Hunger and malnutrition: Why is India in denial?

 

https://healthonair.in/columns/hunger-and-malnourishment-why-is-india-in-denial/

As per the UN’s Sustainable Development Goal (SDG) number two – ‘zero hunger’ – all forms of hunger and malnutrition in the world should end by 2030 so that no one suffers from ill health due to insufficient nutrition. The goal also requires addressing different forms of hunger and malnutrition, such as stunting and wasting among under-5 children, as well as anemia in adolescent girls, pregnant, and lactating women, and older persons, with a strong focus on improving their nutrition levels significantly by 2025. Stunting occurs when a child is too short for their age due to chronic malnutrition while wasting indicates low weight for their height, typically caused by acute malnutrition.

A key tool for measuring progress toward these goals is the Global Hunger Index (GHI) Report. Released recently, it revealed that India has the highest rate of child wasting globally, at 18.7 percent. It ranked India at 111th place out of 125 countries. However, India’s reaction to the report was characterized by denial and indifference. Minister of Women and Child Development of India, Smriti Irani, ridiculed and dismissed the report by calling its methodology “flawed”. What was never discussed by the government, however, was that if there was indeed no hunger or deprivation among people of this country, then why extend the Pradhan Mantri Garib Kalyan Anna Yojana (PMGKAY) for a period of five years with effect from 1st January, 2024?

The PMGKAY aims to provide free food to 81.35 crore people, which is more than half of the Indian population. Interestingly, this free provisioning of food for the next five years is not being presented as an acceptance of criticism of the government’s welfare schemes, but as a display of ‘sensitivity’ of the political leadership.

More recently, Minister of State for Health SP Singh Baghel said on the floor of the Parliament that not a single hunger-related death has occurred in the country in the last ten years. On another occasion, a minister from the Hemant Soren-led government in Jharkhand made a statement in the state assembly that there have been no starvation deaths in the state. Just within a matter of a few months of that statement in 2021, the Jharkhand High Court took suo moto cognizance of three alleged starvation deathsin the same family after the media reported the news. Following a court-mandated investigation by the Jharkhand State Legal Services Authority, it was revealed that individuals had to trek eight kilometres to obtain rations, while access to clean water and healthcare services remained scarce and challenging. The HC held up the state government for running welfare services ‘on paper’ and condemned starvation deaths as a matter of shame. Similarly, starvation deaths have recently been reported in various other states such as Odisha, and West Bengal among others.

The Ministry of Health and Family Welfare’s own NFHS-V data also points in the direction of overall poor nutritional indicators. For instance, it shows a dramatic rise in the number of children suffering from anemia when compared to data from NFHS-IV. More specifically, anemia has risen not just in children below six years of age, it has also increased among adolescent girls and boys, among women who are pregnant, and those in the age group of 15-49 years. Almost half of our population is anemic which is a matter of grave concern. Moreover, the prevalence of anemia among adolescent girls (59.1 percent) inevitably contributes to anemia among new mothers. This, in turn, serves as a contributing factor to anemia among newborns, maternal and infant mortality rates, and overall community morbidity due to iron deficiency. Unfortunately, the government will not be collecting data on prevalence of anemia in the sixth round of NFHS. Further, a more careful analysis of the NFHS-V data shows that stunting and severe wasting of under-5 children has actually increased in 11 and 13 out of 17 states respectively. The proportion of children who are underweight has also increased in 11 out of 17 states.

Following the GHI controversy, the Ministry of Women and Child Development issued a press release attributing the poor ranking to ‘malafide intent.’  The release spoke at length about India’s present nutrition-related programs – the Mission Saksham Anganwadi and Poshan 2.0, the Poshan Tracker, Pradhan Mantri Garib Kalyaan Anna Yojana and Antyodaya Anna Yojna etc. – and how India runs the world’s largest food security program and so on.

However, many public health and nutrition experts have already pointed out that irrespective of the size of the Indian food security programme, its basic flaws must be acknowledged and considered seriously if it is going to be implemented effectively and sustainably. First, the PDS system largely covers the poor and vulnerable population based on the outdated 2011 Census so a large number of households has been missed. The number of people who have increased within the existing households is still not officially counted as ‘beneficiaries’ yet. Besides, not all beneficiaries have a ration and/or aadhar card to be able to freely access the PDS. Secondly, our granaries overflow with food grains, they rot, get damaged in transit, and get exported but the intended beneficiaries from the poor and vulnerable sections of the population are unable to access and consume ration from the PDS conveniently, particularly women and girl children due to social and gender inequalities.

Adding nutritionally rich fruits and vegetables to the PDS system is also challenging due to storage issues for instance. Incorporating eggs in to midday meals has been a long-standing point of contention due to concerns about hurting religious sentiments. Only some states have been able to introduce daily eggintake for their high protein and vitamin content.

Moreover, the cereals provided within the PDS are usually wheat and rice, which are heavy on carbohydrate content. Focusing just on increasing and ensuring calorie intake will not make up for the other long-term nutritional deficiencies experienced by people. To cover up for this lacuna, nutritionally rich coarse grains (millets) have also been added to the PDS food basket by some states, and doing that has thrown its own set of challenges. In states where millets are included in the PDS, only a limited number of varieties are promoted for cultivation. This contrasts with the increasing prices of other millet species in urban markets, making them expensive even for city dwellers. Additionally, popular millet types like bajra, jowar, and ragiare being prioritized as major cash crops for export, which further limits their availability for domestic consumption.

