Value for Time

Five years ago, my institution wanted the students to kickstart their trimester by preparing a report on any social establishment. I did its bidding on a showery Sunday afternoon. It was just past noon when I rechecked the haversack for camera, pen and paper while climbing down the stairs. My brother was seated in the driver's seat and had already set the engines rolling. I occupied the adjacent seat, pushed the haversack onto the backseat and wasted no time in switching on the FM. 

Within few seconds both of us were off, driving through a sparse blanket of droplets showered by the cloudy sky. Spending around 4 minutes on every kilometer and toggling thoughts on whether space has become a commodity or we have failed to reach out the unexplored, we reached a lesser known orphanage on the outskirts of the city.

We were welcomed by Kotresh, the caretaker with a bright smile. He was a young cheerful lad in his late twenties having prior association with Azim Premji Foundation. We went around the facility with him getting acquainted with the inmates and their residence. There was visible enthusiasm and excitement amongst all manifested in twinkling eyes and incessant smiles.

There were in all 2 hutments accommodating 20 children separated by 5 meters of land. The first was occupied by kids below 10 and the 2 staffers including a grand old cook alias aunty who full time disciplined the activities of the inmates after having lost both her kids. She told us that shortage of funds had recently forced the children to make the floor their bed but bunker beds were planned as inflow possibly substantiates in the future. 

The second hutment was occupied by 12 children above 10 years. Interestingly, all 6 children were chosen from 3 distinct age groups e.g. 2 each from 7, 8, 9 standard so that seniors could help juniors in studies, routine work while juniors could keep tab on mischief of seniors by informing care takers.

It was 3pm, time for aunt's special lunch. Munching and interrogating Kotresh we learnt that his interest in social work was in accordance with others in family who were also associated with a NGO. In this centre they had primarily accommodated kids whose parents were undergoing trials or executing sentences, some as long as 20 years. We came across many children who were put up from past 9 years. Aunty often accompanied them to prison where they could meet their parents.

Post lunch, we broke the ice with the gathering by giving our introduction interspersed with anecdotes. This set the ball rolling and children were extremely proactive when asked to introduce themselves and at times spoke out of turn indicating high enthusiasm. Each one mentioned their name, native place, school, career goals and sought our opinion on achieving individual goals. 

Though not experts, we tried our best to provide sound advice which was a huge challenge given the diversity in their 

interests. Somu wanted to be a actor, Navin a surgeon and Kalpesh a CBI agent. The room was replete with laughter when my brother asked Somu to reconsider his decision and become a politician instead. 

On completion of career counseling session, we thought of organizing dumb charades, an ideal game for mass entertainment and collective participation. 2 teams were formed, rules were explained and time limit set to 3 minutes per guess. Each correct answer accounted for 10 points, no negative marking. Needless to say game was a super hit and ran way ahead of stipulated deadline.

As time passed, we realized that sun had gone to bed and moonlight was following. It was time for us to bid goodbye. Before returning we had a small photo session with the inmates and children were extremely pleased to see themselves on the camera - pointing, staring and smiling at some known faces.

The farewell was extremely humbling. While getting into the car, I saw all inmates out in the lawn waving their hands in the humid air, I heard multitude of voices saying 'bye bye', 'thank you', 'come again' and the like. We were overwhelmed when Kotresh, aunty and senior children came and repeatedly thanked us for taking time out from our busy schedules especially on a weekend. 

It was a great feeling to carry back. The FM radio, at that moment, sounded too noisy. I switched it off and peacefully reclined into the seat, gazing at the landscape. The car lazily started its return journey back home, spending 4 minutes on every kilometer. It had definitely not been an ideal recipe for those seeking value for money but a definite promise for those seeking value for time.