Birth of a Miracle - III : Shock of Life

Period: 16 November, 1968
Location: Tiruchendur, Tamilnadu, India

The body of the child was lying in wrapped clothes in the next room for the next hours. In about two hours after the birth, the doctor's wife (a non-medical person), came down to see Mrs. Rose and the child. I had told you that the family of Mr. Rathna knew the doctor's family well. Since the hospital was functioning in the ground floor of the house of the doctor, it was easy for the lady to come and see Mrs. Rose. Also because it was a courtesy visit, as the child was "still born", as the doctor had informed her.

She was accompanied by a nurse. They spent few minutes with Mrs. Rose who was recovering, and was deeply tired. The nurse and the doctor's wife moved to see the child --more as a point of giving consolation to the family. While there, the doctor's wife asked the nurse if they had given any shock to the child. The nurse said, "No". The lady said, "I have read that electric shock can sometime bring life back, if there is some life left. Why don't you get a wire? Let us check!". Since this small sized hospital did not have any of the modern equipment, even of that time, they found a wire with naked end on either side as their tool. 

Now it was getting bizarre. They checked once more to confirm that there was no heartbeat or breathing signs of the child. This was in conformity with what Dr. Moses had told them. The doctor's wife told the nurse. "You keep one end of the wire on the child'd body. I shall keep another end into the plug, and I shall switch it on for a second, and switch off. Let's keep an eye on the child. If there is some life, we will know!"

So, this bizarre experiment of these two ladies started. The nurse kept one end of the wire on the child. The doctor's wife put the other side into the plug, and had her hands on the switch. Both were holding their breath! The child was lying on a bed under their observation for this shock....or electrocution? There was fear...suspense...worry...concern.... Both their eyes were on the child. The doctor's wife started counting, "One... Two.... Three.... ON... OFF... "Kadavuley!" (Oh, my God!) both shouted, as they had seen the little finger of the left hand of the child shaking for a second at the time when the electricity was switched on! They both shouted, "The child is alive, the child is alive!" The nurse ran up to call the doctor. The old man came down, and as he was hearing of this experiment, he checked the baby. There was very feeble heartbeat, and the child was struggling to breathe. He asked the child to be put on Oxygen, and it was given three injections within minutes. Further, it was wrapped in wool, and was kept so under medical observation for three days. 

By the third day, the child was better, and the mother too. After three more days, they left the hospital in good health. Mr. Rathna and Mrs. Rose thought of this as nothing short of a miracle. This is something not heard of! They got the child baptized immediately at the local Church following their Christian faith with the name, "Puthumai", which in Tamil means - "miracle", or "newness". 

Life in Delhi

My life in Delhi has got into a clear routine now. I wake up at 5.00 am on most of the days, and at times if I am too tired wake up at 6.00. After a wash I work till 7.00 am by checking the mails and updates on social media. I have bath at 7.00, get ready for office and by 7.45 I am on road. I reach UNICEF Country Office by 8.00 am. I have my breakfast at the canteen and I'm on my desk at 8.30. Till noon it is work....meetings....discussions....At about 1.00 pm we walk down for lunch, usually a few minutes early to avoid the rush. Back to desk in about 40 minutes. Work continues. At about 2.30 often I feel so sleepy that I doze off on chair at times. In case I doze off it is for about 15 minutes. And then work continues till 6.45 pm. I wind up, and am out on street to return to the guest house where I stay. On reaching I have a bath and begin to relax by watching some comedy channel and news channels alternately. Sharp 8.30 pm I rush around the corner to a restaurant for dinner. My favorite at this restaurant is "baigan bhartha". Usually it is a full meal, which means 2 chappatis, a little rice, dal, and two vegetables. I tried non-veg at this restaurant, but was not too happy with the quality, and so I have settled down for occasional omlette or scrambled eggs. Back to room before 9.00 pm to catch up on talk shows on television. At times the laptop is once again switched on for some more work. Usually the day ends with a long telecon with Shubhra at about 11.00 pm. 

Though there may be some minor variations on different days, the regularity has given me confidence to work. At the atmosphere at the office is great as I am slowly getting to know more and more colleagues. Just one regret: being an operations person who was always found among people on field, the centrally air conditioned office that has a whole lot of facilities still looks like a cage at times. The satisfaction comes from the fact that my interventions go a long way to influence policies, programs and millions of lives positively.