The recent claims by Niti Aayog regarding poverty reduction just before elections seem to gloss over the persistent issues of chronic hunger and malnutrition in India. While Niti Aayog asserts significant poverty reduction and promising progress towards meeting SDG goal one (‘no poverty’) before time, experts have raised valid concerns about the accuracy of these claims. To address the persistent issues of hunger and malnutrition – which is SGD goal two, and is closely related with SDG goal one – we need to acknowledge their existence and interlinkages first. Unfortunately, what we often observe instead is a troubling silence and denial regarding these problems.

Reflections

Dear Diary,

I was re-reading an earlier entry where I have been able to perceive the goodness of a new workplace so quickly whereas the hard-hitting, complicated, 'grey stuff' that people's personalities (including my own) are made of came out through the following months of close engagement.  Quite amazingly, I seemed to know even then that this could be 'the perfect honeymoon phase' and that it could get over soon (and it did!) leaving behind a list of learnings from the overall experience. What's more interesting for me is that as I look back I realise how a human mind or human condition is wired quite predictably for most of the people I know. Most of us tend to choose fear over love by default, and most of us forget to forgive and love ourseleves before we think we can forgive others... Anyway, a lot has happened since we parted ways. A lot of water has flown under the bridge and it's time to now share some good news and move forward, slowly but surely.

I changed my kid's school (yayie :) ) from a mainstream one to an alternative one. This was a very important and sensitive decision that I was able to take thanks to the exposure that good friends and the media have afforded me in today's day and age. This is not to say that one is less grateful to my kid's last school that unwittingly taught us lessons for life and some people there have been exceptioanlly kind to us also, but the new school has a far better teacher:student ratio. That is the need of the hour for my child and any other small child also for that matter. 

As this change begins to settle in all its dimensions, I feel that small children generally deserve more considered time of all the elders in their lives especially from the parents and teachers, and especially when they are beginning to comprehend the world that they are born in. Not only my child and I are able to spend more quality time with each other now, we have both graduated into developing a more solid understanding of each other in the last ten days. 

In other words, we seem to have freed ourselves from the pressures of rote learning and coming first (in grade one!)... We have done ourselves a favour and freed ourselevs from mugging up words and re-producing them in impeccable handwriting at breakneck speed in the class room. My child doesn't have a great handwriting right now, and it's ok because he is too small for that kind of pressure but his grades and class work speed both have improved dramatically in the recent past (in his earlier school). Despite prioritising rote learning over everything else that a balanced childhod should be made of, I felt his academic progress was not emphasised or lauded as much in class. He was often made to feel 'lacking' something, in one way or another, through the complaints of his teachers in his notebooks - always looking for a 'perfectly completed CW' but not actually knowing how to really help each child with conceptual clarity (perhaps because they are so many children per teacher among other reasons). So at the end of a hard day, neither my child nor I felt fulfilled or happy irrespective of the long man hours going into study-time. My effort at home with say trying to teach him maths through concrete examples was being mis-matched at school through a hurried approach considering there is the huge syllabus to be covered and the pressure on everyone involved in this kind of a mainstream educational system. 

But now, by God's kind grace, at least all this pressure has been lifted off. We can finally breathe better through the day, pace it slowly and don't need to prioritise memorizing lessons over play time and nap time, especially during 'examinations' and pre-pre-tests before that. I am a product of that system and I remember now how I sufferred through it for some pieces of medals that just hang in some dark corner of my cupboard today. But our parents had no alternatives that were easily available to them so I thank them with all my heart for bringing us up the way they did. It is only through that lens that today I was able to decide what will be a more suitable exposure for my child, more suitable for his age and need. I feel bad for my other co-parents who feel these observations are 'not valid' or I am being 'extra sensitive' as most people choose the convenient, mainstream path. Some of these parents also believe that they are not doing enough, or they are a 'bad parent' so they would rather hire private tutors in primary school than think that something is wrong with the fundamental way we approach educating our children. I am not surprised why such young children crumble under this kind of a performance pressure these days, and we know from media reports the extreme and unfortunate ways in which they do. Parents also feel the heat of experiences of children at school, from mild to extreme in nature.

For now I believe that as a parent, this is yet another honeymoon period ( :) ) that we are going through here at the new school. That we must continue to engage with this alternative educational model as well in every detail so that we can maximise our holistic learning experiences here irrespective of the imperfections of the human nature, including our own. 

Here is to provocation!

I woke up generally provoked today morning, and I feel good about it. "I feel alive", if I may put it dramatically. It's been a long time since a senior colleague (at my new office) told me that she was, or at least could be, 'a badass' if someone called for it (in those words). I absolutely love that now, don't I? In my little head, it is akin to a show of strength, confidence, an unapologetic feminist bias, and a heart generally rooted in humanity, even compassion, all of that with a SERIOUS FOCUS ON WORK OUTPUT. In fact, I have a hunch that everything that meets the eye here could very well be a thought out strategy to ensure that the job gets done well... because ultimately, that is what matters most to thorough professionals.  

So after two days at the new office, where the work culture seems quite liberating... where everyone seems to study, struggle, work and grow-up together (by together I mostly mean simultaneously)... There is an emphasis on consistent engagement or dialogue with colleagues. I believe it is a great exercise because the energies of people in the same team get channelised in one direction eventually, making its output as effective as it could get. There seems to be an authenticity to it. It's like having bittersweet chocolate. And that's the favour I love best. It's real.

My colleagues come across as complex people, comfortable in their skin, nearly sure of their intention which is the highlight for me here, besides the approaching deadlines as has been quickly drilled into my head 😂. Most of the people, at least those that I have met, could have chosen alternative professions too, for instance, they could have become good teachers, motivational speakers, even counsellors... they are so good, each with a multiple skill-set. 

Have just been enjoying and appreciating the company I have found myself in in the past few days. If this is the honeymoon period, can only hope it lasts longer.

