My experience in India

My sister Anupama finished her Masters in Child Psychology from Mumbai before she got married. Now after several years of stay abroad, she returned to Pune,Indiain 2005 along with her family. There, she started working with her ex-teacher from her college - Meera. Together, they run an organization called “chugrad”. I know … it’s a weird name.

Anupama and Meera primarily focus on “kids”. I had been hearing bits and pieces of her work from her – you know, through phone conversations or so. She would not mention it otherwise, but I would ask small-talk questions like ‘what did you do today?” and I would get answers like “We went to Mangeshkar hospital to talk to administration” or “That child smiled for the first time after 6 months”.

Still, I did not pay much attention then. “Some social work ..”, I said to myself. When my friends in US would ask me about my sister, (they were very curious to know how she is coping withIndia), I would tell them the same thing “She is doing some social work. So it’s good! She is keeping herself busy”. It had to be some kind of that social work, you know. Besides, I was too busy and focused on my own life in US and work etc etc to really delve into the nitty-gritty.

So 3 weeks ago, I went to India for my own wedding. It was a fantastic time. Family, friends, parties, wedding preparations, shopping, eating out, .. You name it!

Anupama continued to go to this Mangeshkar hospital almost daily when I was in Pune. I also heard the name of Sassoon hospital from her. My friend Mugdha also had started to work with Anupama and Meera. So I heard from her as well. In fact they all seemed very serious about their work. A week before the wedding, they were talking about having to miss their visit to the hospital on the day just before my wedding and they were trying to plan it so that it won’t be missed. Frankly I was like .“hmmm” . After all, I had come all the way from US of A and it was MY wedding. Come on, it better be the most important day along with the days before and after. Can you not think about some visit to some kids for a change?

So during that week, one day, in between doing travel preparations for my upcoming honeymoon and having a nice lunch at this great seafood place with my fiancé, I decided to go with Anupama and Mugdha to Mangeshkar hospital. Actually, the truth is that they were going to that part of the city for their visit and I needed a ride. And so I went ..

Mugdha and Anupama had taken two big cardboard boxes with them in the car. They were full of small toys, sketching stuff, pens and pencils, cars, dolls... It supposedly was a part of their routine.

Mangeshkar hospital turned out to be nicer looking than I had imagined. I walked in. The familiar smell of needles and hospital along with patients – old, young, men, women .. sitting on the wooden benches and chairs, doctors and nurses running around .. I had started to feel pretty proud and healthy about myself as I walked around carrying one of the two big toy boxes.

Anupama and Mugdha walked in this department with the name that had the word “Cancer” in it. I followed them. We were walking by an elevator. Just then the doors of the elevator opened and out came a young boy. How young? 6 or may be 5 ? He was carrying bandages and some tubes attached to him as he walked out of the elevator along with his parents. The thing I immediately noticed was his head. It was shaved off. Completely. Anupama immediately smiled at them. They smiled back. They knew her well. She went ahead and patted that small boy. “How are you feeling today”? He was shy. But he smiled at her. The smile of a young 6 years old boy! Plain and simple! Although his parents were dressed properly, clearly they belonged to the lower income strata.

There was another mother caring for her 5-6 year old girl in the corridor. Another young child. That girl was crying hopelessly. Anupama went and talked to the mother. She kneeled down and held that girl close to her. “What happened?” She asked. They both knew her. The mother replied “It’s all itchy .. because of the medicines”. The small girl could not bear all her skin itching like that. So she was crying. Oh yes and she was bald as well.

Mugdha in the mean time has gone into a ‘General’ ward. I went in there along with Anupama. Mugdha had carried the other Toy box with her. She had already started taking the toys out and showing it to a young boy – 6-7 years old again – who was lying on one of the beds there. I looked around. There were other small kids – all lying on the beds around.

All bald! All carrying tubes and bandages! Some of those bandages were fatter than their limbs.

The helpless parents and grandparents sat there along with their loved children. These people did not have enough money to take their kids to number 1 and number 2 hospitals in the country. They did not have enough money to afford pricey medicines or treatments. They did not have money to afford ‘Special ward’ either. So they had come here.

