As I entered the room, bunch of shrill voices greeted me. Though none of them addressed me directly, but some how it was soothing to be among kids..
Today I went to a school for slum kids.
Some where inside I knew, its not going to be smooth, to teach kids who can't understand even 1 word that I say, & for whom I'm also no better than a (nursery) student when it comes to their language -Kannada..
Apprehensively, I entered, bunch of volunteers were already there, sitting among the kids , in small groups. Not sure what should I do, I stood near the door, leaning slightly on the rough wall, just then a boy of 6-7 years called me to help him with the drawing of the tortoise. He asked me someth, that I couldn't understand, and to divert him I asked someth which he couldn't get. We both were there, desperate to communicate but paralysed by words..
Just next to him a girl was painting, Lakshmi, she had a long pony tail, and was preety. Another small boy of 3-4 years was standing next to her looking intently, what his sister was doing. She asked to show how to fill colors. I did few strokes, to show,but as I tried to delegate the task back to her, she insisted that I should only finish it.. To be frank , I felt obliged and whole time , she was watching intently..
All of a sudden, her brother (the small boy)started to cry. She rushed to him, said sth, and gave him few motherly pats,& he was silent!!
Still I felt, his big eyes filled with tears,were trying to communicate someth. I offered to carry him outside, but as soon as I came forward, he cried again. I backed.. the way he was looking at me, it seemed, he knew, that the things are not fair... That I had a comfortable childhood,& thats why he didnt want to come to me..
Unable to take his cold stare any longer, slowly I came out of the room.