Anyway, dear diary (or blog), that's largely the vibe I got at the new office that I also wanted to register here because it probably means more to me than I can comprehend right now (too pressed for time).  Besides receiving a comforting vibe, I also got to eat good food here 😋. There was potluck on the first day so one was spoilt for choice. My favourite, however, was soya bean chilli and cake. 

In the end, all I can say is that the sweetness neutralised the chilli. 

🍻

Photo credit: Rupa Prasad

Reflections

It is amazing how I stopped sharing my journey here, for so many years altogether... Last time I wrote here was in August 2019, which is roughly around the same time as this year. Back then, I was researching topics under the broad rubric of public health for a media channel whose politics was progressive, even radical at times, and to that extent, liberating. The channel ran into a deep financial crisis and many people had to look for other options, including me.

Coming back to the hiatus, this break from the writing scene was not just at an academic level, it seems like the gap allowed me to get overwhelmed by a personal journey of health-seeking and soul searching about the important things of life. I have taken a good amount of time to reflect and now want to start this conversation here. 

Cheers to the possibilities!

:) 

Here Comes The Good Old 1990s

http://www.hardnewsmedia.com/2019/05/here-comes-good-old-1990s

Shaweta Anand, New Delhi

It was not that long ago when family conversations still happened face-to-face as opposed to compulsive ‘connecting’ through WhatsApp or Facebook, and when summer vacation was still that much-anticipated time of the year for children to spend frolicking with cousins and grandparents. Growing up in ‘that era’, just before the effects of a rapidly globalising world converted the species of human beings into unabashed, pompous consumers, when the relatively unpretentious lifestyle of the Indian middle classes enabled more contentment in less. That era forms the backdrop of a well-crafted, hugely acclaimed mini- web series of 2018 – Yeh Meri Family – made by TVF Originals.

Acclaimed director Sameer Saxena, an IIT-Mumbai alumnus and chief content officer of TVF Originals at ‘The Viral Fever’ (TVF), initially found no buyers for this kind of family-based content that had no sex or violence to appeal to the ‘unintelligent’ youth. This prompted the team to produce their own material, eventually launch their own online channels, and write their own success stories with a stroke of luck, or divine providence, whatever you might like to call it.

Megastar Shah Rukh Khan, who was recently in news for the denial of an honorary doctorate by the Union HRD ministry, endorsed TVF’s work in their initial struggling period. He agreed to be their first guest on the rib-tickling web show: ‘Barely Speaking with Arnub’. This garnered the group instant visibility, and the rest, as they say, is history.

A host of other public figures like Delhi Chief Minister Arvind Kejriwal, also an IITian, celebrities like Nawazuddin Siddiqui, Anil Kapoor and Sunny Leone, among others, also appeared on the same show subsequently lending its content further credibility. There is a whole bunch of other very successful video-on-demand (VOD) content made by the same group – The Permanent Roommates, (India’s first web series), Pitchers (the only Indian show to be rated higher than Friends and House of Cards) and Tripling, to name a few.

Coming back to TVF’s Yeh Meri Family, this particular web series caught my attention because it took me back to a time when life moved at a much slower pace compared to today’s vacuous jet-set-go age. When it was possible to be hard-working, successful and still live restfully at home without any need to repeatedly escape to meditation retreats. There was sufficient mental space to relish all kinds of experiences as a family, mostly of the uplifting variety, as far as this series is concerned. Like gorging on whole mangoes and making a cheerful mess out of it during peak summers, or taking turns to fill the desert cooler and watering the plants.      

The 1990s was a time when some siblings still played with each other and not with smartphones. Parents still sat together in the evening, leisurely chatting over a cup of tea with sweet ghazals playing on a tape recorder in the background; something that reminds me of the low-key evenings at JNU dhabas where young adults could choose to share a warm human vibe over tea, including informed agreements and disagreements.

Coming back to the web series, interestingly, the younger sister of the main protagonist – 12-year-old Harshu -- gets nicknamed ‘Chitthi’ because their father loves the ghazal ‘Chitthi aayi hai’ by Pankaj Udhas. He believes that his daughter is like a chitthi (letter) that got delivered late in their lives (literally!). Various episodes of this series depict life largely through the eyes of pre-teen Harshu – brilliantly portrayed by Vishesh Bansal – and his partner-in-crime, Shanky, his ‘topper’ classmate who offers him advice beyond his age some times, for instance, when he quotes examples from the Gita or tries to inspire Harshu by using Bryan Adam’s reflections about the ‘Summer of 69’. From detailed suggestions about impressing girls in class – hum Whigfield songs in their presence as opposed to Devang Patel’s music, ‘pattyban desi pakoda mat ban’ – or ways to win back the coveted Hulk Hogan trump card from dominating elder brother Dabbu, the character of Shanky is always brimming with ideas.

Once he also helped Harshu in secretly planning his 13th birthday celebration by arranging movie tickets for him and his friends. It is a different matter that a sulking Harshu ended up dancing awkwardly to disco numbers by Bappi Lahiri to entertain guests at home that day, on his parent’s insistence (‘chalo, uncle ko nach ke dikhao’). His mother – played by seasoned actress Mona Singh – unaware of Harshu’s secret movie plan, organises an elaborate birthday party at home with balloon and crape paper decorations, mouth-watering home-made snacks and a simple cake (possibly pineapple). She invites the entire neighbourhood to celebrate. Even though his personal movie plan had failed, Harshu ends up having an exceptionally satisfying birthday experience when Vidhya – the girl he has a massive crush on – also turns out to be one of the invitees. Wonder if his parents would have pampered Chitthi like that as a teenager, egging her on to dance with a boy of her choice in front of the entire neighbourhood.

