Theming the wolf..

I have been thinking... maybe I should give this blog a direction, a purpose. As it stands, I don't know what to write when I get to this page, hence the sparse posts. It is great to have an outlet, of course, to write about something that has been on my mind, and be sporadic about it. I can always supplement my blog with those episodes. But as a regular instance, perhaps a theme wouldn't be such a bad idea. 

Hmm. And so the search begins.. 

And the moral of the chocolate cake is...

Poverty is a blatantly harsh reality in India. The contrast between the slums and the high-rises is stark in appearance as well as experience. While in India last summer, I had a close encounter with the experience of street children, one of which I will recount here.

It was a sunny, cheerful kind of day when I met Sunil - a little boy of 4 or so, whose only business with me was the giant slice of chocolate cake that I had every intention of devouring. He had the bluest eyes I have ever seen on any Indian face, and could not speak proper hindi. Barely 4 years old, he had already been taught to beg.

He sauntered up to the patio table my friends and I had occupied, with the biggest, most hopeful smile as we settled down with our prized slice of cake. He had spied it of course, and like any child (including us) was tempted by its delicious display. Our hearts went out to him, so my friend Kshama asked him if he would eat "bhutta" (corn-on-the-cob). He nodded eagerly, his blue eyes sparkling with anticipation, and followed Kshama as she walked towards the corn vendor. I followed them both, curious to know the outcome.

Halfway there, he gently tugged on Kshama's sleeve and asked if he could go buy it himself. Kshama hesitated. She knew the reality of this innocent looking child's circumstances. Her dilemma was clear in her eyes as they looked over at me and questioned, "What to do? Should I insist on buying him food and make sure he eats it, while risking a beating from whoever asked him to beg? Or should I give him the money and perpetuate this vicious cycle of begging?"

Her question was not an easy one. A desi, and yet a foreigner, I couldn't understand her plea for help...could not understand the reason for her hesitation. So, Kshama made a difficult decision on her own, and reluctantly handed over the money. Sunil whooped with joy, and thanked us. We told him: "Khaana kha lena! Theek hai?" "Haan! haan!" he said as he skipped away. A few steps later, he turned around, caught us watching and motioned vigorously with his arms: "Aap jaao, main le loonga! Jao!" he said entreatingly.

We retreated, but with heavy hearts. On our way back to the table, Kshama explained to me the true consequences of our actions. The most probable scenario would entail Sunil relinquishing the money to either a parent, or a local gang member, who use these children as an easy means of making money. They know that there are always those among the otherwise desensitized middle-class, who will give in to those pleading eyes and be moved by their plight. Sunil's reward for this successful endeavour would not be the bhutta he promised us he'd buy. But he had either earned himself a meal, or a blanket for the night. The joy in his eyes had lit up my day until I realized that I was not helping a little boy, but contributing to the complicated web of an existing social issue. Don't get me wrong. I have grown up in India with the same motto that everyone else heard when they were young: "DON'T give them money! They will spend it on alcohol and drugs!" But growing up in the west has made me realize that there are no black and white issues, there are always grey areas. This experience has taught me to ask a follow up question to that motto: If we shouldn't give them money, and if they won't accept food, what can we do to help them? The answer to this is intertwined with the need for change in India. A change in ideology, changes in modes and methods of development, changes in its social infrastructure, and political future. And change begins with activism - activism that must begin within the people, by the people and for the people.

It didn't take us long to put Sunil out of our minds and finish our decadent chocolate cake (which was probably not even fair-trade, but that's a different story entirely). But I won't ever forget those piercing blue eyes that captured my heart. Where might he be now? Is he safe? Is he alive? How is he? Is he sad? or happy? He had a captivating smile. He's going to be a handsome boy someday. I just hope he retains his untarnished soul as well.