Saying Thank You

By Lotte Webb

A young girl peeps around the fence post. “Didi”, she calls. I look up from my marking as I sit on the front step of the Deep Griha building at Tadiwala Road. I am waiting for the blue Deep Griha rickshaw to take me to Ramtekadi for an English class. I see Kajal smiling at me from behind her hiding place, and I smile and wave. She waves back. I watch her as she turns to walk towards wherever home is for her. She cannot be older than five, but she is taking herself home, bag in hand. As she walks a parked rickshaw momentarily obscures her, and then I watch her turn to see whether I am still looking. I am, and I wave again. She smiles and waves. This becomes our game. I watch her as she becomes smaller and smaller, periodically stopping, looking, waving at me, until she disappears into the crowds of Tadiwala Road.

The four months I have spent with Deep Griha are full of memorable encounters such as this. Often it is the small details that remain in my mind and heart. Meister Eckhart, the German mystic, once wrote that if the only prayer you said in your whole life was, “thank you”, that would suffice. As I reflect on all I have experienced, and that ways in which my life has been enriched by the Deep Griha Society, I wanted to share some of the most moving and rewarding moments of my time in this remarkable place, as an expression of gratitude for all I have experienced here.

Indian people are famous for their warmth, hospitality and generosity, and that will be one of my abiding memories. I am always greeted with a smile and ‘Namaste.’ I have been invited to so many meals and celebrations, and fed delicious biryani, salad and puri, ladoo and gulab jamoon until I was physically unable to eat more! Early on in my time in India, I was taken out by some of the field workers into the slums and I was amazed by people’s generosity. Even in the smallest room, full of a large family and newborn baby, I was given a mug of chai and (despite my protests) a chair was produced for me to sit on, while everyone else sat on the floor. The house was spotless in contrast to the grime of the pathway outside, and I was touched to see an elderly woman tenderly hand-feeding a goat kid with the outer leaves of a cauliflower. There is surprising warmth in even the harshest conditions, and I will not forget this courage and generosity of spirit.

In the Deep Griha building, various things will remain in my memory. One is walking into the hall to teach my younger School Dropout class, to be greeted by cheers and joyful shouting! And to see them laugh and giggle at Head, Shoulders, Knees and Toes getting faster and faster, or to see them cheering for Hokey Cokey. Then, later during the lessons, a quiet whisper from one or other of the students wanting me to stop and admire their artistic efforts. Meanwhile, while I am planning lessons I regularly feel I am offering a child-minding service, as various small people appear and ask to do drawing or watch me as I plan my lessons. In particular I will remember the friendship of the some of HIV positive young people who come and talk to me as I work.

I have already written here about the picnic organised for my School Dropout classes at City of Child. It was so rewarding to see the joy of the children throughout that day, and to see them still smiling about it weeks later. I will also remember the Christmas Party I recently organised for that class. When I arrived, Anwar announced that he had a gift for me. He proudly produced a beautiful model house he had made, and wished me a Happy Christmas. I was so touched. I set up some Hindi dance music for the students to dance to, and got to work putting plates of food out ready for them. Soon their teacher appeared, and gave me a gift from them all. Again, I was amazed by their kindness. I was presented with two hairclips, one of which was gold-coloured, inset with decorative glasswork, and a necklace and earrings. Soon I was being dressed in this new attire by the teacher, under the supervision of all the students! Later the teacher, the students and I all enjoyed dancing and laughing together, and spinning each other around in time to the music.

My adult classes have been no less rewarding. I am greeted always by smiles and a warm welcome. Throughout the lessons the staff work hard and are keen to please, showing me their notebooks with shy pride. At the end of each lesson, I always introduce some topic of conversation. Through listening to my students, I have learnt how hard people work, and the challenges they face in their daily lives and with their families. Illness, suffering and death seem to be a constant reality. I have been touched to see women moved to tears when sharing what Deep Griha means for them, or to hear stories of tremendous courage and resilience in the face of adversity. These students are invariably dressed in a rich assortment of brightly coloured saris, and somehow those bright colours shine through from the inside too.

