination of men in some and women in others was very amusing as well as creative. ‘Lover as a sheep’ tied with a rope held by a woman, sword in hand with a bowed head in front of a woman, giving attention to a courtesan while the wife suffers in a corner and woman imagining her lover in the mirror were some amazing pieces I saw!

Marble Palace was another marvel in itself. In the midst of huge spacious garden (not well maintained though) stands a structure in pure white. The gatekeeper stopped us and asked if we had the permission to go inside; well the entrance costed us a Rs 10 note! It was a private property, Palace of Maharaja…………..with restricted entrance (surely I don’t mean the gatekeeper incident) and absolutely ‘No Photography Allowed’. We had to wait our turn in a small group where the guide would take us around the palace. But the guide was hardly a guide for a collection like that! The palace was full of magnificent sculptures; all in marble. It was like a mini-Rome! Four seasons-Autumn, Spring, Summer and Winter, Dawn and Night, Continents-Asia, America, Africa had amazing expressions all of women. One particular sculpture on the wall held my attention. It was the size of a black board in middle school used to. Placed right in the centre of the platform (where I was told Kali puja happens every year) this sculpture spoke to me about slaying of women, huge pots and cross of the Christ. The episode of witch-hunting in Europe came in front of my eyes; where powerful single women were murdered by accusing them as witches. It is so weird that just in front of the sculpture, we hold our worship of a lady, Goddess Kali! Humans aren’t very clear what they want from themselves!      

Next stop being the International Dance Festival, it was just right to set my mood to blend in cultural beauty of the land; away from our closed mindsets. The venue, Satyajit Ray auditorium was itself a beauty, with marvelous pieces of art all around as you enter. Dancing to the classical Indian we saw dancers from Bangladesh and South Africa. Unmatched beauty of the expressions, dance postures and music caught my heart in a web where I was proud to be an Indian! With much more to come the next day I peacefully went off to sleep!   

What does it mean for me to be in CARE?

I have to submit this application! I simply cannot miss this wonderful opportunity”, mumbling this to myself, I started another unfinished job as my supervisor called out for me. It was another day being spent in frustration, but the difference was that I had something going on in my head! It was just about 5:30, perhaps the closing time, when I clicked on the vacancies in CARE portal and uploaded my application on the same.

Next thing I knew, I was on the train to Delhi to attend the interview in a project called Integrated Family Health Initiative (IFHI). The interview was an experience which made me smile throughout the day! One moment I was talking to a group of animated young professionals to help ‘us’ get to a conclusion during group activity, and the very next moment I was sitting in front of a desktop analyzing my feelings in different situations!

My joy knew no bounds when I heard from ‘them’. The first thing which caught my attention was the name of the organization; “CARE” it evokes a kind of warmth to hear that. For a beginner who was still not very sure of herself, it was ecstatic to hear from an organization which had a ‘big name’ (Especially when I had tried hard to do an internship during summers in CARE and had no success in that!).

I had not yet joined CARE, when I attended one of its meetings. It changed my complete outlook towards my job. I wanted to be right there, in the midst of those intelligent and passionate people working for something which made a difference to lives. I kept awake that night, waiting and wondering when I would be a part of it. My own life was in turmoil personally as well as professionally when I joined CARE. I was not sure whether the change of organization gave me that high feeling or was it something else?

By joining CARE, my college days came back to me! I would sit with awe as our Technical Director would speak. I would put up as many questions before him without even thinking for a split second (I actually bugged many people in that process; as incidentally my question would just pop up when we would be running late for Tea break!). I was like a child, who was starved of knowledge, of ideas; my job had done that to me. But here I was there, beginning to feel alive yet again!

It has been about 5 months today and I seem to have come a long way forward.  My family often tells me that I seem to be radiating positive energy lately. It is basically a game of the attitude on work; I have found so much of warmth and optimism in people here that makes me belong here; in this team and this project!  

Working on a project on Maternal and Child health was my dream since long! The issue closest to my heart is the health of women in our society especially would-be mothers. A sensitive thought as put in one of our meetings “Pregnancy itself is risk to life” clearly mentions the grave danger our women (especially in developing countries) face during child birth. One of the natural process become life threatening! Here we are trying to make a change and remove road blocks from all sides; awareness among the community members as well as quality of services in Public facilities. I always was intrigued with ‘doctor-like’ technical details of things; what better would be to heal lives? With continuous brushing up of our knowledge skills on technical side of IFHI project, today I feel empowered to speak to front line workers about some simple things which act nothing less than a doctor’s advice. Gaining and use of this knowledge on field has given me immense satisfaction of doing something worthwhile. Counseling of one mother successfully on field who was resistant to get a TT shot gave me a peaceful sleep at night!

