Every individual, poor or rich, has freedom to enjoy the sun, moon, nature and sex. Being born poor doesn?t mean you?ve to submit to poverty as an inherited religion. Getting people?s sympathy is drowning in a tsunami of self pity that sucks you inside out. I hated the poverty I was born into because of its power to contaminate you towards lethargy and idleness. I travel throughout the country for my work today, and often get demoralised with conditions of helplessness people find themselves in.
Returning from a remote village one day, the driver wanted some rest, and stopped the car near a brickfield. Looking at bricks from a design perspective brought back memories of our refugee colony brickfield. I can?t explain why artistic features thrilled me at childhood, like bricks being designed, ingeniously arranged in rows so they wouldn?t stick together, then going for firing. So much mud was consumed in brick-making that three ponds got created around the brickfield. During monsoon, water would flood across the ponds leaving us no pathway to the outside. Supported by our entire refugee colony, my father managed the socio-political altercation of getting the brick-making license cancelled. I remember the brick manufacturer came with a bagful of bribe-money, but my father threw him out.
Curiosity made me get off the car to check out brick-making today. I found many children and women working here, their faces darkened. Suddenly my driver was running behind me. He forced me to leave quickly. A friend later informed me that women workers in many such brickfields and other low-paying manual jobs are virtually bonded laborers; men who come to dump mud or take delivery of bricks often have abusive sex with them. It was really painful when he revealed they were perhaps compelled to give their bodies to protect their livelihoods. Unless the poor avoid passive, submissive poverty, and claim their own rights by pressing for modernising the brick-making process that respects their dignity, protects their health and gives them a decent salary, no brickfield owner will change this situation.
This hurts me; if I could eject myself from a penniless past, why not others? Of course millions have also exited childhood poverty by their own initiative. You cannot ignore that poor persons will have certain knowledge deficiencies, but they need not feel inferior. To illustrate, selling the only marriage gold bangle she possessed, my mother bought me Air India?s R2,700 return ?Youth Fare? from Delhi to Paris via Mumbai. In the aircraft, the airhostess said something in English. I looked at her stupidly. A foreigner seated next to me figured out I didn?t understand. He took the two portions of the seatbelt, put them in both my hands and said something. As the plane took off my two hands were still holding the two seat belt portions separately. The airhostess came around again. She shouted at me, but I had no language to express myself. My neighbor saw me, took my hands and closed the seat belt. That?s how I learned, ?Fasten your seatbelt.? We landed in Mumbai to change to the Paris flight. I unmindfully tried standing up, the seatbelt was still fastened but I didn?t know how to remove it. The foreigner came to my rescue again. He sat me down, showed me how to lift one part so the other came off. When next I came aboard for the Paris journey, I immediately fastened the seatbelt before another airhostess could shout at me. Being quick on the uptake was important; I was venturing into a new life with mental courage and determination only. Beyond $8 my mother could afford for me, I had no inkling of where I?d stay or what I?d do once I reached Paris.
I love this story Haren Barua recounts of a samosa vendor, who also lives off his wits. A traveller who journeys home by train from work in Paranur to Chennai, once had a samosa vendor plonk next to him with an empty basket at Guduvanchery station. In a sympathetic, ?time-pass? mood, he empathised about his tiresome day-long samosa-selling job. The vendor replied, ?What to do, sir? Only by selling samosas like this every day do we get a commission of 75 paise for each samosa we sell.? The traveller queried about his daily sales. ?On peak days, about 3,500, on dull days can?t even move 1,000; on average, about 2,000 samosas a day.? Quick arithmetic for average sales amounted to R1,500 rupees daily, or R45,000 per month. The traveller?s business instincts awoke; how does he make the samosas? ?Our proprietor gets them made by a samosa manufacturer.”
The vendor continued to chatter away, saying his earnings go for living expenses, only with marginal savings can he take care of his other business. ?What other business?? The vendor replied he bought 1.5 acres for R3 lakhs in Urupakkam in 2007, and sold it a few months ago for R15 lakhs. Now he?s bought land in Uthiramerur for R5 lakh. ?Of the balance, I?ve set R6 lakhs aside for my daughter?s wedding and deposited R4 lakhs in the bank.? He further revealed he?s studied upto third standard; can read and write. Before disembarking at Chromepet station, the vendor very politely said, ?Sir, there are many people like yourself, who dress well, wear a tie, shoes, speak English fluently and work in air-conditioned rooms. But I don?t think you earn as much as we do wearing dirty clothes and selling samosas.? Isn?t this a great example of personal initiative, courage, genuine entrepreneurship and killing poverty?
Sympathising with poverty is promoting a passive religion, it earns people no money. My message won?t reach the poor or non-English readers. Politicians professing to be their torchbearers don?t teach or inspire them to exit poverty without charity and begging, they merely tap them for votes. The main point is how to instill a desperate urge in poor people to oust poverty with their own initiative.
Shombit Sengupta is an international creative business strategy consultant to top management. Reach him http://www.shiningconsulting.com
