‘It is very good, beti. We should always help the less privileged. Very good,’ said Padma Devi.
Kanika did not miss the opportunity that had opened up.
‘Aunty, I was just thinking that Veda should come and work with me at Sankalp. We are badly in need of volunteers.’
‘Oh, is it? I think you should take Veda and show her all the work you do,’ chimed in Bhuwan before Padma Devi could respond.
‘Yes, yes. I would love to do that. Veda, would you like to come and work with me at Sankalp?’ asked Kanika.
Veda couldn’t believe what had just happened.
‘Ummm . . . ahhh,’ she stammered, trying to speak. She wanted to jump up and say yes. But she also did not want to seem too eager, in case Padma Devi pounced on her later.
‘Nothing to think about, Veda. I think you should give it a try. Now that your exams are over, you have time, isn’t it?’ said Bhuwan, his eyes twinkling.
‘Yes. Yes, I will come with you to Sankalp and see and understand what it’s all about,’ Veda managed to say.
‘Good, that’s fixed then. If you like it, you can straightaway join us,’ Kanika said. She turned to Padma Devi. ‘Aunty, I will come this Saturday and take Veda with me.’
Padma Devi couldn’t say anything. It had happened too quickly.
Veda wanted to hug and kiss Bhuwan and Kanika. She was so excited and happy.
Instead, she kept her eyes downcast, and served the snacks to the ladies, who were now talking about the music that would be played that evening.
When the musical evening started, Bhuwan slipped away.
Kanika got a moment alone with Veda.
‘See? There’s always a way around these things. Bhuwan and I used to be partners in crime for a lot more such things when we were kids. He spoke to me and I couldn’t refuse,’ she said.
‘Thank you!’ said Veda, squeezing Kanika’s hand in gratitude. She couldn’t wait for Saturday to arrive.
Part Three
BENDING THE RULES
Some rules are nothing but old habits that people are afraid to change.
– Therese Anne Fowler, Souvenir
Chapter 17
July 1996
Sitawadi, Pune
Kanika and Veda stood outside the Sitawadi area, near the massive light-yellow cement arch that marked the entrance, waiting for Kanika’s colleague.
‘I would have never thought in a million years that you and Bhuwan would manage to pull that one over my mother-in-law,’ Veda said, smiling.
‘Oh, we both always conspired to get Padma aunty to agree to things when we were kids. One time, when Bhuwan wanted to go on a class trip and Padma aunty was reluctant to let him, I got my mother to talk to the class teacher who then “accidentally” bumped into them on their morning walk. She talked about how all the students were coming, and what a good opportunity it was. My mother added her two bits about how delighted she was that I was going on the class trip. Then everyone looked expectantly at Padma aunty, and she had to agree,’ said Kanika.
Veda smiled.
‘There are so many stories like that, involving Bhuwan and me. I covered for him when he went out drinking. He covered for me when I wanted to spend the night with my boyfriends, now my ex-boyfriends,’ said Kanika, as she pulled a face.
Veda was taken aback at how nonchalant Kanika was, in admitting to having had sex with her former boyfriends. Did she trust Veda so much, or was it not a big deal to Kanika, Veda wondered.
‘Don’t you feel guilty about these . . . err . . . relationships you have had?’ Veda asked.
‘Guilty? No. I don’t feel guilty at all. I have thought about how society makes such a big deal of premarital sex. I think if you take precautions, it is perfectly okay. Humans are biologically not made to be monogamous. If you ask me, marriage disrupts the natural order of things,’ Kanika said.
Veda was uncomfortable discussing this subject with Kanika. Kanika was being so forthright and open about it. She wished now that she hadn’t brought it up. So she changed the topic.
‘I never knew that side of Bhuwan,’ said Veda.
‘He keeps it well-hidden. He has changed in the last couple of years. I do believe Padma aunty is to blame for that. She can be such a nag. Between you and me, he got married just to please Padma aunty. I hope you don’t mind my being honest with you about all this.’
‘I appreciate your being honest. And you know what, Kanika—I too got married just to please my parents,’ said Veda.
