Nursing attendants work for salaries ranging from Rs 6000 to 8000 in the hospital where I work - and are mostly from the fishing community of our coastal areas such as Poovar, Poonthura and Valiaythura. I have had the opportunity to hear first hand from some of these girls aged between 18 and 24 the devastation caused to their lives mainly by the alcohol addiction of their male family members - mostly their fathers.
The life of S is a good example. She is only 20 and despite her difficult circumstances, retains a sense of humour and speaks with a maturity far beyond what could be normally expected for her age. Her father is alcoholic - a fisherman - but has no work now and earns nothing. Her mother is ill, has painful feet, but somehow still manages to walk several kilometers a day selling fish to feed her family that consists of her husband and two daughters - of which S is the younger one while her sister is 24 and who she and her mother are hoping to get married soon. The alcoholic father has a tendency to turn violent when he drinks and beats up his wife and even his daughters for no obvious reason - S, however insists he is 'very loving' when he doesn't drink.
They live in a small house roofed with sheets that has three small rooms and a kitchen - in the seaside colony about 30 km away from Trivandrum.
The mother earns about Rs 200 on 'good' days and nothing on some days buying fish from the beach market and selling it to houses within a radius of a few kilometers around their house. Almost all of what S earns (about Rs 5000 = her salary of Rs 7000 minus the Rs 2000 that she has to spend for bus fare) goes as investment in a chit fund that is expected to return Rs 1 lac by August - this being their only investment for her sister's marriage. The money they can spare for daily expenses is not enough and on many days they are forced to skip a meal or two.
S feels that but for the alcohol, they would have been a happy family as her father is not a bad guy and he does love them. But now there is no hope he will get out of this - they have tried everything including several rounds of counselling by the parish priest and his own elder brother. Now, the main problem that looms over S is her sister's imminent marriage - they have already found a nice young man who doesn't drink or smoke and is a responsible fisherman from a good family. The marriage is being planned for this August. In addition to the one lac from her chit fund investment she has to generate Rs 5 lacs for this - 2 lacs as dowry, 2 lacs for gold and 2 lacs for the conduct of the ceremony and other expenses. The whole responsibility for this is on the young shoulders of S. She has made many inquiries about loans from banks - but they insist on pledging a property document which the family does not have. The only remaining option is to borrow money from local money lenders - but they charge very high interests - and she would need to pay back Rs 2000 per lac - amounting to a total of Rs 10000 a month for the 5 lacs she needs.
I promised to get her mother's illness investigated and treated on my expense, but the mother did not agree - apparently because she doesn't trust private hospitals or doctors - who she believes will charge her amounts that she cannot afford in the end despite promising economic treatment initially. She prefers to go only to the local government health centre.
Despite these difficulties, S appears in good spirits and shows signs of sadness only fleetingly when she related these problems to me - otherwise she shows the energy and zest including a fun-loving nature that one may expect in a girl of her age born into more fortunate circumstances. S never volunteered to discuss her story, and related it to me only after several months of acquaintance and on my making the initiative to ask her about it.
More than statistics, cases like this convey the real story of the problem of alcohol in many families.
I had sent this account to Prasad Somarajan, in charge of the District Committee of AAP - who responded very promptly to offer support of local AAP volunteers and to inform the local leaders - Desmond and Manoj.
I thought that this was a case that AAP can focus to work on this issue - as a real story like this may communicate human problems better than stating numbers.
I visited her house today morning at 10 am accompanied by Desmond, his wife Sheela, Manoj, Pratheesh and my daughter Kalyani (who is also a doctor) It was a heartwarming experience. They welcomed us with laddus, cakes and soft drinks. We were very moved by their simplicity and candour. We talked to the father and he too seemed to respond positively to our genuineness. He promised not to drink and even said that he will be happy to support any protest that we organize at the nearest bar - he said it is the availability of liquor that was the problem as he did not have the will to resist the temptation. Later the girls took my daughter to the beach a few hundred feet away and they had some fun together. On the way to the beach we saw groups of youngsters - teenagers in fact - playing cards and presumably having drinks too (according to the women).
We did not, of course, expect to turn the father into a teetotaler by our visit. The good thing was the endearing rapport and trust that we could establish with the family and the neighbours. It was spiritually uplifting for us and increased our resolve to fight for these genuine aam aadmis. This fight is not to win any election. Winning elections seems so silly an objective when you have direct experience of the sorrow of these people - and there are millions of cases like this.
Candidates like Ajit Joy have opened our eyes to the real vocation of a politician - which is to be steadfast in work even after the elections are over, keenly on the look out for the sources of suffering among common people and persevere relentlessly to ensure them the basics - good food, proper houses to live in, good health and education. This is all a politician needs to do.
