Waseem

We are aware of them, the ones sitting on the railway platforms, sleeping on footpaths, under the park benches, huddled in the corners of the street talking to shadows, yet it is seldom that we notice them, for us they are all the same, just a set of unruly clothes, sunken faces dirty with gloom and despair, we barely consider them as humans, they are just a spot of dirt on the glorious face of this glistening city. We just pass by them without looking at them, without even accepting their existence, afraid…..afraid perhaps of their poverty, perhaps of their …… god knows what…. it’s just that we seem afraid to look up at them and meet their stares or at least just accept their existence.

“Waseem” as he says his name is, is one such youth of the many that dwell on the streets of this city. Sometimes a coolie who stows luggage, sometimes the man who carries dead bodies to the hospital, sometimes a waiter,  at times of dire need a rag picker, thus like all the other street youths Waseem  changes his profession according to the market demands . Take a good look at him, his thin lanky frame covered with what you might call as rags, sunken face garnished with thin moustache and a beard which sticks out from all possible angles (surely there is nothing great or striking in this man to make him important to us). You ask him about his parents, he smiles and with a slight shake of his head he utters, “yaad nahi” (doesn’t remember them), ask him about his age, he thinks for a moment and assumes it to be something in between 20-25, the only thing he remembers is that he used to live in Hyderabad from where he ran away to come to stay in Mumbai.  When asked about the reasons as of why he ran away; you just get a smile in reply. As per what he says it has been 15 years since he has made the footpaths of Azad Maidan his abode.

Waseem has witnessed the change in Azad Maidan; from being a place when anyone astray entered the street of Azad Maidan in the wee hours of night was robbed, injured or even raped to a place which in comparison to the older times is a safer haven for homeless people. According to Waseem things have improved a lot these days for which he credits Saathi (NGO for street youths). In fact today Waseem himself is a part and a contributor to this change, working under the Beghar Yuva Pahalan initiated by Saathi which aims at injecting hope and self-empowerment amongst the distressed road side youths.

The incident

 Santosh Yadav an 18 year old resident of thane wakes up at Byculla Station (near Mumbai) on a normal Saturday, which by no means was normal for him as he recalls the incident. Santosh says that he was made unconscious by some stranger who had offered him something to eat, and when he woke up, he found himself at the Byculla station, being new to the place and not having any idea how to get back to his house Santosh somehow lands himself up at Azad Maidan which as mentioned before has an infamous history. Cold and tired Santosh decides to sleep; it was when he tried to settle himself down in a corner he hears a man’s gruff voice asking him from the darkness, “idhar naya hai kya?” (Are you new here?). Santosh turns around intending to look at the source of the voice and sees a rough, scarred face of Waseem looming in the dim light of a match stick lighted by him while putting forth the question. An afraid, hungry and cold Santosh mumbles in a weak voice, “mujhe ghar jana hai” (I want to go home) upon which Waseem smiles and starts off with an informal conversation just to put Santosh at ease. Perhaps it was the situation that acted out as the cementing factor for their instant friendship, it was not long before Santosh started spilling out his mind, speaking about how he reached there and where his house was and all such details. Early next morning Waseem wakes Santosh up, buys him a cup of tea and something to eat and purchasing the train tickets they board a train and start out for santosh’s home. The relief that Santosh’s distressed parents experienced when they saw him return unharmed and safe was beyond the realm of words, “tum ne bhagwan ban kar humare bacche ko baccha liya” (you came like a God and rescued our child) is what Santosh’s parents had to say about Waseem and when they offered him a reward of Rs.1000 for saving Santosh’s life, he was reluctant to accept it.

 Santosh and Waseem they both have returned to their daily lives, Santosh is happy with his family and Waseem is back to his abode, the footpaths of Azad Maidan. What Waseem did was something very uncommon, he was not bound by any social obligations, he could have easily ignored or could even have taken advantage of the helplessness of Santosh, but he made a choice, a choice to help which we people usually in our daily scheduled, busy life forget. Waseem also stood up as an example that to help someone, to be kind to someone you don’t need to be educated, you need not have a good family and social upbringing, you don’t necessarily have to be an idealistic person , all you need is to have a heart to help others and a bit of humanity left in you.

Today with the support of Saathi, Waseem is working as a catalyst imparting and imbibing change and awareness to a group of socially oppressed and ignored youths, demonstrating the importance of the education called as “life”.

* A sincere thanks to Winnie Thomas and Arif Kapadia for sharing this incident and allowing me to reproduce it.