There’s a typical November winter chill in the air of Jaipur. My love for public transport (Bus number 220, to be precise) ensures that I experience the full blown impact of it, while reminiscing my past month here in the city. There’s been a surge of people, art, conversations, ideas, discussions; but all of that blurs in front of “Umang”.
Umang, as it defines itself, is an initiative towards rehabilitation of the disabled. For me, initially, it was just my placement organisation for the “Youth for Development” internship by a Delhi-based NGO Pravah. Now, it’s something that gives me a reason to wake up at 06:30 in the morning, a reason that keeps me driven till 01:30 p.m. to put every piece in my heart to see those kids as who they really are sans the veil of disability, a drive that keeps hanging through-out the day and flashes me every now and then about how much there is to be done.
If I start talking about the kids, I wouldn’t be able to stop. I’ve been awe-struck so many times by their spirit, inquisitiveness, sensitivity, flamboyance, humor etc. And you can not help but notice that, all you require is the proper environment, a prejudice-free zone and the flowers would bloom. And Umang, is doing that bit, quite well.
But for many others, there’s still a wide gap between their understanding of disability and the truth. According to WHO figures, around 10% of the world’s population or 650 million people live with disabilities of various types. Of them, India accounts for about 21.9 million (Census India, 2001). And, while we are still struggling with various myths surrounding disability, there are a lot of issues to be addressed. There’s a nightmarish dearth of disability friendly places in India. Everything from airports to ATMs, railways stations to movie theatres, restaurants to several institutions, is designed oblivious to the fact that those 10% exist. Then apart from the discrimination they face all through, there’re employment issues. And these are just the broader problems; things just get even darker when you go in details.
I see all that, and then I see the kids at Umang. I see sheer brilliance of some, utter innocence of others. I see the efforts of Umang and of those kids, and I feel bothered. I was warned by Neha a senior from Pravah, Delhi that a box of unknown, unfelt emotions might rush in unnoticed while you work for this internship. Well, she wasn’t really wrong. I still have to figure out the how, why, where, when, but I can’t go out of this internship, without making a difference; especially now, when I’m hopelessly in love with these 180 kids. So, I get out of the bus. I walk like a ghost, lost in my own thoughts and the song “Smile like you mean it” by “The Killers”. The first Umang auto is here, morning smiles and morning hugs and morning chit-chats! My smile couldn’t be more meaningful.
