A Delhi Dekko

(Photo credit: Yashas Chandra)

(Photo Credit: Yashas Chandra)

Have you ever wondered what life is like for street children who live in and around the New Delhi Railway station? If you’re anything like me, you’d probably never have even noticed them as you scrambled your way to catch the train to your vacation destination, or as you arrived, bedraggled and dreaming of your bed at home.

For most commuters, lives of the station-children strike us in brief bursts of horror and pity: the near-naked boy with no legs who slides his way through the filth of our compartment’s floors; the little girl with sun-streaked, matted hair who wafts through the compartment singing a tuneless melody. By and large, the ephemeral lives of these invisible children – who wander bereft of permanent shelter or family – remain hidden to even the most discerning of eyes.

Not for much longer, however. An innovative initiative, spearheaded by Salaam Baalak Trust, aims to demystify life on the streets in an ingenious manner: a two hour tour of the New Delhi Railway station and its environs, led by its true connoisseurs -- children who have grown up on the streets.

I arrived, breathless and apologetic, at the appointed hour and location, just as the tour began. Two young, smartly-dressed men addressed the group in near-perfect English and introduced themselves as the tour leaders. The first, Shekhar, described his career as a debutante actor. Javed, the second, discussed his aspirations to work with the UNDP after completing his Masters in Social Work.

The excellent oration and finesse of the leaders baffled me, and just as I opened my notebook to check whether I had misread the part about the tour being led by children from the streets, Shekhar added that he had, as a runaway child from Bihar, spent much of his adolescence on the streets we were standing on. Javed echoed his story. They had both encountered Salaam Baalak Trust in their teens, and through it, were able to slowly unravel themselves from the addictive web of street life.

The tour leaders took us - a mélange of foreigners, Indians, and foreigner-Indians - across railway platforms, through traffic-choked arteries of Paharganj, and to favorite street children-hangouts. Seemingly nondescript locations were transformed, through the eyes of these unlikely story tellers, into the animated stage upon which the budding dreams and blighted hopes of children were played out every day. Pointing to the train-washing track, Javed revealed a nugget of street-life wisdom. “Children take their showers on those tracks, usually on Fridays, as it is a special day for station-dwellers. Not for religious purposes, but because that is the day that Bollywood films are released!”

As we stopped on Platform 12, Shekhar gave us a first hand account of the Station Mafia in true Pacino-style. “Nearly 300 runaway children arrive at the Station everyday. The mafia leader of a particular platform captures some of these children and trains them in skills such as pickpocketing, singing, begging, etc. The mandir,” Shekhar explained, pointing just across the station’s boundary wall, “is where the mafia leaders stay. A mandir is actually the safest place in India for a criminal!”

Trying not to contemplate the whereabouts of the gang leader of the platform I was standing on, I walked ahead hurriedly, stopping at a fruit stand. “Railway children have a special relationship with fruit sellers and chemists,” Javed pointed out. “Immediately after a luxury train arrives, children run through them to find uneaten fruit and then give it to the fruit seller. In return, the vendor allows them to sleep on his vendor-ceiling at night, and even protects them when the Station police arrive. The police sometimes beat the children for no reason, though,” he says ruefully, “and that’s where the chemist shop comes in handy.”

The importance of these symbiotic relationships is not to be understated, the leaders emphasized. “Though there is suffering, life on the railways is also about friendship, love, and a strong feeling of community. Even in the direst of circumstances, people look out for each other.”

My admiration for the leaders piqued as they told me of their plans to publicize the tour in an effort to draw national attention to the lives of station-children. “We want more and more Indians, especially students, to join us and learn about the issues that these children face,” said Shekhar. For an inimitable insight into the courage, determination, and resilience of the human spirit – and for some fun – book your place on a tour. For more information, contact Shekhar at +919873130383.

(To be published by The Hindu)

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Dear Reader: I didn't mean for this to be an article, really. I thought I would it would be an interesting experience, for experience's sake. But I enjoyed the tour, thought the idea was fantastic, and figured that making an article out of it would be a great way to spread publicity about it. So, the article is to be published at some point, but I've put it up now to start spreading the word..

A Walk in The Clouds

The Hindu, April 16th 2006

For a touch of heaven on earth this summer, head to Sonapani. While many popular hill stations have come to be synonymous with traffic, pollution, and crowds – in short, all that the wary city dweller attempts to take a break from – Sonapani, with its rare combination of rustic charm and pristine natural beauty, is a welcome respite. Nestled in a forested grove and offering a stunning view of the Himalayan ranges, Sonapani is paradise for the senses and for the spirit.

