FIFTH COLUMN
Evil That Men Can UndoDon't attack
the church Mr Singhal. Match its charitable work.
By Tavleen
Singh
It's called the Pavement Club because its only members are
Mumbai's streetchildren. It is attached to a small church in a grubby back lane and this
past week I had the privilege to witness what happens every Friday when the club meets. It
was one of the more moving experiences of my life to see the most dispossessed, most
forsaken of India's children being allowed for at least one afternoon into the warmth and
comfort of a room with a roof on it. And to be provided their only chance in the whole
week to get a glimpse of what childhood is meant to be. They sang, they danced, they
played with toys and left after being given the only square meal they get in seven days.
Some of the children were so small they could barely
toddle. But already they had been put on the streets to earn their living by parents too
poor, too illiterate and too hardened by the misery of their own lives to do anything
else. The church in which the Pavement Club meets is so much the only home they have ever
known that when in a drawing class they were asked to draw a house, the children drew the
church. "We felt so foolish," a volunteer told me, "to have asked them to
draw a house. We hadn't realised that they didn't know what a house was."
Just as they don't know what it is to have a proper family,
two square meals a day, a school to go to or even the right to dream, as many do, that
they will "grow up and become Amitabh Bachchan". The only love, and I repeat
this deliberately, the only caring, the only brief glimpse of childhood these children
have ever known is what they get every Friday afternoon in the stained-glass filtered
sunlight of this small church.
Which is probably why my stomach turned even more than
usual when I read in the following morning's newspapers that Ashok Singhal, the VHP's
loudest loudmouth, had told a meeting of Hindutva's warriors in Ahmedabad that more Hindus
had become Christians since Independence than in all the years of British rule. "This
poses a danger to the culture and religion of the Hindus," he is reported to have
said.
What culture Mr Singhal? What religion? If instead of
utterly useless dharam sansads (religious parliaments) to discuss how to attack a tiny
minority community, a dharam sansad is held to discuss what Hindu religious organisations
could and should do to help poor and deprived Indians then -- and only then -- could we
begin to start talking about culture and religion. A country in which the average child is
denied that most fundamental of rights, the right to childhood, should think twice before
it talks about such grand ideas as culture and religion. Especially when its religious
organisations spend more time breeding thugs like the Bajrang Dal than doing anything to
help children who have nobody to help them.
The irony is it would be so easy for the various
organisations that gather under the umbrella of Hindutva to do a million times more than
what the church does. The mother of the Sangh Parivar, the mighty RSS, organises thousands
of shakhas (meetings) every morning in India's towns and villages. It gathers together
children, sometimes as deprived as the members of the Pavement Club, and teaches them the
virtues of patriotism and outdated systems of exercise and martial arts. Would it be so
hard for them to be fed after their morning exertions? Would it be so hard for every
shakha to also run a small school for those children who have no other schools to go to?
The VHP's dharam sansad in Ahmedabad began with the demand
that the Government pass a "harsh law" to ban the activities of Christian groups
and prevent the flow of foreign funds to them. It also asked for a white paper on
"anti-India conspiracies".
If only, ah if only, there was one halfway intelligent
human being among the sort of people who attend these gatherings, he would have got up and
said that if there are anti-India conspiracies then it is for the Government to deal with
them. More significantly, he may have pointed out to the Hindutva warriors that instead of
demanding a ban on the activities of the church, they may make more of a difference if
they tried to emulate some of these activities. Emulate for instance the compassion that
is required to set up even one small Pavement Club.
Imagine the difference a million Pavement Clubs could make.
We wouldn't have to face the daily horror of seeing India's children scrabbling through
the garbage heaps of our cities. We are almost the only country left where this kind of
abhorrent sight still exists. What makes it even more repugnant is that our religious
organisations seem so much more capable of spreading hatred and venom than compassion and
knowledge.
When this whole campaign against Christians started, the
prime minister asked for a national debate on conversions. It was a silly idea. Because
every human being has the right to convert to whichever religion he wants. But what about
a national debate on why our religious organisations are so incapable of doing the sort of
good things that usually compensate for the trouble religion brings in its wake? What
about a national debate on why they show such a worrying absence of compassion? |