Coordination Lesson from Uttarakhand

27 Aug 2014 : Today I was in Delhi to attend the United Nations Disaster Management Team (UNDMT) organized workshop on Uttarakhand Recovery Action - Lessons Learned. Since I was the State team leader for UNDMT, I got to do a presentation. I made sure that the presentation is not a regular one with too many points or writings, but that it had ample pictures that explained the status of my own experience. So, for those who would view the presentation in PDF form, it may not make much sense...but as part of presentation, it was all fun and learning, and the presentation was appreciated by one and all. The total presentation was completed in 11 minutes. Some of the photos used in the presentation have been downloaded from the Google global search.

The presentation may be downloaded or viewed at Puthumai - Uttarakhand Presentation

Never Ending Journey

14 Feb 2014 : Both me and Dr. Mathur left Uttarkashi at noon as we were warned by the District Disaster Management Officer that anytime the roads might close as landslides have begun in some places. So, were rushing to get out. We were told that we should travel through Chamba and Rishikesh, a much longer route in comparison to Musoorie, which is the shorter route to Dehradun. In about 20 kilometers we crossed Dunda and our ordeals began. Couple of landslides had just begun and we escaped them carefully.  As we crossed what is known as Dharasu Bend, Dr. Mathur told me that the worst is over – and we are now free to travel! But that was not to be so!

Just three of kilometers ahead of us at a place called Nalpaani, a landslide from a high mountain had begun almost vertically, and it had thrown much of dirt and was throwing down small rocks. One of the vehicles had damaged its windows. As more vehicles waited, we too began to wait. When for a few minutes the rains seem to withhold, the policemen who had a mini police station next to the location let first the vehicles from the lower hills to climb up towards Uttarkashi. (Did you read it correct? Yes, they let more vehicles to climb up the hill when the landslides were actually blocking the roads.) Once all vehicles from the lower hills had crossed into the upper hills, crossing past us, now it was our turn to move ahead to safety—but then came the shocker!  In line of vehicles was a loaded truck that was standing in front. With much of the slush from the active landslide already having filled most part of the road, the truck was trying to cross it. I was wondering why the police is allowing this to happen. By the time even my thinking was over, the truck had already got stuck in the slush and now it cannot be taken out! We returned back to Dharasu Bend where we had hot rice and fish curry – which was much of the solace against the cold blowing rain. We went back to Nalpaani hoping that the truck will be taken out. Hei, there is a huge earthmover that can be utilized to pull out the truck. No, it cannot be used. Reason: the earthmover had no fuel! Comedy of errors???

Attempt to pull the truck hadn’t succeeded till 5.45 pm, and it was getting dark. We began to look for a place to stay for the night. A little guest house at the Nalpaani and a smaller one at Dharasu Bend were already full with stranded people from couple of buses and private vehicles like ours. People suggested that we travel to Brahmakhal, about 15 kilometers from Dharasu Bend and leave for Dehradun the next morning through Badkot, an alternate route. So, we climbed to Brahmakhal and stayed at Hotel Dhruv for the night, after having some chapatti and vegetables for dinner.

Photo taken from outside my room of our hotel

As we woke up on 15^th morning, a Saturday, we were welcomed by four inches of snow and the snowfall continued till 10.00 am. We had been badly stuck in the snows. Once the roads got better with the snow melting and people voluntarily clearing part of the roads, we took the risk of going back to Dharasu bend, as the previously planned route to Badkot had totally been closed with over 3 feet of snowfall in the higher ridges that we would otherwise have taken. We were happy by then that the rains had stopped and the roads will be opened at Nalpaani. But to our dismay, just about a mile before we reached the Dharasu Bend, the road we had taken the previous night, had closed with fall of huge rocks and boulders. Now that is what destiny would have it!

