Salim

The story of Salim:

I promised myself that I would not dwell on the negativity but some things just stay away with you to keep popping into your head like a recurring nightmare.

After watching a small documentary based on Nithari killings on CNN, I could not help myself to divert my mind from all this. Needless to mention, this Noida incident was horrifying in itself but, if I look around, there are thousands of children suffering from this neglect, to say the least. No matter, how many NGOs are working to get their heads around it.

It’s worse.

None of us know the first thing about how to help these kids. I know, how difficult it is and how easy it is as well.

Few days back, my friend and I once tried to help a seven year old bleeding profusely from the head. He was stopped in a faint near Jama Masjid and his eyes were swollen to the extent that they were mere slits when fully open. We took him to a government hospital where I was quite sure he would die of neglect. But to my surprise , not only did they treat him immediately, they even took him for free CT scan and gave him a clean bed in a childcare's ward.

His name was Salim.

When he was better enough to talk, we got at least three different stories about the injury:

1. First, he said he fell off a perch frm the roof of the bus stop where he slept. I could believe that.

2. The next time he said, he had been in a tussle with a friend who beat him up. I could belive that too.

3. Yet another story was that he was running from the police who do a routine chase of street kids.

Yes, I could even believe that. But which was the true story?

Anyway, few days later, in my attempt to smother him with affection and attention, I asked him what he'd like me to bring for him evenings. And the answer was always the same : Toys.

The first time, he asked for them, I thought I had heard wrong. I expected him to ask for clothes and shoes and snacks, but no. The little stress free time he had when he wasn't running away from home or bullies or police was spent being a child.

He just wanted to play.

Finally, I got the real story from him. He had run away from home because his grandma threatened to burn him with a tong for some negligence. When he got to Delhi, he fell in with other runaway urchins and took to glue sniffing, an addiction most street kids suffer.

What happened to Salim?

We lost him once more to the streets. 

Why?

Because no conventional system was strong enough to convince him to live off the streets. Or to put it differently, the streets were the best option for Salim, I guess.

What were the other choices?

The Juvenile home, which is a repository of sad stories and a soul less lives. Temporary shelters which by nature, are temporary and offer no roots.

Random acts of kindness that we indulge in like we offer them silvers of hope and then we are not sure what to do with these kids. Dealing with Salim was a kind of defeating experience for me. Not because Salim went back but because after a point, I had absolutely no idea what to do with him. There were no reference points, no options, attractive enough to convince him to stay. No immediate plans.

Nothing.

My reaction to this is these kids need help but when I think again, its not the kids, in fact, we need help. We need maps and guidelines that will help us to help so many kids like Salim.
I wonder!

Location: Jama Masjid, New Delhi

Date: October, 2013