Meet Vishal...

            “In Shankar Bhuvan, you can find any type of masti (mischief) you are looking for,” says Vishal’s father. “Liquor, gambling, fighting, foul language – It’s always going on in the streets.”

            The environment is hardly suitable for raising a family, but Vishal’s mother and father have no choice. With his father as the sole breadwinner, and five mouths to feed, they cannot afford to move out of the Shankar Bhuvan slum.

            Vishal has mixed feelings about his community. He has lived in Shankar Bhuvan all his life. He knows how to navigate the narrow labyrinth of alleys, squeezing past wandering goats and stepping over stray dogs who seek shelter from the blazing Ahmedabad sun. He has built a group of trusty playmates who offer him constant company. With his family and friends in the area, Vishal is never at a loss of people to spend time with.

But upon further thought, Vishal begins to reveal the various difficulties in Shankar Bhuvan that he has faced.

            Like most residents of the area, Vishal’s family does not have a toilet in their home. They have no other option than to use the riverbank as a mass toilet, along with the thousands of other people and no privacy.

            “It’s just not right,” Vishal says. “If I have to go to the bathroom at night, I’m scared to go to the river.”

            His face contorts in disgust and distress as he thinks about the conditions.

            Although Vishal is playful and often smiling, his manner changes suddenly to one of anger and frustration when he becomes upset. And living among men who drink often, and children with little guidance of what is right and wrong, Vishal is often angered by neighbors who misbehave and speak rudely.

            “When the other boys use foul language, I get so mad,” Vishal says. “I lose my head and feel like hitting them.”

            Vishal spreads his hands far apart, illustrating how angry he becomes.

            “I don’t feel just a little angry,” he says. “I feel very, very angry.”

            His EKATVA mentors have coached him in ways to curb his anger and check his physical reactions to those who anger him. But Vishal admits that it is a work in progress.

           

Meet Asha...

            Asha is tall, charismatic, and according to her teachers at the Ashramshala, very stubborn. A conversation with her is impressive, but lacks the innocence or candor you’d expect from a 13-year old girl. She has a film star-esque quality to her smile – bright and beautiful, plastered on her face as she searches for the “right” thing to say.

            Yet, someone with Asha’s background cannot be expected to have much girlish innocence. Asha’s family lives in Shankar Bhuvan, a slum area in Ahmedabad known for its tough crowd, and rough living conditions. The narrow alleys that weave through the community are dotted with men exchanging cigarettes and liquor, spitting at the feet of passersby as crude language rolls off their tongues.

            Two years ago, Asha’s parents eagerly took the chance to put Asha and her younger sister in the children’s hostel at Gandhi Ashram.

            “I wanted to get a good education so I can move ahead in life,” Asha says, a response almost too wise for her years. Despite her prodigious claim, the transition to hostel life was not easy for Asha. As she describes the loneliness she felt when other girls did not include her in their games, and as her sister found new friends to join, her smiling and charming veneer shows a crack of candid unease.

            Her troubles were not limited to making friends. The contrast between the disciplined environment at the Ashramshala and the abrasive life in the slums became apparent in Asha’s schoolwork. Her teachers hassle her to pay more focus on her studies, but she is not used to being around those who value education.

            “My friends at Shankar Bhuvan used to always trouble our teachers,” Asha explains. “With them, I never took my studies seriously. Now everyone says I’m not making an effort in the Ashramshala, but I am trying. It’s just that I’m not used to studying. Even a little effort seems like a big one.”

            While effort is relative, Asha’s poor grades and negligent attitude toward her lessons cannot be overlooked. After failing her mid-year Ashramshala exams in February, Asha was warned that her spot in EKATVA was at risk unless she improved her study habits. But she was not left to tackle her schoolwork on her own. Her mentors at Manav Sadhna took out time for extra tutoring, and her friends at the Ashramshala would sit with her late at night after dance rehearsal, to help her practice her lessons.

But when results for the end-of-year exams were tallied, Asha’s performance was disappointing. Her failing marks in every subject left no doubt that her focus in her schoolwork had not been sincere.

Until she demonstrates a sincere effort and improvement in her studies, Asha is no longer a part of EKATVA.

            Asha’s mentors explained to her that the purpose of this production is not as simple as taking 16 children from the slums on a tour around the world. EKATVA is an experiment in uplifting children from poverty to self-sustainability, by supporting them holistically and showing them the fruits of hard work. To include Asha in this journey while she continues her bad study habits would be a disservice to her and the person she has the potential to become. She has been given one more chance to apply herself and add value to the message EKATVA seeks to send to the world.