When I took over the English classes at Bibvewadi in November, it was my first visit to that particular slum area, and to witness Deep Griha’s work there. I instantly liked the atmosphere and the people I met. Unlike the other slum areas, there is no road running through at Bibvewadi. You walk through some railings and on foot down narrow alleys, passing children, men and women sitting in the pathway, playing, peeling vegetables, working, talking, while dogs, goats, cats, chickens and other animals wander along the pathways also. The buildings are mainly made of corrugated iron. People are sociable, sitting on their doorsteps shouting greetings to me, while children run to shake my hand as I walk past. There are many flies. One day I saw a woman shaking some dried meat on a sheet, while thick clouds of flies covered the meat. Even inside the two corrugated iron shacks that are Deep Griha’s buildings at Bibvewadi, the flies are persistent. They simply walk and sit on you, too many to fight, they are left alone. It is dark inside the buildings, despite the electric light bulb that gives some light, as there are no windows. There is also no water and no toilet. Yet the people are always smiling, and there is a strong sense of community. People are not isolated in the slums as they are in Western countries, estranged from others by their own four walls and wealth. This is not to glorify the suffering of these people, but to observe that many of us have much to learn from their courage, hospitality, joy and bonds of community.

I have also been teaching English to a group of trainee nurses, as part of the women’s empowerment work. This month they have begun their practical placement in a local hospital. They have asked me to go and visit them there, and I will try to fit this in before leaving Pune. However, my daily lessons with the nurses came to an end earlier this month. To celebrate the ending of all we had shared together, I organised a party for them. I invited them to the Cultural Centre, where the volunteers live, during the day when everyone else was at work. I borrowed a DVD player, hired a DVD and showed them a movie in English that I thought they would enjoy. We watched Bend It Like Beckham, a movie about a young Sikh girl in London who wants to be a football player. They seemed to understand it, and laughed at all the funny parts, which I was glad about. I also bought some party food, and ordered a cake for them. It turned out to be someone’s birthday, so we put candles on the cake and sang Happy Birthday to her. Once the movie had ended, the girls put on Hindi music on the television, and were dancing together. At the end they sang some songs to me, and I sang to them. As I waved them off, and they got into the minibus to be driven back to Deep Griha, they said things like, “I will miss you very much, madam”. Perhaps they do not know how much I will also miss them.

Another unforgettable day of the past month was World AIDS Day. For the first time this year, Deep Griha organised a rally on the morning of 1st December (World AIDS Day). We marched for several hours with placards around the Tadiwala Road slum area, raising awareness and inviting people to an event later that evening. We spent the afternoon setting up for the ‘Celebration of Life’, which was to follow. In an open area in the heart of the slum, with a concrete stage, we got to work. A thousand chairs had been hired, but there was still plenty of space left for thousands to stand. Behind the stage, against a backdrop of white, we pinned huge letters saying ‘DISHA Celebration of Life 2005’, with two plain red saris making the symbol of the red ribbon at each side. The evening began with an introduction and song by DISHA staff. A wonderful programme of events, including HIV positive speakers; dances by people with AIDS; a play; singing and an address given by a DISHA worker, followed this. The guest of honour awarded prizes for a recent DISHA cricket tournament and DISHA street play competition. The most moving performance for me was a professional dance performed as a means of sex education. With dancers representing white blood cells, viruses and HIV, the dance portrayed the death of a young man, after being infected with HIV, showing how the white blood cells were unable to defend him after he became HIV positive. The message was both clear and moving. I was also moved by the courage of the HIV positive speakers, who risked being marginalized in their communities to share something of their stories, and who were themselves moved to tears. The volunteers were asked to present something for the evening, and we put together a candle dance to the song, ‘True Colours’, which was photographed and printed in a Maharashtra state newspaper under the title, ‘Lighting the Fight Against AIDS’. This was the first time I had sung and danced in front of thousands of people, and it was a memorable occasion in every way.

As I reflect on the months gone by, I feel a sense of gratitude about all that has been. I came here wanting to offer what I could of my skills and experience, and knowing I had much to learn from the people I would meet. Most of them may never know how profoundly they have influenced my life, but I have written this as a tribute to all the people I been privileged to come to know in Deep Griha and in Pune. There have been challenges, and life has been demanding; yet a whole community of people have entered my heart and will remain there. I am so thankful for all that they, and India, have given to me.

Thank You and Om Shanti.

Never a dull moment

One of the joys of volunteering at DGS is the variety. You’re never quite sure what lies around the corner. On Wednesday it was the Christmas Party at the Family Welfare Centre, and what fun it was.