We called up few officials hoping that the road would be cleared. But nothing was happening. Meanwhile we walked down to Dharasu Bend, took lunch, carried some lunch for the driver, and then asked him to go back if the roads don’t open by 5.00 pm so that he can stay with the vehicle at Brahmakhal in a safer environment. Both me and Mr. Mathur walked and crossed the Nalpaani and another landslide about a kilometer from there, and then took a jeep to Chiniyalisaur. I decided to stay that night in Chiniyalisaur, and not take the risk of traveling late at night through the mountains to Dehradun.

Next morning at 11.00 am, the driver along with the vehicle came after all the roads were opened, and then I traveled to Dehradun and reached at 5.45 pm – dead tired. By the way: what or whom should I blame for the ordeal? The nature’s fury?  My luck? The policemen who did not follow proper order in passing vehicles? The journey that should have taken just six hours turned out to be a terror of 54 hours.

In the midst of Children

On 12 Feb I traveled in the afternoon from Dehradun to Uttarkashi. Since it was already late I preferred to stay at Chiniyalisaur, a small and beautiful town en route. I also took the opportunity to visit Mary Mata School, a high school that imbibes Christian values among students. Fr. Joey invited me to stay on that night as it was already late and in any case it would not have made much sense to travel to Uttarkashi as I was to visit next morning Dunda which is closer from Chiniyalisaur than Uttarkashi.  We  took a walk to the Officers’ Recreation Room where some boys were playing table tennis. Boy! I too started playing table tennis after 15 years….! The boys in their late teens and early twenties were playing very slow, and I told them how the game must be played faster, and I played faster! I ended up losing the first game at 13-21, the second I lost at 19-21, and the third I won at 21-14! Impressive! The boys appreciated that at my age I had the power to play the game after a decade and a half.

On 13^th I spent the whole day in several field visits and meetings – and the height of the day was the visit to Gunalgaon village supported by Mata Amritanandamayi Math Trust (MAMT) where I spent some time at the Anganwadi (ICDS center) with 3 – 5 year olds checking how the education and health services are met for these children. A few of those children were very talkative and started climbing on me, sitting on my lap… I took the opportunity to check if the children are able to recognize the Tabs that  MAMT has provided to the anganwadi for educational purposes. I also asked the teacher to demonstrate how she teaches the children. There were issues in the way she was teaching. I took those issues up with the MAMT volunteers who were accompanying me.

On 14^th morning I woke up to heavy rainfall lashing through the mountains. It had turned to be extremely cold in comparison to the previous day. Luckily, I did not have to walk out for breakfast, as the hotel where I was staying did not serve food. A friend, Mr. Stephen was kind enough to bring some homemade parathas and tea for me and Dr. P.D.Mathur who heads the coordination efforts in the district. And thus began the ordeal of a journey that lasted from 6 hours to 54 hours!

The 400th Post, Some Maps and Books

This is the 400th Post in my blog, and the first in 2014. I did not expect 2013 to be such a dull year in terms of the number of postings. And the way it started and with so many activities happening around, I had wished that 2013 would have one of the highest number of posts. But, on the other hand, I got so engrossed with so many good things, bad things and works that are intended to bring relief and solace to millions, that I had no time to sit and write the blog itself. The reason is the engagement in other social media. In spite of the little time only that I spend on the social media, because they give a sense of having got in touch with friends and colleagues at the end of the day, one begins to feel that...Well, I wanted to say, I have already said it in my Facebook or Twitter or LinkedIn or Google+. When you have so many options, and that you can post it in Google+ or in LinkedIn and remain connected to others via the tabs or the smartphone, why should one need to sit down to write a blog of this kind?

In the last few days, I spent a bit of time with remote support from the staff of Center for Knowledge and Skills in preparing two sets of maps. The first was a simpler one : updating the mangrove forest plantation of Tagore Society for Rural Development (TSRD) in the Sunderbans. After the last mapping of areas in April 2013, TSRD had undertaken forest plantation in areas that had not been covered. 128 acres have been covered in the period from April to Nov 2013. Thank you TSRD for giving the opportunity once again to CKS for doing the mapping. The other mapping for which I took the help of CKS was using a lot of data and information available about Uttarakhand, and make the maps and information speak upfront. A few of these maps are available in ukresponse.blogspot.com 

I also took the opportunity to read a few books late at nights. Some of the good ones that I got hold of are from Malcolm Gladwell....and enjoying reading them, starting from "Outliers", "Thinking without Thinking"....etc.

