Hope (and a lil' effort from my side!)

The stench was overbearing. The heavens above did not ease the foulness emitted by the landscape - it had poured a few minutes ago, adding considerably to the rancid stink. Used plastic bags greeted your way, you had to play dodge with potholes filled with water, spit, shit & other unimaginables. The local beef-hawker had hung his day's offerings in his ramshackle shop; rabid flies going berserk around them, no doubt adding extra punch to the meat. You stifle the bile rising in your throat which is threatening to break-free of its confines. The stench gratefully subsides, and so does the bile. But then your senses are almost immediately attacked by another vision: a vision choc-a-bloc with humans - men going about their day hawking their wares; women on their way to the plush neighbourhood alongside to work as bais; men plying dilapidated handcarts, old men preparing hot chai, little boys and girls in shabby uniforms scurrying to the municipal school and of course, THE Mumbai-special: faltoo (my friend puts it that way) taporis just sitting, lazing around with mouths agape, and staring at passing people. In this part of the city, everything happens in the public. Occurrence is in the open. There's no hiding, no shame and no privacy. The need for these basic luxuries pales in comparison with the need for basic necessities - roti, kapda aur makaan. For these residents, to procure even these daily requirements is a herculean task - a fight, or lafda in Mumbaiyya lingo.

Our destination: Anjuman-e-Islam College, Bandra. The purpose: the Teach India campaign. The route: A narrow, winding bylane - right in the centre of a growing slum, which incidentally happened to be the longer route to the college. A much shorter and cleaner route existed on S.V. Road, Bandra (West), but perhaps I was destined to go through this raw, punishing landscape. I had always wished to traverse through a slum one day. As they say - Be careful of what you wish for; you might just get it!

Armed with nothing but our volunteer IDs and a humble determination to make a difference to the society - to give back what it has given to us - we entered the auditorium of the college. It was humid and hot, but we were early and hence could choose seats just below a merciful fan. Then people started trickling in, one by one.... and the sight amazed me. Everyone was here - professionals, college students, housewives and even some foreign nationals. From all ranks of the society - rich, middle-class and poor. All of them were sincerely committed to the cause of teaching children - according to me - the noblest service that one could provide to the society. Cause the children of today will shape the future of tomorrow. And what better way than this to shape them - by arming them with education, which is (and should be) a basic necessity but available to only a select few.

The various NGOs present at the place put forward their causes: what they did, whom they did it for and what they expected of us. The appeal was for nothing opulent or grand. All they wanted was our time. A contribution that we could all easily make - two hours in a week for 3 months. As simple as that. And we pledged to give it to them.

The program hasn't begun yet. Many nitty-gritties have to be ironed out. Many questions have to be answered and many instructions to be given. But I am excited from the onset. I do hope they call me to help. I hope I am given the chance to give back to the society. I hope I am able to do something for those kids who have been deprived of their rights. I hope I am successful.

I know I am sounding like a hopeful Miss India candidate ;) But unlike them beauties with fake smiles plastered across their faces and rehearsed lines to charm the public with, my wishes come directly from my heart, and I am determined to fulfil it! Even if I have to cross a hundred more slums to do it!