We have come with open hearts, now let the ancient words impart.

Here, a familiar exchange…

“At this festive season of the year, Mr Scrooge,” said the gentleman, taking up a pen, “it is more than usually desirable that we should make some slight provision for the Poor and destitute, who suffer greatly at the present time. Many thousands are in want of common necessaries; hundreds of thousands are in want of common comforts, sir.”

“Are there no prisons?” asked Scrooge.

“Plenty of prisons,” said the gentleman, laying down the pen again.

“And the Union workhouses?” demanded Scrooge. “Are they still in operation?”

“They are. Still,” returned the gentleman, “ I wish I could say they were not.”

“The Treadmill and the Poor Law are in full vigour, then?” said Scrooge.

“Both very busy, sir.”

“Oh! I was afraid, from what you said at first, that something had occurred to stop them in their useful course,” said Scrooge. “I’m very glad to hear it.”

“Under the impression that they scarcely furnish Christian cheer of mind or body to the multitude,” returned the gentleman, “a few of us are endeavouring to raise a fund to buy the Poor some meat and drink, and means of warmth. We choose this time, because it is a time, of all others, when Want is keenly felt, and Abundance rejoices. What shall I put you down for?”

“Nothing!” Scrooge replied.

“You wish to be anonymous?”

“I wish to be left alone,” said Scrooge. “Since you ask me what I wish, gentlemen, that is my answer. I don’t make merry myself at Christmas and I can’t afford to make idle people merry. I help to support the establishments I have mentioned: they cost enough: and those who are badly off must go there.”

“Many can’t go there; and many would rather die.”

“If they would rather die,” said Scrooge, “they had better do it, and decrease the surplus population.

I saw George C. Scott utter these words so convincingly as I watched the 1984 version of Charles Dickens’ “A Christmas Carol” today on television… words written in a book published in 1843.

If you take a moment to read the preface to the book, Charles Dickens offers a word to his readers…

I have endeavoured in this Ghostly little book, to raise the Ghost of an Idea, which shall not put my readers out of humour with themselves, with each other, with the season, or with me. May it haunt their houses pleasantly, and no one wish to lay it.

Their faithful Friend and Servant, C.D.

Though lighthearted, I love how he uses the phrase “may it haunt their houses”… Maybe the following lines should haunt us even today as we debate issued such as equal rights for all, or health care for those without… maybe we have our modern day “Tiny Tim’s” staring us in the face…

“But you were always a good man of business, Jacob,” faultered Scrooge, who now began to apply this to himself.

“Business!” cried the Ghost, wringing its hands again. “Mankind was my business. The common welfare was my business; charity, mercy, forbearance, and benevolence, were, all, my business. The dealings of my trade were but a drop of water in the comprehensive ocean of my business!”

It held up its chain at arm’s length, as if that were the cause of all its unavailing grief, and flung it heavily upon the ground again.

“At this time of the rolling year,” the spectre said, “I suffer most. Why did I walk through crowds of fellow-beings with my eyes turned down, and never raise them to that blessed Star which led the Wise Men to a poor abode? Were there no poor homes to which its light would have conducted me!”

May no one wish to lay these words aside at this season, or any other.

 Techie Meghana Subedar’s case where she lost her memory for six months is not isolated. Auto Raja, who runs a home for the destitute claims that nearly 500 such people came to his house as destitute and later went back when they regained their memory.

MiD DAY visited Auto Raja’s Home of Hope, and met people who seemed educated and spoke good English, but did not remember anything of their past.

Few months ago, the police found Latha on the roads with barely any clothes and brought her to the Home. “She had been sexually abused and didn’t know anything. After a week, she regained her memory and told us about herself. She was from Kerala and was traveling to Chennai to join her husband who was running a shop there. She had been missing for two weeks, during which she had lost her memory and was wandering at the bus station. Men raped her and left her without clothes. She gave us her husband’s contact details and he came to take her,” he said.

Last year, the police brought a Russian woman, who was found lying on the road and lost her memory. “After three months she regained her memory. She told us that she taught at a university in Russia and had come to Bangalore to visit the Satya Sai Baba ashram. Her daughter flew down and took her home,” he said.

Another boy Jabeel was rescued from a road side, where he was lying with injuries on his body. “We brought him home and tended to him. He did not know anything about himself and seemed to be dazed. With time, he too recollected things. He is perfectly normal now and remembers everything, but does not want to go back to his village,” said Auto Raja.

Jabeel told MiD DAY that people felt that there was evil spirit in him and had whip lashed him. “The people in my village near Mysore had whipped me saying that I had evil spirits in me and then dumped me in Bangalore. I am happy working in this home and do not want to go back,” he said.

Raja said that such cases were common. “Many people, who we think are destitute, slowly remember their past and go home. A few months ago, the police had brought another lady who was wandering with 30 grams of gold jewellery on her, but she did not remember a thing. After two months she recollected things and gave us her father’s address in Basaveshwarnagar. The lady was harassed by her in laws and so had become like this. Her father then took her home,” he said.

Home of Hope has many people who have still not regained their memories. Farida, was rescued from Race Course Road eight months ago, and was blank about who she was. “She was found begging on the road. Her head was full of lice and maggots. Slowly she remembered her name and she is remembering more things,” said Auto Raja.

Farida spoke to MiD DAY and said, “I have finished my plus two and was doing B Com in Maths from Annamalai University.” Beyond this she did not recollect anything about herself or her family.

Flora, an old lady speaks impeccable English. “I work in Frazer Town ma,” she said. When we asked where she worked she thought for some time and said, “In the Pastor’s House,” she said and did not remember anything more.

Kaushalya says that she is from Maharashtra but doesn’t know how she reached Bangalore. She was found in Shivajinagar. “Two three men used to take me to bushes everyday and do things,” she said and wept.

Two days ago, Raja rescued a girl from Chintamani, who was among pigs and she too doesn’t remember anything. A lady was found near Indiranagar Coffee Day with eaten chicken bones with her. “She speaks Telugu and seems to be from a good family, but she doesn’t remember her name,” he said.

Auto Raja’s story

T Raja, popularly known as Auto Raja was disowned by his family because of his stealing habits. “My family would even lock the food in the cupboard. I lived on roads among the homeless. I felt that I had to do something for them. It was after a month after Mother Teresa’s death that I found a man lying naked on the road and resolved I should become like Mother Teresa,” he said.

