Children Of God
Summer camps are those few days of fun every parent looks forward to. Parents expect that their kids should not while away their precious holidays at home. They enroll them into various arenas that could possibly, nurture their talents and make them smart, productive and proactive. Their long-term goal is to ensure that their kids grow into responsible individuals in the community, and the camps are places where children learn as they play. Summer camps have several train-the-brain activities for kids, inculcated with fun exercises that impart desirable social skills in them. In the beautiful district of Shivamogga, three voluntary organizations and a self-help group have joined hands in organizing, for yet another year, Chinnara Loka (World of Kids), a summer camp at Parisara Adhyayana Kendra (Center for Environmental Studies), a serene green landscape in the Santhekadooru village. You might be wondering why am I reporting about this summer camp? Well; I admit that this camp is very much like most of the other summer camps, in terms of the activities and the participants. But, here, it is the children who are a lot more special.
The Karnataka Health Promotion Trust (KHPT; visit http://www.khpt.org/) has spearheaded innumerable care-and-support interventions for the HIV-infected population, instilling in their hearts, confidence and hopes: confidence about their capabilities in life, and hope that things get better with every new tomorrow. Vihaan, the care-and-support wing of KHPT, envisaged a whole new package for this year's summer camp - coordinating with groups that work for environmental preservation and integrated development. My professor and me were driven to the camp from the medical college, guided towards the destination by two enthusiastic social workers from KHPT, Mr. Kumar and Mr. Joseph. These men, with educational tools in their backpacks, are engaged in sincere service for the unfortunate people. During the journey, we discussed about the running projects of KHPT, funding irregularities and, for a relatively shorter while, job prospects for community medicine specialists in KHPT. The 6-km drive terminated at the entrance to a tranquil and placid stretch of coconut groves. We had reached Parisara Adhyayana Kendra (Center for Environmental Studies).
It was day 3 at the camp. Since we were only concerned with the health checkup for the kids, we had to settle with our stethoscopes at a makeshift consultation room set up inside a tent. The organizers planned the health checkup to go parallel with the life-skills education session for the last day at the camp. I made a mention above that the kids at this camp were special. Yes; they are the children whose parents were infected with the deadly and potentially incurable Human Immuno-deficiency Virus (HIV). Legends in religious scriptures have stories of how a powerful curse could wipe out an entire clan and lead to death and chronic suffering for the survivors. I wonder how similar HIV is to the curse of kula-nasha (destruction of the clan) that I have heard in stories from the Puranas. One man goes out seeking sexual pleasure from a prostitute and he introduces the virus into his pretty wife, who then, sends it to her child while it is still unborn, and then, there is an entire family that is accelerated towards death. I have no answers as to what sins these children have done so as to be deprived of their precious years of life and the right to live longer. Each one of them saves a smile. They are not yet robbed of their happiness. Curiosity-fueled and innocence-driven, God alone knows why they had to accept all of this as their fate. Their fathers, if at all alive, are a human manifestation of guilt. They have to push it harder each passing day, just to assure that his ill son or daughter will not sleep the night in hunger. Can you imagine living a life where you wake up every morning with a disease that has no known cure? Can you imagine living a life with a pre-dated death certificate? Can you imagine living a life where you look at the faces of your father or mother in the dread that he or she will inevitably leave you while you are still young? Can you imagine living with the fear of death? Meet Arun, Priyanka and 25 other children at Chinnara Loka.
I narrate here few unforgettable experiences I had a the camp, largely in the role of an interested observer, soaked in sympathy, than as a doctor.
Arun - The Royal Challenger
Arun comes from a remote village in Shivamogga. But, he says he holds the remote while the Indian Premier League (IPL) game is on the television. I was a mute spectator to his conversation with cricket-frenzy Rahul, who does not have a television at his home. Arun tells him about the match when they meet next day. "Chennai made 191. They batted and bowled well. Punjab lost it again. I think they won't reach any further this time. But I'm sure, Bangalore will defeat Chennai!" An engrossed Rahul must have had a jamais vu listening to his emotional match report.
Fun: 99%
Sorrow: 0%
Priyanka, the actress who cried in real life
Priyanka's memory would stay like a stone inscription in my mind. She is a 12-year old from a far-flung village. She said she aspires to become an actress. She had beautifully wide eyes, elegantly broad forehead and perfect lips. She walked into the consultation tent, complaining of body ache and heart burn. I observed that her face wore gloom and she spoke less. Thoughts of asking her whether she is on anti-retroviral therapy (the best available medication for HIV infection) collided on my mental highway, as the drugs are notorious for abdominal side-effects. I was not prepared to face it if the consequence of that question was a weep. I looked at her withered face, and, surprising myself, I asked it. What followed next was miserable. For the first time in my life, I watched tears filling up inside someone's eyes and later overflowing. I sat there feeling like a remorseful monster. I knew I was the cause of her tears. She cried inconsolably in silence. I held her arm and asked her to brave up. She looked down while her fingers wiped the tears away. I felt that any act of reconciliation now could worsen the situation. I gave her prescription to the teacher and she walked her to the place where life-skills games were going on. I felt that not uttering a word was the best I could do, as she could forget her pain at the games. I kept an eye on her from the place where I was seated, and I found that she was not as happy as others at the camp. She knew her disease.
Fun: 0%
Sorrow: 90%
Then there was the cute and bubbly 8 year old girl, Arabiya and the 10 year old geek, Arvind.
I found that these children have forgotten that they are diseased. They have sought refuge in the fantastic enclave called childhood, where they live each moment to its fullest. They have the sparks of curiosity in their minds and adventure in their eyes. When mind overpowers the body, no disease can ever cause pain.
Hey kid, dancing in the rain,
Show me how to forget pain
I have money, water and grain
I search for happiness, but in vain
Hey kid, laughing your heart out,
You are the answer to my doubt;
I have people I call friends
But, nobody smiles, only shout.
Hey kid, playing all day long
My innocence is a long way gone;
I have taken all turns wrong,
Take me now to where I belong.
Hey kid, sniffing at the marigold,
I never wanted to grow so old;
Seasons change, heat to cold,
Everything yellow is not gold.
Hey kid, singing all you think,
Show me my lost childhood link.
I wrote my life unerased in ink.
I stand here at self-extinction's brink.
Hey kid, life is tougher than your game.
You think you've won, but, it stays the same,
The harder I worked, farther moved my aim;
All that ever mattered was a good name and fame.
Having spent time with all those kids at Chinnara Loka, I felt that their happiness extended till the limits of their awareness about their disease. But, clearly, they were pushing all limits. They were having so much of enchanted fun that, apparently, they never feared the disease - the disease, lurking in the dark, was afraid of them. And why won't it be? They are the children of God.
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