Sonapani is a two hour drive from the nearest railhead of Kathgodam, which is an overnight journey from Delhi. The estate is located a short trek away from the nearest road, “in order to begin the traveler’s immersion in nature,” explains Ashish Arora, co-founder of Sonapani. The trek to Sonapani is breathtaking: ruddy-cheeked pahadi folk stop their work to wave at me from the fields; a herd of lively goats, bells hanging around their necks, announce their arrival in front of me; the pine-studded, cottage-flecked valley below looks straight out of a Swiss postcard. Following the meandering path and crossing a short patch of pinecone-carpeted woods, I catch the first glimpse of the red-bricked cottages of Sonapani, which look like they have just sprung up from the earth.

At the entrance, a staff member of Sonapani welcomes me with a glass of steaming apple-ginger cider. Its freshness astonishes me, and I remark at the richness of its taste. Not an untimely observation for my arrival at Sonapani, as Ashish explains: “The British established themselves in these parts during the Raj, after experiencing the extraordinary medicinal properties of the water found here. They called the area Sonapani, which literally means ‘gold water’.” A 100-year old stone cottage on the estate, currently the residence of Ashish and his family, stands as silent testimony to the legend.

Creating the resort at Sonapani wasn’t easy, however, explains Ashish. “The house and estate were in shambles when I first came, but I fell in love with the place and so I built it up with my own hands.” Ashish had come to Sonapani from Delhi, where he wanted to throw off the ‘suit and tie’ mania of the corporate world. Having been born and brought up in Kathgodam, he yearned to return to the hills and begin a project that would connect city-people to the natural beauty of the mountains, and also create a source of local employment for people in the area. “For want of employment, pahadi folk are often forced to migrate to the cities, where many end up in urban slums. Imagine having to give up this,” he says, his hands sweeping across the magnificent landscape in front of us, “for life in a slum!”

As my eye catches the iridescent sheen of a tiny hummingbird, the truth of Ashish’s words hit squarely home. The sheer abundance around me is so astonishing that it seems as if the word ‘want’ would simply not exist in the vocabulary here. Energetic wildlife – the busiest creatures on the estate – buzz, fly, sing and perch around us. Hundreds of species of birds call Sonapani home; magpies, bulbuls, and woodpeckers are just a few of its frequent visitors. Butterflies of striking design and color emerge in regular intervals to brighten the azure sky. Fruit trees abound; in front of every cottage, says Ashish, are fruit trees that are “opportunely located so that our guests can pluck fruit from them and eat them from the comfort of their cottages!” Vegetables – most grown organically - are located in neat patches between the cottages, where they find their way to the delicacies stirred up in the kitchen.

Indeed, if there were just one reason to visit Sonapani, it may be for the food. Despite being a self-proclaimed non-food aficionado, I found myself eagerly looking forward to the three mouth-watering meals -- and everything in between. The recipes are of traditional north Indian style, with the key difference from plains-food being the organic, fresh and local ingredients used. Herbs, such as rosemary, sage and thyme are grown on the estate and incorporated into the meals; garlic, being a commonly used ingredient in pahadi cooking is often used for light flavoring. Home-made fruit jams and chutneys, preservative-free and rich with local flavor, have become a Sonapani specialty. Just as I was about to ask if I could purchase a bottle of the maddeningly delicious apricot chutney, Ashish informed me that though they do not sell products now, they hope to begin an environmentally-friendly agribusiness in the future in a further effort to bolster the local economy.

The most memorable part of my visit to Sonapani was the incredible warmth of its people. Ill-prepared for a nippy evening, Ashish’s wife Deepa promptly offered me one of her sweaters. “We want our guests to feel at home,” she explained. So visit Sonapani and revel in its splendor - but beware, you may never feel like returning home. For more information on Sonapani, contact Ashish at: 9719005900 or access www.himalayanvillage.com

A Child's Rights, and You

Women's Feature Service, April 2006

http://www.boloji.com/wfs5/wfs594.htm

When asked what she would like to become when she grows up, Khushboo, 12, promptly responds, "A doctor." Firoze, 10, beams and adds: "I want to become a teacher so that I can teach many children." Ask Subodh why he attends school and he says, "Because I want to learn more about the world and gain knowledge. I also want to go to America!"