One day Raja picked up an old lady and brought her to his house. “I kept her in the place where my father kept his scooter. From then there has been no looking back and its 11 years now. I have taken care of thousands of people. 900 died in my arms and some got well and went back home,” he said.

As of now, Raja’s Home has about 300 people, out of which over a 100 have no clues of who they are. All the inmates call Raja Daddy.

Raja himself treats them and cleans them. “Many come with diseases and worms in their bodies. At least 10 to 20 people are brought here every month, and there are deaths too and we cremate the bodies. Some children bring their aged parents here and we refuse to take them. They them leave them on the road to the Home,” he said.

A few months ago, a case of forced conversion was slapped against Raja. “I am a Christian and I am doing service but I have not converted anyone so far. My friends had gone preaching and some RSS people complained that they were into conversion. Since I knew the police they called me for help. When I went there the RSS complained against me too. I am out on bail now. Because of this incident people have stopped giving donations,” he said.

Raja gets donations from some churches and also some individuals. “We get about Rs1 lakh as donation every month, but the expenditure goes up to Rs 1.5 lakh. I don’t want money, it will be nice we people give their old clothes, dettol, phenyl, bleaching powder, soap, coffee, tea powder, rice, dal, oil, chilly powder, dry chilies or some other things,” he said.

If you spot a destitute, or to help Raja call him on 9845281915/ 080 65997274/ 080 28445509.

On Sunday 22nd November we welcome Nigel Biggs from the Boaz Trust who will be preaching for us.

The Boaz Trust is a Christian charity which supports destitute asylum seekers in the Greater Manchester area by housing and feeding them.  They were founded by evangelical Christians but wryly note that most of their support comes from liberals and Buddhists!

Nigel is looking forward to meeting us all and telling us about the work of the Boaz Trust.

‘Give justice to the poor and the orphan; uphold the rights of the oppressed and the destitute.’ Psalm 82:3 NLT

The basics i need to know,
simplicity calls from a mot of dust,
for complication proceeds in layers,
confusion proceeds a blur–
the truth smeared around,
no answers for the everyman.

I move about a listen to the questions,
i see serious concerning faces,
i smell poison on laboured breath,
and i hear the anguish of the lost,
miasma sunken hearts–
may the shock of love arise.

Arise above the downtrodden,
come clear detritus by spirit order,
make aright the dizzy destitute,
for my found fortune vantage point reveals my fellow’s plight–
may my beating heart a drum for love sound out,
let my darling’s rhythm avail dense seeker’s jungle.

Click Here: I Approve this Message

Within every nation, state and community are the Forgotten. They are the weak, the poor, the homeless, those who are almost homeless, the street children, the abused, the handicapped, the list goes on. Basically, the Forgotten are also invisible. They exist, we just don’t see them, because they are not like us. We step around them on the sidewalk, we look the other way when they are standing on the corner, and we hope they don’t talk to us. The ironic part of this is that Jesus said they would always be with us.

When you see them sleeping under a bridge, or holding up a sign, or looking in the trash can for food, or picking up cans, or carrying everything they own in a trash bag, would you pray for them? Would it be too much to have compassion for them? Don’t feel sorry for them, that won’t help. True compassion requires action; offer them food, or a blanket, maybe you have some socks they can have, or just talk to them. It would take a lot to change the situation, but you can ease their suffering.

“Speak up for those who cannot speak for themselves, for the rights of all who are destitute.” Proverbs 31:8.

The President International Hotel was gleaming with colors of artificial cuboids structure erupted all the way along the sides of the main pathway into the hotel. The fountains emitted bright and dazzy colorful waters into the large water chamber fitted underneath to collect the flowing waters. The thick and wide red carpet was shining Saturn, laid on both sides of the fountains which lead to the large performance hall where the Fashion Show for the year is going to be held in an hour shortly.

The hotel’s reception was swarming with people who exemplified style icons and fashion freaks. They were clad in apparels exclusively designed by designers who were big shots in the fashion designing industry. Not to mention about the press who were almost fluttering with microphone and cameras around the celebrities and the contestants in an anticipation to get few words out of their mouth which will feed their magazines and newspapers for another week.

Jeniffer came into the contestants’ chamber and settled in her seat. All the others were looking at her with eyes wide open like an owl. She was gorgeous; her face was neat and glossy. It looked as if she had been carved out of butter. Most of them were busy adjusting their hair strands and their makeup. Though it was an air conditioned room, pearls of sweat appeared in the faces of the girls. Jeniffer looked calm and composed. She did not stress herself looking at all others.

“Excuse me. I’m Kalpana Roy from Bhubaneswar”. Jeniffer took her eyes off from the magazine which she was reading and smiled with her cutest of her symmetrical pink lips coated with a light red lip gloss which suited her face and lips perfect.

“I’m Jeniffer. Jeniffer Mathews”

“Glad to know you. I haven’t seen you in any of the fashion fest. Is this the first time you are contesting for “Miss Beauty Queen of the year?”, Kalpana replied.

“Errr…No I’ve been contesting for various fashion fests in the south and this is the first time, I’ve come over to Mumbai for this contest.” Jeniffer gave a smiling reply.

“Oh I see. So how are you feeling right now?”

Jeniffer’s mobile emitted a sweet soft ringtone, to which she excused herself and attended the call outside the contestants’ chamber. Her long white gown covering her from the shoulder to the ground swept the floor as she walked away. Kalpana was looking at the direction she went away.

***

Click the “Read more…” link below to read the rest of the story

The National Institute of Cancer located in the outskirts of Chennai was quite and calm. The roads by the side of the Institute seemed to be unmanned. There wasn’t a housefly or crow not even a cattle was found loitering in the campus. It was a sunny Saturday afternoon. Most of the hospital staffs had left for Lunch. There was a small pan shop outside the Institute which seemed to be busy with 4 people munching the pan and arguing about the immature political status of the country.

Ward no 114 was occupied by two women. One of them was admitted in the hospital a week back and the other one was the only friend who takes care of her. After detecting the cancer thing, her uncle and aunt left her in the Destitute Women House and they left the city in transfer. She was actually happy to be away from them as living with them was another hell.

Dr. Sharma removed his frameless specs and said to the duty nurse, “Her case was serious and she needs immediate treatment.”