On a different note, it is rather heart-warming to see the children listen to music on a good old walkman through the episodes, or refer to games like Ludo, Saanp Sidi, and Mario, in their daily banter. It is equally appealing to see Chitthi mimic her favourite class teacher or when she hides in ‘her cave’ under the bed with Harshu. That is their favourite spot in the house where they blissfully enact scenes from TV serial Shaktiman using stuffed animals. Chitthi remains the undefeated Bournvita-milk champion of the family because she always empties her glass first. The series is rich with such relatable and precious moments that ordinary middle-class households could afford in the 1990s.

While the younger siblings are mostly occupied with light and fun activities, older brother Dabbu is shown exploring his sexuality when he clandestinely purchases adult magazines with his pocket money or watches Fashion TV at midnight, probably the maximum he could push himself to view at the time. The pressure of coaching and clearing engineering exams in his context is also touched upon but not pursued in detail, considering it is a burning concern for the urban youth today.

The fact that the boys try to find patterns and some predictable parental behavior is comical at times and also triggers nostalgia. For instance, in one episode, Harshu is quite upset after his parents pick up a shrill fight on a Sunday morning, especially during his favourite hour of Tailspin and Duck Tales, effectively ruining his telly time. As the gloomy parents walk away into different rooms, all the household chores remain undone, including cooking, making way for mango pickle, Hajmola, bread-jam and ‘extreme’ hunger. Finally, Chitthi brings them together using her endearing ways. Overall, all the actors in the series pack quite a punch, episode after episode, keeping the viewers honestly engaged and candidly amused.

The makers have gone into painful details to create the 1990s feel in today’s age of branded products, obsessive WhatsApp and virtual, isolating online addiction. For instance, all the actors wear modest, non-branded clothes at home – either a simple white vest paired with old-style pants or loose t-shirts and jeans for the males (hand-me-downs for Harshu), while the mother wears nice saris sans much jewelry inside or outside home. Oddly, she wore an average-looking suit to a wedding with dark lipstick to show she came prepared, while the father wore a nice kurta pyjama matched with an expensive, silken red jacket; slight mismatch there.

The day when the children are trying to appease their parents, particularly their mother, the boys draw out a detailed list of all the exhausting chores that she uncomplainingly and unfailingly performs every day, and, yet, when it comes to choosing a role model, somehow, only the father-figure appears to be in the race for ‘coolness’

Anyway, overall, minute details have been considered while filming the series to bring on the right feel. Like the Parle Kismi bar that Chitthi nibbles on as opposed to say Lotte Choco Pie, the typical green-coloured landline phone, frequent power cuts, the steel water filter inside the kitchen instead of the modern day Eureka Forbes water purifier, an old-style cathode ray tube television set, a bulky desktop and so on. The eatery the family frequents for dinner is no big restaurant, but a decent dhaba run by the Pritams, and not by MNCs like McDonalds, KFC, Pizza Hut or Dominoes. The dialogue and music refer to films like DDLJ, 1942:A Love Story, Raja Hindustani, Ram Lakhan etc. At one point Harshu refers to an old Dhara oil ad in Chitthi’s context as she also runs away like the boy in the ad, and upon her safe return (thanks to benevolent acquaintances), everyone gets treated to Maggi and tasty samosas on the same Sunday, when no food has been made at home.

Having admired the web series for bringing back the naiveté of childhood days experienced in ordinary yet privileged middle class homes of the ’90s, one is also compelled to observe the subtle reinforcement of patriarchal moors and gender stereotypes in the family. For instance, the day when the children are trying to appease their parents, particularly their mother, the boys draw out a detailed list of all the exhausting chores that she uncomplainingly and unfailingly performs every day, and, yet, when it comes to choosing a role model, somehow, only the father-figure appears to be in the race for ‘coolness’.

This, when he seems casual in approach towards family life, in comparison to the mother for whom family-care is more than a full-time job. For instance, he often forgets to bring home the right vegetables, or comes home late despite promising otherwise, forgets Harshu is in class 8 (not 6), confuses the names of the boys’ friends (addresses Dabbu’s friend as Shanky), calls Chitthi ‘bewakoof’ and ‘ma pe gayi hai’ etc. The series casually reinforces stereotypical notions about ‘mom roles’ and ‘dad roles’ by not offering critical questioning of disrespect for women’s intellect that usually starts in the private domain of the home. For instance, Harshu predicts his mother’s pet dialogues when she is feeling let down and angry, copying her and making her lows sound frivolous, or, at best, entertaining.

Intriguingly, the makers have firmly stuck to Harshu’s worldview as it steers away from giving any political commentary on all the serious events that the country was immersed in throughout the 1990s – the time period Yeh Meri Family represents and not just the summer of 1998. Most of the other media-related material referred to in the series – ads, TV serials, films, music etc., fall within this decade. Due to deliberate focus on the pre-teen’s supposed IQ, the makers isolate this family and keep it emotionally indulged inwards, as if it is an apolitical unit living in a cocoon.

This includes the father who reads the newspaper, while the radio gives only cricket commentaries, even though it marks a decade of the rise of the BJP post the demolition of the Babri Masjid and the nation-wide bloodshed followed by the Ayodhya riots. The violence had sharply polarised Indian society and left deep, unhealed scars for the politicians to play upon for decades afterwards. There is indeed a murmur in the series about ‘moderate’ prime minister Atal Behari Vajpayee, but, he still carried out the nuclear tests as a boastful, chest-thumping, war-mongering hyperbole that was subsequently followed by the Kargil war with Pakistan.

As my final take, although the series leaves one feeling very upbeat about the life that was (or was possible) during the yesteryears, still, in the heart of hearts, it feels that some important content is missing, even if a twelve-year-old is the main protagonist. For instance, an episode exploring social dynamics with the labourer whitewashing their walls (hypothetically Muslim or Dalit), or an episode with neighbours from different religions and castes after they are invited to the birthday party at home, might have provided the perfect excuse to explore these real social issues and how these things could impact children growing up in that age.