The place was already looking suitably festive, thanks to Munda’s one-woman mission to decorate the building with tinsel, crepe paper streamers, a proper Christmas tree and even a small manger. But when it came to her balwadi (pre-school) class, she really surpassed herself. The children were decked out in a variety of improvised costumes – a tea towel here, a cleverly arranged sari there – and had been transformed into an assortment of angels, wise men and shepherds, not forgetting Mary and Joseph.

After some last-minute cosmetic flourishes – cardboard wings, marker-pen moustaches and the like – the kids were off in a procession around the building, singing songs and bringing cheer to everyone they met. Sudesh came along too, sporting a cotton wool beard in his guise as Santa Claus.

Once the procession finished, it was time for to sit down for a few more songs before tucking into some festive treats. Children in the balwadis always receive a daily meal of dhal and rice as part of the programme, but since it was a special occasion they also enjoyed cakes, bananas and chocolate.

They say a picture is worth a thousand words, so I’ll let the photos speak for themselves. Merry Christmas everyone.

The Chaos Within - The Year of the Dance

An impromptu ‘dance session’ outside the Deep Griha centre at Tadiwala Road by the DISHA team and members of the community that followed the rally on World AIDS Day.

This will be my last post for 2005.

Deep Griha closes today for the holidays and next week I hope to be immersed in forgetfulness, and float away inside. It is not respite. It is rejuvenation. There is no respite and nor should we, who have chosen to be here, ask for any.

The challenge before us in 2006 is a vision: Transform Tadiwala Road into a model community in the fight against HIV/AIDS. 2006 is DISHA’s ‘Share the Vision’ year. We have to approach a community that has just begun to identify the Red Ribbon. And it is what lies beneath the red ribbon that needs to be brought into focus.

Ignorance festers there. Stigma oozes. And we have to uncover the wound.

An enraged sister-in-law on Monday morning pitched into a young woman who had just lost her husband. Yes, Monday saw another client, Kashinath succumb to TB. He died at home, on Sunday night, as a terrified wife looked on. His children slept through his passing and woke to no father.

“You gave my brother HIV! You killed him!”

She was distraught. She was upset. Blaming her brother’s wife helped her cope with her grief. All these maybe true. But what is also true is that the community heard her rant and rave, and the twin headed monster of Ignorance and Stigma fell greedily upon her words.

What is also true is that a mother Lalita and her two children, Deepali (7) and Avinash (4) have to now contend with the very real possibility of discrimination that is meted out to a family that is tagged as HIV+ in this community.

This is our battleground.

2006 will not be the ‘Vision Realised’ year. We know this.

When will that be? We don’t know.

Susan Raj, our consultant, suggests that to see this vision realised may take a generation.

A generation!?!

Fuck. It is so easy to be overcome by the enormity of the task ahead of us. Do we have the strength to fight for so long? Again, we do not know. But what we do know is that we must begin. We cannot afford to delay any longer and allow the twin headed beast of Ignorance ad Stigma to grow more powerful than it already is.

The Dancing Stars are on the frontline. We stand with them now, and will stand with them tomorrow.

The choice is ours.

The choice also is yours. Too long have those who can and are able been silent. Too long have those with a conscience bludgeoned it into submission with comfort of circumstance. You must join us. You must stand with us. You must dance with us. Yes, dance. If you’ve read this blog in the past, you’d know how important dance is to the DISHA team. In dancing we embrace life. We move to that primeval rhythm that is within us all.

2006 is the year we share the vision. May it also be the year of the dance!

A Response

The following post was a response from one of our readers to Hans' latest blogpost.

Hi Hans

I am really impressed by the passion you and your team posses, the empathy and passion will help you find answers.

I could not attend your invitation for the Celebration of Life as I was traveling and was not in India at that time. I am glad that it turned out to be such a beautiful event.

The day you feel it would end or decide to end is the day you have died. I read this about Boris Becker once, at 17 he had won Wimbledon and had achieved his ultimate goal in life. That night he went under heavy depression and wanted to end his life. He resurrected out of this depression and went on to become a legend.

What makes people live? I feel it's the sheer encouragement which the environment around him gives him. She or he lives to see another day, another moment where she or he is accepted among her or his people and beloved ones.

None of us are immortal and death is evident, whether through HIV, cancer or sheer old age, but does that mean we stop living on the last days? NO. The answer is "YES", yes I will live, Y – Yearning to live and move towards your chosen Goal and Desire, E- Endeavor to move towards that goal and S- Sweet taste of Success which leads you to the spirit of triumph. The Triumph of Life.