“Doctor..But she is from destitute house. She can’t pay for the treatment” replied the nurse.

“But, she has been diagnosed a Basal Cell Carcinoma which is considered to be the basic type of skin cancer. Her face was greatly affected and visible patches of reddish brown layers have formed in the cheeks and forehead. It needs immediate attention. Otherwise it could lead to death slowly.” Said Dr. Sharma

“We need to contact the house for payment information. Once we get the details, we can start the treatment.” replied the Nurse.

“Well, a patient needs to be attended immediately. Please call the house and get the details”. Doctor ordered the nurse and left the room to attend the outpatients.

***

Inside Ward no 114,

“I know you that they will leave you soon. I expected this from them. After all, they are your close relations.”

“Yeah. But I didn’t know that they will leave me starving for care and affection. I did not expect anything from them. I was working and I was content with what I earned. But they were not happy seeing me happy.”

“I could sense this from the starting itself. Firstly they did not have any progeny of their own. Since your parents passed away in the air crash, they had to leave you under their care. Can’t they look after you as their own daughter?”

“That god only knows. They have a complex in their mind and they were jealous on my father’s well being and his fast growth.”

“Hmmm..”. Monal, her friend took a deep breath.

“My face has affected a lot due to allergy. The patches are burning and irritating….aaaahh… Please apply that ointment. It will douse the burns at least for some time.”

Monal applied the ointments on her face and her arms and legs. Monal knows that her friend is suffering from cancer. And the Doctor has informed her that due to the over dosage of medicines and the change in food habits, the skin is getting affected and she has been diagnosed a serious skin allergy.

“You know what Monal?..” She started. “I wanted to become a model and wanted to participate and win fashion titles. But this entire allergy has impeded my efforts to participate in any. “ Tears rolled down her cheeks.

***

By the time Jeniffer, came back to the contestants’ chamber, it was time for the show. So, all the contestants left the room towards the stage. The judges have arrived and they were in place.

All top sponsors like Westside, Kingfisher, Style Kandy, Grand Hyatt and Lifestyles and others were present and a separate bay has been allotted for the sponsors seating in the auditorium. Music tracks by famous artists including Rihanna, Miley Cirus, and Justin Timberlake were flowing into the ears like the musk fragrance of the auditorium room freshener.

All the contestants were nervous on what is going to happen in another few hours. All top ex beauty contestants and winners were present in the special seating zone. Industry’s top designers all over the world have come for the fashion fest.

Kalpana was telling to her makeup woman, “I’m quite nervous. I haven’t seen such a large crowd.”

“Is that you Kalpana, feeling so nervous? I’ve been with you since three years. In these times, I haven’t found you so nervous.”

“Yeah….but today somehow I feel nervous. Did you see Jeniffer?”

“Jeniffer? Who is that?”

“She is a new contestant. This is her first time it seems. But still she is calm and composed. She is free of tension. See there. How calm she is. She has a faith on her beauty. I can’t just imagine myself sitting like that. I’m afraid. She is beautiful too. She may win the title.”

“Kalpana madam, do not ponder over things like that and don’t stress yourself. I’ll see to it that you look like an angel.”

“Thanks a lot”, Kalpana said and looked at the other side where Jeniffer was sitting.  She could feel the drop of sweat dripping down her cheeks in spite of being the air condition extremely high. She used the tissue paper as absorbent to dry that sweat off.

The show started in twenty minutes and the beauties started ramp walking in the stage one by one. Each of them was clad in apparels designed by expert costume designers and amateurs. Models started walking with heels extremely high and it appeared as if they are walking on toes. Mr. Siddharth Basu was the chief judge who was to interview the contestants on stage. Jeniffer came walking in the ramp. Suddenly all the on lookers started concentrating on her. She carried herself in utmost composure. Her body language was perfect. She came till the edge of the ramp towards the audience and walked back towards the stage and after two steps she turned back and gave a quick pause and then she continued her walk towards the back stage. The judges were impressed and they made few notes. Kalpana too attracted few of the audiences.

The ramp walking came to an end and it was the questioning session. Each of the contestants was called and they were asked questions. Points were awarded and judged by the knowledge, brevity, quick wittedness, Grooming, Intelligence, Correctness, Consistency and clarity.

Jeniffer was waiting for her turn. Kalpana went to her.

“Hi Jeniffer…You were awesome on stage. Someone is looking gorgeous.”, She broke the silence.

“Thank you very much. So when is your turn?”, Jeniffer asked.

“They asked me to wait. I’ll be called. So I have time”

“Very Good…You can relax then”, Jeniffer said.

“Yea actually that’s true. And hey you did not tell me where you are from, when we spoke before.”

Jeniffer thought for a moment. “Yeaah, you are right. I’m from Chennai”

“Glad to know you”, she smiled.

Announcement came from the audi, “Jeniffer Mathews from Chennai”

“My name is being called. I’ll get back to you later.”. Jeniffer said this and left the place in hurry. Kalpana felt something creepy about her. Whenever I wanted to talk to this girl, something or the other distracts the conversation. Last time it was her mobile and this time it was the announcement.

“Hello Miss Jeniffer. Welcome to this Elle 18 Fasion Fest contest for the Miss Beauty Queen of the year.”, Siddharth Basu continued in his loud audible voice.

The audiences were again delighted to see Jeniffer back in the stage. They were eagerly waiting to hear her voice and the answers with which she is going to convince Siddharth.

***

The ward nurse contacted the destitute house for informing the details about the treatment and to enquire about the payment. The house in charge informed the nurse that, they will let them know the details in the Hospital itself. They will be there in another two hours.

In the Doctor’s room,

“Hello Dr. Sharma. I’m Krishnamoorthy from the Destitute House. I’m here to discuss about the treatment which you are going to initiate for her. I looked into the treatment charges. We do not have enough funds to pay you for this treatment. I do not know what has to be done now for this.”

“What? I’m sorry Krishnamoorthy, I’m helpless here. I’ll not be able to do anything unless the payment comes. The therapist and the instrument cost cannot be paid by the hospital authorities. You can give ad in newspapers requesting kind donations or you can talk to her parents.”

“Parents? She doesn’t have one. She is dropped here in our house by her uncle and they left the city and we did not hear back from them. I’ll try giving ad in the newspapers. Thank You”

“Thank You Mr. Krishnamoorthy”, doctor bid adieu to the house in charge.