When ‘perceived’ cold and disinterested front line workers listen to you with awe;  and start to share their experiences (apart from their usual grievances about incentives not paid) is when my heart swells up with pride and confidence. I can make them laugh too! Imagine a person like me, who used to be so very conscious of speaking in front of even two people. Today I can conduct trainings efficiently and ‘connect’ with people; my dream to teach is getting realized too! Earlier I always needed my lines ready in the form of a paper incase I go blank in front of an audience; but not anymore!

I had only read about soft skills of a manager in our HR class during college, but my job had not given me an opportunity to explore that. Here in CARE I seem to slowly understand the intricacies and challenges to work with a team; and to experience people report to you! Believe me, it gives you a high!

Most importantly I have witnessed in myself a sense of receptiveness to ambiguity of situations. I personally am a person who would be very uncomfortable in a situation which is unpredictable. Here ever since we have joined IFHI, the project seems to be evolving! It feels we are here to put our heads (and hearts) together to make something work. It gives me the feeling of being in a perfect learning organization (another concept we learned in HR class in college) which is giving me a golden opportunity to grow professionally as well as personally!   

I am an agent of CHANGE!

Born in suburb’s of Patna as eldest of her siblings; the responsibility of the whole house rested on the fragile shoulders. Her curly hairs were short because she did not have any time to care for them. The pink and blue coloured suit which she wore often was her favourite one and she made sure it was always clean.

“Sumitra, where are you? Come here and feed Manish; your little brother. Is the food ready Sumitra; why is it taking so long?” 

This 12 year old girl was ‘almost’ the mother of her 6 sisters and youngest brother. She was ‘on call’ all the time and as she herself tells us “I was the one who was consulted for any future plans for the family or even the daily menu! I used to be brilliant in studies and games as well. My father would often say that once I grew up, I would change the world!”

But the reality of life turned out to be different for her. She had just completed 8th when she was married off. Life did not become what she dreamt of.

Sumitra tells us “For my own future, none consulted me! I wanted to study more, do something for myself and my society. But my pleas did not find any place in my dad’s ears (who was otherwise the most caring person in my world!) That was the day when I sensed that my life is nothing better than that of a refugee.”

Her new home was in a remote village called ‘Kedalpura.’ Since she was the young wife, youngest of 4 ‘married’ brothers and hence was destined to be most submissive. Her submissiveness found a way into her husband’s heart who supported her when she wanted to apply as an Anganwadi worker. Sumitra says “One day at the village hand pump, I heard few women talking about some kind of work in the village itself - ‘Anganwadi worker’. I also came to know what one needed to be 8th pass for it.” It was then that Sumitra decided to approach her husband to help her fill the form for it.

It has been about 4 years since she has been working as an Anganwadi worker. Sumitra fitted into the role of teaching young kids, feeding them at the centre and distributing food materials to pregnant and lactating women perfectly. When we first met her, a lot of issues were on her mind; poor payment system, dissatisfactory government pricing of the foods to be distributed, unpaid incentives and extra work from almost all departments.

There was a lot of frustration in her; regarding her work and the system around her. Sumitra tells us “I would at times find my work to be too mechanical. Supporting my family was my initial thought about taking up the job, but then I started searching meaning in it. It was then we met people from CARE”

Operations of CARE had begun in Danapur block, one of the blocks in the Patna district in Bihar in April, 2011. The initial meeting included orientation to all the front line workers and follow up through block coordinators. The uptake of complete enumeration of families in the villages was the most difficult part. It was rigorous outreach activities that helped us make some space in minds and hearts of the workers. But then we met gems like Sumitra on the way, who were searching for a meaning in their jobs. It is true for many others out there who are self-motivated, just that little push would do! Who doesn’t need a purpose in life? Our interactions with AWWs on field soon initiated their home visits to beneficiaries’ especially pregnant women and young mothers. “We used to make visits to houses, but without any knowledge. Now we have an agenda and a clear picture as what we want mothers to know and do when we meet them” states Sumitra.