The 1990s was a time when siblings still played with each other and not with smart phones. Parents still sat together, leisurely chatting over a cup of tea with sweet ghazals playing on a tape recorder; something that reminds me of the low-key evenings at JNU dhabas where students could share a warm human vibe over tea, including informed agreements and disagreements

This point needs emphasis because whether we like it or not, besides the good things of life, teenage children also internalise messages of fear and hatred towards ‘the other’ during these formative years, unless they are made to deconstruct these messages and internalise qualities of brotherhood and oneness instead. The 1990s was a time of great political upheaval in this country and this aspect remains largely untouched in the web series, as if the external environment did not impinge upon this family at all. In my view, this is a fair expectation from the makers of this series as they come across as refreshingly creative, sensitive and open-hearted when it comes to sketching their characters. After all, this was not just the time when Harshu, Dabbu and Chitthi were growing up in the Gupta household, it was also the same time when the seniors of late Rohith Vemula were trying to figure out right from wrong, or wise from the unwise.

Press release on 'bal sunwai' (public hearing by children) on Right to Education Act on 26 December 2013

More than 500 underprivileged children from various parts of the city gathered at D Block, New Seemapuri today to articulate their grievances against MCD schools and schools run by the Delhi government in a first-of-its-kind ‘bal sunwai’ (public hearing conducted by children). The theme of the sunwai was improper implementation of the Right to Education Act 2009 (RTE) that promises compulsory quality education to children between the age-group of 6-14 years that too free of cost, without any need of documents at the time admission along with provision of school uniform and  books from the side of the government.

In a thickly attended three-hour session, children brought out the difficulties faced by them at school and how helpless their situation gets when it comes to asking for their rights from authority figures, both in and outside school. Children came from places as far as Bawana, Kalkaji, Govindpuri, Kalyanpuri, Badli, Old Seemapuri, New Seemapuri, Rangpur Pahadi, Zafarabad and Sunder Nagari for the sunwai, many of them escorted by their parents.

Shahrukh, a resident of New Seemapuri, complained about how he became unconscious for a few hours and got temporary hearing loss when his teacher, who is a habituated to beating children with a stick, hit him for no reason. He is from the Government Boys Senior Secondary School, J & K Block, Dilshad Garden. Another student complained about how his teachers constantly spoke on mobile phones or just chit-chatted in the staff room instead of taking classes. “When we approach them and demand them to teach us, they shoe us away by saying that netagiri mat karo, chup chap class main baitho,” said Sohail. Teachers showering children with the choicest abuses at the slightest of pretext is another very common experience as shared by many students.

Another boy Sajid complained about his teacher, who prefers to get drunk and sit in the staff room instead of teaching. He is from Government Boys Senior Secondary School, New Seemapuri.  Arun from Government Boys Senior Secondary School Nand Nagari protested, “When we speak up and complain about poor infrastructure in writing, teachers discourage us by threatening us and our parents with cancelling our admission or reducing our grades, so what option do we have other than quietly embracing all the ill-treatment and deprivation of our rights?” 

Kanchan from Sarvodaya Kanya Vidyalaya, New Seemapuri, was angry about safety of girl students. “When we are travelling back from school, boys, who should be inside classrooms in the second shift, stand outside and tease us daily. When we complained to the principal about it, she brushed it aside as if it was a non-issue,” she said.

Chandni, another student from the same school, complained how the teacher made them run around for locating darris to sit on, many times for two periods out of eight! “We try to make arrangements for our own seating instead of studying at school. We have to sit on floor whether in cold winters, hot summers or wet monsoons. How many children can tolerate these hardships continuously?” she questioned. Shehzadi from Sarvodaya Kanya Vidyalaya, E Block, Nand Nagari exposed the level of difficulty faced by children at school when she shared how her teacher asked her to pick a broom and clean the toilets if she felt they were smelly and unusable.

Regarding admission-related issues, Samina, a parent, shared how she ran around for about two years to get her child admitted to school. “We are illiterate and don’t know our rights so the school takes advantage of that and makes unnecessary demands from us to find excuses to refuse our children education,” she said. Shahana, another parent, recollected how only one of her five children got admission to the government school after she ran from pillar to post, that too in class one when her daughter should have been in class five. Her admission was based on a relative’s residence proof despite RTE stipulating that no such documents were required for admission to any child before the age of 14 years.

Another boy Sohail from Bawana complained about how he was forced to dirty water from the school water cooler by his teacher that gave him typhoid. Another student shared how girls in her class have a harrowing time dealing with their teachers, who pull their hair routinely and call them ‘characterless’ based on their own mood swings. “It depresses us no end,” she said. 

In the case of children from New Seemapuri resettlement colony, which is the only minority district of Delhi, there are only four government schools they can approach, two schools under the MCD and two under the Delhi Government. This implies that on an average, 100-125 children get stifled into one classroom. “There is a very disproportionate distribution of resources in such a densely populated area. More schools must be provided along with basic infrastructural facilities like clean toilets, clean drinking water, classrooms that have desks and chairs and a committed teaching staff to fulfill the promise of quality education under the RTE,” said Ritu Mehra, co-founder of Pardarshita.

The sunwai was attended by Chairperson of National Commission for Minorities (NCM) Wajahat Habibullah, member of Delhi Commission for Protection of Child Rights (DCPCR) Mamta Sahai, former advisor of the National Commission for Protection of Child Rights and founder of Artha-Astha Radhika Alkazi, Convener of National Right to Education Forum Amrish Rai and many other NGO representatives working on the issue of child rights.