***

After 10 days, Inside Ward no 114,

“How are you feeling? Is the patches still burning?”,  Monal enquired her friend

“Yea it’s still burning. I’m not able to withstand the burning sensation.”. Monal thought, it is already a month she has been admitted here. Are they going to start the treatment?

In the Doctors room.

“Doctor, she is suffering a lot for the past two days. Is the treatment started? You informed me that she will be transferred to special ward once the treatment starts. But she is still kept in general ward.”

“Yes Monal, the treatment is not yet started. I’ve not received complete funds. The house authorities were helpless; they were able to get only 20% of the amount. With that, I’ll not be able to start the treatment. Newspaper Ads haven’t fetched enough money. I have included the amount which you gave. Still I’m helpless. I should wait for some more days.”

“Attrocious !!!!!!!! This is inhumane. Someone is suffering from pain and can’t you take steps to prevent that at least. Keeping her in the medication doesn’t help in long run. Don’t the doctors have hearts? Are they so cruel and run behind money? Then why do you call this, a service? You are running a business and not Hospital….” Monal blurted out and she was in tears.

“Monal…I can understand your feelings but this is something I can’t do anything about it.”

“Monal retorted, “Do you know the consequence of this delay?”

“Yes I’m fully aware of this. She may have to put her life in stake. It is a sure way to death !” Sharma replied with heavy heart.

By the time he finished this. The saline bottle near the doctor’s room entrance crashed and fell down. The glass bottle broke into pieces spilling the saline water all over the floor.

Sharma looked towards the door encountering a sudden shock of seeing her near the door.

“Jenny!!!!!!!!” Monal shouted and stood up in an effort to comfort her. But she knew that all her efforts will go in vain.

“Don’t tell me anything. I heard everything. I do not want to suffer pain for long. I didn’t know I’m going to die soon doctor.” Saying this she ran away from the place and started moving towards the exit. Monal pushed the chair and followed Jenny. Sharma was too much horrified seeing all this and he too followed Monal to stop Jenny taking wrong decision at this time. Three of them were running hastily behind each other. As expected, they encountered a large open window along the corridor. By the time, they could reach for Jenny; she has climbed up the large window pane setting herself down to the ground from the 6^th floor of the National Institute of Cancer.

Monal and Sharma stood still, motionless.

***

Siddharth was in his full flow. He was shooting questions to Jeniffer one by one and was happy to award points listening to the amazing answers from her.

“Who is the one who cannot be cheated?” This is Siddharth.

“Death” swiftly came the reply

“Who are the ones who can be relied on?”

“Friends”

“Name the one which cannot be withstood by anyone.”

“Pain”

“Something which you can keep on others and which shouldn’t be broken”

“Trust” This is Jeniffer

“OK, One thing which you cannot get back”

“Life”

“OK One final question. In what way this title going to help you in your career?”

Jeniffer thought for a moment and replied, “I’ll achieve my life time dream of becoming a world renowned beauty Icon. This achievement will give me peace and it is the fruit of my hard work and my persistent determination to achieve this thing. I can explore further avenues in this area and can contribute things towards this fashion industry.”

“Wonderful. Thank you for your time. I’m glad on hearing your answers.”

Claps and hooting from the audience were obvious at that point of time. There was a cheering group which displayed a placard “Jenifer our Miss Beauty Queen of the year”.

She left the stage. “Kalpana Roy from Bhubaneshwar”, came the next call.

After an hour of interviewing, the fashion festival came to a successful end and the closing ceremony was in which Jeniffer was awarded the Miss Beauty Queen of the year award. A famous and successful bollywood heroine crowned her with the Beauty Crown.

***

A week later, the Fashion fest authorities decided to send in a surprise gift to the Contest Winner. An interview has been arranged with the Winner and the contest chief judge Mr. Siddharth Basu. For that, the authorities sent an invite letter to the address mentioned in the contestant details sheet. The invitation was returned back and the postman informed that there was no one in the name of Jeniffer in that address.

They were astonished to hear this from the postman. They informed Mr Basu that, the interview will be conducted next week as there was some problem in the delivery of the invitation. Siddharth then told that, he will give a surprise visit to her house.  The postman would have been drunk.

“Ok then Mr Siddharth, here is the address and the phone number. Try your luck and let us know if she is ready for the interview tomorrow.”

“Thank you very much.”. He got the address, took his car and reached the place which was mentioned in the address chit. He couldn’t find any apartment in that locality. There was a destitute house which was found with the door number mentioned in the chit. He entered the house and enquired.

“I would like to meet Jeniffer”

An old man with long and loose pyjamas came out from his room and beckoned Siddharth inside.

“I’m the in charge of this destitute house. Which Jeniffer are you talking about?”

“What?!!!!!!…I’m talking about Miss Beauty Queen of the year Jeniffer Mathews.”

The old man thought for a moment and his eyes went opened wide. “Please wait a minute. I’ll come shortly.” Said the old man and disappeared into the house. Siddharth thought, how could this happen. She should have been belonged to a rich family in a decent locality. Let she be a normal middle class girl, but she should have been living in some decent house. Did I end up in a correct place? He came back to his senses when he heard a coughing sound nearing him.

“Are you talking about this girl?” The oldman showed a ledger dated some 30 years back, with the name written in blue ink pen – JENIFFER MATHEWS

“Yes. She is the one. I have her photo also.”. Siddharth took out the Fashion magazine and showed it to the old man.

Seeing the photo, the old man became horror-struck and his mouth went wide open. He couldn’t believe what he was seeing.

“Do you have her contact number?” enquired the old man with the fear still in his eyes.

“Yes I do have. Here it is”.

The old man dialed the number. The ring went on and the call was connected.

“Hello. Krishnamoorthy here. May I know to whom I’m talking to?”

“Hello, this is Monal here” came the dull voice. Hearing this, the old man’s heart almost stopped. Can you please come over to the address which I am going to tell you now? I would like to talk to you about Jeniffer.”