The small boy Mugdha was trying to play with – he had lost his smile. He was trying to sit up on his bed only with the help of his parents. As Mugdha tried to communicate with him, his parents smiled at her knowingly - “He cannot talk today”. They said. His mouth from inside had swollen up. When I or you open our mouths, we see our throat cavity. But in his case, the cancer had grown inside his mouth. There was no cavity. He could not open his mouth. Forget that, he could not take a sip of water of eat a grain of food.

This young boy would die later – just before I leftIndia.

“Children from poor families with cancer are mostly neglected in hospitals” Anupama said to me “Even the parents cannot afford the costly treatment. When it comes choosing between treatment of this fatal disease for one child and saving money for other children’s education or marriage, they choose the later.”

The seemingly ruthless and logical choice is out of necessity. Life looks very different when you have no money and when you are forced to make harsh choices because of that. It looks much different than what I or you are used to.

Yet Anupama was telling me about the father of the boy with the cancer in his mouth. He had said to her “Initially we were told that it would take 60-70000 rupees. We had the option of applying for the government grant, but then I thought, why to snatch that right away from some other poorer family? But now the expense is in range of 10 Lack rupees. How can I afford that? I have two daughters. One is in 12th grade, other is to be married soon”. Even in his financial condition, he was thinking of poorer families than him.

These children – many of them as young as my nieces or even younger – are ignored because they are a ‘lost cause’. Parents cannot afford treatment. Hospitals cannot afford them. It’s not the parents’ fault. It’s not the fault of the hospitals either.

So Anupama, Meera and Mugdha apply what they call a Play Therapy. They go and spend time with these kids. They play with them. They bring them toys. They read stories to them. There is no one else who wants to spend time with these kids.

They already have seen results. Parents of such children have told my sister “It’s only because of you that my child has smiled in 6 months”. I could see that first-hand. All these bed-ridden children – how their faces lit up when they saw Anupama and Mugdha.

It also did not take much more for me to understand why Anupama and Mugdha were so concerned about having to miss even single day of visit here.

But I was yet to learn some more..

In 4 days I visited another place – The Sassoon Hospital. We went to its orphanage/ Adoption center. Anupama works with them as well. She and my brother-in-law wanted to give me a gift for my wedding. She decided that they’d rather sponsor some meals for the children in that orphanage than buying yet another shirt or watch for me. I agreed and we all went to make the payment.

It was a small place with 2-3 smaller rooms. In each of those rooms were two layers of cribs. Some of those cribs had a single baby/infant/child/kid in it and the rest had two. These babies and kids – some of them were just looking at us with those big curious eyes. Some of them were crying hopelessly. Some of them were playing with one another. They were left on their own during that time when we were there and the cribs looked more like small prison cells to me. Elder kids recognized my sister as we walked through. Some of them wanted her to pick them up. Some started crying as we left them behind. My sister was resisting herself from picking anyone up because she did not want to leave them crying. They were all literally craving for any little human affection.

I would learn later that it takes about Rupees 1500 (~ $30) to feed all these children daily. There were many , many of them in that single orphanage.

That’s the amount I had spent on my single lunch the previous day.

Why did I write all this? Well, I know that we all feel sad and we all feel that ‘we should do something’ when we read such stuff. It’s a natural human emotion. I know that it’s also natural for us to not have such sentimental intensity about these causes all the time. In fact, majority of us forget about it soon as our minds get occupied with our lives and routines.

That’s how it is and there is nothing abnormal about it. So this is not about making anyone feel guilty. And frankly, it happens to me all the time. When I read or experience such things, I determine to be the greatest “giver” of all time. But within 10-15 minutes, I get back to solving my own problems again.

Recently I read an interesting article about ‘Love’. The author says that Love is not about emotion or state of one’s feelings. It’s about action – the things you do. In other words, it is impossible, rather unnatural to feel intense love and liking towards one person all the time, be it your spouse or any other loved one. Love is not about that. Feelings come and go. Love is about - still doing good things for that person in absence of those intense feelings.

I equate that article to this scenario. In fact, when I write this, I know that I am not as sentimental as I felt when I was walking through that hospital. I know that when you finish reading this, within 10-15 minutes, you won’t be as sentimental either.

The question is if we can still take action and do something to help others in absence of our sentiments, which always come and go.

My sister and many others like her do it. Daily.

May be we can all start somewhere.

Kedar (kapster00@gmail.com)