Just another Ball Game

Satyajit Pal, 16, Bongaon, Dream: To be a footballer; reality: Poor Indian 

Durga Puja, 2012. The city of Kolkata was flooded with lights, love, and laughter… true to its name, The City of Joy. The four days of Puja are of pure festivity…of dressing up in your best, spending time with family and friends, and eating and making merry. 

Especially for the young people, these are the days of freedom and of dreams…the time to be cozy with your partner and, if you don’t have one, to find a pretty face to complete the festive dream.

Amidst this festive high, we spotted Satyajit, carrying his heavy, modern day sandwich board…advertising for a mobile service provider. He is just 16, stays near Bongaon, West Bengal, and is a ninth standard student in a local school.

The boy was out earning money while the entire city was having a ball. For sacrificing each evening’s merry making, he earned Rs. 350. In four days, he would make about Rs. 1400.

On asking why he was carrying this extremely heavy board around when he could have easily taken his girlfriend around, he gave a shy smile and said that he plays soccer and wants to make it to the district selections. For this, he desperately needs a pair of soccer boots and the only way he could buy them was with the money he’d get by carrying this board around. He did not have any of the other required soccer gear; neither did he know how to get them.

His family supports him as much as they can and had asked him to go out and enjoy like the other boys. However, for Satyajit, puja meant soccer and his dream was that of a pair of boots.

We don’t know his current whereabouts, neither do we have any more details. Our only wish is that unlike the thousands of other promising sportsmen, who get lost among the multitude of helpless Indian mango people, the dream of this boy should not be shattered and he should at least get a fair and good shot at realizing his dream of playing for the country.

The saints go marching in!!!

When the saints go marching in, so do men… For the baraat that has gone in and scored a huge and real life brownie point (read as perfect Indian wife & hefty dowry) for the bridegroom, the band that accompanied him finally walks home after a day’s job. They do not get to ride the car got by the bridegroom as a dowry nor any share of the booty… All they get is their daily wage and a little tip to go along with, not enough to ride a public bus too… In their glamorous attire they look a pretty picture, well that is as long as they are playing. These men are skilled enough to be performing together the bollywood blockbusters; however, they do not read music because they do not belong to the privileged lot of people who have had proper training. Most of these men have been born with flair for music and are in the profession mostly as a part time job, as this profession does not have constant flow of income as it is seasonal. Even in the season, it is not a daily affair, so they make ends meet by doing odd jobs.
Hope the saints will be watching over them when they go marching in…

The Best Half

Just another passer by, like many who came, went, and yet to go by… Just another passer by.I am a face that passes by the entrance and exit of Sealdah station every day.Here am I, and not to forget that standing by me is my best half. Yes! She is my third wife and the one I have been married for the longest. More than a decade now…the longest, and still standing tall. The rest had just come and gone by; indeed in those days of youth time just flew by.Yes, in quiet moments, just by myself, I think how uncertain were those moments of life. Crazy were the phases, but then looking back, just one steady ship. Yes again! Indeed the best. The best half.

Street Urchins

These children are categorized by UNICEF as the “Children on the street” or the “Children of the street”. They are considered as the hidden children as they never feature on any national surveys. The Indian census nowhere mentions these children and the only count we have is an estimated one by UNICEF. They do not actually count as they are not yet precious enough for a vote; which is reason enough for them to bypass the Sarva Shiksha Abhiyan. Sarva Shiksha Abhiyan (SSA) is Government of India's flagship programme for achieving the target of Universalization of Elementary Education (UEE) in a time-bound manner. The intent of this programme is to make education free and compulsory for children in the age group of 6-14 years. Education is, after all, one of the Fundamental Rights.

Sounds nice! It would actually be very nice if this fundamental right of the future was framed such that it reaches out to all the children; the essence seems to be there indeed, but the action is still missing.

