Heavy rain was pouring down in the dark streets of Chennai – one of India’s biggest cities. As I was hasting towards the train station to get under a roof and check my e-mail, I passed a very busy street with lots of noisy traffic, and sideways crowded with people who sit all day long trying to sell something. Then there, in the middle of this crowd, noise, dirt and darkness, a beggar was lying down flat on his belly with the masses of water around him growing. He had no legs, was almost naked and in front of him he was holding an almost empty cup, hoping for a few coins to survive the next day. I just passed him without stopping, without giving him anything. In the big cities of India beggars is part of the picture. But the picture of this beggar is now still after a few weeks stuck in my mind, maybe because of the complete lack of dignity and hope for a better future for this man, maybe because I for a long time felt bad about not even giving him a small coin.
It was early morning in the streets of Kolkata, I was waiting for our bus for Bangladesh. That’s when I met Mangla. She was sitting inside her “house” made from a plastic cover, with her children. I looked at them from a distance, not knowing whether I could allow myself to go over to them, but in the same moment, Mangla looked at me, smiled and called for me to come in. In the next 30 minutes, I learned a little about the life of this family. Mangla has 7 children, aged 3 to 21. Her husband has been very abusive and violent to her for years. Finally he kicked her and all of the children out of the house and found a new wife, which is why Mangla and her children are now living on the pavement, with their only belongings being some blankets and some cooking utensils. The older children (from 12 years and up) work when they can, none of them go to school. They do different random jobs they can get in the streets – dirty jobs, says Mangla. She herself cannot work, having the small children to take care of. On a good day, the children earn 50 to 100 rupees (1-2 euros), which has to be enough to feed the 8 mouths in the family. The youngest girl doesn’t understand their situation, so she is quite demanding. The other children I got the feeling have understood and accepted that this is now their life, and there is no space for demanding anything. The whole family was so open and welcoming to me. Mina, the 12 year old girl rushed out with her younger sister by the hand, to buy us all a cup of chai to share. I gave my last 200 rupees to the family and wish from all of my heart, that there is a better future waiting for them.