In the mall-infested, increasingly elitist metros of our country, it is not uncommon for children to harbour such gilt-edged aspirations. Yet, for Khushboo, Firoza and Subodh, simply imagining career trajectories requires an enormous leap of the imagination. Like slum-dwelling children across the nation, they live virtually invisible to our modern-day social structures - non-existent to the government and civil society, bereft of dependable educational and medical welfare - they live, literally, in the fly-infested, dung-splattered crevices of our society. The statistics are staggering: 17 million Indian children (the largest number in the world) are child labourers, less than 50 per cent between the ages of 6 and 14 go to school, 74 per cent below the age of three months are anaemic. And the list goes on and on.

"What is happening to India's children is constitutionally illegal, and demands immediate accountability from the State," says Ila Hakku of CRY. To draw national attention to the alarming state of child rights in India, CRY - formerly known as Child Relief and You - formally changed its name to Child Rights and You on March 30, 2005 and unveiled a Child Rights Charter. "The name change reflects the evolution of our work towards a rights-based approach over the last 27 years, and is not meant to represent any dramatic shift in our work. It is merely a formal step in the process," explains Ingrid Srinath, Chief Executive Officer, CRY.

However, the name-change represents a shift in CRY's public message, intended to bring child rights into the political arena to demand justice for children. "Every alternative to a rights-based approach is illegal, unjust and ineffective," says Srinath. "A relief-based approach can provide a 'Band Aid' type of solution, but it is not long-term or sustainable." CRY advocates a holistic approach to promoting child rights, which comprises examining the root causes of the injustice meted out to children and seeking the implementation of policies and laws that address these causes.

Critiquing the scheme-based, relief-oriented approach adopted by many governmental and non-governmental organisations, Hakku says, "We need to move from the narrow prisms of education, health and violence to the underlying causes of injustice, such as caste, gender and slum demolitions, and mobilise efforts to address these."

The name-change is also a not-so-subtle exhortation to citizenry: CRY strongly believes that ordinary citizens, especially from the middle- and upper-classes, must get involved in order for children's rights to figure on the national agenda, the corporate agenda and the media agenda. "Child rights can only become central to a country's agenda if its people choose to make it a priority by ensuring government accountability to actualise the rights of children," says a CRY press release.

Through a diverse array of newly-unleashed communication strategies - such as films, public service announcements and web-based initiatives - CRY aims to incite action from local citizens and, ultimately, the government. Referring to the apathy of citizenry and media to the enormous number of child-deaths in this country, Srinath rhetorically asks, "A 'genocide' of sorts occurs on a daily basis in this country, yet why do we not see a public outcry similar to that produced after the acquittal of the murderer of a page 3 model?"

Activists Aruna Roy and Jean Drèze were present at the press meeting to discuss the relevance of a rights-based approach based on their experiences with rights movements. Roy, who has pioneered the path-breaking Right to Information movement, noted the ways in which the various rights-movements could benefit from and support each other on a national scale.

Right to Food activist Drèze says, "India has some of the worst indicators of health in the world despite its runaway economic growth. The most astonishing aspect is that health goes virtually unnoticed and unspoken of in Indian media. Emphasising a rights-based approach is a means to challenge this silence." Putting an issue in the 'rights framework', he stresses, can create a large impact on a macro and micro-scale, as rights lend bargaining power to citizens, can be put in a legal framework to bolster the directive principles enshrined in the Constitution.

It is in this context that CRY had put forward its demands of the government's budget in February 2006 to coincide with the Union Budget Session. These demands, in brief, were:
* Increase expenditure on education to 10 per cent: Additional resources - and not just the two per cent cess and foreign loans - should be committed to ensuring quality secondary education. This would mean taking a broader, long-term view. It would translate to:
- providing quality education till the age of 18.
- ensuring that secondary schools are within a one km radius of hamlets
- employing well-trained educators on tenure , instead of hiring inadequately trained para-teachers on contract.
* Renew commitment to child protection
* Provide for a universal healthcare programme
* Prioritise child rights

The Child Rights Charter drafted by CRY "to stress its commitment to the fact that all children have equal rights, promised to them in our Constitution and in international treaties" will be presented to the President of India, in CRY's first political effort to demand State action. In a country where youth are often left out of decisions - both in the private and public spheres - CRY's message to the public is well-timed, and much needed.

(In the picture are Kapil and Nishar Ahmed. They live in the slum of Nithari in Noida, and attend evening classes run by an NGO called Saksham.)