I remember my panic when I first faced my batch of pre-adolescents at a foundation that was working with slum children. I remember my palpitating self-confidence at the thought of having to teach such gangly and tender looking children meditation and pranayama. Being impoverished, the girls who were 13 looked around 9 to me and the fact that they weren't as worldly as the children we meet who are obviously from a more privileged class and exposed to the extra - curricular world. These children hadn't had exposure to the thinkers of our age, to internet and newspapers. They were, however, irascibly street smart, picking up the concepts I taught them with the zeal of someone who knows what a benefit self-development is.
One of these sessions finally decoded that wistful gaze I was subjected to by the girls. One of them said to me that her mother was discouraging her from putting her heart into education because all she would do later would be to get married. Soon. The girl I thought looked 10 and too young to meditate was talking marriage and babies with the rationale of a woman in her 20's. If there is a more chilling face-off with the reality of our nation consider me off the list. I can do without such a slap-on-the-face moments when the sheer craziness of how privileged we are as a result of the coincidence of our birth to educated, middle- class parents is rubbed on our faces.
I brushed aside the stinging feeling at the base of my neck and proceeded with a dismissive smile. I joked that she could tell her mother that if she were educated they would find an educated groom for her. I quickly forgot the incident until this week when I attended the annual summer camp organised by the foundation for these students. Dance, drama, music, painting and science exhibitions that displayed their progress to the trustees and promoters of the foundation. I was blown by the dance performances and the science exhibits. But what rocked me to my core was the play put together by the girls. Aged 8 to 13. A play on child marriage.
Evidently, a cathartic release for them. The concept, script and dialogues were all developed by the girls themselves. The acting and execution were brilliant and were I allowed I would post the video here. Their passionate bows at the applause clearly conveyed how deeply moving a release it was for them. They are all living in the shadow of fear - a marriage that might be arranged any day in their teens and take them away from home and school to another slum or village. A discussion by the panel of staff that deliberated with the principal of the children's schools quickly narrated the rest of the tale.
Whereas the children all excelled in the walls of the foundation, their studies and extra-curriculars didn't follow up within their homes. Irrespective of gender their parents were indifferent to the improvement in their grades, their ambitions to be more than their humble beginnings. Obviously, these parents didn't want their children to be too good for themselves. To be alienated from your own child is something no parent wants. But here, particularly the girls were being aggressively pulled down. Their parents let them indulge in the activities conducted at the foundation, they might even enjoy the gifts the girls bring home for having excelled in their choice of activity. But an improvement in grades is perceived as a threat. And attempts are made to neutralise the flowering of their child's personality.
Here in a nutshell is our predicament. Even when resources are available to children who have what it takes to move out of the slums, the parents and family pull the child back. The girls, more aggressively are emotionally blackmailed. Their mothers allege that by stressing for an education they are implying their own mothers are inferior. The girl is torn between a world she longs to be a part of, and parents who pull her back through the dynamics of covert control and manipulation. Which daughter wants her parents to be alienated or her family to allege she is breaking out of their circle. By speaking a different language, by knowing what a computer is and by making choices that put power in her hands, she is rubbing their inferiority in their faces, and no child wants to do that.
So the girls hide their real value from themselves and their parents. Hide their dreams and longingly gaze at me and the employees at the foundation like they were looking through the glass of a candy-shop.
I had on my hands girls rescued from the street, raised in a shelter home away from families and now at the threshold of adult life. My interaction with them raised an issue they possibly never thought about. A complete absence of any religious training or spiritual education whatsoever.
Us, we are lucky. We get to choose what to follow. If we feel the way of our faith supplemented by our upbringing suits us we can follow that. If not, we have a wide array of choices made possible by the educated milieu to which we belong. We can read books, join classes and study groups to explore spirituality and any spiritual figures who appeal to us. We can do all this because we can afford the money and the leisure. Our basic and advanced needs are met to leave space for spiritual exploration and networking.
What about a group of girls that has neither the upbringing nor the conveniences above. Who have neither explored nor experienced the raw positivity that saints, seers and poets of yore have left as our inheritance, who have never discussed with anyone any virtue, any goodness, any source of higher power ? This was a truth that exposed my ignorance of how much of a privilege we have in these matters. As with food, positivity that comes from a spiritual source is the sustenance of the mind and soul. We need it, imperfect,irrational or unreal as it's source and form may be. This need leads us to astounding synchronicities and connections.
To my batch, I tentatively told them to explore any appreciation, respect or attraction they harbour towards any Deity, saint or role model. Need not be of your faith. Fearlessly abandon the monotony of regimented sheltered approach and explore the concepts of love and power in any shape or form that appeals to you. I didn't add that once they take that first step, beginner's luck will come into play and their minds and lives will follow a surprisingly planned course of action that will lead to the blossoming of their inner selves.