This is only a beginning. It's early days and the aam aadmi has only just woken up.
The life of S is a good example. She is only 20 and despite her difficult circumstances, retains a sense of humour and speaks with a maturity far beyond what could be normally expected for her age. Her father is alcoholic - a fisherman - but has no work now and earns nothing. Her mother is ill, has painful feet, but somehow still manages to walk several kilometers a day selling fish to feed her family that consists of her husband and two daughters - of which S is the younger one while her sister is 24 and who she and her mother are hoping to get married soon. The alcoholic father has a tendency to turn violent when he drinks and beats up his wife and even his daughters for no obvious reason - S, however insists he is 'very loving' when he doesn't drink.
They live in a small house roofed with sheets that has three small rooms and a kitchen - in the seaside colony about 30 km away from Trivandrum.
The mother earns about Rs 200 on 'good' days and nothing on some days buying fish from the beach market and selling it to houses within a radius of a few kilometers around their house. Almost all of what S earns (about Rs 5000 = her salary of Rs 7000 minus the Rs 2000 that she has to spend for bus fare) goes as investment in a chit fund that is expected to return Rs 1 lac by August - this being their only investment for her sister's marriage. The money they can spare for daily expenses is not enough and on many days they are forced to skip a meal or two.
S feels that but for the alcohol, they would have been a happy family as her father is not a bad guy and he does love them. But now there is no hope he will get out of this - they have tried everything including several rounds of counselling by the parish priest and his own elder brother. Now, the main problem that looms over S is her sister's imminent marriage - they have already found a nice young man who doesn't drink or smoke and is a responsible fisherman from a good family. The marriage is being planned for this August. In addition to the one lac from her chit fund investment she has to generate Rs 5 lacs for this - 2 lacs as dowry, 2 lacs for gold and 2 lacs for the conduct of the ceremony and other expenses. The whole responsibility for this is on the young shoulders of S. She has made many inquiries about loans from banks - but they insist on pledging a property document which the family does not have. The only remaining option is to borrow money from local money lenders - but they charge very high interests - and she would need to pay back Rs 2000 per lac - amounting to a total of Rs 10000 a month for the 5 lacs she needs.
I promised to get her mother's illness investigated and treated on my expense, but the mother did not agree - apparently because she doesn't trust private hospitals or doctors - who she believes will charge her amounts that she cannot afford in the end despite promising economic treatment initially. She prefers to go only to the local government health centre.
Despite these difficulties, S appears in good spirits and shows signs of sadness only fleetingly when she related these problems to me - otherwise she shows the energy and zest including a fun-loving nature that one may expect in a girl of her age born into more fortunate circumstances. S never volunteered to discuss her story, and related it to me only after several months of acquaintance and on my making the initiative to ask her about it.
More than statistics, cases like this convey the real story of the problem of alcohol in many families.
I had sent this account to Prasad Somarajan, in charge of the District Committee of AAP - who responded very promptly to offer support of local AAP volunteers and to inform the local leaders - Desmond and Manoj.
I thought that this was a case that AAP can focus to work on this issue - as a real story like this may communicate human problems better than stating numbers.
I visited her house today morning at 10 am accompanied by Desmond, his wife Sheela, Manoj, Pratheesh and my daughter Kalyani (who is also a doctor) It was a heartwarming experience. They welcomed us with laddus, cakes and soft drinks. We were very moved by their simplicity and candour. We talked to the father and he too seemed to respond positively to our genuineness. He promised not to drink and even said that he will be happy to support any protest that we organize at the nearest bar - he said it is the availability of liquor that was the problem as he did not have the will to resist the temptation. Later the girls took my daughter to the beach a few hundred feet away and they had some fun together. On the way to the beach we saw groups of youngsters - teenagers in fact - playing cards and presumably having drinks too (according to the women).
We did not, of course, expect to turn the father into a teetotaler by our visit. The good thing was the endearing rapport and trust that we could establish with the family and the neighbours. It was spiritually uplifting for us and increased our resolve to fight for these genuine aam aadmis. This fight is not to win any election. Winning elections seems so silly an objective when you have direct experience of the sorrow of these people - and there are millions of cases like this.
Candidates like Ajit Joy have opened our eyes to the real vocation of a politician - which is to be steadfast in work even after the elections are over, keenly on the look out for the sources of suffering among common people and persevere relentlessly to ensure them the basics - good food, proper houses to live in, good health and education. This is all a politician needs to do.
This is only a beginning. It's early days and the aam aadmi has only just woken up.