Meet Sanjay...

When Sanjay’s father was in second grade, his teacher slapped him on the hand with a ruler one day for misbehaving. He never went back to school. “Because I was afraid of being hit again, I missed out on an education. I want Sanjay to realize I am doing majoori (labor) work because I am uneducated”

Sanjay and his family live in Ram Rahim no Tekro, a slum area in Old Ahmedabadfamous for the communities of Hindus and Muslims that live side-by-side. Both his parents do majoori, and are desperate for their children to find a way out of their difficult and unstable lifestyle.

A few years ago, Sanjay began ragpicking to earn some extra income for his family, who were in danger of losing their home. He would go through mountains of rubbish in the slums around his home and collect enough scraps of paper to earn about 30 rupees per day.

“My neighbor’s son was ragpicking near the river once, and he got swept away,” Sanjay explained. “I was afraid something like that would happen to me, or that I would get kidnapped.”

The conditions were unimaginable and dangerous, especially for a 10-year old boy, but Sanjay continued ragpicking for several months to help his family.

“As a laborer, you can’t always expect the work to be pleasant.”

Sanjay’s parents hope that EKATVA will equip their son with the tools to build a lifestyle that is not based on hard labor. But it was not clear from the beginning whether Sanjay would be a good fit for this journey. Unlike the other children who were selected based on their potential as performers, strong academics and attitude, Sanjay does not particularly excel in any of these criteria.

He does not show natural talent as a dancer, and his schoolwork is poor. His mother describes him as absentminded, “When I send him to the market to buy five things, he will only come back with one,” she explained.

            “It’s like things fly out of my mind when I need to remember them,” he says. This forgetfulness, in addition to his tendency toward mischief, made him an unlikely candidate for this demanding journey.

            But although Sanjay’s qualifications seemed lacking on paper, he has demonstrated an impressive commitment to EKATVA. Everyday for over three months, he made the 40-minute bus trip across the Sabarmati River that divides Ahmedabad, to reach EKATVA practice after school.

            “In the beginning, I was afraid that I would get on the wrong bus and end up in God-knows-where,” Sanjay said.

            He has earned the trust of his parents, who do not hesitate to send him unaccompanied, and his teachers at Manav Sadhna, who have witnessed his street smarts and dependability.

            Although the responsibility of travelling alone has not always been easy, Sanjay doesn’t mind putting in the extra effort.

“Bad things take no time at all to finish,” Sanjay says. “It’s the good things that take a long time and hard work. For good things, you have to sweat.”

Meet Krishna...

            In her EKATVA journey, Krishna has learned about inner happiness and inner strength.

            “Helping others is the way to feel santosh (contentment),” the 11-year old says sagely.

            Krishna describes a young boy she met near Gandhi Ashram whose leg was handicapped from polio. As he was trying to cross the road, faced by an onslaught of speeding rickshaws and heavy buses, Krishna and her friend noticed his struggle and hurried to help him.

            “You should have seen his face when I took his hand and my friend took his bag” Krishna’s face lights up as she tells the story.

            “He was so happy. When he said thank you, I felt something good open up inside me.”

            The value of seva, or service, that Krishna has developed through EKATVA has pushed her beyond her comfort zone. Her mother explains that before, Krishna used to look out for herself only. But recently, she has noticed her daughter putting the wellbeing of her siblings and parents before her own.

            “We are one family,” Krishna says. “We should take care of each other.”

            What activities of service and compassion have done for Krishna internally, the rigorous EKATVA dance rehearsals have done for her physically, helping her realize the limits of her physical strength.

            Since the beginning of this journey, Krishna has been fragile, both emotionally and in terms of her fitness. Daily dance practice has been grueling, especially in the heat of Ahmedabad summer. The rehearsal schedule and dances demand strength and endurance, something that young Krishna was visibly lacking.

            But just as she has displayed a change in her behavior toward others, recently, her strength has improved as well.

            During the children’s exercise routine at practice one morning, the children began a contest to see who could do the most jumping jacks. Five minutes passed, and kids started dropping. Then ten minutes. The number continued to fall, as more exhausted little dancers ran out of gas. Finally, nearly 20 minutes into the contest, only two children remained. Delicate Krishna and tiny Chandani surprised everyone with their stamina, and even more so, with their will power and desire to win.