Where Government Meets People: Governance

I have recently begun to observe one important factor that really makes people feel that the government is closer to the people: an officer picking up a phone. In the last 14 years that I am carrying a cellphone, and have been connected with countless officers of various rank and file as I work in the arena of disaster management, I have seen how people can feel recognized and accepted. In one of the recent meetings a senior staff (both in age and experience) of an NGO commented in the presence of some very senior officers: "Whomsoever I phone, the only person I am sure will pick my phone, or shall call back is the UNDMT (United Nations Disaster Management Team) Coordinator sitting in the district or the state." It stuck me hard. 

Why do people get disillusioned with governments? Why do they think that the government doesn't heed to them? I myself have experienced this. I keep calling some officers three to four times a day, at different times of the day. But he / she just doesn't pick the phone. They do not have the courtesy to call back, if they were busy at the time of my calling. When I checked with other officers as to why such things happen, they mentioned that the particular officer may not have my number in his / her cellphone! That is surprising. How am I supposed to get my number into his/her phone? Send an SMS? You don't get replies!

As the day wears out you feel upset. Now if this is what happens to someone who understands the system, imagine what about ordinary people. It is not that all officers are of the same class. I have seen  at least three officers here who usually pick the phone or send a text message that they would call back, if they are busy. May be they forget to call me back later in the thick of activities, but I am glad that they acknowledged the call ! 

One important way for governments to show that they are accessible to people is to pick up the phone. It might cost time. But if you don't, it would cost the government! If a bureaucrat does not pick the phone, an elected representative of the government will lose votes in the election, and be shunted out! How on earth are people to believe that the government is closer to them? By governance. By making them feel that their needs are heard. By giving them the satisfaction that their calls will not be turned away. It is not all about solving problems. It is about making people heard, and recognized -- recognized as persons whose voice, time and self has a worth. 

About the three people who make me feel that they are with the people - I shall write in my next post.

Five Years of Blogging

I didn't realize that I have completed five good years of blogging! Started on 3 June 2007, to be precise it is five years, two months and three days. The first three years got the maximum number of blog posts - almost one post on every fourth day. But the worst years where 2010 and 2011, the time when I had to reinvent myself. I see that I have already overtaken 2011, and will be in all probability crossing 2010 as well, and so, this year, I might end up with about 60 posts. I have shared so many reports, pictures, videos and my own views using this blog. I just love it.

The blogs have been my constant companion, They gave me opportunity to tell the world what it was all about Puthumai when Facebook was hardly known and Twitter was not known. It was also a place I could give window to my feelings. It is also the place where I could spell out my plans, dreams, hopes and who mattered in my life on that particular day or moment. My visits to the USA, Germany and my relationship with Seattle University occupy a lot of space, all thanks to Julia from Germany and Sean from Seattle. 

I remember the days, when if I google my name in Google Search, the name would appear as one of the last, in the 10th or 12th page. Today, you just enter Puthumai, and the first one you would find is this blog, and there is a lot more about me in the subsequent URLs offered. That's all because of the visibility this blog built for me. No wonder, more than 22,300 hits this blog has received in the last five years according to Statcounter that I added within months after I opened my blog. Later, on 17 Dec 2009, I added Clustermaps to see from how many locations people are viewing my blog, and it shows from over 72 countries and over 3,300 locations people have hit the blog since the end of Dec 2009.  Still I have problem with this.... It keeps telling me to join Google Adsense. But it doesn't seem to much sense for me.

This blog has just journeyed with me. Thank you Blogger. Thank you Google.

Selling Poverty

I was traveling on 08 May from Malda to Bolpur by the Malda - Bardhamman passenger train, after a visit to Raiganj. This train is usually not very crowded, and so I get ample space to continue to work on my laptop. As I completed working I gentleman in his mid-thirties who had joined me en route about a few stations before I shut down the laptop started the conversation in Bangla language.

Co-Passenger: Sir, Where are you traveling to?
Puthumai: I am going to Bolpur

Co-Passenger:Are you a doctor ?
Puthumai: No, I am not. I work in an NGO on polio and on disaster management.

