A new hope!

By Sinjini Sengupta (St. Stephen's College)

On a sunny Sunday morning, a courtyard erupts into a cacophony of sounds produced by the inhabitants of the building during the course of different leisurely and yet spirited activities. One can, observe, though that the spiritedness is strained and there is something bothering them deep down. Sure enough, when one strikes a conversation with any of them, their hopes and aspirations and the difficulty of realizing these, throw light upon the struggle of these beings, who are but children.

As we, the students of St. Stephen's College, stepped onto the premises of Nayee Asha, an orphanage in Meerut, some of the children greeted us with smiles and 'namastes'. We first met the head of the orphanage who sadly reflected on how people suffering from leprosy are forced to send their children to live far away at this orphanage and how they have to cope with dearth of funds for running the place. We felt awkward when some of the older girls served us tea and our awkwardness intensified further when we learnt that they had to perform many everyday chores at the orphanage because other, more expensive workers were unaffordable. "So, when do you girls study then?" some of us asked anxiously. "We are used to managing everything didi,” came the soft reply with a wry smile.

It was this wryness that disturbed us since the day we visited the orphanage. The sweets and clothes that we had taken for them were accepted by them by standing mechanically in queues, and not betraying any sense of enthusiasm or joy. Gradually, however, as we approached them to join us in different games and break out in merry dance steps, they displaced diverse talents simultaneously. The way their eagerness grew for the rest of the day seemed as though a tiny bit of encouragement and indulgence was all they needed to remain just as cheerful, doing what they do best. But, oh hard fate! At an orphanage with so many children, any form of indulgence to an individual is unthinkable. So every day, these children attend school classes in the same building with a joyless disposition, and the only thing that rouses them into life is the bell that announces the meals. Indeed, that day we saw them running frantically towards the dining hall even before the bell had stopped ringing. Before lunch, led by their headmaster, they chanted in loud, restless voices what appeared to be an everyday prayer learnt by rote, thanking God for their food. We went around the hall that day, taking over the job of serving the children their lunch, trying our best to keep up with the pace with which they finished every helping of rice.