Meet Devram...

            When Devram begins to talk about his grandfather, there is a change in his body language. He sits on top of his hands, as though he is afraid someone will try to take them, and focuses his eyes ahead, on a point far away. He describes how his Dada used to give him a few rupees each day to buy fruit, before he came to live at the children’s hostel at Gandhi Ashram. Devram prefers apple or guava, but during the summer, he would bring home a mango, his Dada’s favorite.

            “He taught me only good things,” Devram says. “He taught me to never steal or lie, and to work hard.”

            Devram’s Dada also taught him to read and write. These days, surrounded by dozens of playful children at the hostel, he still prefers to study and read his school lessons in his free time, rather than join in the mischief and impromptu cricket matches with other boys.

            When his Dada passed away in January, Devram refused to take time off from school to be at home with his family, worried that he would fall behind in his studies. His eyes fill up with tears when he thinks about it.

            Despite his sadness over his grandfather’s death, Devram’s studies have not suffered. He continues to place first in his class. Yet, his future remains uncertain. In the past, the Ashramshala hostel has only accommodated children until the seventh standard. Until recently, Devram had planned to return to the Ahmedabad slum in which his family lives, and attend the public municipality school this year as he enters eighth standard. He explained that his parents did not want him to leave home again to study in another hostel, but one can sense that the wish to be home may be mutual.

However, his mentors at Manav Sadhna felt it would be a shame for his bright future and shining potential to be eclipsed by the uncertainty of life in the slum and the neglect of public schoolteachers. Since Devram has proved himself to be a hard-working and conscientious student,  Manav Sadhna has arranged for him to live in the Ashramshala while he studies and continues to attend the Gandhi Ashram School No. 1.

Meet Bharti...

Bharti seems to have it all. She has the striking expressions of an actor, the grace of a dancer, and the potential to develop her girlish presence into one of a great performer. Yet something is lacking, holding her back from the places her talent may take her.

On the surface, Bharti’s home life shines compared to her neighbors in Ramapir no Tekro, the largest slum area in Ahmedabad. The moment you cross the threshold of her home in the tekro, the background changes from dusty, barren slum-land, to glossy, tiled-floor. Bharti’s family owns a computer, bought by her grandparents as an investment in the education of Bharti and her siblings, and a refrigerator, a sign of wealth in the crowded, poverty-laden chalis, or alleyways.

            Though Bharti is happy, enjoying the masti and mischief of youth in the tekro, her story reveals difficulties – some she understands, and others she does not.

            She explains that her mother fell very ill when her youngest brother, Mehul, was born three years ago. For months, she was in and out of the hospital, experiencing seizure and faintness. Bharti’s eldest sister, Payal, studying in the 8^th standard at the time, dropped out of school to take care of their mother and manage the household work.

            When Payal later decided that she wanted to continue her studies, her father did not support her wish. As he explains, the circumstances in the household, including Bharti’s sickly mother and her 3-year old brother, have not allowed Payal to return to school.

            “Who would stay home and take care of the housework?” he asks.

            The contrast between Bharti’s colorful childhood, highlighted by experiences in Manav Sadhna and EKATVA, and Payal’s seemingly lost childhood, are stark, but underrated.

            Though Bharti doesn’t dwell on her sister’s circumstances, she worries that her parents fight often, creating tension in their home.

            “I try to make them stop,” Bharti says, with genuine adolescent angst. “I tell them they should act like adults, rather than small children.” But her parents do not see, or choose not to acknowledge, that their quarrelling has an effect on their children.

            “Family members will always fight,” Bharti’s father says. “That’s just the way it is. When Bharti tells us to stop, I say, ‘Fine, we’ll put off today’s fighting for tomorrow.’” He laughs, making light of the issue.

            The conflict and relative wealth in her home have added elements ego and friction to Bharti’s otherwise charming personality. At EKATVA dance rehearsal, she sometimes lacks focus. She shows less ambition than her peers to perfect her performance.

            In an environment like the tekro, prosperity is an abstract term. To one family, wealth refers to their herd to goats; to their neighbors, wealth is the ability to afford electricity. In such a resource-poor setting, the perception of wealth depends on the priorities of the beholder, and the attitude with which one discloses his possessions and lifestyle.

            Within Bharti’s family, seemingly prosperous with their modern possessions, symptoms of poverty exist in Payal’s interrupted education, and the household tensions caused by the often-fighting mother and father.

