Up until now I have talked about the many wonders of this country. I do however want people to know the reality and truth of it too. I am guessing that many of you have seen the infamous Slumdog Millionaire, the movie that gripped the world and gave a bald-faced interpretation of the day-today lives of many millions of Indian people living in shanty towns and in very poor sanitation.
Some of the residents in India put up with their deprived housing and living situation.
After all they’re not as lucky as us to have government funding and benefits to help them support their families. This causes many to beg on the streets or spend their day searching through junk and waste for valuable material such as metal, to sell in exchange for food or money. I personally think this is very unfair. To this day I am still extremely shocked and over-whelmed with sadness when I think about my very first encounters with the ‘back streets’ of India.
For any traveller who goes to India there is bound to be a high level of culture shock that will set in immediately after leaving the airport. My very first memory of India is seeing a row of houses (if that is even what they can be called), about a half a mile long. They looked more like a group of small shacks made out of tin, cardboard, large leaves and waste material put together posing as houses. I was disgusted and upset by this image that still stirs clear as daylight in my mind. I saw small children, barefooted traipsing around in dirt and rubbish. I saw old men and women taking shelter under a piece of cardboard from the heavy showers of the monsoon, and mothers bathing their children in the streets from rainwater. This gloomy life is visible on literally every back street of India.
But, despite the bleak conditions, these people have a real-sense of community, love and unity that flows through the narrow streets of the shanty towns and poorer parts of small villages. I saw this during my previous visit to India in July 2009, when I spent every other evening roaming the back streets of the village of Ankleshwar, Gujarat. During this time the Hindu Festival Dussehra (also known as Vijayadashmi – ‘Vijay’ meaning ‘victory’ and ‘Dashmi meaning ‘tenth day) was being celebrated by hundreds of Hindu people in the streets of their minuscule homes.
Every night for nine straight days herds of people would gather outside their homes and do the dance of Garba for Navratri as a means of worshiping Shakti, which is the Hindu concept of female divinity. The dancing is in concentric circles around a central figure of worship, it starts off slow and then gradually speeds up as the tempo of the music increases. The back streets were filled with colour, dance and music that was either sung by the celebrator’s or blasted out through a donated stereo system especially for the Dussehra festival period.
I spoke to a few women who were celebrating this festival and found that some had no more than two-three pairs of clothes, had only eaten one meal that day, had no access to clean water and did not know what the following day had in store for them and their family. In spite of their hardships it was more important for them to participate fully and properly in this religious festival that held a deep meaning and signified the triumph of good over evil. I was greatly humbled by what I saw, and began to understand that above all else religion and faith was crucial to the underprivileged communities, and it was their belief in something greater than wealth that encouraged them to continue living the way that they do.
I soon realised that the majority of the ‘back street’ vicinities in India are full of people who are still grateful for what they have even though it is very insufficient. This is because they have lived and know only this way of life, they have never experienced or been given the chance to see more. Sadly, for many, this is the path they expect to continue living on for the rest of their lives.