India's National Shame

A recent article in New York Times by Somini Sengupta highlights the pitiable state of India’s worst problem, malnutrition. Prime Minister Manmohan Singh has labeled this as “India’s national shame”. How very true. In a country where ‘racial inequality’, ‘justice for the backward class’ has been the main focus of the sickening and mind cringing political wars, malnutrition has seemed to slip seamlessly under the radar. The article can be read here - http://www.nytimes.com/2009/03/13/world/asia/13malnutrition.html?_r=1&scp=1&sq=india%20malnutrition&st=cse or http://www.iht.com/articles/2009/03/13/asia/13malnutrition.php.
A thorough read of the article brings to light important facts. The percentage of children under 5 who are suffering from malnutrition is a staggering 42.5 %. Amartya Sen hits the bulls eye when he says hunger is not a political priority in a country where every single issue could cause a political turmoil. Simple solution such as iodizing the salt, immunizing children against preventable diseases will help this fight, but the corrupt bureaucracies of India prevent an overhaul of this situation. Infact, India has the world’s largest child feeding program, the Integrated Child Development Services (ICDS). Yet, with little surprise the good intentions of implementing the program has not borne any fruits. It is not an easy task, yet when India seems to be at the fore front of prosperity, economic stability one has to feel is a country truly prosperous and wealthy if half of its future does not have enough food to eat?
I am saddened of having to read about the biggest threat facing my country in an article that is placed under the World/Asia category of an International newspaper. I am even more ashamed that the ‘leading’ news networks of India opt to cover Jane Goody’s heroic last days, or the very important issue of Sony channel bragging IPL coverage rights when India’s economy is growing to a future where it’s children may have stunted development. Sadly ironic, but it is true. We have had protests that ‘Slumdog Millionaire’ projects “India as Third World dirty underbelly developing nation”, and yet we fail to recogonize that until our children can afford to have access to nutritious food, it can never be truly considered as a developing nation.
The intention of this blog is to find out how to increase awareness of this problem. I would like to hear your ideas, opinions on what can be done to make this food program more efficient.Definitely a better marketing campaign,responsible governing of the program and responsibility taken by the people will help. While donations are always an idea, I do not think this program lacks the monetary stability. Should only politicians be held responsible for the program’s lack of success? Dont the people require our media outlets be held more accountable in the news they cover? How is it that Somini’s article is not printed in other leading Indian media outlets?
In a land that is run amok by clever advertisements highlighting the advantages of drinking one milk powder to the other, something can and should be definitely done to make sure Indian future does end up being “Taller,stronger and sharper”.
Note: I would like to thank Somini Sengupta for bringing to light an issue that has now impacted me and hopefully it would have impacted you in a similar way.

A rant

Again my name gets spoilt. I don’t do anything, and I get thrown around. I can it blame on other people, they misuse me. They always do. I arrive at the right place at the right time, but people just cannot seem to like me. When I want to stay, and put my hand up saying ‘pick me!‘ , I am ignored. Then they want more of me, when in fact I don’t stay too long. It’s not my fault. I know when I am not needed, I get the hint, because without people knowing, I can sense when I am going to get abused. I leave, so that I can maintain some dignity. But no, long after I am gone my name still lingers among people’s huddled whispers.

I have seen it all. I have been the solitary witness to so many troubles. I have seen a country divided, religions formed, houses broken, relationships torn. I have seen the mistletoe kisses, late night college parties where guys and girls get sloshed but still want to wake up in a familiar place, I am at the core of every event. Infact, I am the reason many events take place. No I am not fate, he is my uncle and he said , “you poor son of a bitch. You are there at the start of everything, but then why cant you hold on?”

I am supposed to be celebrated. When the husband finds out his wife is pregnant, he celebrates me. When the wife waits for the husband long after the food’s gone cold because he is held up at office, she relies on me. A student sits in class, bored or attentive, taking down the notes her teacher tells.I am there in every single page, equation. Secrets confined in the dark rooms of the church, because the holy men are supposed to be living me. I am there when a family goes grocery shopping. I am the core of any army, team. But no, no one gives a damn about me. My cousin, always gets the name, the fame, songs are written on her, but me, they treat me like a poor relative, who has always overstayed his visit.

Ah, it takes just one side to abuse me, even ignite me and then the cookie crumbles. My patience is stretched to the limit when a lover secretly texts a so called friend,... When a secret was accidentally leaked, the business deal between trusted alliances went sour, when money was not returned. When a dad advises his child not to do drugs, I sneak conveniently between their line of sight. People vote because of me. I tell you the world will be dust without me. It will stop revolving. Fables will not be handed down. Grandmother stories would die for ever. Nature's purpose with man would be dissolved. Future would despise the past. The world needs me. I don’t need the world. I have been abused enough. I will be with those who value me. I know who I am. I belong to the select few in this world. I am the purest. I am Trust.