            Bharti describes EKATVA as an experience that has changed her completely.

            “I’ve learned about ekta [unity],” she says. “I’ve learned that when we show love to all people, regardless of age, religion, or caste, everyone benefits.”

            Only time will tell if the values Bharti is learning in her journey with EKATVA, will add prosperity to the features of her home life that bear qualities of poverty, and help her realize the wealth of talent she has been gifted.

Meet Gaurang...

“Some people just have it in their blood,” said Bharatbhai, one of 12-year old Gaurang’s mentors at Manav Sadhna, as Gaurang rapped his fingers against the sides of the metal dholak, or drum. His head leaned to the left with each beat; his eyes fixed in the distance.

Rhythm, which has manifested in his love for dancing and playing the drum, is in his blood.

             Gaurang stays in the children’s hostel at Gandhi Ashram with his younger brother Jatin. His family lives nearly two hours away in the village of Dholka. The distance has been hard for Gaurang and his parents, even after three years of staying at the hostel.

            “It’s always hard to be away from my home,” Gaurang says. “But for a good education, my parents say it is worth it.”

            For Gaurang, bright and focused in his studies, staying at the Ashramshala hostel has been worth it for more than his education.

            “If I have never come to Gandhi Ashram, this opportunity to be in EKATVA would have been lost.”

            A naturally talented percussionist, Gaurang hopes that EKATVA will be a step toward his dream of becoming a professional dhol player and dancer one day.

            When he was just six years old, Gaurang remembers listening to his uncle beat the dholak for hours during celebrations in their community. He was left in awe by the power of the instrument – the ability to energize the crowd with the simple, rhythmic sound.

            He would come home and create his own patterns and beats on an improvised dhol he made from an empty oilcan, encouraging his friends to dance as he drummed his fingers against the metal.

            Gaurang’s parents recognized his amateur talent and encouraged him to learn from him uncle. He began lessons, refining his natural dexterity and sense of rhythm.

            Through EKATVA, Gaurang has grown to appreciate his talent through dance.

            “When I hear the music, I listen to the beat carefully,” he says. “It is easy for me to dance to the rhythm. I understand how the rhythm will go because I play dhol.”

            During his vacation from school, Gaurang’s uncle takes him along to play the dhol in wedding processions. Even after of two hours of continuously striking the drum, he doesn’t feel tired.

            “I feel energized when I see people dancing to the beat that I’m making,” he says. “I cannot stop, even if I am tired. How can I ruin their fun?” 

          

Meet Chandani...

             While playing barefoot in the Gandhi Ashram one afternoon, a thorn pierced the sole of Chandani’s foot. Her playmates carried her, short and petite, into the shade without difficulty. Her naturally glossy eyes gave the impression of tears as she cringed.

            As Chandani bent over her foot in pain, her younger brother Kamal hurried over with concern. But as his expression began to crumple in worry, Chandani put on a brave face and shooed him away, reassuring him that she was not hurt badly.

            Although Chandani is small, she is strong. When she and Kamal walk side-by-side through the ashram, the 12-year old stands barely a hair taller than her younger brother. Still, she manages to pack great confidence and compassion into her petite four-foot frame.

            When Chandani left home to live in a children’s hostel two years ago, she initially felt very lonely. The Ashramshala is a hostel in Gandhi Ashram for children from the so-called “untouchable” communities. Most children, like Chandani, come from uneducated families that have done cleaning jobs for generations.

“I decided that I want to learn, even if I have to stay away from my parents,” Chandani said, “but at first it was hard.”

One year later, her parents sent Kamal to the hostel as well, with the hope that the brother and sister would support each other while getting a good education away from home. Chandani immediately assumed the role of her brother’s protector from larger, bullying boys, and advocate to teachers who overlooked his quiet nature.

“People tease him because he is small,” she explains, “but I just tell him to forget about it. I say, ‘Just because they say something mean doesn’t mean you will become that way.’”

These small grains of Gandhian insight she has gathered during her EKATVA journey have made Chandani even stronger.

“Before when anyone teased me, I would feel bad about myself and tease them back,” Chandani says. “Now, I see there is no point. I’ve learned to let go of my anger when others say mean things.”

After nursing her sore foot for a few minutes, Chandani dove into dance practice. Thorns, like unkind words, may sting for a moment. But along with EKATVA, Chandani has developed the confidence to persist toward her goal despite what others may have to say.