***

Monal was horrified listening to the whole story and the information from Siddharth. She spoke with heavy heart…

“Jeniffer died thirty years back in the National Institute of Cancer. She was suffering from Skin Cancer and out of the sheer pain which she wasn’t able to withstand and the knowing the truth that the pain is out of cancer and not because of allergy she jumped from the 6^th floor of the Institute and ended her life. The doctors were not in a position to end her pain. So she ended herself. She wanted to become a world renowned model and wanted to participate in the Fashion Contest and win titles. Hope she has achieved it today, what she wanted 30 years back. Please come with me”

All the three landed in Monal’s House and Siddharth was almost unconscious seeing the albums with Monal and Jeniffer. She had the same face. There was a fashion show organized in her college. Monal showed a photo of hers participating in the Competition. She was clad in the same white Apparel which she has been wearing when the Fashion fest held last week.

Siddharth couldn’t believe what he was seeing. Monal took them to the backyard of her house where she was cremated.

The Cemetery read

~~~

JENIFFER MATHEWS

D/O Joseph Mathews

3^rd August 1955 – 7^th April 1979

REST IN PEACE

†

~~~

Her words still reverberated in his ears

“Who is the one who cannot be cheated?”

“Death”

“OK, One thing which you cannot get back”

“Life”

Jeniffer looked like angel in the cover of the fashion magazine.

-The End-

Seusai memperoleh penghargaan sebagai cendekiawan berkomitmen dari harian Kompas tahun 2008, pada pertengahan tahun ini Sajogyo kembali dianugerahi Acmad Bakrie Award dalam pemikiran sosial. Penghargaan dipersembahkan atas karya monumentalnys, yaitu garis kemiskinan Sajogyo.

Garis kemiskinan itu dipergunakan secara luas sejak tahun 1977, sebelum akhirnya pemerintah secararesmi menggunakan garis kemiskinan Badan Pusat Statistik (BPS) mulai tahun 1984.

Namun, kelebihan karya Sajogyo yang hingga kini tetap diakui ialah kepraktisan penggunaannya untuk kehidupan sehari-hari. Seorang petani gurem dengan mudah menyatakan dirinya miskin saat tidak mampu makan lebih dari sekali dalam sehari.

Meski memiliki sejarah emas, tidak banyak yang menyadari secara mendalam kelebihan garis kemiskinan Sajogyo ini. Konsekuensinya amat jauh sehingga sampai tiga dekade pun belum ada pihak yang (mampu) mervitalisasi kemiskinan tersebut.

Garis Sajogyo

Setelah melakukan survei gizi dan pangan rumah tangga pada awal 1970-an, Sajogyo menemukan artikel pengukuran garis kemiskinan berbasis gizi dari Schikele. Di kemudian hari survei gizi itu merekomendasikan program monumental taman gizi dan usaha peningkatan gizi keluarga. Dan ide Schikele dioperasionalkan ke dalam garis pemiskinan Sajogyo.

Dari sejarah kelahiran terlihat kaitan erat antara nilai gizi terendah dan garis kemiskinan. Nilai gizi minimal setara 2.100 Kkal per orang dalam sehari berlaku untuk penduduk Indonesia menurut susunan umur, jenis kelamin, perkiraan tingkat kegiatan (fisik), berat badanm dan perkiraan status fisiologis.

Yang penting diperhatikan, pada saat data dikumpulkan lebih luas daripada satuan rumah tangga, maka ciri-ciri kebutuhan cizi manusia Indonesia semakin menjauh. Simpangan datanya menurun hingga dua deviasi standar sehingga masih bisa ditoleransi hingga 1.900 Kkal per orang per hari.

Ada pun proses pengumpulan data gizi dengan penggunakan pendekatan ingatan (recall) sering kali terlapor lebih rendah (under reporting) hingga 20 persen. Atas dasar pengalaman ini, maka garis kemiskinan terbawah dapat ditoleransi hingga 1.700 Kkal per orang per hari.

Dengan memerhatikan pengalaman lapangan ini, garis kemiskinan Sajogyo menjadi lebih relevan bagi warga miskin Indonesia. Misalnya, jika dibandingkan dengan (hanya satu) garis kemiskinan BPS senilai 2.100 Kkal per orang per hati, yang melebihi kebutuhan minimal gizi dan pangan riil.

Tiga baris

Lain pula dari pendirian BPS, Sajogyo perlu menyusun garis kemiskinan lebih dari satu agar kian tajam mengukur kemajuan golongan bawah. Dirumuskannya garis melarat (destitute), miskin sekali (very poor), dan miskin (poor).

Berdasarkan nilai tukar beras, dibedakan pula garis kemiskinan pedesaan dan perkotaan. Di desa dioancang garis 180 kh, 240 kg, dan 320 kg setara beras per orang per tahun. Untuk kota nilainya 270 kg, 360 kg, dan 480 kg setara beras per orang per tahun.

Setelah ditemukan hubungan regresif antara pengeluaran rumah tangga dan pangan, sejak tahun 1979 garis terbawah dihilangkan. Dan “ miskin sekali” diganti menjadi “nyaris miskin” yang setara dengan data 1.700 Kkal per orang per hari (harap di-mark up 20 persen). Artinya, garis nyaris miskin berfungsi sebagai lampu merah karena di bawah garis itu pastilah tidak mencukupi untuk hidup.

Untuk mengoperasionalkan garis kemiskinan, nilai kalori di konversi ke nilai rupiah. Dari Survei Sosial Ekonomi Nasional (Susenas), misalnya, Sajogyo menemukan bagi golongan miskin tahun 1976 nilainya Rp 32,16 per 1.000 Kkal, kemudian meningkat menjadi Rp 77,15 per 1.000 Kkal pada tahun 1984. Inilah inflasi riil bagi orang miskin.

Demi kepraktisan, nilai rupiah bagi kalori lalu dipertukarkan dengan nilai beras. Beras mudah dipahami sebagai sumber kalori dan harganya tidak fluktuatif.

Sajogyo lebih memercayai rekaman harga beras dalam Susenas daripada rata-rata harga beras di pasar yang pernah diacu BPS. Susenas lebih masuk akal di mana harga beras di pedesaan lebih rendah daripada di perkotaan.
Setelah garis kemiskinan

Saat ini seluruh konsep garis kemiskinan, baik dari Sajogyo, BPS maupun konsultan asing, habis diktritik karena tidak memberi alamat pasti, dimana kah penduduk miskin dapat ditemukan. Sebagai gantinya dikembangkan sensus rumah tangga miskin yang mengandung data nama sekaligus alamat rumah mereka.