It has not been long in the project but there are many such stories which make you smile and wonder at how lives change through simple actions! It is not about how the system is working or what we are working on. It is about empowerment of people, individuals who are already in the system. It is not as much through putting in more resource we would be able to help them, but making them responsible for it. As finally Sumitra puts it “There may be a thousand problems in the job, but I find a unique happiness in looking into young healthy eyes. I feel proud and responsible for making a difference in their lives. I may not have changed the world, but I surely have contributed my bit!”

The Story of a Hospital............

Screaming, abusing and threatening the authorities a man rushes past! It was the third incident that week. It was only a day before that same intensity of screaming and shouting was followed by violent sobs. There was a loss of life! A young woman had entered the premises just around 9 at night. There was as it is few staff in the labour room then (I still don’t know if they can work out some kind of duty by round system). Her eyes looked full of grief; it was as though she would not be able to survive the pain. But she did! Her child could not-it died soon after birth. It seems that the child was in the womb for ‘too long’! It could not breathe when it came out, and no one knew what to do. Next day the story was a little different, we lost the mother itself!

Here let me take a few words to introduce myself; I am known as Referral hospital, Naubatpur, which is a block in Patna district, Bihar (It seems it is due to the fact that most of the cases are not handled here, but only referred out!). It is also sad but true that my premises are (or ‘were’ perhaps, but still there is a lot of scope of improvement) not too good, they are just ‘Ok’ types. Apart from that, the disinterested look on the face of the facility staff is what used to scare me most! They don’t seem to be dealing with human lives; all had become so very mechanical in their work.

The status of the Operation Theatre was not much different. At most times, it was a locked quite room except for ‘Family planning operation day’ (usually a Thursday). It is on this day that one could see a huge line; you could spot women of all ages there! And if you happen to interact with them, you would come to know that perhaps they have about 4-5 children in their family already (Come to think of that; they have already overdue their share of producing babies!). The Operation Theatre was so ‘little’ clean that more than cure, people might actually end up having infections in my vicinity. And my so called “Hospital Manager” (I rather call him a blind horse) who runs my management; used to close his eyes and run after only the performance indicators! All said and done, it still remained a big zero!

The frustration which I could sense among the OPD patients was immeasurable too. They didn’t seem to get any medicines there most of the times. I even heard one of the patients say “If we have to pay here too, what is the meaning of coming to a Government facility?” Just after this the store-keeper realised that the whole new stock of medicines was consumed by termites. Imagine, at one place people don’t get medicines and at other place it rots inside my stores! What a paradoxical situation………….

It was when the situation was at its worst that few young people came into picture. They were from CARE, an organization which had started its operations in Bihar recently. The project which was named as Integrated Family Health Initiative had a huge buying. It was to help improve the health facilities; it was about me!

The whole concept of ‘problem bank’ was initiated which helped the staff to realise the problems they had and work for them collectively.

Few simple practices such as hand-washing at all ‘important steps’ was internalised. Renovation of almost all areas; OT, Labour room, New born corner and wards was another face-lift I had (Almost like a plastic surgery!). More importantly, my staff got trained. Rigorous training and handholding was needed for all here!

It just about setting some things right there. I could never imagine that a little ‘order’ in the work could help reduce the frustration level of staff so much. It was not so much change in work structure but way the work was viewed now!

I am proud to say that now no woman or child dies here; either the complications are handled well or they are referred to higher facilities on time. Neither does the ‘operations’ happen in camp mode-like a herd of cattle. Now there is a family planning corner where the counsellor talks about the “Basket of choices” to the beneficiaries ie we talk about offering eligible couples;15-49 of age (who caters to the ones who get pregnant before that, is what I still think about!) all kinds of methods of spacing and limiting. (Workers do not talk about female sterilization only, which has an incentive attached!)

I felt like an orphan since a few months back, no one would claim me! My building was in shambles and there used to be only dogs in and around my compound. I felt that perhaps the end was near when my building would be broken and a “Fancy Mall” would be made in my place. (I have heard that is what is happening to all the old buildings now)

It has been quite a journey; I am an old man now! So is the Gulmohar tree in my compound which was once very green; and in the times of spring you could not even spot a leave on it, it was so full of lovely red flowers. It got dry in between, dry and old; just as me. But you know what? I spotted a few green leaves on it the other day. My story too goes in the same fashion…………..Voila! My prayers were answered! CARE team came to my block and now, it seems CARE had adopted me! I am also in the process of repair now and whitewashed-white and red (as Hospital Code, you see!) Now as you look at me I shine like a new coin, just out of the mine!