‘I suspected as much. I don’t know why parents can’t just let their children be. My mother keeps trying to match-make for me. But she also knows I will not be happy unless I make my own choice. She is still hopeful, though,’ Kanika said, shrugging.
‘I wonder where your colleague is,’ Veda said, glancing at her watch.
‘I think he will be on time. He is British, after all. By the way, his name is Ronald,’ said Kanika. She added that they had only corresponded via letters, and this was the first time they were meeting.
Veda nodded. She had never interacted with a foreigner before. She had only seen a few from a distance back in Joshimath. Foreign tourists travelling to Haridwar sometimes stayed in Joshimath. She was curious to see what Ronald would be like. She was also keen to see the world that lay so close to her own home—a world she had no knowledge of.
The arch was the most prominent landmark in this large slum settlement spread over three acres. It was only a few hundred metres from Kailash Mandir Colony, and within the radius of a kilometre from the office buildings. Kanika wondered if meeting Ronald here for the first time was a good idea. Perhaps she should have suggested that they all meet over a cup of coffee, before giving him a tour of the slum settlements. But it was he who had insisted on it. He wanted to film it, and he said it would be best if he met her here.
‘Oh, we will have plenty of time for coffee later. I think I will need it afterwards,’ he had said in his British accent. Kanika had to listen carefully over the phone to understand what he was saying. Though she was fluent in English, she discovered that the way he spoke was very different from how Indians spoke the language.
‘I hope his taxi driver is able to locate the place. I spoke to the driver and gave him instructions before he left the hotel,’ said Kanika.
‘I guess if he has the address, he will find it,’ Veda replied.
The sun was beating down hard. Veda squinted her eyes. She wished she owned a pair of sunglasses, like Kanika. In Joshimath, she had never felt the need for it, and so she had not bought a pair. In any case, her father saw all such expenses as frivolous.
As they stood waiting, a boy who looked about twelve or thirteen recognised Kanika.
‘Kanika didi! Good morning,’ he greeted her, his eyes shining bright.
‘Kisi ke liye wait kar rahe ho, didi?’ he asked, as he rolled a dismantled cycle wheel around expertly, steering it with a little wooden baton.
‘Umm, Sharan. English please. You know the rule,’ said Kanika, when she turned around and saw who had greeted her.
‘But didi, we . . . not in Sankalp. Not in class,’ said Sharan.
‘Yes, but when you speak to me, you have to speak only in English. You know the Sankalp rule,’ said Kanika.
‘Yes didi, sorry didi,’ said Sharan, as he frowned, trying to frame the sentence in English in his head.
‘You wait for who, didi? And who is this?’ he asked hesitatingly.
‘This is my friend, Veda. We are waiting for another friend of mine. He is going to film your area. Do you remember, I told you about Ronald, yesterday?’
‘Yes, Kanika didi, I remember. Hello, Veda didi, Good morning,’ said the boy, addressing Veda.
‘Hello, Sharan,’ said Veda, pleasantly surprised. She liked the boy already. He had a naughty face and an impish smile. He reminded her of Animesh.
‘Sharan is in Kajol’s class, Veda,’ Kanika said.
Veda was surprised, because Sharan looked so mu
ch younger. Then she realised that it was probably malnutrition.
They spotted Ronald’s car just then. Kanika waved her arms to catch the driver’s attention. The car came to a halt.
Ronald stepped out. He was about five foot ten, only an inch taller than Kanika. Kanika knew that he was thirty-one, but he looked much younger. He had a boyish face and was clean-shaven. His brown hair was cut short, and he wore a full-sleeved, deep grey shirt, dark trousers and a green tie. His leather shoes were so polished that Kanika could see her reflection in them. She was surprised to see his formal attire.
‘Hello, Kanika. I hope I haven’t kept you waiting too long,’ he said, as he offered his hand. He pronounced her name as Can-ikk-a.
‘Hi, Ronald. You haven’t kept us waiting at all. We just got here,’ said Kanika, as she extended her arm and shook his hand. It was a firm handshake.
‘Ronald, this is my friend Veda,’ said Kanika.
‘Hello, Ve-dah,’ he said.
Veda shook hands with him.
