Over-ripe,under-ripe students.

CHAPTER TWO: Over-ripe, under-ripe students.
To follow the story better, read CHAPTER ONE: My First Day On The Metro

As days went by, we developed a beautiful relationship with our students.
At the very start, we noticed that the students discriminated against their peers on the basis of family background and economic status. I would often hear the influential students ostracize certain others by closing their circle and making the others sit alone, outside. This made me really sad because it was just a dress rehearsal for the life they would lead as adults-in a world where power were used without the interjection of the conscience. I was suddenly even more aware of my role in the lives of these children and reiterating the mantra “If you wouldn’t like to be treated badly, don’t treat others badly.” worked well to resolve this issue.

When a good number of classes were over, I noticed that was Anil greatly interested in birds, Aneesh assumed a natural position of leadership in the class, and Gautam and Anita were the most eager to learn. So soon, apart from being their teacher, I found myself becoming their friend. I realised that many children faced trouble with parents unwilling to send them to the bus-mainly due to trust and practical issues. Even the ones whom we were able to convince sent their children only with their younger siblings because nobody was at home while the adults worked. This opened me up to an over-ripe side to the under-ripe young girls and boys. These children took care of their siblings, did many household chores, worked nearly as much as one would in a a full-time job and still found time to play and go to afternoon school like students their age. Getting to know them filled me with such an intense, powerful urge to help them live a better, educated life in the future.

During these 30 days of teaching, I lived two experiences concerning the students that I will never forget in my life. The first was when an orthodox father came to the bus angrily and dragged his daughter by her upper arm across the street and into their shanty. This totally shattered me because the child was punished so brutally while she wailed and apologized for simply showing an interest in education. Even today, I cannot forget the sight of the small girl being dragged across in her pink kurta by her unmoved father: those are the substance of nightmares.

The second experience was when a mentally disturbed boy of 14 or 15 sat on the steps of our bus and used abusive language with the much younger students. He incited them for no reason and even tried to throw stones at them. When we tried to reason with him, he looked us in the eye and refused to budge. Finally, Rahul Bhaiya-the driver of our bus-drove him away and out of the bus. The teachers said that Sallimullah would perform such acts often because his family did not care at all about a “useless” mentally ill child. He would wander about wherever he wished and his parents would start looking only if he was missing for two days or so. Being a student of Psychology, I was absolutely dejected about Sallimullah’s lack of family support for his illness. 😦

Yet, despite all the difficult experiences, it was wonderful to finish my internship with a family of many loving students behind at Mankhurd. I often heard the young ones calling out excitedly to “Teacher!!” when they were on their way to the market or their local school and those excited faces kept me motivated for the rest of the days. I will always be grateful for their love. 🙂

Our younger students at Mankhurd, Mumbai.