Co-Passenger: Is it possible if you can find a job for a very poor young man? He deserves it. He is very poor.
Puthumai: Hmm...hmm. What does he know to do?

Co-Passenger: He is a very deserving person, and he is very poor. He needs a job very much....
Puthumai: But that is not a qualification for a job. Poverty is not a qualification for job. You tell me what that young man can do. Say for example, he can clean the house, he can maintain a garden. You don't tell me nor anyone that because someone is poor one must give a job. By the fact that some one gets to "do a job", one must be capable of doing what is on offer. So, tell always what one can do, and then say "also this person is poor, and so he also additionally needs the job."
There was a couple of minutes of silence. Then,


Co-Passenger: I am actually talking about myself.
Puthumai: What do you do?

Co-Passenger: I drive tractors. But I don't earn much on that.
Puthumai: Do you know to drive trucks....small or big?

Co-Passenger: Yeah, I do.
Puthumai: Great! So, now you have some potential. I know many drivers who shift to Andhrapradesh, Karnataka, Delhi, Punjab, Tamilnadu and Kerala as the drivers get paid much higher in those states. Why don't you try out something there.

Co-Passenger: I had once been to Kerala. The money was good. But I had problem with food and language.
Puthumai: What work were you doing in Kerala?

Co-Passenger: Mostly menial labor in construction sites and house repairs.
Puthumai: You did something that every other laborer does. You did not do something special that you are capable of....driving tractors and trucks for which salary is high, and there are very less people in those states who can do it. As for language and food, you could have shifted to some other high paying state where Hindi is spoken, and that you could have managed easily. Or, why don't you approach a bank to give you a loan to buy a tractor. That could bring in more money as you will be the owner of the tractor.

Co-Passenger: (another couple of minutes of silence) Thank you. My destination has arrived. I must get down. Thank you for the discussion.

After a minute the train stopped, and he got out of the train....then he looked at me, and walked away with a smile. I am not sure if I guided him right. But I know that selling poverty doe not work. Selling abilities does. Our poor must be taught to look at their abilities and not at the vacuums in life.

Chelsea

This is not about the famous European soccer team. This is about a student from Seattle University who stayed with me three years ago. Chelsea was the first student to come to me "officially" as an intern. She was amazingly simple, and shared the joys and sufferings I went through in those days in 2009. She was someone to whom I could open my heart and confide. She could see through human heart and understand the underlying pain every person undergoes. Amazingly simple. She left an indelible mark in my life. Though I never wrote much about her in any of my posts, she kept coming back to my mind repeatedly, and so I thought I must write about her. 

Chelsea, for the rosy cheeks she had, was adorably honest with what she said. During her three months of stay, she would come straight and say if she would like to have something or would say how she can contribute to improve something. Gentle to the core, her words were never hurtful. I wish I had more time to spend with this extraordinary woman, who would only go up in life. (Update: Chelsea is now in South America as a Peace Corps volunteer.)

Saving Grace...

The Lenten season is on. Time for reconciliation, period of receiving God's grace through one's own act of charity, forgiveness and penance. Charity is in giving until it hurts. Forgiveness is in begging pardon for one's own acts of revenge, anger, sinfulness, and it is equally in terms of coming forward to forgive others even before one asks for it. This is a time of penance that should help one take control of emotions and feelings that can endanger anyone's life, dignity or name.

There is that element of eeriness floating in the Lenten air. A sense of deprivation, partaking in the sadness of the Master who wants to die a culprit's death, and a sense of loneliness that is pronounced in longer hours of prayer and silence. 

Almost every day I walk to some of the streets in Howrah and I see women and children handling filthy water that is home to every disease one can think of, and see children of Muslim brethren working in the household cloth industry with no thought of education or access to health and other services.  I know many of their houses and the roads that lead to their homes go under water exposing these people to more diseases. What is dignity to them? Grace is supposed to fill upon grace. But here, saving grace is yet to come.

I return back tired, almost deadly, and sleep off wondering if there will be a better tomorrow. Can the turn of every Lent bring in the joy of Easter?