In the opinion of Sahai, since DCPCR is a quasi-judicial body with restricted powers, probably a PIL would make authorities more responsible and accountable while discharging their duties towards children. “If children give us their complaints in writing, we would do everything we can to resolve them,” she promised. Rajiv, founder Pardarshita, however exclaimed that till the time a mechanism for time-bound case disposal at DCPCR is evolved, children’s right to education can never be ensured as precious time gets wasted in paper-work stretching for months, sometimes years.

Shri Habibullah, however sounded more positive. He said that Commissions do have powers of a civil court so cases regarding discrimination of specific communities including violation of their RTE should be brought to their notice and they would certainly take cognizance of the same.

Learning to become secular...

Holi hai!!

Happy Easter!

Silent peace march from Mandi House to Jantar Mantar

Yesterday was an eventful day in many ways. It started with a meeting with a yoga and naturopathy doctor at the close-by government-run yoga and natural cure centre. On our way back home, news spread about the loss of the gang rape victim in Singapore. So the day ended with thoughts about the girl and how different people responded to her journey to death. Some even believe she had passed away much earlier and that a scared government was trying to evade from telling the truth in a timely way.

Anyway, what was equally meaningful for me was how my brother responded to the whole situation. My brother is a software engineer by training, who is thankfully less of a 'professional activist' than what JNU is infamous for producing (irregardless of political affiliation). So i tend to give merit to his opinion because i know that his head is less cloudy than mine. He is more directly connected with his inner voice as there is no obvious reason why he should 'sound in a particular way' to meet his own pre-set agendas. His job is to create software and he does a decent job out of it while choosing where to involve himself whereas i over-react many times (let me accept it), cry hoarse and take to heart  almost each and every event that happens in my immediate surrounding. If you think further, as if there is nothing better to do :), there is 'good' and 'bad' in both life choices, anyway.

So, he volunteered to drive me to the peace march yesterday, and expressed his willingness to participate in the march, his first, despite having a forever-in-protest-mode sister like me. 

Photos credit Rahul

Due to  lack of parking space, and my eager, bony a.. just dying to jump out of the moving vehicle in solidarity with the peacefully marching crowd on the other side of the road, we decided to drop me off right there. (Had been a while since i participated in any protest march so was itching to step on familiar ground. Was 'bed-bound' earlier in hospital or was physically removed to an Ashram in Meerut for subsequent therapy post typhoid). My brother was supposed to meet me at any point during the march after parking his car. So his much anticipated participation depended upon availability of parking space! How silly...?!

Two of my centre seniors welcomed me in the long queue on the left side of the road. So i walked with the crowd, without any banner or shouting any slogan, just in a quiet, silent way, the way it was meant to be perhaps. There was mild tension among people carrying cameras, who were trying to click photographs of every moment while themselves sidestepping it (!). They were desperately trying to capture every small movement to encash the 'best shot' later. Talk about competitive photography or media coverage at such events. Some one can very rightly point out that i have done a lot of this too so should drop the righteous face, well i am trying to :). After all, that is the reason why i can easily sense the anxiety behind the constant clicking of shutterbugs, the agendas behind various angles, what gets clicked and what gets cut out of the frame. Most of us know that a photograph first gets clicked in the head just like an article first gets conceptualised in the mind.

While we walked through the traffic exchanging brief updates about recent whereabouts interrupting our own silence, to our embarrassment, a differently-abled lady became a constant centre of attraction for most with cameras. It was as if that lady 'should have' been doing something else, considering her 'condition' BUT, she is so brave or has an extraordinary heart that she came out in protest on her battery-run wheelchair. We don't know what it is to get photographed like that but we did continue getting embarrassed for the lady till quite some time. For all we know she may have been enjoying the extra attention or would be so used to it by now! Her level of comfort in that environment suggested that she too was most likely a 'professional', a rehearsed activist in all probability, who most likely knew her way  around better than others.

In the mean time, my brother had reached Jantar Mantar and was thrown in the midst of a typical  activist environment, with people carrying banners on both sides, police battalions ready for some ugly play in anticipation. When our group was beginning to converge with the larger group present there, i called him to know his location. He just told me how he was wondering why he came there at all! What were some of the activists doing there, competing with each other in terms of who shouted the 'most appropriate' slogan, how many times, whether s/he was followed by an adequate number in rehearsed chorus and at what decibel level? Was that the reason why people do 'peaceful' activism, especially in memory of someone who had to face such a tragic end, my brother wondered. Of course i figured this out by interpreting the pauses and intonations he offered as he disappointingly spoke.

All four of us decided to be on the 'left' side of the group and sat down quietly on the road to offer silent condolences and to absorb the vibration of the place. Unfortunately and frequently, we were disturbed by what we saw or was it our own mind that created the way we viewed unfolding scenarios. Even in supposed moments of mourning, there was constant restlessness among many as they jostled for visibility in front of TV crew or journalists. Not naming names (there is no point in doing that), but one knows workings of familiar faces from organisations and one can't help but observe the often repeated drama. After playing this role in the field, there is competition about who circulates photographs first or writes an e-note about the event first. As expected, before i reached home, news had already started flooding my inbox. Of course i relate to all this because i have been there and done that too. 

My point is to say that yesterday, other than remembering to pray several times for the gang rape victim, i could see more clearly the spaces people choose to occupy publicly. One could pray silently and generate love and goodwill for the departed soul at home, or one could also partially or fully indulge in calculating how to take mileage out of 'the event'. Anyway, to each his own. 

Well, writing this blog post is not any better than what the 'professionals' were doing at Jantar Mantar. Signing off on that note.

Angels all the way!

