Nani121
Banned
Shocking statistics reveal that as many as 10 million girls in India have been killed by their parents either before or immediately after birth, over the past 20 years.
Many parents crave a boy to become an heir in the family. Others want to avoid the prospect of hefty dowries.
In an attempt to wipe out the practice of female foeticide and female infanticide, Renuka Chowdhury, the Minister for Women and Child Development, has introduced a 'Cradles Plan' for unwanted girls.
"We will have cradles strategically placed all over the place so that people who don't want their babies can leave them there. They will be collected and put into homes. There are plenty of existing homes and we will be adding some more also."
Many of these homes come under the auspice of Mother Teresa of Calcutta and her Missionaries of Charity and in the southernmost state of Kerala.
Quietly situated on a suburban side street of the capital of Trivandrum is Nirmala Shisu Bhavan Orphanage.
It is home to 60 children who are diligently cared for by eight devoted sisters and 15 dedicated helpers. In a large airy room with rows of cots, perhaps 30 in all, that are occupied by cradle babies that lie static as dolls.
Most are girls and are characterised by shocks of jet black hair that quite belie their newness to this world.
There is an uncanny air of silence to a room within which one would expect to hear a baby's cry.
Through another door, the silence is of a more disconcerting nature, as it is one that is determined not by slumber but by suffering.
For here in larger cots, lie the distorted bodies of older children, abandoned as a result of their profound mental and physical disabilities.
There are boys as well as girls at the Sri Chitra Home for Destitutes and Infirm, founded in 1934 by the Maharaja of Travancore.
There were then just nine residents, the numbers having increased at one time to 500, although at present there are just 300 orphans, 231 of which are girls.
It is lunch time, and the meal is to be a treat of fish curry which has been provided by a local wealthy businessman.
I am captivated by a young girl in a yellow dress, likely the youngest there. She is called Sreekutty and she bears the most striking of smiles.
I learn that she is one of the lucky ones, for she still has her mother, with whom she maintains contact, albeit that she can no longer look after her.
She is five years of age and was taken to the orphanage six months ago after her mother had twice failed suicide, as a result of Sreekutty's father having left her with three young children, of which Sreekutty is the eldest. She may one day return home.
For those that will neither be adopted nor have the chance to return home, there is still the opportunity for rehabilitation in the form of marriage.
To date, 70 marriages have taken place at the home, with suitable partners having been found by the authorities. Failing either education or marriage as being the bearers of a better life, there are some who are sadly destined to be in care forever.
At a stone convent a short distance away there is a home of 70 abandoned women. I am led in from the twilight of day to the dusk of a dormitory that is cast with shadows of movement, as those women who are able, shuffle slowly to collect their meal.
Others simply sit and stare, the traumas they have suffered, having severed their speech. Most have been abandoned by their families and picked up from the streets.
The suicide rate among women in Kerala is reported to be twice the national average. Mariamma, I am told, first came to the convent 30 years ago.
Then a young girl from a very poor farming family, she came to help in the kitchen and has remained here ever since. It is chilling yet warming to watch her as she tenderly feeds with her fingers, grains of sustenance to the motionless mouth of a woman who is dying.
Next to her lies a leper, being warmly cared for by another devoted helper who will tend her to her death and allow her in the words of Mother Teresa "a beautiful death" which "is for people who lived like animals to die like angels - loved and wanted".
For me there is release from this darkness within which I have ended my day, whilst for those I leave behind, there is little chance of liberation other than in the form of reincarnation, and with that, the hope of a more just and merciful life.
Source: Sky News
Links: http://news.sky.com/skynews/article/0,,30200-1315766,00.html
Many parents crave a boy to become an heir in the family. Others want to avoid the prospect of hefty dowries.
In an attempt to wipe out the practice of female foeticide and female infanticide, Renuka Chowdhury, the Minister for Women and Child Development, has introduced a 'Cradles Plan' for unwanted girls.
"We will have cradles strategically placed all over the place so that people who don't want their babies can leave them there. They will be collected and put into homes. There are plenty of existing homes and we will be adding some more also."
Many of these homes come under the auspice of Mother Teresa of Calcutta and her Missionaries of Charity and in the southernmost state of Kerala.
Quietly situated on a suburban side street of the capital of Trivandrum is Nirmala Shisu Bhavan Orphanage.
It is home to 60 children who are diligently cared for by eight devoted sisters and 15 dedicated helpers. In a large airy room with rows of cots, perhaps 30 in all, that are occupied by cradle babies that lie static as dolls.
Most are girls and are characterised by shocks of jet black hair that quite belie their newness to this world.
There is an uncanny air of silence to a room within which one would expect to hear a baby's cry.
Through another door, the silence is of a more disconcerting nature, as it is one that is determined not by slumber but by suffering.
For here in larger cots, lie the distorted bodies of older children, abandoned as a result of their profound mental and physical disabilities.
There are boys as well as girls at the Sri Chitra Home for Destitutes and Infirm, founded in 1934 by the Maharaja of Travancore.
There were then just nine residents, the numbers having increased at one time to 500, although at present there are just 300 orphans, 231 of which are girls.
It is lunch time, and the meal is to be a treat of fish curry which has been provided by a local wealthy businessman.
I am captivated by a young girl in a yellow dress, likely the youngest there. She is called Sreekutty and she bears the most striking of smiles.
I learn that she is one of the lucky ones, for she still has her mother, with whom she maintains contact, albeit that she can no longer look after her.
She is five years of age and was taken to the orphanage six months ago after her mother had twice failed suicide, as a result of Sreekutty's father having left her with three young children, of which Sreekutty is the eldest. She may one day return home.
For those that will neither be adopted nor have the chance to return home, there is still the opportunity for rehabilitation in the form of marriage.
To date, 70 marriages have taken place at the home, with suitable partners having been found by the authorities. Failing either education or marriage as being the bearers of a better life, there are some who are sadly destined to be in care forever.
At a stone convent a short distance away there is a home of 70 abandoned women. I am led in from the twilight of day to the dusk of a dormitory that is cast with shadows of movement, as those women who are able, shuffle slowly to collect their meal.
Others simply sit and stare, the traumas they have suffered, having severed their speech. Most have been abandoned by their families and picked up from the streets.
The suicide rate among women in Kerala is reported to be twice the national average. Mariamma, I am told, first came to the convent 30 years ago.
Then a young girl from a very poor farming family, she came to help in the kitchen and has remained here ever since. It is chilling yet warming to watch her as she tenderly feeds with her fingers, grains of sustenance to the motionless mouth of a woman who is dying.
Next to her lies a leper, being warmly cared for by another devoted helper who will tend her to her death and allow her in the words of Mother Teresa "a beautiful death" which "is for people who lived like animals to die like angels - loved and wanted".
For me there is release from this darkness within which I have ended my day, whilst for those I leave behind, there is little chance of liberation other than in the form of reincarnation, and with that, the hope of a more just and merciful life.
Source: Sky News
Links: http://news.sky.com/skynews/article/0,,30200-1315766,00.html