Namun, sensus segera menuai kritik tajam lantaran tokoh masyarakat cenderung memasukkan sebanyak mungkin warganya agar turut mencicipi kue pembangunan.

Sajogyo sendiri sejak awal menyadari bahwa penemuan aspek kuantitatif barulah tahap awal pendalaman pengetahuan kemiskinan di Indonesia. Untuk memutakhirkan garis kemiskinan Sajogyo, kita cukup menghitung nilai rupiah dari 1.700 dan 1.900 Kkal per orang per har dalam periode lima tahunan.

Setelah garis kemiskinan ditermukan, yang lebih dibutuhkan ialah studi kualitatif guna menggali jeratan akar struktur kemiskinan. Penemuan beragam diagram sebab-akibat kemiskinan di setiap daerah menjadi pisau yang lebih tajam guna memotong akar kemiskinan Indonesia.

Sumber  :

Setelah Garis Kemiskinan Sajogyo, Ivanovich Agusta | Dosen Sosiologi Kemiskinan dan Pemberdayaan Sosial, Sekolah Pascasarjana IPB, Bogor
Kompas, 09.09.2009

Perfect strangers

What was our love acquaint -
But proverbial ships which passed in the night
as brushing bows we whispered softly into the other’s sails.
Without commitment to amour nor anchor
that no words needed spoken except a sincerity of knowing
of what has past was once present awaiting we
meet again on the fated seas
- Of our souls.

© Charles Coakley Simpson 2009

Blue

Color my world –
As I am lost in a moment
of which I cannot find my way back
- Without you.

© Charles Coakley Simpson 2008

A doorman in New York City explained to me briefly the path to homelessness:

“Well, people just give up, you know? Life is a hassle. Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday, Friday, you gotta get up, go to work, buy groceries, pay rent, do a million other things. The whole time you’re worried: ‘What if I can’t make rent this month? What if I get fired from my job?’ You learn to accept it. Becoming homeless is like a process – and that’s the first step.

Most people is just tired. They’re tired of being behind on their rent; tired of their landlord yellin’ at them, tired of working a shit job for shit pay; tired of the whole grind.

So say they get fired. Happens to a lot of people nowadays. Maybe it takes them a while to get another job. Maybe they don’t look as hard as they could’ve. Well the landlord – he don’t care if you’re depressed; first of the month comes around and you don’t have your rent, well buddy, you outta there!

So he gets kicked out. Maybe he applies to some shelter programs or whatever, but maybe he says “all that paperwork is a bother – and this city ain’t done shit for me yet”. So he’s on the street. One week, two weeks, all of a sudden he’s not washing. He smells. So who’s gonna hire him now?

Then maybe he gets in some trouble, drugs, fighting, whatever. Now he’s got a record, and ain’t nobody gonna hire his ass. You got a felony, even a misdemeanor, you gotta put that down on your application. I know somebody who lied about that stuff – he got the job, but they found out in like 2 weeks and said ’see ya!’

So now you’re really on the streets, been there for a few months. You got no bills, but you also got no income. You gotta sleep on the subway, live off of whatever change people give you. You see a cop, you gotta move in the other direction. But worse, you don’t care. You’re used to it. You can barely remember life used to be different. Especially once you get into drugs and that shit, it becomes a cycle. Now you definitely can’t go for help.

It all starts with the apathy, y’know? People just give up. I see it a lot. That’s why you gotta find some reason to be happy, some reason to be thankful, every single day. Because a lotta these guys – once they dig this hole for themselves, that’s it. They never gettin’ out. You gotta stay positive.”

There is a website that you can apply to for destitute situations for a financial burden that will look at your need after applying and decide through donors if they will help you. It is called
www.modestneeds.org   If you are in a position that you qualify for a certain financial specific need, donors look to donate to your cause.   It could take months before your account is filled and paid for – or you could donate to a specific case.

It’s dark enough to close my eyes
And listen not to this world around.
What I can hear is just a distant echo;
A chorus with hymns from childhood,
And the days filled with innocence.

There is a home other side of this river
From where I belong and was born.
I see apparitions there that shiver
As have grown old and are in need
Of a shoulder strong to rest upon.

In dark I listen to the loved lullabies
My mother sung on summer nights,
And the warmth of winter evenings
That she rendered on the river bank.

But with time’s cruel intention,
Innocence breaks and broods.
And grows old with the shepherd’s tale;
Here is the world on the other side,
Where nothing heals but the memory.

A thinking mind brings misfortune,
And judges nothing but profit;
The world grows older with us
And in us it finds a waning moon.

But there calls the same bird
On the same bough to get back
And restore the glories of our past.
We will not journey together
But on parallel ships with coloured mast
And find enough wind to whack;
And courage to listen to the bard.

There is a home calling!

Closure

Grant me the strength –
Where I can drive in this final nail
Might there be worse things to die for than love
you are still all that I cannot leave
- Behind.

© Charles Coakley Simpson 2009

Inspired by For every moment borrowed…

Written by Words we never said

Are Ghanaians Ready For The Hunger Invation?

There are three basic things a people in every nation need: a good representation, welfare, and security. People in any given community must be represented well in Parliament by their members of parliament. The welfare of people must be Government’s first top priority as well as that of anybody who believes in the well-being of humanity. The security of people is even more paramount. But the three elements together ensure peacefulness of mind to work; they ensure safety, economic growth and development, and good living standards in any nation. I would take this opportunity to thank the Ghana Police force for their uncompromising efforts in ensuring that the security of individuals in the country is upheld.

The basic security a person needs in a country aside from all the other forms of security that exist is food security. I think this form of security is the most important of all and at the same time the fuel that activates the other security engines in the nation for an active and effective functioning. Many farmers, food vendors, and other akin workers whose livelihood are directly or indirectly associated with agriculture do not see their activities as ‘security ventures’. Today, I want them to see it as such and be in the know that the total comfort and security of Ghanaians actually rest mostly on their backs and not necessarily on the police. The police have their place but food-related activities are the basics of all security initiatives. Due to the rising food and fuel prices, the weakening of the Cedi as against the dollar, and high inflation rates the nation is encountering, the basic security of the country is under threat.