Prakash lost that spirit somewhere and Jyoti carries that flame. The failure with Prakash seeing the JYOTI at the other end has brought out further 'chaos within' and would be the driving force for you and your team to look at alternative methods and processes to ensure that the others see the value of life.

I totally agree with you that WEAR A CONDOM OR YOU WILL DIE campaign is not the solution to AIDS and will in no way eradicate this problem. Probably educating people is the solution to ensuring people see a life after HIV, the critical factor here the acceptance of the community, like you wrote in the case of Jyoti, her near and dear ones are rejecting her today because she openly proclaims that she has HIV, so where is the issue? Is it with Jyoti or the people around her? Are the people who matter to you to the most moving away from you, does that make you stop living?

Educating the people around an HIV affected person would be also one of the key factors which will enable people to see a life with HIV.

May GOD bless you and your team in all your endeavors and All The Best.

-Anonymous

Manavya

Last Saturday I had the pleasure of joining my university coursemates for a field visit to ‘Manavya’, an NGO based about 12km from Pune in Bhugaon village. Manavya – ‘Humanity’ – is a residential home which shelters orphaned children and destitute women living with HIV/AIDS.

At present, Manavya houses 55 children (aged 2 to 14) along with seven women who act as ‘house mothers’. The majority are receiving anti retroviral treatment (ART) although it’s a struggle to meet costs, since the state does not fund this medication and all facilities are provided free of charge.

Project superintendent Joseph Shinde explained to us that Manavya faced several false starts before it was finally established at Bhugaon in 1997. A number of other potential locations in and around Pune had been scouted, but all fell through because of local community objections; the stigma attached to HIV/AIDS affects institutions as well as individuals. Still, looking at the site it’s clear that the countryside location works well. The fresh air certainly comes as a welcome change from the pollution in Pune city.

Manavya takes a holistic approach to the development of the children. Along with meeting the basic needs of food, shelter and medical care, the home also has a very small school, staffed by qualified teachers. The original plan was to send the children to local village schools once they reached Standard VII, but sadly this proved problematic. Stigma reared its head again: parents of the non-Manavya children, fearful and ill-informed about HIV/AIDS, started withdrawing their children from the schools. There’s clearly a long way to go to tackle ignorance about the pandemic, although Manavya is working to integrate with the community and the onsite hospital (currently under construction) will provide general facilities to the local population.

In all truth, the formal part of our field visit finished in little over 15 minutes and we got to spend a couple of fun hours playing with the children. A brighter bunch you could not hope to meet and they’re full of energy. Put simply, they just crave some attention and personal contact. Many of the children have already experienced rejection – by their families, once their parents died or left – and Manavya works to help them overcome this.

Many of us plan to visit again. I’m really looking forward to it.

manavya@gmail.com

The Chaos Within - The bell tolls again

Lata (Counsellor), Jyoti & Hans

Prakash Gaikwad died on Monday night.

That's two clients in the space of eight days.

Donne's bell has tolled again. It is a hollow sound. It mirrors the hollowness we feel within whenever we lose a client.

We never managed to get Prakash to fully engage with what DISHA was trying to do for him. Upon learning he was HIV+ he went into severe depression and by the time DISHA found him, he looked defeated... and was. I met with Prakash frequently to begin with, both at the centre and at his home. All he did was stare vacantly into the distance. Santosh the field worker in Prakash's area visited him every day, and often they would sit in silence together, but Santosh felt that at least Prakash was aware that DISHA was determined to be there for him.

When Prakash started to get sick we made sure he had the best possible care. We sent him to Sahara too, but Errol, like DISHA failed to connect with Prakash. He didn't let any of us in. Susan, our HIV/AIDS consultant on hearing about Prakash's case told us that Prakash's depression seems to be coupled with the shock of learning that he was HIV+. In August, within two weeks of being at Sahara, before he had fully recovered, he insisted upon returning home. This has been the most assertive he has been in the ten months we had known him. He refused to attend our nutrition programme and while his mother faithfully shuttled up and down with food for him, she complained that he hardly touched it.

On Friday we admitted him to Sassoon General. On Monday he was in and out of consciousness, and in the early hours of Tuesday morning Prakash let go of life.

Did we fail?