As far as these children are concerned, study does not go very well in an empty stomach. There! Don’t we have the Mid-Day Meal Scheme? Yes! Apparently, the Mid-Day Meal is the world’s largest school feeding programme reaching out to about 12 crore children in over 12.65 lakh schools/EGS centres across the country.
But then we do have the hidden children; all these beautiful schemes and campaigns just pass them by. Neither the government, nor families are there to bring these children back to school. (To be continued)

Caged Damsels

From all corners of the country, we are brought in to be the caged damsels, entertaining the society. Some of us were brought in by the men we loved; some of us were sold off by relatives and family; some of us were too young to remember how we were brought in; but almost none of us came by choice. And yet, it is we who are considered fallen. Dr. Gilada's paper on perspectives and positional problems of social intervention shows that 70% of women are forced into prostitution and 20% of these are child prostitutes. The Indian National Commission for Women (National Commission for Women (1997) The Velvet Blouse: Sexual Exploitation of Children Delhi: Government of India, p.4.) quotes figures of two million sex workers. The number of child prostitutes as a percentage of the total is also quoted as being high. It has been suggested that 40% of female prostitutes begin selling sex before they are eighteen. Interestingly, in India, there have been no really reliable regional, let alone national, studies that can suggest the size of the sex industry...or, in other words, there is no count of Indian caged damsels.

The vast majority of women like us who become sex workers do so because of dire economic circumstances. Those of us who enter the brothel and street prostitution sectors are very young. Many – perhaps most - are children. The situation is thought to be especially acute in northern states where a combination of poverty and the low status of females contribute to their exploitation in the sex industry. In many desperately poor regions it is accepted that girls will become prostitutes in order to help their families. (http://www.who.int/hiv/topics/vct/sw_toolkit/sex_work_asia.pdf)

Pathways into sex work in India are 3-fold. First, many women are born into sex work as the family profession. The stigma associated with sex work, often coupled with residual caste system discrimination, severely limits educational and alternative economic opportunities. Second, many young women from rural areas and neighboring countries (e.g. Nepal, Bangladesh) are deceived, sold, or otherwise trafficked into sex work against their will. Driven by the extreme poverty facing their families and the lure of relatively large incomes, some women choose to return to sex work, albeit in a less coercive context, once they are returned to their homes. Sex workers in Calcutta are conservatively estimated to earn an hourly wage almost twice that of women in urban India. Finally, some women, given limited options, choose sex work as a means to support their families after being widowed, divorced, or abandoned by their husbands. About 9% of a random sample of sex workers in the Sonagachi “red light” area stated that they entered the profession voluntarily.

Source: http://www.ucghi.universityofcalifornia.edu/docs/womens-health/hiv-prevention-among-sex-workers-in-india.pdf

And so...here we are...part of your mango community...who counts us? Do we really count?

Piano Man of Kolkata

I don’t know his name. I am not sure if any of us does. He is one of those most insignificant mango people in Kolkata. He works in Braganza’s music store and can play almost all musical instruments impeccably. Apart from selling the instruments, he will entertain you with music for hours. If you hum a Rabindra Sangeet, he is sure to play it on the piano. Take your chance and sing any classic Bengali number, he will surprise you with the musical accompaniment.

When he plays, he doesn't look at you. It seems as if he is engrossed in his music. If you try and strike up a conversation, he will humbly tell you that he has never learnt music. It is all a gift of the job he has with the store. For years, he has been with the store, selling stuff…and, more than that, cherishing the music that he spreads all around.

I don’t know how much he earns. I am not sure if his children are well nourished and educated. I don’t know if his wife has ever heard of the brand names common in the malls. I can’t tell if he even knows the technical jargon of the music he plays. But he sure seems happy.

Kudos to you, mango man, for keeping up the spirit of life!

Auto Woes

To begin with, let's talk about autos. I don't know about other states. but since I live in Delhi, let's talk about it. I stay in a place near Saket, one of the richest South Delhi areas. But our place is mostly inhabited by migrants (and thankfully, we still do not have any Raj Thakreys hooting us out). A narrow road full of shops leads to our residential area. Since people in Delhi believe in multiple traffic lines and since there is no traffic police (at least in real life irrespective of what is there on papers), there is always a huge traffic jam. So, even when you try to get an auto to take you home from a place that is about 1.5 Kms away, the autowallahs would either refuse to go or charge at least four times what the meter reading would be. We, Delhities, are used to it. But think about it...although the auto fares have been raised and the police and administration is well aware of this fact, every time, we end up spending four times more than what we should really pay.

People with big, fat salaries and stretched cars will not even realize the trauma that we face everyday. But for us, mango people, aam admi (and aurat, to be precise), how do we feel each time we are refused, standing helplessly on the road side? The police complaint numbers are useless...since no auto driver is afraid of the same. Maybe they too have their own story to tell. But right now, I want to tell out story...middle class mango people.

Will Anna Hazare's Lokpal Bill put an end to this? If not, what will? I don't want to accept "buying your own car" as an option even if I have the choice to do so. What will improve this?