Female literacy is the key....

It was in August 2017, a news story on 62 infant deaths in gorakhpur government hospital drew flak from one and all. And this year, Uttar Pradesh has earned the dubious distinction of state with highest Infant Mortality Rate (IMR) of 64. This is followed by Chattisgarh (54), Madhya Pradesh (51), Assam (48), Bihar(48) and Jharkhand (44). While the media played stories after stories on dismal state of health affairs, our so called Netas tried to wash off their hands off  by playing the blame game. However, there is also a flip side to this, I googled and was zapped to find out that Kerala has the lowest infant mortality(IMR) rate. The state has consistently worked on to reduce it's IMR and has finally succeeded to bring it to single digit. In a nation where half of the women do not have access to proper health care during pregnancy, why and how does Kerala has low infant deaths. Here is what I found:
Even though Kerala stands lowest in terms of infant mortality rate, instead of basking in this glory, it has consistently worked on making it's IMR number to 6 by increasing it's health care budget every year. For this purpose the state government sought help of Indian Academy of Paediatrics (IAP).
Another major reason for low IMR was, high female literacy in Kerala. Going by the saying 'Educate a woman and you are educating a family', Kerala gives priority to women education. Even remotest areas of the state have well equipped school with educated teachers.
Third reason for low IMR is access to healthcare facilities. Women in Kerala have better access to health care facilities as compared to other states. This can be inferred from the fact that almost 90 per cent deliveries in the state are institutional.
It was all the more shocking that states with low IMRs have even lower female literary rates and  worse health care facilites. Over the years, states with low female literacy like Rajasthan, Uttar Pradesh, Bihar, Orissa and Assam have even lower IMRs. The main reason why Kerala has lowest IMR is because it has highest female literacy rate. Female literacy and IMRs are inversely proportional.
Then I googled the health care budget of these states over the recent years. Here is what I found:
Over the years, states with low IMRs and low literacy rates have been only marginally increasing the budget for sectors like education and health. The condition of education and health care continues to remain dismal in these states. This clearly shows rampant corruption and how Netas and government officials ensure no facilities are available for poor.
Even states with mediocre IMRs and literacy rates prefer allocating large budgets only to sectors like urban development. The amount alloted to urban development is easily siphoned off by Netas and corrupt officials. Shockingly, Modi's model state Gujarat has been religiously decreasing it's health and education budget in recent years. It is only in the election years 2018-2019 that the central and state governments have given a thought to increase the education and health budget, but only marginally. Enough for the government to garner votes.

Jab I met my guru....

Recently i made a short visit to my parent's home. Just a day before my journey back, we went to buy a few daily need items. While I was walking past a store, a heard someone call my name. I turned to find out it was our physics teacher, Davis sir. Once with dark black hair and thick moustaches, now with grey streaks and wrinkled eyes. I was surprised to see he has lost so much weight ( I was embarrassed as I had gained weight).
One thing that often leaves me awestruck about  teachers is they remember the name of each and every student they have taught. I mean just imagine, every teacher might have taught at least thousand students in his lifetime, (the number may be even more), but she or he remembers the name of every student he taught. And even though we change so much after school life, even if we gain weight or lose weight, grow moustaches or beard, get married, have kids, but they still recognise us in just one look.
So, It took me a while to realise that Davis sir, my class teacher who was among the most handsome teachers of our school, can grow old. And after looking at his wrinkled face I realise how time has flown.
I told him about other students of our class, about some of them with whom I was in touch.
Another thing about teachers I admire is, they are the only one in this whole world, after our parents, who feel so proud of the feats of their students. When I told Davis sir about our students, how many of them are working abroad and some of them have even cracked IAS, he smiled in amazement.
As we talked, he shared something that tore me from inside. He said that the company, that owned the school land and the surrounding township, was planning to demolish the whole township, including our school and colony. People and teachers here may be relocated to some other place. I was heartbroken, never thought that the school where I studied right from nursery to class twelfth, my kids won't be able to see that school again. I thought when my son would grow up I would bring him to my school, show him my classrooms, our school playground, our prayer hall, our chemistry lab where we broke something or the other everyday, our music room. The very thought of my school being bulldozed, filled my eyes with tears.
I wonder where will all the faculty members and staffs of our school go? Where will they find jobs and accommodation?
People suggested me to opt teaching as a career, but somehow I never settled for it. Not because it is the most cliché career option for girls, but because it requires a lot of patience and selflessness to become a teacher.

"A teacher is the most humble person on this planet who just earns enough to make both ends meet, while creating some of the best minds of this world."

A day with myself....

Five years, its been five fucking years when I left this city. The city that taught me to survive, to fly, and in these five years I had experienced every emotion, every crazy thing one can imagine. Late night drivings, random talks with strangers, dancing on roads, and even getting drunk. I had made up my mind to live my life to the fullest, on my conditions, and was in love with my city forever. But then my parents married me and this was the end of my story, my freedom, my ambitions. From a liberal, independent, happy go lucky girl, I became a bahu (a trophy) owned by a.prominent family. Every time I longed to enjoy something, or talked funny, I was reprimanded of the high status and respect of my in-laws. I thought I would suffocate to death amidst these traditions that were more of ordeals on how should I walk, dress and what should I eat. How should I address my my husband and all the fasts n puja I had to perform.
The only time I use to feel alive was when I came to visit my parents. I laughed without thinking how loud I was, talked without mincing words, and ate what I liked, slept till late in the morning, and for once, I wasn't worried about what to cook for lunch or dinner.

One morning I decided to take a stroll in the city. I wanted to see what has changed over these years. New malls, parks, metro station, and what not. The mere feeling of freedom... Roaming in the city on your own, doing what you like, gave me thrill. But this time, this feeling of being at home wasn't there anymore. Strange people, new places, a few unknown roads, even the famous paav bhaaji that I use to eat with friends, tasted different. The city where I found peace in chaos, love in its vibrant hues of daily life, and happiness in chit chats with friends, was now just another new city to explore. I still don't know what I missed the most, the city or myself.