The children of a street god

"Have you seen Hancock?" Asks an excited Ravi. "You haven't seen Jane tu yet?" Quips a surprised Parvez. These questions come from street children, whose carefree demeanour belies the struggle these children face.

As the Rajdhani arrives at Mumbai Central terminus, hordes of them - some in tattered clothes, some barefoot - rush towards the train, touching it in reverence. Surprising as this gesture was, 17-year-old Raju, explains, "Rajdhani brings us our morning breakfast, the August Kranti our lunch and the Shatabdi our dinner." The Terminus Hall houses about 30 kids who get three meals a day, thanks to these trains.

Even before the train comes to a halt, what one sees is a mad scramble of young lads, as they leap into the compartments, dodging passengers to collect leftover food. It's with a sense of achievement that they emerge victoriously with packets of half eaten kurkure, dahi cups, mineral water, omelettes, Appy Fizz etc.

These kids who many Mumbaikars shun, or simply take for granted as being part of the urbanscape, earn about Rs50 to 60 a day. Some sell newspapers, some pick up plastic litter to sell to the local bangarwalla, others make their money carrying luggage and doing odd jobs.

Newspaper-vending, the most predominant occupation, also helps the ones who can read, know about the happenings in the city. It also gives the kids information about the latest film releases. So it's no surprise to hear the titles Hancock and Jane Tu being mentioned. The kids catch up on the films at their favourite cinemas, namely Maratha Mandir and Gaiety.

Coming from diverse parts of the country - Bihar, Delhi, Uttar Pradesh, and the interior of Maharashtra - these kids live life on their own terms; enjoying their life away from home as much as they can.

Flintoff, an 18-year-old boy from Madgaon came to Mumbai at the age of nine to become a film hero. But now, he says philosophically, "Everyone comes here to become a hero but ends up being a villain." He ran away from home to escape a drunkard for a father, and has since been living on the streets of Mumbai. He has no wish to return home. According to him: "We get food, a place to sleep, some money, and most important of all unrestricted freedom. What more do we want?"

But his words contradict his wish that 11-year-old Irfan, who joined his group recently, be taken away in order to lead a better life. Unaware of the harsh realities of street life, Irfan ran away from his home in Umarkhand to educate himself in Mumbai.

Though the kids paint a rosy picture of life, they are also aware of its grim realities. Apart from sustaining themselves, what they fear most is the beatings met out by the police. Entering the trains to procure meals, sleeping on platforms by night invite police lathis.

But it is drug-addiction that is the biggest cause for concern, when it comes to street children, according to the city's NGOs.

Although a number of NGOs work with street children at various levels and for a number of reasons, the kids claim that most of the interaction is superficial at best, and fail to cater to their "real needs".

"Most organisations provide us with day care facilities, but what we really need is a night shelter," says Parvez.

The kids also realise that without steady jobs in the future, life is bound top get tougher. "We will have to find jobs for ourselves. We can't be living on the streets all our lives," says Feroz.

During this interview, two of the children were getting ready to set out for their new job as 'raasta reporters' for Radio Mirchi. Exited, they did not want to be late for their first day at work. Wasim, 18, who left his home in Hyderabad to escape the drudgery of studying, looks at his companions getting ready for work and says, "If I had studied I could have also applied for the job."  Regretting his lack of education, he feels that the new batch of children should educate themselves to secure a future.

All our lives are changing as the world moves into 2.0 mode, and so are those of Mumbai's street children. Beneath their defiant facades and Bollywood-obsessed glimmer in their eyes lie a generation of lost pragmatists, who are beginning to understand that even the life of a railway child must end at some point. And when it ends, only an education and a drive to be successful will see them through.

s_surekha@dnaindia.net; a_humaira@dnaindia.net