Platform for literacy, as rail stations double as schools

Platform for literacy, as rail stations double as schools
MANJU MEHTA

FEBRUARY 27: The 1.09 Churchgate slow harbour line local from Andheri station, platform number 7, is the school bell which rings in a change in schedule for Kirti, Durga, Sharda, Chavan and a dozen others.

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About thirty children, some with harmoniums slung on their shoulders, others with shoe-stands, brush-polish cans, paper trays with hairpins, jump across the tracks and rush to their `school.' Their shantiniketan -- a concrete bench installed on platform 6 of Andheri station, with the platform for sitting and indicator to maintain timings.

VOICE (Voluntary Organisation in Community Enterprise) which is behind this unique effort now has about 300 working children `studying' in their schools which are also held at Dadar station and Bandra station apart from other public gardens and places. The exercise has been on since the past few years and the response is slowly growing.``These children are keen to learn.'' Some even come with dreams of ``working in an office some day.''

For now though there are no uniforms and no heavy school bags for these shoulders. Carrying the burden of a maimed childhood -- with a burnt arm here or a scarred face there, the children gather near the bench and find books and slates thrusted in their hands, for a change.

The group of tanned faces and sun-bleached hair nod in unison when didi asks whether lessons can start for the day. With chalks and pencils they get down to the serious business of learning to write. The class is a heterogenous mix - there are girls who concentrate with a studied determination writ large on their face. Then there are those who prefer to climb all over the platform pillars and perch themselves percariously at a height before getting down to the A, B, C, of things. There is also this group of shoe-shine boys who first finish their game of `paisa' (gambling) before opening the books.

But they are all there nevertheless. Anytime between 1pm to 5pm on working days, spending an hour to learn the alphabets (in English and Hindi) so that at least their names do not seem strange to them. There is 11-year old Kirti Katar who missed three days of school because her mother gave her a good thrashing for attending these classes. Living below the Andheri bridge and with four siblings to look after, Kirti has a busy work schedule ---cooking dal-chawal, cleaning, washing while her mother earns a living. But despite all odds she makes it to her school even though she is too scared to speak much.

Seven-year old Sharda who plays a harmonium wants to know if we are police informers. She shuttles between Khar station and Andheri station and her latest musical number is - Tum dil ki dhadkan mein rahte hoon...

``No I don't go to school. But I come here. My parents don't know this. They will scold me if they come to know that I am wasting time here,'' she says. ``The crowds are not good in the afternoons so I do the studying at this time,'' she reasons.

This is a school with no attendence records either. Meenu Bansiwar, their didi who teaches them, informs us that absenteeism is regular. Some times the reason is ghar tod diya or it is maa aspatal mein hain, bahut mara or usually police ne bhaga diya station se. But they are always back in a few days.

As the 1.58pm local approaches the station, the shoe-shine boys rush off with their wares. No longer classmates, they are competitors now. The hustle-bustle continues for ten minutes until the train departs. The group reassembles again near the bench to trade shoe-polish brushes for pencils.