I hold the dream of being able to provide better services to people, close to my heart. I believe I would truly be a Referral hospital (not just by name, but in practice-as Shakespeare said” What’s in a Name?”)     

A start TODAY!

Work you do does make a difference in life; and when it does to other’s life, its worth doing! Sometimes you like your work, but even better is when the work starts liking you. I am proud of myself today; but it has not been like this forever.

It seemed that my nose-ring (like a noose) kept me bound to the house, even after my husband left to work abroad. With two small kids dependent on me, it was criminal for me to sit quietly at home. I would spend most of my time in useless household work, which would still leave me with a feeling so empty and useless. I wanted to do something for my children, myself and my village.

It was then that I heard about the vacancy for the post of ASHAs in the block, and got selected and tagged as “Meera Kumari” ASHA-Parsa (where I had come as a young bride sometime back). Even after the selection it took me a long time to start my work; for once there was nothing like any training organized for us. We were left to work and learn on our own. During our monthly ASHA meets it was more or less like a political party meeting, where everyone would be there but none would or rather could hear or understand anything, leave alone clear our doubts! There were many more like me in the group who wanted to do something concrete but felt helpless due to lack of knowledge or anyone to help us.

It was 1st Wednesday of the month that we were called for a meeting at Health Sub-Centre. It was informed by ANM didi (The only one we could turn towards help, but we saw her only once a month) that it would start at about 1 pm but since it was ‘too’ far from my home; I was double-minded and reached late at the venue. There I saw a team of young people who were trying to ‘enact’ how we ‘interact’ with pregnant women and mothers during our meetings with them. I got hooked! The team was from CARE and they were actually going to train us on how to ‘talk to beneficiaries’ coming right to the village.

It has been 4 months now after that first meeting and I have grown into a confident woman from that demure bride who could never even think about talking to her village people about ‘Family Planning’. Initially I had a lot of problems too. My work area included two extremes; one Musahar community (low castes) and Bhumihaar (upper caste) which made it very peculiar for me to work there. Although I didn’t believe much in caste system, the acceptance among the people there for me was very low. I decided to take up the challenge and started identifying the children who needed me the most.

As per growth monitoring charts, we decided to adopt few houses for ongoing counseling sessions. My visits to Musahar community were more than others since I realized that they needed my counseling more. This is where I met Laxmi and her 9 month old Rajesh. Rajesh when weighed came in ‘red line’. It was explained by the AWW that if he was not taken care of, he would be dangerously malnourished. This child as complained by his mother would not take anything other than her own milk. After getting the same reply from her in two visits; I asked her to bring whatever food was available at home. Reluctantly she brought out some cooked rice. I asked her to mix a little salt in it and started feeding the child. Lo and behold, the child started eating. Laxmi was ashamed of her laziness to feed her own child. Today the child is eating all kinds of vegetables, pulses and cereals and recovering well (as per last month’s weighing, he has come into yellow line category) and Laxmi is thankful to me.

Ravish, 2 month old was a feeble child who would never stop crying. The child caught my attention when his mother Archana had refused to get him immunized through ANM in-spite of repeated efforts. They were far too rich for that! I gathered all my courage to go to their house which was famous for its harsh language. After the initial hesitation, I was at ease with myself and started enquiring about breastfeeding practices from the mother. It was surprisingly scary that the child had been fed on bottle since the start. “We can afford bottle milk, that’s why we are feeding it!” is what I heard from the Mother-in-law, Sharda Devi. No wonder the child fell ill every 15 days and would never stop crying. Through the picture pamphlets I explained to the mother some ‘easy way’ of breastfeeding the child (I sensed the unwillingness to breastfeed was a reason here). Few signs of proper latching and suckling during breastfeeding were also taught to Archana. The whole concept of breastfeeding was changed from ‘free diet’ to ‘healthy diet’ for the richer class. This simple change in conversation style brought about a behaviour change and helped a mother to breastfeed her child again.