Both Veda and Kanika smiled at how he had pronounced their names. Kanika discovered that his accent was a bit easier to understand in person.
Kanika liked him instantly. The green in his eyes matched his tie.
‘This, here, is Sharan. He is one of the students,’ said Kanika, as she introduced Sharan.
‘Good morning, bhaiya,’ said Sharan, as he stared at Ronald, his eyes popping out.
‘And Sharan, why didn’t you go to school today?’ asked Kanika.
‘No school, didi. Chutti . . . er . . . holiday.’
‘Why?’ asked Kanika.
‘Festival didi. Big festival. Inside. Pooja,’ said Sharan, extending both his arms, trying to convey the largeness of the festival with his limited vocabulary of English words.
‘Ah, I see,’ said Kanika.
Sharan studied Ronald’s face. They had never had a ‘foreign bhaiya’ in Sankalp before. Though there were a few didis and bhaiyas who taught them, they were all Indian. This was the first time in his life that Sharan was interacting with a foreigner. He suddenly felt shy.
‘Okay, bye didis, bye bhaiya,’ he said, as he sped off, rolling his bicycle tyre in front of him.
‘Gosh. Look at that! How does he do that?’ Ron asked.
‘Do what?’ Kanika frowned.
‘You know, that bicycle wheel he rolled. How does he move it forward without any support?’
‘Oh, that! They are all experts with many unusual toys like these. Why, don’t you have this in England?’ she asked, with an amused expression.
‘This? No. Good lord, no. I have never seen anything like this,’ he said. He did not realise that she was teasing him.
‘Ah, wait till we begin the tour of the settlement. And, by the way, welcome to India! How are you liking it so far?’
‘Oh, it’s been lovely. Mumbai was . . . um . . . crowded. But it was fascinating. The drive here was very pleasant.’
‘Oh, that’s good to hear. Did you sleep well? Have you rested enough?’
‘Yes, I did. Thank you for asking. I slept like a baby last night. It’s been a week now, in India, and I think I am getting used to it,’ said Ronald.
Veda was a little awestruck by Ronald. She was tongue-tied in his presence and did not know what to say. Fortunately for her, Kanika was keeping the conversation going. Veda just had to tag along with them.
‘Look, Ronald, this might be . . . er . . . a little difficult for you? If you like, we can do this after you have met the children at class tomorrow,’ said Kanika. She wasn’t sure how Ronald would manage to walk through the slum settlement in his spotless, shiny shoes and his formal clothes. It looked like he was dressed for a board meeting. But she did not know him well enough to tell him directly that his sartorial choice wasn’t suitable for a venture such as this. He would discover that soon enough.
‘Better to get this out of the way. I have to send them these films. I have my camcorder right here. Let’s see—new tape . . . yes, I have it,’ he said, as he took out a small cassette and inserted it into his camcorder. ‘As I mentioned in my letter, the Carman Foundation members want to see the actual living conditions of these children. They are happy to support Sankalp, but they have sent me here to make accurate reports. I think it’s important for them to see where their money is going, and how Sankalp is helping. All the donations come from individual members you see, and none of them have travelled to India,’ explained Ronald.
‘Sure, I understand. You will see in the classrooms what a huge difference Sankalp is making in the lives of these children,’ said Kanika, as she led the way.
Ronald switched on his camcorder and began to film. The ‘street’ itself was no more than eight-feet wide. Tiny hutments with asbestos sheets as roofs stood next to each other. None of the houses had windows. Instead, there was a single door that opened out onto the street. Clothes were hung out to dry outside the homes, on clotheslines that clung to the dusty walls. A woman stood outside a hutment with three large buckets, bending over and washing vessels. The dirty water flowed down the street, mixing with the mud, making a pile of slush as it flowed.
‘Oh,’ said Ronald, as he stepped into it, his shoes making a squelching sound. The slushy mud splattered, causing deep brown spots to appear on his dark trousers. Veda and Kanika smartly avoided it, hopping around it, treading gingerly. People glanced at Veda, Kanika and Ronald curiously, but did not stop whatever they were doing.
‘Does Kajol live here?’ Veda asked Kanika.
