A SCHOOL IN ALIBAG - A BUNCH OF KIDS - AND SUNDRY CONVERSATIONS: A Ray of Hope In The Worst Of Times
by Lalita Ramdas [on the day of the massacre at Anantnag (Kashmir) - 28 June 1999]
It is monsoon time in Raigad and in Konkan. The rain has been doing its job
as rain must - falling steadily - heavily at times and sometimes as today -
in a soft gentle drizzle with the sun shining through and creating that
magical soft light bathing the trees and the fields and even the decaying
grounds, walls and classrooms of School No 4 [a middle school] in the
Police Lines of Alibag . My colleague Dayanand and I had just finished a
visit to the Koli wadi Balwadi - one of 18 started by us - Pratham, Alibag,
in the Municipal Area of Alibag - and had hoped to catch the second one
being run in a small space, provided courtesy the headmaster , inside one
of the classrooms in the school. But we were late and we could only get to
meet the teachers . A number of young girls and boys of varying ages and
sizes were already in the room - chattering and waiting for the bell to
ring.
Clearly visitors like us were a novelty and we must have created a stir -
this white haired woman and the young man accompanying her.The children
were curious and eager to find out who we were and why we were there? For
the next 20 minutes, until classes actually started, we were part of an
exciting impromptu class.
We began our interaction, typically, by talking about the `latesht' movies
and favourite heroes. I had to pretend a level of knowledge about
Bollywood characters which I really didn't have! Having broken the ice,
inevitably the conversation turned to cricket - and having quickly sized me
up and decided that they could speak frankly - we shared confidences about
the best cricket teams in the World Cup 99. The first time around there was
an almost programmed show of fierce national loyalties - and they all
proclaimed that the Indian team was the `beshtest' team. Then with a little
prodding from me - suggesting that there are also other teams which have a
world reputation - they came out one by one - " Australia subse acchha
hai" [Australia is the best team], and another one said, no it is South
Africa. A little fellow standing by my side chirped up " "Magar mujhe tho
Pakistan team ..........[But my favourite team is Pakist......"], and then
he suddenly cut himself short put his little grubby hands over his mouth
and looked around almost guiltily. So I put my hand on his shoulder and
told him that he should go right ahead and say what he wanted to; that
there was nothing wrong about admiring the Pakistan cricket team even if
our countries were having a fight on the mountains in Kashmir.
And it was like the floodgates opened up after that - everyone wanted to
be a bowler like Shoaib Akhtar - although their batting preferences varied
beyond Sayed Anwar whom I named as my favourite while others rolled off
names like Mark Waugh and Shane Warne.
Even the girls admitted to having their own heroes, although they became
strangely silent when I asked them how many actually played cricket. A few
of them chimed up to say that they never had a chance to play the game -
either because the boys would not let them, or because they had to help
with housework when they got home from school. Then we went into another
animated debate - about what is a boys game and a girls game - and boys
work and girls work - is there really a difference? Many solemn little
faces nodded readily when I suggested that if the boys and girls both
helped their `Ayyees' with their housework, then both could get free
quickly and go out to play on the playing fields. We unanimously decided
that if there were World Cup teams for Womens Football and Cricket and
Hockey - why not begin with the girls of Alibag school no 4 being given a
chance to train and that we would have the first match played next year!
But the final round of conversation was perhaps the most the most
arresting. I was trying to move out into the verandah so that the classes
could start - but found yet another bunch of about 20 boys and girls
blocking my way - the headmaster and two teachers also joined us. More
questions - who are you? Why are you here? What do you do? What is Pratham?
So then I decided to ask my own questions - what is your favourite activity
other than watching TV ? Do you like to read? A few hands shot up and
ofcourse my next question had to be -" so what do you like to read?" One
said "I read every issue of Champak" - [a childrens magazine]; someone said
story books. One little boy [age 8 or 9, or maybe 11 or 13] looked intently
at me and said he liked to read the local newspaper - called Krishi Val.
So I asked the next obvious question -which page do you read, fully
expecting him to say " Sports Page" . But little solemn face was unfazed -
and told me it was the front page - these days it was all about the war in
Kargil - "they" are killing our jawans [solidiers]. Soon it turned into an
animated current affairs session - who was killing whom, and why? Who was
at fault - the answer was unanimous,. But why were we fighting - because
they want our `zameen' - Kashmir hamaara hai".........
The old verandah that runs horizontally across the building is paved with
large grey Shahabad flagstones - and the cement that joins stone to stone
provides a kind of a line of demarcation. We were all standing in a loose
circle with our feet partially across the dividing lines - so I put my foot
across the next stone and asked the kids on my side to do likewise - they
learned rapidly and we were in the midst of a role play of a fight over
territory - a dispute over boundaries and of land. The kids, the teachers,
myself -found ourselves absorbed in the simulation - questions and answers
- what will happen if each side refuses to move our feet away and insists
that that stone is mine? - then we will begin to fight - first with our
hands- and then with guns and then with rockets .......and .......bombs
...... and missiles......OK so what will happen? - we will kill each other
......and then? Silence ....Is there any other way we can solve it? - a
little girl shyly answered - `Hum ek dusre se baath tho kar sakthe hain' -
we can talk to each other - Do we want to fight or do we want to talk and
get to know each other and build peace - Shanthi aur Aman chahiye
........Peace is better.
`Do you know how much it costs to fight - and do you know what the
mountains there are like?' "All we know is it costs lots of money - and
they say there is lots of snow and rocks - and nothing else." `Then why are
we fighting?' ...........More silence -shuffling of feet -
The bell rings - time for one last question? Suppose there was no war and
no fighting and we had all that money to spend in places like this - what
can we do? The answers came fast and furious - we did not need Amartya Sen
or any other learned scholar to tell us. The kids knew what they needed -
clean drinking water; nice roads; health centres and medicines; big play
grounds - a new building for our school - books, a library - cricket bats
and foot balls, computers, English classes..........- we can play cricket
against each other.....
It was time to go - I had to tear myself away - there was a spontaneous
waving of hands - "Didi, thum phir kabh aaoge? " When will you come again?
Soon, I promised, and walked thoughtfully across the neglected grounds -
cluttered with garbage, and plastic and iron rods from the construction
site and piled up rusting equipment belonging to nobody in particular, with
the dangerous unprotected well in the centre waiting for a disaster to
happen - Who is responsible? The Municipal Corporation? The principal and
teachers? The parent community? You and I? I dreamed of a beautiful clean
building with bright painted walls and a well maintained sportsfield
.........
Once more I realised the power we hold in our hands - we adults, we
teachers, the media - opportunities to mould young minds in a positive
constructive way which could lead to a sharp and fearless critical ability,
or to thoughtlessly demonise the enemy ,"the other", or even worse, to
reinforce and allow to go unchallenged, the mindless cliches of patriotic
fervour a la the mass media .
At the risk of repeating another cliché - let me end with a favourite one
from the UN System - from the UNESCO Charter I believe - Since wars begin
in the minds of men, it is in the minds of men that the defenses of peace
must be constructed" Our task is clearly to begin the construction of those
defenses, a task every bit as critical as any that lies ahead of us on the
tough road to achieving Peace.
Post Script:
a promise by the Police Superintendent to help clean up the ground -
prepare a decent sports ground for the kids - and some assistance by way of
a sports instructor!
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