Today I feel the caste doesn’t define anyone’s development, only knowledge does! The continuous weekly follow up by CARE team has made us so efficient that we speak about anything related to mother and child confidently. Our visits to the field have made us gain respect in the communities. On one of the field visits when I heard “Apni ke hamni ke zindagi ke asal main Asha ho gayal baani” (you have actually become ASHA of our lives) from one of the villagers, my heart swelled with pride. I realize that there is still a very long way to go, but here I have made a start!     

A start TODAY!

Work you do does make a difference in life; and when it does to other’s life, its worth doing! Sometimes you like your work, but even better is when the work starts liking you. I am proud of myself today; but it has not been like this forever.

It seemed that my nose-ring (like a noose) kept me bound to the house, even after my husband left to work abroad. With two small kids dependent on me, it was criminal for me to sit quietly at home. I would spend most of my time in useless household work, which would still leave me with a feeling so empty and useless. I wanted to do something for my children, myself and my village.

It was then that I heard about the vacancy for the post of ASHAs in the block, and got selected and tagged as “Meera Kumari” ASHA-Parsa (where I had come as a young bride sometime back). Even after the selection it took me a long time to start my work; for once there was nothing like any training organized for us. We were left to work and learn on our own. During our monthly ASHA meets it was more or less like a political party meeting, where everyone would be there but none would or rather could hear or understand anything, leave alone clear our doubts! There were many more like me in the group who wanted to do something concrete but felt helpless due to lack of knowledge or anyone to help us.

It was 1st Wednesday of the month that we were called for a meeting at Health Sub-Centre. It was informed by ANM didi (The only one we could turn towards help, but we saw her only once a month) that it would start at about 1 pm but since it was ‘too’ far from my home; I was double-minded and reached late at the venue. There I saw a team of young people who were trying to ‘enact’ how we ‘interact’ with pregnant women and mothers during our meetings with them. I got hooked! The team was from CARE and they were actually going to train us on how to ‘talk to beneficiaries’ coming right to the village.

It has been 4 months now after that first meeting and I have grown into a confident woman from that demure bride who could never even think about talking to her village people about ‘Family Planning’. Initially I had a lot of problems too. My work area included two extremes; one Musahar community (low castes) and Bhumihaar (upper caste) which made it very peculiar for me to work there. Although I didn’t believe much in caste system, the acceptance among the people there for me was very low. I decided to take up the challenge and started identifying the children who needed me the most.

As per growth monitoring charts, we decided to adopt few houses for ongoing counseling sessions. My visits to Musahar community were more than others since I realized that they needed my counseling more. This is where I met Laxmi and her 9 month old Rajesh. Rajesh when weighed came in ‘red line’. It was explained by the AWW that if he was not taken care of, he would be dangerously malnourished. This child as complained by his mother would not take anything other than her own milk. After getting the same reply from her in two visits; I asked her to bring whatever food was available at home. Reluctantly she brought out some cooked rice. I asked her to mix a little salt in it and started feeding the child. Lo and behold, the child started eating. Laxmi was ashamed of her laziness to feed her own child. Today the child is eating all kinds of vegetables, pulses and cereals and recovering well (as per last month’s weighing, he has come into yellow line category) and Laxmi is thankful to me.

Ravish, 2 month old was a feeble child who would never stop crying. The child caught my attention when his mother Archana had refused to get him immunized through ANM in-spite of repeated efforts. They were far too rich for that! I gathered all my courage to go to their house which was famous for its harsh language. After the initial hesitation, I was at ease with myself and started enquiring about breastfeeding practices from the mother. It was surprisingly scary that the child had been fed on bottle since the start. “We can afford bottle milk, that’s why we are feeding it!” is what I heard from the Mother-in-law, Sharda Devi. No wonder the child fell ill every 15 days and would never stop crying. Through the picture pamphlets I explained to the mother some ‘easy way’ of breastfeeding the child (I sensed the unwillingness to breastfeed was a reason here). Few signs of proper latching and suckling during breastfeeding were also taught to Archana. The whole concept of breastfeeding was changed from ‘free diet’ to ‘healthy diet’ for the richer class. This simple change in conversation style brought about a behaviour change and helped a mother to breastfeed her child again.

