Kolkata
ByRows of bright inquisitive eyes watched hesitantly as little fingers scooped up rice grains from metal plates. Occasionally the kids were distracted by the lady in the bright sari dishing up another ladle of rice from her bucket.
Here in the tribal areas of West Bengal the rural poor barely scraped a living as landless labourers. Yet if their children were healthy, these people living on the edge of starvation counted themselves lucky. The burden imposed by a disabled child with cerebral palsy, autism or mental retardation could tip the balance.
This was the stark reality of modern two tier India, desperate crushing povery living intimately with exravagant middle class wealth. It was the contrast that was staggering rather than the absolute levels of degradation. We’d seen poverty first hand when we lived in Sub Saharan Africa. Somehow though it didn’t seem so unjust when the whole country was poor.
That’s not to say there was no social conscience here. We were introduced to rural charities by our good friends at the Indian Institute of Cerebral Palsy. In one village the parents, supported by dedicated local volunteers had set up a special school and therapy centre in an old government building. They had even acquired a bus to bring severely disabled children in from outlying villages. That was a huge advantage because it not only meant that the kids could get some treatment and a basic education but it released both parents to earn a meagre living.
At an even more remote village we were entranced by Sharmila a lady who had used her own savings and prevailed upon her family to establish a centre for disabled kids. So we were all the more embarrassed when we were welcomed with garlands and people trying to touch our feet as marks of respect.
The next day we were delighted to meet Sharmila again as one of the sixty two directors of NGOs and Charities who attended our three day management workshop in Calcutta. Working with Sonali and Chhetri our Indian Institute of Cerebral Palsy friends was fantastic. Chhetri had a sense of humour which was completely in tune with ours. So when he translated a joke into Bengali he often added a complimentary one of his own. The whole tenor of the conference was positive with mutual support and respect. At the end, the delegates joined in a song dedicated to the success of the seminar. It was a wonderful experience.
Calcutta was unmistakably a British city. There were magnificent buildings like the white marble Victoria Memorial which was still maintained. But there were also crumbling old insurance buildings which made the place look a bit like Manchester or Glasgow after sixty years of neglect. Like most India cities Calcutta was also dirty and grimy with a shifting layer of litter which never seemed to dissipate but there were also pavements and this made the town navigable on foot and so much more enjoyable.
Rising away the centre were sparkling new high rise buildings and modern office blocks in Salt Lake, a suburb of Kolkata, as the city is now called. So the sixteen million plus population continues to expand as the middle class grows and the gap between rich and poor widens.