‘Yes, but I am not sure if this is her street. There are at least eighteen or twenty streets like this one,’ replied Kanika.
But Veda kept a lookout for Kajol.
Inside the hutments, it was dark. In one, Ronald saw a stove on the floor and a woman sitting next to it, cooking. The smell of whatever she was making mingled with the slightly rancid stench outside, assaulting his nostrils. A little toddler in an oversized muddy T-shirt, unsupervised by anybody, crossed the street, coughing loudly. Ronald found himself inadvertently holding his breath as he waited for the toddler to pass.
Women stood around in multi-coloured polyester nightgowns and talked to each other over the din of the ongoing construction. Firewood lay piled up to one side. Scooters and cycles stood scattered, parked randomly through the lane. If Ronald was surprised, he certainly did not show it. His face betrayed no emotion as he walked on behind Kanika, filming it all, his camera pausing every now and then, focusing on the children in particular, who walked, played and talked, oblivious to their surroundings. Veda trailed behind Ronald, the three of them making a strange entourage, but the residents of Sitawadi were too engrossed in their daily life to pay any attention to them, other than giving them a few cursory, curious glances. The older girls were sitting outside their homes, washing vessels or clothes. The boys were in groups, roaming around or playing. Some of the boys were playing with a top, which they took turns to spin on the ground. Garbage was piled up everywhere. There were goats tethered outside a few homes, and some children were feeding them.
A vegetable vendor pushed his cart though this street, shouting out the price of his wares. As they walked on, Ronald noticed that some of the homes didn’t even have cement walls. Instead, they were made of asbestos sheets. Stray dogs lazed around. There was an open sewage system through which dirty water flowed.
The street opened out to a slightly wider area which had tiny shops that sold everything from paan to provisions to cigarettes. In the middle of this area stood a massive peepul tree, around which a circular platform was constructed. A few men sat on this, playing cards. Next to them were glasses of alcohol and a bottle that was half-empty.
Kanika kept a watch out for Sankalp students, but she couldn’t spot any.
After they had finished walking through the lane, she asked Ronald, ‘Do you want to film some more?’
‘I think this will do for now,’ he said.
Kanika nodded. ‘Yes, it is a bit too much, isn’t it? What a
bout you Veda, are you okay?’ she asked.
Veda nodded.
Ronald was silent. Then he said, ‘I am just shocked. I had read about the poverty in India, and even seen pictures. But this is beyond words. I feel deeply saddened to witness first-hand their deplorable living conditions.’
Veda was a little shaken too. She had never been inside such a settlement. Though she had seen some poverty in the Garhwal mountains, she had never experienced such squalor, and such terrible living conditions.
‘Yes, I feel sad too,’ said Veda, agreeing with Ronald.
‘Yes, Ronald and Veda. All our students at Sankalp come from such homes. So you can imagine what a challenge it is for them. Life has dealt them the unluckiest cards. I think people like you and me, together, we can make a difference. This is why we first give a tour of this place to anyone who wants to be associated with Sankalp. This way, they are fully aware of the backgrounds of the children, and it translates to more empathy and understanding in the classrooms.’
‘Yes, I get it. That’s what the Carman Foundation wants to do—make a difference in the lives of these children. This film will help the members back home get the correct picture.’
‘Shall we go back then?’ asked Kanika.
Veda and Ronald nodded.
‘One more thing—you can call me Ron. Ronald sounds a tad too formal. Whenever I got into trouble at school, that is how the teachers addressed me. “Ronald Wilson”, they would start, and I knew I was in trouble,’ he said, and smiled.
‘Were you a naughty child?’ Kanika asked.
‘Oh, the usual things that boys do at that age,’ said Ron, dismissively.
Kanika asked them if they wanted to take an auto, or whether they preferred to walk back down the street.
Ron wanted to know if there was any way out, without having to walk back through the slum. So Kanika led them to a path around the slum.
In the initial days of setting up Sankalp—which was run by an NGO with an army of volunteers—nobody in this settlement had understood the concept, or the need, for such a thing. When Kanika and the social workers had visited the locality to urge the residents to send their children to Sankalp for two hours before the children attended their regular school, nobody was interested.
The Rule Breakers Page 14