We failed to connect, we failed to find a way through, we failed to make him understand about life after HIV, life with HIV...

Life after HIV? Life with HIV? To many this is not possible. HIV/AIDS is death incarnate. To speak of life is to pretend, it is a denial of the inevitable. We, DISHA, disagree. I work alongside people who say NO to this perception of inevitability and YES to life! We work with people in the community who refuse to give in, and they burn so bright that those who don't understand them get burnt.

Jyoti.

Why do I always return to Jyoti? No particular answer. Her name is derived from 'flame' and her light is close to going out. She is in the 4th stage of HIV, she has a CD4 count well below 200, and so clinically she has full blown AIDS. I spent the morning with her today, and I didn't want to write my blog, until I had done this, because I knew that what I have to say about her can't take another week.

Jyoti's aunt and uncle who used to support her with gifts of money and dry rations, have refused to help her anymore because she stood up in front of the community and declared that she is HIV+. Today I heard that they had asked her not to attend the 'Celebration of Life' event, and defiantly Jyoti had refused. Her other uncle, who also helps her when he can - this is not a community of plenty - began to argue with his sister and told her that they cannot abandon their niece. Jyoti silenced them both.

"I will work. I will find a job. I will ask Hans sir to help me."

Her strength and defiance is humbling. Her trust in DISHA underlines the responsibility that we have undertaken. Her situation demonstrates the need for compassion and understanding in a community that has a long journey ahead of it.

Perceptions of HIV/AIDS must change. I suggest that Prakash was a victim of perception and Jyoti struggles with it everyday, as do all our clients in Tadiwala Road. The way forward is hard. It is a complex network of roads that we must journey on. HIV/AIDS association with death is thought to be a deterrent in India. Wear a condom or you will get HIV/AIDS, if you get HIV/AIDS you will die. This deterrent, which we have used too, needs reworking. This was made very clear to me during the Celebration of Life event when Mukesh and his team performed the dance that ended with death. It jarred with the image fresh in our mind of Manisha, Jyoti and Anita standing before us and asking us for compassion and support. The death that is associated with HIV/AIDS when people like us in the field talk about prevention and control is not necessarily the antithesis of life when we speak of care for people living with HIV/AIDS.

Or is it? If it is - and my insides seem to twist and contort to confirm that it is! - then how do we move forward?

Any answers?

Deep Griha Blog

I always planned on writing a blog entry when i returned from Deep Griha in August, but its not until now when i am beaten by illnesss that i actually have the time. This summer was my second visit to Deep Griha and turned out to be one of the most challenging and heart warming trips i have ever been on. My job while i was over there with Tim another volunteer was to set up an english programme for the staff, although i could have killed a few people in the process to actually see it work and still being continued now is a huge achievement! Recently i have just managed to secure another teacher to come out in February which means the project will run for another year which i am so pleased about! I have never seen so many people eager to learn and would hate to see the project fall through!

While i was there however i also spent alot of time with the DISHA staff, i have so much resepct for these people and wanted to do whatever i could to help them. I agreed along with my family to sponsor the DISHA staff who are HIV+. To be completely honest i didn't know if we were going to be able to reach our target each year and i was extremely worried about letting everyone down! These women mean the world to me and i couldn't let them down. Luckily though we have had the most amazing support, local newspapers have been great following the story of when i was away and have now agreed to do monthly reports to keep the interest in the charity. The community in which i live has also rallied round supporting everything we do! So hopefully each year we will be able to reach ou target!!

Deep Griha is like a second family to me, this summer was such a fantastic experiance, there were times which were tough but the good definately out weighed the bad. People always ask me why i continue to return to Deep Griha and i have always failed to answer the question. Once you become involved you can never let go, the people become part of you and rice and dal becomes your life! I find the transition from leaving Deep Griha to coming home harder than leaving home to go out there, not because im cold hearted but because Deep Griha is part of my life now and the people out there are like family! I can't wait to get back out to work for Deep Griha again and see everyone but first i have to contend with lifes little mishaps but i will be back soon to see the development of the english programme and how much DISHA has grown something im looking forward to greatly.

sharon stewart

Just one step

When I arrived at Deep Griha back in January, one of the first things I took a look at was the recently approved DISHA funding application. Hans invited me to read the proposal, and I quickly learned about all these interesting plans for Gat Pramukhs (peer leaders), Field Supervisors, nutrition programmes and of course the clients themselves.