Meet Priyanka...

            “I love to laugh,” Priyanka flashes a 100-watt smile, framed by a pink plastic headband and perfectly plaited pigtails. “Whenever I’m sad, I try to make myself laugh,” she explains, and through Priyanka’s eyes, there is little reason in life not to laugh and be happy. She describes her home as small, but comfortable, and with pleasant neighbors. Her two older sisters shower her with love and attention when she comes home from the children’s hostel she stays in at Gandhi Ashram. She calls her mom her best friend.

            As her mother’s best friend, Priyanka believes it is her duty to not cause her any undue pain.

“I sometimes worry,” Priyanka admits, “but I do not tell my parents. I don’t want to cause them sadness.” As an outsider looking in, Priyanka’s world is filled with reasons for worry. Her parents’ cleaning jobs have unstable incomes, and any money earned is used up quickly by the household. Until recently, they lit their home with candles because they could not afford electricity. But according to her parents, life will always be filled with one worry or another.

“Showing others our worries will not reduce our own suffering,” Priyanka’s father says.  The family follows the principle of always trying to stay positive and smiling.

“We do not get defeated by little difficulties.”

Near the beginning of the EKATVA journey in June of 2010, Priyanka decided she no longer wanted to participate in the audition process. In an uncharacteristic display of tears, she explained that her legs were tired and aching from the dance lessons. Her youthful perspective did not reach beyond a few hours of discomfort, to the fruit that her efforts may produce.

 Her mentors explained to her that pain is an inevitable part of any journey of self-growth. With patience and practice, her soreness would evolve into a realization of the great potential she holds as a dancer and person.

A few days later, 11-year old Priyanka came back and gave the auditions another shot, putting aside her fear of pain. She was eventually selected as one of the final 16 children, from the initial 250 that were auditioned.

The aches and pains haven’t stopped. But now, when she stumbles during dance rehearsal, or sometimes falls from the daring human pyramid the children build in one number, Priyanka motivates herself to practice more by imagining the professional dancer she hopes to become one day.

“That is how I become stronger.”

written with love by Pooja Shah :)

Meet Vicky...

“I learned from EKATVA, that if you drop the dandiyo while dancing, you just have to continue the step without it,” Eleven-year old Vicky says. “If something is not in our hands, we have to make an effort to move forward without it.”

In moments like this, he demonstrates a clarity and wisdom beyond his years.

Vicky moves through his childhood effortlessly, with a boyish grace, despite so much that can be judged as lacking in his life. Vicky’s family, including his parents and five older siblings, inhabit two tiny, poorly lit rooms in the Shankar Bhuvan slum community.

The health issues of Vicky’s father, who suffers from tuberculosis, and Vicky’s older brother, who has periodic fits of seizures, have put an emotional and financial burden on the family. But when asked what difficulties they experience, Vicky’s automatic answer is “nothing much”.

            His parents, however, carry the weight of their poverty less easily.

            After having tuberculosis for many years, Vicky’s father only recently began treatment. He explains that he has drunk heavily for nearly 25 years. He tried to stop numerous times, urged by his children and poor health, but each time, he again took up his costly habit after a couple of sober months.

            “I used to ask him to stop, especially after he got sick,” Vicky says. “But he would always say, ‘Beta, I am helpless to this addiction. What can I do?’”

After falling ill with TB, Vicky’s father was not able to work regularly, and money became especially tight. During summer vacation, Vicky and his brothers would polish shoes on the streets to earn some extra income for the house. After one day of working busy intersections from morning till night, they would come home with about 50 rupees.

            “I had so much fun,” Vicky says, recounting this all-too-common tale of child labor as though it were an adventure.

            Although his demeanor sways between thoughtful around his elders, and playful among his peers, Vicky is rarely ill mannered. Yet, this was not always the case. His parents recall the foul language and disrespect with which he used to address others when they made him angry. Vicky too, describes how he used to threaten to run away when he did not get his way, refusing to help his mother with housework.

            “But after going to Manav Sadhna and joing EKATVA, his temper has cooled.” Vicky sits in the corner, silently and carefully scrubbing dishes as his mother describes the change she has seen in him.

            When the dandiyo sometimes slips out of his grip, Vicky manages to continue dancing with excitement, rather than regret. He draws attention to his bright smile, set below bushy eyebrows, so it’s easy to overlook what is missing from his childhood.

written by pooja shah :)