Today I feel the caste doesn’t define anyone’s development, only knowledge does! The continuous weekly follow up by CARE team has made us so efficient that we speak about anything related to mother and child confidently. Our visits to the field have made us gain respect in the communities. On one of the field visits when I heard “Apni ke hamni ke zindagi ke asal main Asha ho gayal baani” (you have actually become ASHA of our lives) from one of the villagers, my heart swelled with pride. I realize that there is still a very long way to go, but here I have made a start!     

I am NOT going to DIE!

“Sarita, Sarita……….You are going to be OK!” I hear faint voices and think perhaps I am NOT going to be OK after all. (This is what happens in movies too, I guess when someone is going to die, and the doctor says “You are going to be Ok”). I can feel someone dabbing at the end of my yellow sari and continuously caressing my brown curly hair, but the sensation is soon getting numb.

With darkness gathering around me, I think back as what I have been through in the past couple of hours (days or perhaps months or years!)

With the start of my puberty, my parents were fanatic to get me married (I simply couldn’t understand the reason back then!) The first DECENT boy they came across was to be my future husband. He lived in Tilhavan, a village situated in Naubatpur block of Patna district in Bihar. It was not even connected by a road! I could only sit and wonder as how life would be for me from now on?

It was one morning that I woke up feeling very sick and weak! Soon after that I started vomiting (and the most silly and surprising thing was that everyone around me starting congratulating me!! Is that how we deal with a patient here? I was to still find out!) The truth dawned on me soon after and I became the would-be Mother! But the fact was to be kept it a secret for some time (Though I heard my mother-in-law whispering the secret to the lady next door, who is the known radio of the village!) The days were nothing different for me even after (Except for the added burden of morning sickness, flushes, pains and headaches!). For a girl who was only 15 then, it was difficult to understand what it is about to be a mother was!

That morning I was putting out the clothes to dry, when a lady walked up to me. She introduced herself as Rashmi, an ASHA, a volunteer health worker of the village and asked if there was a woman pregnant in the house? (So the radio had worked as I expected!)

Next day, I was taken by the Rashmi to meet a “lady in white” who was known as the ANM didi in the health system. Manisha didi gave me a shot of Tetanus Toxoid (TT) and 100 pills to eat. These small red looking pills were to increase my blood, as I was told that I looked pale. (Let the mother-in-law stop sucking some, everything would be alright) She told me that if I delivered in a government hospital, I would obtain Rs1400/- after my delivery.

In the mean time I could feel him grow within me! He seemed to take away all the nutrition from me. Most days I would feel sapped of energy and dizzy. (If you are wondering how I already know my baby is a “HE”, it was what my mother-in-law constantly told me - rather threatened me – ‘it better be a he’).

Unexpectedly the pain started one late evening for me. The vessel out of which I was serving food to my husband fell on the ground, with a loud noise!

Since there was no vehicle in the vicinity, I had to be brought to the hospital on a cot (The news of getting money after delivery was enough to persuade my mother-in-law for an institutional delivery, otherwise as she says “All of my children are healthy and born at HOME”).

I cannot exactly call THAT a Hospital! There was none around except for a sleepy lady who cursed me for having labour pains at that hour! As soon as I was shifted on the cold steel table I started shivering badly (I felt it to be more than shivers, as though my whole body was being shaken under a spell) I was told that my blood pressure was far too high and none could handle it there. The moment the lady saw this, she asked my husband to take me to a HIGHER hospital some 40 kms away for an operation! An ambulance was arranged to take me away (Not without asking to pay for it!) It was very difficult to think to go that far by someone as poor as us. So we landed in a private clinic behind the hospital instead (to cut me open!). The nurse at this clinic took my blood from the finger and shook her head. She told my husband that I had far “too less blood” and they did not have any facility to “transfer blood” during operation. For the second time in a night, I was let down by another hospital!

Next moment I was fighting between life and death in an ambulance! (We had to finally call an ambulance to take me to the next far off hospital). It was a huge question whether I would survive to reach the hospital or not? I guess even after reaching there, would I come under the knife of a doctor? (or would there be any doctor at this hour for that matter?)

With so many questions running in mind, none of my family members believed I would survive, but I did! Yes, it was impossible, but I did make it, perhaps to write a new story.

