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Families weren’t there for them, this home is Apahaj Ashram in Jalandhar provides its 135 inmates comprising the elderly and mentally challenged with comfort and balanced meals. They now know what it is to be cared for. By Aparna Banerji THE walls of the Apahaj Ashram in Jalandhar echo stories of longing and laughter, of abandoned parents, desolate mothers, fallen millionaires and little children whose parents never came back, and also some lucky reunited families. In the huge golden, sun-kissed courtyard of the ashram sit grey-haired men and women, talking, combing one another's hair, laughing or brooding over heartless families. A quaint shelter situated on the Old GT Road near Burlton Park, Jalandhar, it is a home for those whose families abandoned them when they needed them most. The ashram houses a “vridh” ashram as well as a wing for the mentally challenged.
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on record
Do you think two National Awards in a row for Punjabi films will open doors for other filmmakers? I can’t say for sure whether Gurvinder Singh’s film Anhey Ghode Da Daan last year and mine picking up the National Award this year will set a new trend of meaningful films in Punjabi cinema, but yes my short film Aatu Khoji did inspire many youngsters to work in the realm of short films. Why did you feel the need to switch to feature film? After watching Aatu Khoji many viewers felt that the film was good but too brief. Perhaps audiences in India are trained to watch longer films and feel a trifle dissatisfied with a shorter format and hunger for a longer run time. What clinched the award in your favour? I think it’s the subject and the music as I used Gurbani and gave it a contemporary twist. Your film deals with immigration racket, a problem that has devastated many families in Punjab. How did you think of making a film on this? Herein I owe a debt of gratitude to journalists. Reading a newspaper report about a High Court judgment on the murder of a young boy duped by illegal travel agents set me thinking. The fight of the old man who had lost his son truly moved and impelled me. Thereafter, I wrote the script and the screenplay. Was finance a big issue? Indeed it was, to begin with. Whoever I approached, pressured me to take big actors and make a commercial film. I did toy with the idea of casting the singing icon Gurdas Maan. But ultimately after finding my producer in Jasbir Singh Derewa, I settled for lesser-known actors. The best compliment I have received so far is “your actors look like characters”. Is it difficult to market such films? Making a film is only 25 per cent of the job. The real crux lies in how to take it to people. But I must clarify that I am not looking at screening my films in multiplexes which cater to the urban and neo-urban audiences. My exhibitors are not cinema people. I have made this film for the common man who lives in villages. Since he can’t afford high-priced tickets, I intend to reach out to him. Actually, I am in the midst of evolving an alternative system of distribution. Today Punjabi cinema seems to be in an exciting phase and new films are being announced every other day. What is your take on the Punjabi film industry? It’s not a cinema of conviction, but that of bhed chaal and fads. Sure, a few films did good business but many have flopped too. Anyway it’s the kind of cinema that doesn’t interest me at all. How would you describe your film? It’s serious cinema with a purpose through which I hope to
inspire not other makers, but the common people. Do you feel bogged down by the
weight of expectations after the National Award? Not in the least. I have already moved on to my next film Rakaan-s, an ode to women that will bring together narratives of four women and deal with burning issues of drug abuse, land-grab and also a flashback to the ’84 riots. Through my films I also intend to create a dialogue between the urban and rural populace. I think the urban class must empathise with the man living in villages whose reality is very different. You pick unusual names for you films. Any particular reason? Yes. nabar means rebel and rakaan in Punjabi refers to a woman with an attitude, a dare and an independent mind. These words are no longer heard. Through my films I want to save words that are fast vanishing from our language. Will you always make films in Punjabi? In all likelihood, yes.
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profile Sugathakumari's work to launch Abhaya was prompted by an off-chance visit to the government-run Mental Hospital in Thiruvanthapuram. The women were housed in 19th century conditions, sexually abused and prostituted to men in the neighbouring police camp. When she visited the hospital, she saw their stark emaciated naked bodies covered with sores. The horror of this experience remained embedded in her mind and she decided to do so something to stop such monstrosity. She set up Abhaya, and subsequently, the venture expanded and brought into its fold the responsibility of taking care of drug addicts, disowned children and rejected women, besides arranging for free lodging for women who are now self-reliant. She was chosen for the Saraswati Samman for her collection of 26 poems — Manalezhuthu — meaning “writing on the sand”. Poems in this anthology are marked by a variety of lyrical mode, complexity of metaphorical imagination, temporal impingement of the past and moral indignation over the fate and nature of the marginalised. Sugathakumari is best remembered for her works like Pearl Oyster, Mid-night Flowers, Poor Human Heart, The Wings of Darkness, Night Rain, Temple Bell, The Monsoon Green, and Where is Radha. Most of her poetic works have special place for Mother Nature and some dwell on relationships and emotional traverse of the mind. Born in 1934, Sugathakumari was brought up in an atmosphere that had a lot to do with letters. Even though one may reckon poetry as her first passion, it was natural for her to discover work on a personality trait that had to do with the betterment of the deprived and exploited sections of society. Her works often reflected appalling situations of life and sought answers to tide over them. She had a clear vision and understanding of developments taking place in society and never missed a chance to make her voice heard, which often forced the authorities to listen and pursue an acceptable course of action. For Sugathakumari, her understanding and feeling for those being treated unfairly was not the last of her concerns. The very existence of nature and the immense value of preserving it for posterity also brought out the crusader in her to take on forces bent on plundering the natural wealth of the state, and in the process exploiting the tribals. Among her campaigns, the one against 'ganja' cultivation in the Attappady tribal belt in Palakkad district and her initiatives for economic programmes in and around the region have yielded positive results.
