She is the elder daughter of a poverty-stricken four member family of Sivakasi, a matchstick making village in Tamil Nadu. Inability of her factory working father and domestic help mother to make both ends meet, naturally pushed the seven year old into work. But Zareena wasn’t alone. All children of her village were employed at the matchstick factory. The day started at 4.30 AM when a bus from the factory arrived to pick up the children and take them to the factory. Here Zareena began work by placing frames for the matchsticks into racks. Following a breakfast of fermented rice and pickle, she filled boxes, labeled them and helped packing them. After a few days at the factory, little Zareena was engaged in mixing chemicals in the factory’s boiler room. The first signs of the seven year old’s health breaking down became evident. She often came home with scalded fingers and hands. Sitting for long hours in that cramped position left her shoulders. Because of incessant inhaling of hot and toxic chemicals, the girl developed respiration trouble. After almost 12 hours at work, Zareena returned home with the rest. Here too the same meagre meal welcomed her home. She had no books, colours, pictures, toys. A little sleep was all she asked for....the balm to heal her wounds and prepare her for the hard day to follow. But even that was interrupted by the screams and squeals of her mother, being bashed by his drunk father, just home from work. Tears rolled down the little girl’s eyes, wetting the pillow beneath her head.
Zareena wanted to study. Whenever she accompanied her ammi to the household where she worked, which wasn’t too often, she was awestruck. There was a complete children’s room, where the kids spoke in a language strangely foreign to her. They laughed at her when she couldn’t respond to their questions, mocked at her for not going to school……..more tears..who would listen to Zareena’s story? Ammi? She had her own tragedies to deal with…..Abba? He pulled at her plaits and beat her when anyone from the factory complained that she had dozed off for a few minutes during work.
It sunk into her system…..her life just went on and on……matchsticks, frames, fermented rice and pickle, labels, chemicals, heat, stains, burns…
Then ARUNODHAYA happened to her. True to its name, it brought into Zareena’s life, the rays of the sun. like her, many others from the village were given a new lease of life.
Education opened her eyes, and she convinced her parents that she positively wanted to attend school. Arunodhaya made sure that Zareena and the rest would not have to go back to the factory.
12 year old Zareena is the “student leader” of her class. English is her favourite subject. Clad in an old cheap salwaar kameez, she talks in a determined voice. Zareena aspires to be a doctor. She tries her best to cut down on abba’s drinking, and believes she’s doing good at it.
Zareena is one of god’s chosen children…..the right thing happened and the story of her life turned completely. But what about the rest like her? What about the lanky boy who works dangerously in the mechanic shop? What about the 6 year old, who has left her village, to come take care of your 6 month old? Will the innocent girl who works in the heat and chemicals of the glass bangle factory, ever be fortunate to adorn her wrists with beautiful bangles….
2 comments:
a good heart warming piece !
your prose writing is better than quite many!
in a blog, where the space is short, it's tough to write a full, complete story which seems to be compact in its own right...
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