Soon after my baby was 6 months old, some people (city folks) knocked at my doorstep. They introduced themselves from CARE. They told me that CARE was an NGO and that it had started its work recently in my village. The two-way work that they talked about, on field as well as the hospital, is what impressed me. You require two hands to clap, true isn’t it? During talks with them, the story about my child-birth came up. They talked about birth-preparedness (I still didn’t understand what that EXACTLY meant) and many more things. This visit was soon followed up by Madhuri, an Anganwadi worker,who teaches young children and provides us with some supplementary food (I did not even know she lived in my village!). My child was weighed and registered for Anganwadi services. I was asked to attend the Village Health, Sanitation and Nutrition Days (VHSND) at the Anganwadi centre once a month and was also advised about various things to follow for keeping a young child healthy and happy. In one of my visits to Anganwadi centre, I met some people, who were from CARE too. They also insisted us (young mothers like me) to visit the Anganwadi regularly and learn all the good ‘new’ things. It felt nice to have someone actually talk about you and your child’s well being. I felt there was so much more that I could have done for my baby during my pregnancy had I known about this platform earlier (or perhaps had CARE come to me earlier!)

I am a would-be mother again now, but there is a difference! I am not that naïve girl anymore, but an empowered woman. I now know that I need to save for my baby, keep contacts of the vehicle owner in my area for transport and most importantly identify the facility where complications that can arise during delivery (I know them well enough to teach people too!) can be handled well. I learnt all this in a VHSND session on birth-preparedness (I later came to know that CARE had trained the AWW for such things). I have also been talking about birth-preparedness to my sister who stays in Rohtas, another district of Bihar. I even told her, “Wish CARE would work there too, they really ‘CARE’ for you!” I have also got myself checked for ‘no danger signs’ by the ANM, and am taking all the services due for a pregnant woman; but I still know that its not ‘fool-proof’ for no complications. 

So, this time I am ready, I can take the bull by its horns. All thanks to our health system staff and CARE team who made a difference in my life and probably are going to make changes into many more lives through the life of this project.  

Adaptation..............

As the parched Earth looks up at the sky for mercy; we tend to get restless by the heat of the season. The story remains the same----unbearable humidity, profuse sweating and drained energies. Life becomes absolutely paralysed and we pray to God every single day (rather curse him many times) for it to rain. The clouds too seem to elude us and show their importance as though they have also turned out to be some Sarkari babus who need “some motivation” to do their work!

But when it rains, it seems heaven is pouring (wish with heaven raining, we have some saints falling on ground too; we seldom see them on Earth now)! When rains start, they are all the same; be it back home in Haryana or in this strange city where I have come to work (Not that I am a stranger to Patna anymore!). Its all the same, same freshness in the surroundings, newness to life…………The trees washed up with leaves all smiling like an urchin who has had bath after a “few” days! The satisfied fragrance of Earth which soaks itself in the love of Clouds; all of the cracks healed up in one big wash. Its all the same, same filling up of puddles on the road, muddy streets and garbage stinking at the sides of the road (a sight to watch that sure is!).

I peep out of the window and smile to myself. It is raining! As the thought brings with it the relief from heat, it also brings along a line of thought! What to wear, how to reach office etc. White is a complete No…….who is going to wash off those mud stains????? Next comes the sandals-I cant wear my favourite shoes or socks now! My dear laptop too wears a ‘raincoat’ as it gets ready to go to work. As I hurriedly enter into an auto rickshaw, water drips from the edge of its roof and I am wet from one side (seems like I have jumped half into a swimming pool). I reach office later than usual, taking rain as an excuse!

On my way I see men with garbage trucks lifting the garbage from the sides, lest it should stink like dead! Vegetable sellers can be seen sitting on the pavements with colourful umbrellas and plastic sheets to shield from rain. That is how we adapt! Adaptation is what brings challenge to life. Had we not decided to adapt, we would have to still live as cavemen! Rain or Monsoon, adaptation is the way to life in this competitive yet beautiful world!

The Beginning or the END?

Everyone loves happy endings. What if life starts with “The End”? Usually in bollywood movies, the guy and the girl finally get married is when we get up with a satisfied smile. But life is not a bollywood movie, it is just life! And my life was such!

I was born in sub-urbs of Patna where I grew up among 7 brothers and sisters; I being the eldest of them all. The whole house revolved around my demands (and there were a thousand demands on me too!) I was the one who was consulted for any future plans, style of clothing or even the menu! I used to be brilliant in studies and games as well. My father would often say that once I grew up, I would change the world!