A few days later – in my part-time role as DGS photographer – I went out with Avinash into the community as he went on a recruitment drive for potential team members. What do I mean by going ‘into the community’? I suppose by that I mean getting out of the Family Welfare Centre office and walking around the Tadiwala Road area. I used to feel I kept myself a little isolated from the community; yet now that I’m living a minute away from the FWC I get recognised constantly and feel a lot more a part of things, especially following the recent DIHSA events.

I looked on as Avinash gave a series of small talks about DISHA and invited people to sign up for the Gat Pramukh interviews. Meanwhile, suppliers were being found for the nutrition programme. Pharmacists were arranged to provide the supplements required. In fact, I was amazed at how quickly things came together. Like many people I had a fixed (mis)conception of ‘Indian time’, meaning everything taking ages. But I was wrong. Within a matter of three or four weeks, the Gat Pramukhs had been found, interviewed, and undergone initial training. The decision had been made to provide low-cost SAM therapy to clients. By the time I left Pune in March, there were already more than 15 clients and the programme was properly up and running: the Dancing Stars were in motion.

When I returned in mid July, DISHA was firmly established as a project. Of all the teams I’ve observed – in a variety of situations – the DISHA staff really are the closest unit I’ve had the pleasure to be involved with. Which leads me to World AIDS Day. The morning rally was a great way to kick things off. As we all snaked around the route – picking people up along the way conga-style – you could see how well know the team are known in and around the area. Their strength is that they are largely drawn from within the very community where they work. The rally was a great success, although we had a lucky escape when we missed crashing into a funeral procession by mere seconds…

Then in the evening, it was time for the Celebration of Life. There were so many highlights. Seeing the DISHA women up on stage in their beautiful matching saris. Watching Anita, Manisha and Jyoti stand up and announce their HIV+ status in front more than 2,000 people from their community - our community. Watching the kids from the Street Play Competition perform unfazed by large crowds, failing microphones and technical glitches. They understand what HIV/AIDS is about. They – hopefully – will continue to educate their peers and reduce stigma about the pandemic. Watching Mukesh and his crew putting on a great themed dance. It’s difficult to explain in words but the dance illustrated wonderfully the concept of HIV, CD4 counts and opportunistic infections. I hope we can post up a video clip.
The Celebration of Life had a great impact on so many different people. In the days following, I couldn’t buy a newspaper, get a haircut or grab some food without someone mentioning the show and pointing at the red AIDS ribbon on my bag.

From a 10-page proposal back in January, DISHA has made stunning progress, but the real work starts here. The Celebration of Life was just the start. As the Chinese say, a journey of a thousand miles begins with just one step. Let’s make it a dance.

The Chaos Within - A Week Ago

Missed my blog entry last week… Thursday, December 1st, World AIDS Day.

In a word: Fantastic!

If you weren’t there you should have been. We were drenched in colour. The rhythm of humanity overcame us. We had no choice. It was torrential, heavy, soaking, but it made us dance with a lightness that I haven’t felt in so long. All that we ascribe to divinity was there moving about us and through us, pulsating and real. There was nothing transcendent or beyond us. The otherness we felt were the hands that touched, the smiles that touched deeper, and the shouts and screams of a community that reverberated in that innermost place!

Dostoevsky, Kahlil Gibran, and undoubtedly others wise and sage-like have spoken of thoughts betrayed by words. (Another great unavoidable paradox!) Yes! I can’t begin to fucking tell you what we felt this very night a week ago. After the planning the agonising the decisions the hope… fuck! I just wish you were there. Errol, he danced! He had Tadiwala road dancing! Fuck the kidney op, I ran onto stage and danced with him and the Sahara team. My team looked on with concern as they saw me take the stage, but soon they knew and the smiles returned. Fuck, if my doctor saw me he would have danced! Like I said we were overcome. We were taken by that which we will never understand and in trying to explain only dilute and even bastardise.

Jyoti and Manisha and Anita took the stage and declared before a crowd of over 2000 people that they were HIV+. Their courage, their determination to do this drenched us again, with silence with awe with wonder. Life overflowed. Donne’s sonnet on death began a playback… but fuck, death, the living death that HIV/AIDS is likened to in this part of the world was overcome not by a promise of heaven, moulting wings and harps of discord, it was overcome by the will to live by these three dancing stars that refused to stop dancing. My head was bowed in reverence.