People's Joy, My Joy

On 11 Feb, I managed to drag myself into the Sunderbans, in spite of so many works hanging around my shoulders. It was time to meet the people. It was also an occasion to meet some of the senior officials from ECHO who were on a trip to the Sunderbans to review one of the projects they were supporting. Since, in Brajabhallavpur, Patharpratima Block, South 24 Parganas district, we have initiated the Manually Operated Display Boards (MODB) that display the wind speed, rainfall prediction and tide height in some of their partner areas, I went there to support and enable better understanding of the system. So, in stead of me explaining the system, I was asking the men, "Can you tell me what is all these?" They explained so well that it put me to understand that the extra mile I as a person and what CKS as an organization has taken is a step in the right direction. I asked the women, "Can you explain what these red, yellow and green stand for? And what will you do practically if you see these signs?" Amazingly, some of the women explained it very beautifully. Then came my poser, "Do you think that the information given here is actually matching with reality as experienced by you?" The women said, "Yes, one day the board read that there would be 4 mm rainfall. And there was lots of clouds throughout the day, and there was some mild shower in the evening." The men joined the chorus, " The information on tide is absolutely correct. We have verified it by placing a bamboo inside the water and testing the height. It was absolutely fine. And the wind speed too changes as it is mentioned in the board."

I can recall the joy of the people on their face. I know that this time, if another cyclone like Aila comes, people know that they would be alerted early, and they know what to do. One simple step is a big leap for the mankind. I am satisfied. The joy of the people is my own joy as well.

Whose child is it, anyway?

On 20 Dec evening I went to a fast food restaurant that is close to CKS office for picking couple of parathas for dinner. I have visited this place several times. But that day I saw a young lad of about 12 years old doing odd jobs at the restaurant. The social worker in me woke up. Usually I do not eat in places where they employ children. Since I had already given order for the food, I took the opportunity to educate the manager of the restaurant. As the discussion went on one more gentleman to joined towards the end. The discussion went this way: Puthumai: Sir, may I speak to you something? Manager: Yes Puthumai: It is about the little lad working here. Manager: (agitatedly) So, what? Puthumai: The boy looks too small to work in the restaurant. You know that no child below 14 years is allowed to work in any commercial or domestic establishment in India? Manager: (angrier now) So, what do you want me to do now? Shall I send him away? Then he will go around stealing things. He will start snatching from people's necks (gold chains). He will come and steal from your house! Why don't you take him to your house, feed him, clothe him and educate him. I have no problem! Puthumai: (changes the strategy) No, my point is not that you are doing something wrong. I wish to tell you that in case of a raid you could be caught for employing a child! Manager: Ha... I know all the officers. They come here. They sit and eat out here. The Food Officer once asked about a boy I had employed. I told him I shall meet him at his home. And I took the boy to him and I told him to keep the boy, feed him and educate him. That's it! Will he? No! He just let me go! Puthumai: I see! Where does this boy hail from? Manager: (with a softened tone) He is a tribal boy. Look, his father had three children. And he has left them, and is living with another woman. What will these children do? Start stealing? This boy was working with me for a few days. Then because he was naughty, I sent him away. And he started stealing petty things around. And one day the police picked him for snatching a woman's gold chain. They beat him and they sent him back, because there is no point in pursuing the case for police! What will they do with him? Sent him to juvenile home? There are too many there, already. And pressing a case against him is useless for them. Then again I brought him here. At least he gets to eat here and gets some small amount of money. And learns the job! Can the government give job or teach job to everybody? Puthumai: No, that is not possible. Manager: Exactly. And if these boys are not engaged, then they will become Maoists! A customer: What did you say? Manager: What else? It is easier for the politicians to speak all big things. But can they do it? Can they educate and feed all children in the country? What is the perceptional rule in the country? Tribals are Maoists, Muslims are Terrorists! That's the perception going on.... Puthumai: Well, Sir, I need to go. But it was interesting to talk to you. See you. Good night. Manager: Good night. I began to wonder on my way back - With the Food Security Bill on the anvil in the Indian Parliament, and the Right to Education Act in place already, can we really change the mindsets? Can we really change the life of Indian children's destiny positively? Can the governments really take up these practical issues seriously? Or, are we going to be consigned to the fate of having millions of children like this one in the land of Rabindranath Tagore and Amartya Sen growing up uneducated, less fed and with no social respect for himself?