A Happy New Year? Or just another day in the life of the far-less fortunate?

New Year’s Eve Day and Night in Mumbai were marked by some stark contrasts for me. 

I finally made it to the tomb of the Muslim saint Haji Ali.  A long causeway links the island mosque to the mainland. Closing time is dictated by the tide.  Once it’s in, you’re out – or out of luck – as this causeway is the only means of egress and the rising Arabian Sea reportedly covers the causeway making it impossible for visitors to return to the mainland.  The only person with “accommodations” is the late saint enshrined there.  The faithful present as homage to the holy man brightly colored and glittery shrouds decorated with images of Mecca.

It was the processional to Haji Ali’s shrine which had one of the strongest visual and emotional impacts on me throughout my visit.  Littering both sides of the causeway  – and littering is the most appropriate description with no disrespect intended – are live “human remains”.  It is here that I saw the most suffering in India, the physically maimed and India’s “differently abled”, a term that I think should enter the American English language lexicon.  “Differently Abled” is a sign that you see on Delhi’s super-modern metro system above seats closest to its cabin doors, imploring passengers to allot these seats for people who have either temporary “disabilities” (a spot-on icon shows a pregnant woman holding the hand of a young child – both temporary disabilities) or permanent conditions that we here in the United State have alternatingly referred to as “handicapped” or “disabled”.

What I like about the tag “differently abled” is that it accentuates the positive and reminds the rest of us “normal” ones that people missing an arm, a leg, some or all of the above compensate by finding other means for getting by.  Just as a blind or deaf person will oftentimes strengthen other senses to counterweigh weaker or lost ones, the differently abled will oftentimes find a deeper inner strength to survive situations beyond their control that may be hard to fathom by we “normal” ones who, each morning get out of bed, put two feet on the ground, brush our teeth with our right hand if we are righties or left hand if we are lefties, and start our daily routine.  As an experiment, try switching hands the next time you brush your teeth and you’ll see how hard this is to do while getting a more tactile sense of being “differently abled”.

Of course I took no pictures of these poor souls but I will probably always have memories of the man whose twisted body made him appear to be a contortionist, an elderly gentleman whose face and ankle were severely scarred, possibly by leprosy or maybe by deliberate applications of acid to make him a more sympathetic-appearing beggar, countless amputees, the emaciated, and small children left to their own devices.  Regarding the latter, every once and a while you’ll hear a news story about a parent in the United States who has left their child in the car seat of their running SUV, or in a stroller parked outside a local shop, as they pop in for a fast transaction, only to be reported to a child welfare agency or to be ticketed by a cop for “neglect”.

Now imagine leaving children alone to beg. One beautiful little child whose picture I wish I could have taken had this round, full cupid face. It was all that you could see as she was wrapped in a baby burka. The black cloth that enshrouded the sitting child reminded me of a black matte board used to set-off a beautiful piece of art.  This little girl (I assume) was but a toddler. She did not know how to beg, or talk for that matter. She just sat there. Alone and unattended.  Somewhere else this child might have been scooped up by a desperate person unable to have a child of her or his own.  And, in fact, that might very well be how this child ended up on the causeway surrounded by beggars and garbage.

In sharing this visual experience with newly-made friends in India, I learned about the “India Mafia”.  According to multiple sources, the people seen begging Haji Ali and other primarily tourist attractions are often the helpless victims of India’s underground economy.  They are a form of human trafficking.  Furthermore, they were likely kidnapped and purposely maimed to generate greater sympathy and generosity from Westerners, in particular.  They are trained to approach certain types of people (like white American males, as I can attest to) and if they don’t reach their begging quota for the day they can be subjected to even more harsh treatment.  If you want to learn more (and help), here’s a link to an Australian based NGO that provides a primer on the situation:  http://www.dalitfreedom.org.au/trafficking/child-beggars.html

I followed this emotionally and visually jarring tourist attraction with a visit to the Gandhi Museum.  This is a townhouse tucked into Mumbai’s upscale art district.  It’s where the leader of the Indian Independence Movement in the late 194s used to stay while visiting the city and it includes items of his sparse wardrobe as well as his beloved spinning wheels, symbols of economic freedom according to Gandhi’s perspective.  I wrapped up 2013 far above the multiple and pricey New Year’s Eve parties being held in the courtyard of my luxury hotel.  The roar of the crowd let me know it was midnight.  I gazed out the windows of my 18th floor suite and witnessed bursts of multi-colored sparkling fireworks throughout the city.

Is there any hope for a happy New Year for India's masses of "differently abled"?