But the reality of life is different. I was only in 8^th when I was married off (For my own future, none consulted me!). My pleas would not find any place in my dad’s ears (who was otherwise the most caring person in my world!) That was the day when I sensed that my life is nothing different than that of a refugee. My ‘home’ from birth was no more than a shelter till I become capable of making one of my own (whether I was capable of building a life at that young age is another thing!)

My new home was in a remote village called ‘Tangrela.’ It was as though I was transferred back into time by a time machine. The ringing of wedding bells was weird for me. I would see very little of my husband and my life revolved around mother-in-law and sister-in-laws (which I could call them ‘in-love’ but they were anything other than that!) I was the young wife of youngest of 4 ‘married’ brothers and hence was destined to be most submissive. I once tried to break this submissiveness by reasoning with my eldest sister-in-law and was presented with a slap so tight that I now hear less from my left ear.

I would sit by the window all day and gaze at the girls going to school on bicycles. (that is one possession given by Nitish’s government that has changed the lives of young girls in Bihar). Something stirred inside me that one day when a young girl looked at me with pity! (Yes, the expression was that of sympathy for me.) I approached my husband to let me study further and was received with an answer “I am the youngest and cannot take such decisions on my own”. I assured him that I would convince everyone if he was with me. Next week was spent in pleading (read begging) my mother-in-law and sister-in-laws to let me study. There was the question of the loss of the household work which was accepted by me to finish before school time. Then came the question of my tuition fees, who would pay that? My father stepped in and took care of that (I told you he was a caring person for me)

Days went on and everyone in the house (including villagers would jest at me; a mother of 4 children attending school), but I believed in myself. I would sit in a corner at night (after completing ALL my duties and concentrate hard on my studies)

Today I have passed my matric examination and am working as Anganwadi worker in my own village. I don’t know about others but atleast I am proud of myself. There are several issues causing dissatisfaction in ICDS system-our own payment system, government pricing of the foods to be distributed, incentives and extra work bog us down. But then I find a unique happiness in looking into young eyes and feeling proud that I am making a difference in their lives. I may not have changed the world, but I surely have contributed my bit!       

Like children

When you look at a child, there are a thousand expressions in his eyes. (It must be weird for all the paediatricians to imagine the expressions I am talking about since the only one they get is either a blank face or a scared one!) The child may be cute/not cute, rich or poor; but they are all the same! Once you have caught their attention, you would either receive a smile or a cry!

In case you get a chance to enter a nursery room in a school, the most amazing sight awaits you! Each child is different in his own special way (atleast that’s what Aamir Khan made us believe after Taare Zameen Par) and you need to observe each one to know what life is all about! You would see some engrossed in animated talks within the gang; some others aloof than rest of the class. One of them is sure to be a gangster running and bullying people around him. They are like flowers in a garden; all different and all so amazingly beautiful!

People are like children. I think this is the simplest way to describe human behaviour (that too in one SHORT line)! You smile at them and they smile at you (Ok, I mentioned the kids who do NOT smile at you too!) Deep down our masks of this world, we all are children- we need to be cared for, seek attention and show patterns of jealousy! Try observing a kid who has got a new sibling. He would always try to seek attention of his parents in one way or the other; showing jealously towards the new born. Mothers have to act smart by giving the responsibility of the younger one to elder (atleast that’s what my Mom did; and it worked!)

Like children we take our broken toys (read dreams) to our parents (read God) to mend; but keep hovering around them. We do not give him time to mend our lives; we act like impatient brats! The fact is that we hold on to our dreams so tight that we strangle them. We do not realise that life is not about reaching somewhere; but how we reach there! Life is about today!

Of course I believe that what ever we do comes back to us; doesn’t mean we keep living in past or future! (Anyways I always wonder how many things that I have done; do I want to receive back? Gosh! it sure is scary) When you look a young child; he has no plans, no worries in mind. (Yes, may be he plans to get that videogame on his next birthday) For a child everything is a wonder! Every moment holds a new question. He may not get an appropriate answer from his parents all the time (especially when they tend to bring office back to home), but he knows life is about learning slowly; experiencing each moment. Lets live like children-believing in goodness of everyone. (I have received beautiful smiles from children, to whom I was a complete stranger; you just have to smile at them first!) When we do not believe in goodness in people, we only exist. Let us live life………..like children!