When food prices increase, the rural landless and the urban poor stand the greatest risk of food insecurity. Though rural farmers in Africa form about 50% of the most indigent people on the Continent, the questions of what to feed on and what to feed their families with have never been a problem for those peasants. It is wrong to assume that Ghana is food secure. Merely because the basic staples, like yam, cassava, plantain, cocoyam, potatoes and others, in addition to some culturally acceptable vegetables and fruits, are available in abundance does not mean the country is food secure. The issue with food security is that food must not just be available but also affordable at all times.

Food security refers to the access to available and adequate food at all times by all people for a healthy and an active life. This means food must not only be available at all times, it must additionally be adequate as well as affordable so that the destitute can access it and afford it altogether. This also means that food must contain all the Recommended Dietary Allowance (RDA) for energy, growth and development, and a healthy life.

One of the important indicators of food insecurity is malnutrition. It was accounted last year by the U.N Human Development Report that about 20% of Ghanaian children under the age of five were malnourished. In the Western countries the opposite is true; people suffer from over-nutrition (a type of malnutrition). So as the West face cases of over-nutrition, so-called Third World and developing countries experience too often the canker of malnourishment. Food security is a primary concern for all; and every Ghanaian has a major role to play. This role should not solely be reserved to farmers or the Government. As a matter of reality, all of us are supposed to be farmers of some sort. A small back yard farm will enable a household to decrease the value of its food production deficit and use its food budget surplus to buy additional nutrient-rich aliments instead, like fish, eggs, beans, and fruits, a privilege those without back yard farms do not have.

Food security analysis is an inequality equation; if the value of a household food production deficit is more than the household’s income or budget allocated to food purchase, that household will be at risk of food insecurity. This is because more money must be spent on some particular types of food while other types are neglected so that the household food requirement needs can be met. In this case, food might not be adequate (nutritionally) for that household. The reversal of the equation is true. If the value of food production deficit is low and the income allocated to food purchase is rather high, food becomes more affordable and might only then be adequate, depending on the household’s level of education or preferences. So, the key determinant of food security is not necessarily the abundance of food supply but the purchasing power of the household. This means prices of food is what determines who buys what and who cannot do so. Obviously, the rich are more at the advantageous side since they have strong purchasing power as compared to their poor counterparts. This is what makes unemployment a terrible situation in the country; people might have to steal before they can eat, especially in this season where food prices are skyrocketing.

Farmers who have little sense of morality but are more particularly profit-driven might take advantage of the global food crisis and inflate the prices of their produce to the detriment of the poor. Ghana is not ready for this and I am afraid, if we do not put strong measures in place to ensure that at least, every individual who has access to any piece of land enter a small scale subsistence farming just to decrease their food production deficit, this invader (hunger) will use the element of surprise.

In Senegal, last year, President Abdoulaye Wade lunched a campaign to stimulate abundant food production by all who have access to lands. He urged his Ministers and MPs to cultivate plots of land, and encouragingly many heeded to his call. If it worked in Senegal then it can work in Ghana as well. Government intervention programs on behalf of the poor and even the rich must not only be limited to helping farmers cut down on the cost of production through fertilizer subsidies and lifted taxes. The pathway of President Wade of Senegal is also highly considerable.

The recent oil discovery has activated an expectation of relief for our farmers. Soon, Ghana will be in the position of manufacturing fertilizers, and this means farmers will spend less on fertilizers, hence their cutting down on the cost of production. The resultant effect that would ensue is that prices of farm produce will drop as production cost is reduced due to easy access to fertilizers and petrol to run the engines of their tractors and other farm machineries. Yet in effect, I say this with the hope that Government will subsidize these products for farmers and for others whose activities are indirectly related to agriculture.

Unlike the East African countries like Kenya, Ethiopia, Somalia and the rest, Ghana might be feeling secured by the seasonal rainfalls. In Ethiopia alone a possible number of over 4 million people are food insecure and 8 million more are under such a threat because the rains are falling offshore, in the Indian Ocean, rather than on the Nation soil. With rising temperatures and little or no rainfall, crops are not yielding their best and the related results are terrible. Ghana seems to have had a change in her climate for some time now. The rains are in early this time round and the weather has been generally fair, which is conducive for agriculture. It is of no wonder to see people who have access to pieces of land planting corn and vegetables. If the rains are not falling in East Africa, it is possible we might also encounter drought due to the current changes in climatic conditions. Therefore, depending on rainfed agriculture, this is not too secure for us. Government and private corporate bodies must invest heavily into irrigation agriculture and tap enough water from the nation’s abundant drainage resources so as to enable crops do well in the event of a drought. Only about 7% of farmlands in Africa are under irrigation and this is no good news! Ghana must add up to the percentage significantly. A long-term drought will throw the nation into anarchy since food will be scarce and its prices will soar extensively. Survival will be for the richest and the well armed in such a terrible situation.

I perceive a coming industrial revolution that will set Ghana at a prominent position in the finished goods market, and not just the commodity market. The nation will begin to export goods like cars, sound systems, and so on to other countries. This revolution will attract more investors than it has evern been expected and the scramble for lands will intensify. Lands will be needed for the construction of big factories and industries as many farmers will begin to focus more on agro-processing plants. This means commercial agriculture will be the desire of many farmers as it will fetch them more money. The problem with commercial agriculture is that, when it becomes the focus of the day it blinds the eyes of many people from appreciating the indispensability of subsistence farming. Can a nation export food (processed and unprocessed) whiles its people starve? I would appeal to the Government to be very vigilant and come up with policies that will protect a significant amount of arable lands for the production of the basic staples that make us self-sufficient as a nation in terms of food. Commercial agriculture is good, it fetches farmers and the Government money; but we must not throw away self-sufficiency for the international market. A lack in self-sufficiency is a food security breach.

One of the key factors that affect food security is population. In recent Ghana, the introduction of the free maternal care program, the free education program from primary to the J.H.S level, and the school feeding program have unleashed a competition of uncontrolled childbearing activities among uneducated and inconsiderate men and women. According to the African Report, the population of the country stands at an amazing 23.4 million.This population growth will subject farmers and the Government to severe pressure to allow an increase in food production. But with more focus on wrong political games than on humanity, I do not think Ghana is ready for this. A basic economic principle of supply and demand means that, when population increase there will be more demand for food (considering also the fact that we will have pregnant women and lactating mothers). And as demand increases and supply decreases, prices of food will soar, the poor and the average Ghanaian will be in danger of malnutrition and possibly death.