A lot has happened with Angels of 'My Angels Academy' between May-December 2012. Here's a pictorial update of what all these kids have been up to. Apologies for the delay in posting.

On 13th May 2012, Angels won a championship for the first time by defeating six elite football academies in the under-15 category! Two Angels-Sonu and Anand-were named 'best players' of the tournament.  UK's Manchester United Soccer Club had organised and sponsored this tournament making this victory a historical moment for Angels. Some photos from the tournament.

 

Angels' story got included in a tea-table book as part of the 'India Awakened' Series 2012, an initiative of the Hindustan Times and Tata Tea. The book comprises real-life stories of heroes who have fought odds to follow their dreams. It was launched by Rural Development Minister Jairam Ramesh at Taj Hotel on 4th June 2012. Some photos from the event.

 

...Sylvester with social activist Aruna Roy.

 

MERRY CHRISTMAS!

Angels participating in a three-day Tap (ideal dietary system)-Seva (sharing)-Sumiran (meditation) residential camp at Badari Narayan Sevagram, Meerut from 23-25 December 2012. Some moments. 

 

(Photo credit: Pravin)

Please also visit Google plus link by Vikas: https://plus.google.com/photos/107992309307021017349/albums/5826971031704432449?sqi&sqsi

Pyar ka parantha

In the last week of May 2012, I was diagnosed with typhoid fever. For one whole month, I was heavily relying on antibiotics, was even admitted to hospital twice, once to cure typhoid and once to deal with subsequently acquired acid peptic disease (later became a form of Gastro Esophageal Reflux Disease (GERD) leading to dramatic weight-loss). Simply put, by the end of July 2012, I had acute constipation, heartburn, a lot of acidity, insomnia, and gradually my food pipe had swollen. Due to all this, even lying down and resting had become challenging. Often, stomach acid would get refluxed into the food pipe (instead of naturally flowing downwards) as the digestive and excretory systems had become weak at the base.

It had been two months since I had been running from one allopathic doctor to another, adding on Ayurvedic medicine to the list of all that I was taking. Even tried homeopathy and naturopathy briefly. Overall, we ended up spending about Rs 50,000/= on my treatment (could be more) besides slowly piling on hopelessness inside. To deal with the latter part, I (fortunately) invested heavily in spiritual literature too, thanks to ready references given by Dr. Subhash Sethi, who is an avid reader and a wonderful person to say the least. A medical doctor by training and a Vipassana meditation (www.dhamma.org) teacher by calling, he continues to be one of the most shining guiding lights for me. (God bless you Sir!)

Dr. Sethi distributes ‘Jeevani Shakti Kaise Jagaye’ free of cost to people in need. He also gave me a copy of the Hindi book. Desperate for something to work out and considering my trust in Dr. Sethi and the common Vipassana connection, I took to reading it, however unenthusiastically.

‘Food is not the source of energy’ was one of the first weird statements I came across. Here I was panic-stricken and fearing for the worst along with my family, as all I was taking were a few glasses of fruit juice daily. That was when I had to be hospitalized for positive ketones in the urine. (Medically, ‘positive ketones’ denote starvation of the body that appears only after a long fast. It is a trade mark of ‘professional’ activists ;), who sit for dharnas at the drop of a hat.)

Fortunately for me, Dr. Sethi helped me in making a raw food diet chart (mostly fruit-based) for the coming months, but for some reason, taking regular enema alongside wasn't an important consideration back then. July, August and September went in building trust in the new diet regime prescribed in the book but with apprehensions and fears regarding its success-rate. Allopathic and Ayurvedic medicines continued simultaneously till a realisation of uselessness of what i was consuming prompted me to quit all of them one fine day. I had had enough of 'foreign and chemical things' being forcibly added to my body that seemed to reject these superficial interventions at various levels.

I finally came to Badari Narayan Sevagram i.e. the Meerut Ashram of International Association for Scientific Spiritualism (IASS) in October first week, few days before their famous biannual navratra fasting camp. (They had published the book I was trying to follow since two-three months.) I was convinced of changing base because the atmosphere at home had become quite tense and depressing (for understandable reasons) and chances of recovery there seemed bleak as everyone seemed short of treatment options.

The one thing that was causing most fear in our collective consciousness was that despite best efforts of so many people, including the best, most expensive and experienced medical professionals, I kept losing weight progressively. I had reduced to 44.9 kgs at a height of 5 feet, 2.5 inches while last year, I was plump and pink at about 60 kgs. At that time, being plump was still a mark of being healthy and fit as opposed to being thin, but full of energy and vigour.

So here at the Ashram, Dr. Gopal Shastri gave me the most unusual prescription and allowed me to stay and understand what they term as ‘eashwariya chikitsa’ (divine cure) through the principles of tap (ideal dietary system), seva (cultivating habit of sharing with others whatever one possesses materially) and sumiran (meditation). Once I was mentally prepared to give it a shot, the next challenge was to send my parents home peacefully because obviously, they didn't want to leave me alone at a new place. Dr. Shastri, btw, is another spiritual, straightforward person, who deserves a lot of goodwill and blessings from all the beings he has generously helped. He has a knack for calling a spade a spade, which was the most important input at least for my healing. For instance, when we met, he immediately recognized where I was stuck at the mental level and advised accordingly.  His message was that 98 percent of our body is actually made up of the mind, so I should quit worrying about the remaining two percent! His constant courage and honest feedback about my progress gave me courage, pushing me forward consistently. His fearlessness and trust in 'God' ('Universe' for me, call it anything!) is from where I could generate mine, from where my parents derived some peace of mind too. God bless you! 

