Thursday, August 21, 2008

cotton candy and white noise



I am way behind on my reading. Also way behind on updating my blog. Also way behind on following some (most) of them. But first of all, I have for you this.

Today has been an absolutely delightful day. The weather outside was oh-so-perfect this morning. In fact, we’ve had pleasant weather for over two weeks now. But I’m not going to bore you with the details of the weather we experience on this side of the world.

I haven’t written in a while, that’s probably why I’m talking gibberish. Of late so many things have been happening around me. My friends are migrating. Most of them are married or getting married. Some of them have lil angels and dolls to play with. Some are expecting. Some others are changing jobs. I’m spending less and less time with my sister ‘cos she’s getting busier with her life. AND it’s frustrating to know that I’m getting no where. I promise I won’t sulk because none of this is life altering.

Here’s a little story for you.

A little girl lives with her 8-something-member family that serves as domestic help for a large house right next door. She sings her heart away every morning to the not-so-prefect tune of Dhoom machale. By the looks of her, I can bet she can’t be a year older than seven. I would even say she’s just about six. But you’ll never know how deceptive looks can be when children her age are malnourished. She’s probably older than that… I’m not going to venture into that subject though.

Coming back to the song she sings every morning. She probably knows only those two words, or she prefers to sing away only those two, but she definitely doesn’t feel the need to go any further. While I sit in my third floor balcony, the morning news on one hand and a mug of steaming hot tea on the other, she is already at work. She has to fill a large empty tub with water that she pumps out of a hand pump into a smaller manageable bucket. She carries this around to where the tub is kept, a few feet away, and pours into the tub which can hold about 400 liters. I can’t begin to imagine how many trips she would have to make to fill the tub which is little taller than she is.

All this I watch from my third floor apartment balcony and feel ashamed to wonder about the incomplete song. Why didn’t I ever ponder about her homework? Did she complete it? Isn’t she’s supposed to get ready to go to school in a couple of hours? Wouldn’t her school bus come over to pick her up soon? Why didn’t any of that thought enter my mind? Here I am wondering why she sings only two words of a song. The irony of it being, I conveniently considered her to continue her family tradition of performing menial work for well-off homes.

Oh did I mention she chirps away happily while doing her tasks? Not one morning have I seen her feel remorseful of what she did. That is unquestionably some lesson I must learn!

Not so long ago, with a little push from Times of India’s powerful campaign Teach India, I decided to do my bit to help the thousands of little girls like her to sing. Make noise. Or squeal in joy upon riding a merry-go-round in a school playground. Even if her school is run by an NGO and taught by an amateur like myself. TeachIndia isn’t a new concept, but I’m insanely excited about it.

So as soon as TOI contacts me with more information, I’m going to be spending 4 hours a week changing the face of our nation. Are you interested to give the country a little of what your parents gave you? Do you live in one of the metros with a little time to spare this 2008? I’m a Teach India volunteer! You could be too.

India is a unique song. But it desperately needs people like us to change the way the world hears it. Now, it wouldn’t hurt to shriek a little to help bring tens of thousands of voices together, would it?

While we’re on that topic, here’s a wonderful song for you. Added advantage if you understood Hindi. And this time, I promise to be back sooner to attend to those meme’s.


Happy National Day everybody!