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good news
THE walls of the Apahaj Ashram in Jalandhar echo stories of longing and laughter, of abandoned parents, desolate mothers, fallen millionaires and little children whose parents never came back, and also some lucky reunited families. In the huge golden, sun-kissed courtyard of the ashram sit grey-haired men and women, talking, combing one another's hair, laughing or brooding over heartless families. A quaint shelter situated on the Old GT Road near Burlton Park, Jalandhar, it is a home for those whose families abandoned them when they needed them most. The ashram houses a “vridh” ashram as well as a wing for the mentally challenged. Established in 1965, it is run by the Apahaj Sahayak Sabha and has 135 inmates, including the elderly and about 20 mentally challenged inmates.
The overhaul While about a decade ago it was a derelict compound with limited, shabby rooms and dormitories, and even without a sewerage connection, it all changed for the good when the present Chairman Tarsem Kapoor took over in 2002. Back then, the about 100 inmates of the home included some staff members and their children, but they were moved out as the lodgings were reserved strictly for the needy. A modest organisation that was getting a mere Rs 6 lakh annually as donation when Kapoor joined, is now getting as much as Rs 90 lakh per annum. Though some would say it isn’t a big amount, he considers it enough. “It was difficult to arrange for donations at first, but thankfully when you work, people join in and today we have ample with God’s grace,” he says. New wards were built, older ones were renovated and proper staff put in place to ensure care for the inmates. Milk for the inmates comes from an in-house “gaushala” that has about 50 cattle. An ambulance is available for them round the clock and a doctor comes to check on ashram residents every evening.
Like a home The inmates’ eulogy to staff members is one of the many proofs of the comfort they enjoy. “This place is a heaven for me. I can sleep without worrying who will take me to the doctor if I get ill. I am getting five meals in a day, besides milk and almonds. What more do I need? The children I bore never even asked how I was,” says 72-year-old Ved Praksh Sharma, a man who owned a business worth crores but was abandoned by his son after his father began incurring losses. Sharma's friend Munshi Ram enthusiastically adds, “People with lakhs and crores leave their loved ones to rot on the road and it’s these (ashram) people who bring them here and nurture them. There's no nobler deed.” In the women's section, a cheery quartet one confuses for inmates turns out to have one attendant and a visitor (daughter of an inmate) as well. Meenu calls the caretaker Sonia “mummy” (other mentally challenged inmates address her in a similar fashion). Sonia says they all are her daughters. Meenu, in her 20s, was left at the ashram by her brother who told the ashram he would return after his brief duty at Bhakhra Dam to take her, but never did. Eleven-year-old Kajal has siblings, but since she was challenged, she was abandoned by her parents, who Sonia says are well to do but still left her. “Changey bacche rakh lainde, dooje chad jande (they keep ‘good’ children and leave the others here),” Sonia remarks. Over the years, many inmates have also returned to their families. Nathuram Baba, from Uttarkashi, a Sanskrit scholar who was more like the ashram's priest, would conduct puja every day for inmates, but reunited with his family some months ago. Datta, who was mentally challenged, got better and was taken back by his family. Others like Shiv Das, who had jumped in the Beas to end his life (tormented by the death of his son and wife) was jailed for attempt to suicide but fate brought him here. “There are no worries for food or shelter, so I have given up thoughts of dying,” he says. Yograj, who has worked with the police and railways, is a poet and writer. His son left him at the ashram. And though he is no doctor, he is called so both by the staff and fellow inmates because he has a fair knowledge of medicines and injections.
Future wise While things have gotten much better at the ashram, Kapoor says there is room for improvement and expansion plans are under way. “While the old wards have been renovated, we plan to build a state-of-the-art dining room and kitchen. Other improvements and additions shall also be made from time to time," he says.
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Michelle Obama, us first lady Nitish Kumar, bihar chief minister Arun Jaitley, bjp leader Vidya Balan, bollywood actor MS Dhoni, team india captain
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“I
don’t make films for festivals nor for money.” With these words filmmaker Rajeev Sharma takes a well-deserved bow. As his debut film Nabar picks up the National Award for the best Punjabi film, an honour that comes to Punjabi cinema only once in a while, he looks back at his journey in the arc lights that started with theatre. An alumnus of the Department of Indian Theatre, Panjabi University, Chandigarh, his theatre group Lok Kala Manch Mandi Mullanpur, Ludhiana district, is set to celebrate its silver jubilee this year. While theatre remains his first love, his career graph has seen him halting at senior positions with many television channels. Last year his short film Aatu Khoji won critical acclaim. He made documentaries on Punjab’s revolutionary poet Avtar Pash and the famous dhadi singer Idu Sharif. He is looking ahead at another film Rakaan-s and is neither eyeing houseful theatres nor film festivals. A director who asserts he is not a festival kind of director, Sharma dedicates his National Award to those who have dared to fight injustice. He talks of the award and the kind of cinema he believes in. Excerpts:
THE combination of a poet, social worker and environmentalist is rarely seen in a person. Sugathakumari, honoured with the prestigious Saraswati Samman last week is one such person. She was inspired by her father's poetry and his strong beliefs; he was a freedom fighter. She also founded Abhaya (refuge), an organisation which gave shelter and hope to mentally challenged women.
I never ever cut class. I loved getting ‘A’s and I liked being smart. I was always on time. I thought being smart is cooler than anything else in the world. 
This has no political meaning. This is clearly aimed at development. If any politics is involved in it, it is politics of development. There’s no politics of permutations and combinations or going here and there.
The Prime Minister is often heard using the expression India stands tall as a nation. But the fact is that the country has been dwarfed under a weak Prime Minister.
In real life, women are coming on their own in different spheres of their lives. We are beginning to acknowledge and recognise we are individuals and have the right to happiness. We must also matter to ourselves.
Tendulkar is my sporting hero and because of the aura he carries, I still have difficulties speaking to him outside the cricket field.