Isn't the above how most of us end up on our paths ? Exploring an initial attraction we find ourselves firmly following the plan of the deity or belief figure if not a path that has been paved by them. For what seems like the nth time my own conniving Krishna is taking me on a retreat one of his homes. The birth place of the modern day Bhakti Movement or Renaissance in India. The Nadia District of Bengal. That I should be on way to place I knew neither existence nor the significance of until I had the above interchange with the girls speaks volumes. As you give, you receive.
And the Single, Female, Backpacker's journey continues.
It was one of those internet sponsored synchronicities. A lovely American couple, touchingly took in 20 girls who had left a defunct shelter home and would have ended up on the streets of Kolkata. They found them new homes. Their education and vocational training is being taken care of by this pair with the sentimentality of parents, friends and siblings to these girls. And long story short, after I connected with this wonderful lady and the usual round of pleasantries were exchanged I found myself conducting a workshop for her cherished bunch.
The three hours I spent with them will be cherished as the most rewarding ones by far, a connection of souls with these young women who come from such humble circumstances we can't even begin to imagine. Full of hopeful longings yet a tad unsure, they seemed to need a mirror wherein to beckon their selves. Having spent a portion of their life in shelter homes they seemingly wore it as a badge, their self-definitions were shaky.At the commencement of the workshop I asked them to shares their names and then describe themselves, their inner selves through a word, more if necessary.One squeaky little voice volunteered and bravely announced her name in so unsure a tone I didn't get it. I told her and the group that your names are your identities, wear them with pride, utter them with dignity and confidence and the world will do the same. It was evident that it was the first time, in their underprivileged lives, that anyone had ever suggested their names to be deserving of respect as any of us.
The next task, of picking their word was by far the toughest and revealed how fragile and muddled their self-image was, or perhaps this is what they share with many of us. A word or more that encapsulates our soul's essence. But to know that we must know us, the real us, free from outer influences, in it's state of being. Unsurprisingly, a series of unconvincing attempts followed. Having seen such dire circumstances and hardships many of them said they felt sad for the poor, needy and destitute. Well, right there I revealed that this is an error - thinking of themselves vis-a-vis others. Moreover someone who needs pity and compassion - in other words themselves. And one of them even introduced herself as the product of a poor background.
We are not where we come from. it is not what defines us or imprisons us by any means. I shared with the girls this truth, one that we all need to know because we knowingly or unknowingly flow through life defining ourselves as what has been or what is. We are in fact all the potential within us, the Self that whether or not expressed will always be one of light and power. It may be hidden by circumstances, by our own weaknesses and helplessness. But it lives.
Waiting for us to give it a name, a word that will set it free.
" Please make sure the kids are 14 and above,S." I was planning with great enthusiasm my first batch of children at the project that conducts activity workshops with underprivileged children. Everything that I had to teach, share and impart needed an adolescent mind. That my one, clear belief. " Well, we do have children in that age group but can the younger ones come too ? ", the programme director thought we could unleash the kraken and stay alive .... duh ... How would I ever get a bunch of pre -teens or worse to be interested in such ....... elevated ideas as breath control, focus, mental visualisations and meditation. And meditation BTW.
Our first workshop planned with great gusto as first things always are. I was breathlessly marching into the room when S told me that our target group .. well .. hadn't turned up in as great a number as planned. " it's the heat wave " .. Damn Kolkata summers. Quick to read my disappointment S added that the younger batch was here in full strength, why not start with them. I gulped down my disappointment and entered the room. Only to have to mild cardiac emergency.
It was not a group of pre-teens. It was a group of teeny-really teeny-weenies. Who looked at best between 5 to 10. And 4 girls above 10. Quick to assuage my horror, S added that they aren't that young, it's the undernourishment. No, knowing that still didn't help. Visualising them in their underpants didn't help. Imagining they were older and bulkier didn't help. Their own unconditional acceptance of me and what I had to teach transformed me in a jiffy. That I was able to get such little children do pranayama with the joy of Sachin playing the field was a shock. They breezed through the class leading me to believe that the worse was yet to come. How on earth would I get them to sit through a guided meditation without cracking up ??
I realised children are much more tuned into their spirit with far lesser blocks in their psyche than us adults. I couldn't believe the absolute,unconditional sincerity with which they followed my instructions. Of course almost all of them opened one eye from time to time to peep around at which I promptly flicked my fingers in a shutter down motion. However two of the boys who seemed like they had mild ADHD needed a firmer hand. After the third time they peeped an eye open and glanced at me I made the motion of sticking my talons in my eyes. Worked like a charm XD.
And so it was that a group of pre-teens humbled and freed me from my preconceptions and misgivings that age is more than a number.
"A Little Child Shall Lead Them". Isaiah 11:1-10.