Having sent parents home and after finally finding my own space at the Ashram, the first thing to do was to eat regularly (no tea, coffee and sugar) within the prescribed schedule in the mess. That was quite daunting at first as doctors had well induced the fear of eating the ‘wrong’ kind of food post typhoid and GERD. Anyhow, as per the Ashram schedule, I got down to practicing ‘tap’ (the first principle comprising gradual rational fasting) by hardly eating anything till noon other than soaked dry fruits, green-leaf juice and vegetable soup during late morning. The first solid meal was fruits and vegetable salad (seasonal, always along with sprouted moong) by 1 pm followed by a small snack and herbal tea (comprises saunf, mulethi, elaichi, tulsi, ginger, milk etc.; it’s pink in colour and the powder is produced locally) at about 4 pm. Dinner was served at 8:30 pm where one could eat as much roti, sabji, dal and chawal.

You won’t believe the kind of things I ate here during this time. For evening snacks, I have had everything from samosa, bread pakora, vegetable patteez, to suji halwa and dhokla to besan ka cheela, pakode, kheer, poha, and kala chana. Guddu and Mohan bhaiya made all the dishes so well. By ‘well’, I mean they added oil and masala copiously so that the taste of whatever they were cooking would never get compromised :). So, any medical doctor would pull his hair out if he were told about the kind of things I was beginning to taste and slowly consume liberally post the kind of illness I was coming from. For the mainstream doctors, I must be crazy to leave all medicine, and start eating everything I have been told to stay away from! Of course within the raw-during-day and cooked-food-in-the-evening/night kind of dietary system, there was space for everything 'eatable'.

I only had the usual discomfort in the throat and at any time I would eat something, it was followed by some time spent sitting erect in meditation, watching the discomfort as much as possible. Was sleeping only once at night and for the rest of the day, was busily following activities according to the Ashram schedule.

There were regular morning-evening sittings in the meditation hall where audio-video discourse about Bhagwad Gita and Sri Ramcharitmanas was played towards the end, after sessions of meditation, daily prayer-recitation and reading texts from spiritual literature. Coming from the Vipassana tradition, I was of course selectively participating in whichever activity that I liked despite active attendance. For instance, I was not doing nam jap, mantra chanting or was singing bhajans, (bhakti yog I presume) not that anything is wrong with them! The good thing was that no one made me do anything either since they knew of my spiritual leaning from before. Interestingly, I find no clash between what Krishna or Shiv or Gautama Buddha preached :). It's all a question of interpretation I guess.

Anyway, apart from spending time chopping vegetables in the community kitchen, doing some work for their English magazine (called ‘Tap-Sewa-Sumiran’; website: http://www.tap-seva-sumiran.com/), knitting a blue pair of socks almost by myself and planning (later executing) a general all-Ashram children meeting, I really don’t know how all this time got spent.

My low blood pressure is almost normal, I feel more energetic now despite body weight that has stabalised around 45 kgs. Imagine, as part of my treatment, Dr. Gopal insisted that I learn to exert the body and mop and clean my room, which I started doing, of course gradually. Even beginning to iron my clothes on my own was a big deal. From being someone who sat confused, fearful and crippled on the bed at home, waiting for mummy to do all the chores for me to slowly growing into someone who is nearly self-sufficient, even blogging, it has certainly been a long, worthy journey.

It is tough to put into words the kind of things one saw and experienced here. Not only my fear vis-à-vis ‘the right food’ got largely dealt with, I started eating the normal-for-others-but-prohibited-for-me-kind of food as well. Doctors had instructed me to have boiled water daily after typhoid but here, I drink the regular ‘taaza pani’, straight from the tap, without using even a basic Aquaguard! Sometimes I wonder how much fear one gets used to living with…

This ‘vacation’ is going to end shortly, probably after the three-day children camp that concludes on Christmas. My six-month sick-leave period also ends in late December. Then I will be going back to college-life, picking up threads of PhD field-work from where I had left it in May, albeit slowly. I have learnt that hurrying to do anything is a very bad idea and trying to control life by desperately clinging to it (namely, our action and then its ‘planned’ outcome) is the worst, most-uncalled-for human tendency. Trying to slow down and trying to gradually cultivate trust in the Universe’s wisdom is a great way to experiencing one’s actions, and the gift of life, fully.

So much in between has changed, some things forever, fortunately. For instance, my relationship with those I love and value has developed positively is to say the least.

In terms of tasty food, what I am going to remember very fondly is the post-Satsang prasad (moong dal barfi, peda, tilbugga, gurh-til gachak; never tasted some of these before), Malti Ma’s warm gurh-shakarkandi, Shyama didi’s ‘world-famous’ doodh kulfi-treat (as per Ashram protocol, everyone is called either didi or bhaiya), Radha didi’s ghar ka bana saunth gurh and twin bread mithais, one dipped in gulab jamun chashni and the other called 'shahi toast' with condensed milk and coconut topping (unexpectedly yummy!), Shashi didi’s suji cheela and moong daal (she has given me many kaddu and locky-based food recipes yay!), Meera didi's specially prepared saunf gurh, Leelawati didi's tasty tulsi-adrak evening kadha/herbal chai, Kiran didi’s bathua-aloo parantha, mithi puri, atta and til-gurh laddoo and besan-coconut-til-barfi (she also taught me how to knit woolen socks :) ), Gudia didi’s stuffed idli, pakodi, and muli-saag parantha (we also spent time together working on the magazine), Harbhajan aunty’s aloo-gobi ki sabji and matar-wadi, and the ever-willing-to-help Durgesh didi’s hare pyaaz ki sabzi, aloo and gobi parantha. It is your love, patience and goodwill all through these three months that have got me so far, and of course, the blessed food of the Ashram.

Lots of love and wishes for you all. Have a great New Year!

(Photos:  https://plus.google.com/u/0/photos/113164685386219491475/albums/5803586938464049201).