In conclusion, I would like to admonish all Ghanaians to bear in mind that we all have a responsibility to guard our families and national gates against any hunger invasion. Government cannot do everything for us and food is not the only thing we need as a nation. We require education, clean water, among other wants, which are also important. We must team up with Government and other private bodies, directly or indirectly, to ensure that agriculture and other gates are well secured. Let us all remember that a nation is as strong as those who serve it.

Fidel Y. Tetteh
(Repairers of the Breach, Africa)

Time has changed attitudes in fathers who discover the fact that their beloved sons are gay.

It used to be the norm that a father, taken aback by surprise and shock when their male offspring leaped out from hiding in the gay closet to announce himself, to beat him senseless and hammering out the unnatural. Nowadays, the attitude is live and let live, celebrate the nature of their sexuality, but little thought is given to the benefits a father might enjoy from such a lifestyle declaration from their male heir.

 I’ve often wondered how my life would be if I’d decided to be a gay instead of a boring heterosexual. I think that apart from having a sore bum most mornings, that choice can only have held more positives in life for me.

 I’ve met and know quite a few decent blokes who have chosen to be gay. I use the term chosen to be gay rather than decided to be homosexual, in that they all seem to be happy. And I’m not surprised they are happy since they are never skint!

Gay guys very rarely have the economic hindrance of a wife and cash hungry offspring, unless they were once confused or helped out a friendly lesbian couple via a turkey baster and the CSA found out. Thus since they lack those breathing currency haemorrhaging elements they are able to enjoy the purchasing power of their pink pounds not afforded to straight guys.

 They also are able to pursue their career ambitions without the inconvenience of a nagging missus, setting up an abode near to relatives to ensure a cheap supply of child care & baby sitting, and also having to be home from the office at a reasonable hour for dinner. So they can in effect take advantage to boost their earnings by working all the hours god sends or indulging in a spot of economic migration should work opportunity require it.

 Some gay guys might suggest that simply moving to pursue a career promotion isn’t as easy or stressless as it sounds for them, but its hardly going to be a complete hardship since they only really need a one bedroom place and not 3 at a minimum and as for social life upheaval, well less traumatic than such an undertaking for a straight bloke, since wherever you live these days a public convenience or secluded park isn’t too far away to get to for a 11PM soirée on a Saturday night and make new friends.

 In the real world, men still are the highest earners, and thus if two gay guys decide to set up home together, yippee, quids In, burn that disposable pink income baby yeah!!!! Unlike a straight bloke setting up with a woman and watch that money disappear into the bottomless pit of homemaking & offspring raising, baby NO!!!!

I’m positive that should you decide to straw poll all the guys you encounter that appear well off or drive expensive sports cars, the greater majority will be gay and homosexual. I’ve not met a skint puff yet .

 In fact, I’m also quite sure that most men over retirement age who go on luxury holidays are gay, since their working lifetime of copious disposable income has allowed them to invest in decent pension funds etc

 Unlike poor old hetro me. My disposable income having been ravaged by a marriage and resulting cash addicted rats. I’ve just received a statement from one of my private pension funds, which was very nice of them to let me know that as yet, their organisation hasn’t gone tits up due to a spot of unregulated drunken commodities gambling or the board becoming shopaholics with a fetish for toxic loans. However, I was a bit upset that the fund is now worth less than I’ve been pumping into it courtesy of the annual management charge and bugger all interest, so at this rate, when I retire I’ll be paying them and that Around the World retirement cruise will be but a dream.

 Since the option of becoming gay and thus well off isn’t available to me anymore, I’m looking with a keen scrutinizing eye at my two young sons, hoping that they or at least one of them, might be gay.

Should that be the case, then I will welcome the moment when either of them hurls themselves out of the gay closet to lavish cash on their destitute old man and being able to fill the deficits in my pension provision for when I eventually retire.

 I may not end up with lovely grandchildren, but at least I’ll get a luxury holiday without having a sore arse!

Positive Investment

destitute \DESS-tuh-toot\
adjective
1 : lacking something needed or desirable 2 : lacking possessions and resources; especially : suffering extreme poverty

Did you know?

You may be surprised to learn that “destitute” is related to words like “statue,” “statute,” and even “statistics.” The Latin word “status,” meaning “position” or “state,” is the source of these and other English words. Some terms of this family are directly related to “status,” while others come to English through “statuere,” a Latin derivative of “status” that means “to set up.” “Destitute” came from “destituere” (“to abandon” or “to deprive”), a joining of “statuere” and the prefix “de-” (“from, down, away”). “Statuere” also gave us “constitute,” “institute,” and “restitution,” among other similar-sounding words. [info courtesy of Merriam-Webster]

Poem

destitute

A poverty of soul
And a poverty of things
A complete loss
An absence of everything
An armful of nothing
I could be better
I could have more
I could be worse
I lack much
I could have less.
It is fine.
It is what we know.

• \DESS-tuh-toot\ • adjective

1 : lacking something needed or desirable
2 : lacking possessions and resources; especially : suffering extreme poverty
[Ro] nevoiaş, sărac, fără mijloace

Example sentence:
“He gave thanks for our food and comfort, and prayed for the poor and destitute in great cities, where the struggle for life was harder than it was here with us.”
“El ne-a multumit pentru mâncare şi ospitalitate, şi se ruga pentru cei săraci şi nevoiaşi din oraşe mari, unde lupta pentru viaţă este mai grea decât aici la noi.”
(Willa Cather, My Antonia)

CUvântul destitute este înrudit cu cuvintele statue, statute, şi chiar statistics.
CUvântul latin status, însemna poziţie, situaţie, rang şi stă la originea acestor cuvinte englezeşti.
Unele cuvinte din această familie provin direct de la status, în timp ce alte au venit în engleză prin statuere, un derivat al lui status care însemna a pune în poziţie verticală, a monta, a ridica, a stabili.
Destitute provine de la destituere (a abandona, a părăsi, a da afară), prin alăturarea lui statuere de prefixul de-.
Statuere deasemenea stă la originea lui constitute, institute, restitution,.

Your application is one of the first four so that will be accepted.

I did it, I took the plunge and feel great!! I tried to get to work on time today, so that when voluntary opened, I could get my email in at 09:00:30, but I spent 12 mins looking for my keys (normal) and broke my mac a little this morning, so as from 09:10(BST) I am now jobless, but very VERY happy!