Our international volunteers moving with lighted candles to Cindy Lauper’s ‘True Colours’ followed this, and while cheesiness could have daubed itself gooey and smelly all over us, it worked. It did. The community didn’t understand all the lyrics, but the music they heard came together in their minds with the words they had just heard by three women, their own, who had stood up and asked to be loved, to not be rejected.

At the end of the night after I hugged Avinash and kissed all the women on the team much to their red faced embarrassment, we sat in the white light of the street lamps as the lights and sound equipment and chairs were packed away. The open-air stage returned to its innocuous beforeness. The community returned to chapattis and vicarious living through cable TV. But we knew that we had a new beginning. DISHA had taken another step forward against the pandemic, against ignorance and its spawn - stigma.

On the Sunday that followed Randhir died at Naidu hospital. We lost our fifth client. This is how real life is. This is how real HIV/AIDS is in our community. We will not go quietly. The dancing stars will burn brilliantly in the night as they fall from the sky.

Words… next week we will have a slide show for you on our website of the march we had in the morning of World AIDS day and of the Celebration of life. You will see the colour. You will hear the music. And if you want to feel the rhythm inside you, come visit us, and touch and smell what Deep Griha is trying to do. Join us. Walk with us. Fight with us. Dance with us.

deepgriha@gmail.com
Tel: +91 20 26125773

DISHA Cricket Challenge Trophy - THE FINAL

What follows is the text of an article I wrote for the Pune edition of a national daily newspaper, where I've recently been working as an intern. In the end they didn't run the story - space considerations rather than questions of style, I'm claiming - but as a great believer in recycling I thought I'd post it up here.

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At first glance, cricket and HIV/AIDS may seem an unlikely match. But DISHA, a Pune-based NGO, has found that cricket is the ideal way to engage local youth and spread awareness about the pandemic.

DISHA (Deep Griha’s Integrated Service for HIV/AIDS) works with people living with HIV/AIDS and the wider Tadiwala Road slum community to run prevention, treatment and control programmes.

When running awareness sessions, DISHA staff noticed that turnout amongst local youth was poor. But the number of street cricket matches taking place nearby suggested an idea. Deep Griha associate director Kiran Patole explains: “The game of cricket is a very good connector for the youth of Tadiwala Road to come together and learn about HIV/AIDS in an informal way.”

The result? The Inaugural DISHA Cricket Challenge Trophy. Beginning in late September, a series of group and knockout matches has determined the two finalists, New Azad and Ulhas Nagar. All participating teams were drawn from the local community, through mandal youth organisations. More than 150 players – aged 14 and up – have taken part in the competition, and many more youngsters have come along to watch the matches, learning about HIV/AIDS through brief talks between the innings.

Arriving at Tadiwala Road’s Railway Ground on the morning of the final, there’s already a sense of anticipation in the air. Although there might not be a blade of grass anywhere on the dusty playing surface, the pitch is chalked out, the stumps are in place and the stage set for a fine day of cricket.

The final is 20-overs-per-side. The teams line-up, all sporting the distinctive red AIDS ribbon. New Azad win the toss and decide to bat. They score consistently and profit from some coordination problems in the outfield, a series of dropped catches and plenty of byes. However, Ulhas Nagar keep picking up wickets and dismiss the batting side for 99 runs in 19 overs. Still, the 30 runs the conceded in extras could be crucial.

After a break for lunch, Ulhas Nagar come in to bat. A New Azad fielder takes a fabulous diving catch in the opening over and that sets the tone for the innings. Wickets fall regularly and the batsmen are under pressure. With the score on 76-9, a yorker from Azad paceman Aakash uproots middle stump and the match is over. A pitch invasion from the jubilant Azad fans is accompanied by the noise of crackers.

When order is restored, Patole conducts the trophy presentation to loud cheers all round. New Azad’s Kalyan Tugave named ‘Player of the Tournament’ after impressing consistently with the bat and in the field.

Patole is pleased with how things have gone. “The tournament has had a great impact,” he says. DISHA field supervisor Avinash Chakranaryan agrees. “Everyone has enjoyed the format. It has been a lot of fun and a new challenge for us to arrange the matches. The players have also got new information about HIV/AIDS.”

As the winning team pile on to a tempo rickshaw for an impromptu victory parade around the area, it’s clear that the event has been a success.