The Childhood That I Wanted

I remembered the time I was 9 years old when the school bell rang, and all my friends were excited to go back home. While I was happy that school was over, I didn’t share their excitement. Living in Mumbai, a city constantly buzzing with people, honking rickshaws, chatting vendors, and rushing crowds, I would return to an empty house with no one to talk to.

My parents were at work, leaving food for us in the kitchen. I looked forward to the day ending so I could see my mother, but she always came home tired from traveling in Mumbai’s crowded local trains and the stress of her office.

In 2006, when I was 15 years old, my father took voluntary retirement because he couldn’t handle the work pressure due to his hearing impairment. He stayed at home but didn’t contribute to household chores. Our relatives looked down on him for not working, and he avoided meeting them, immersing himself in watching TV, music, and drinking.

We faced a financial crisis, which led to daily fights between my parents making them unavailable for me as a child. I have two sisters. We would sometimes find comfort in each other but all we craved for was our parent’s attention. As such I never experienced the comfort of a hug from my father or mother. Visiting friend’s homes, I saw their parents interacting lovingly, something I dearly missed at my home.

Despite our struggles, my parents wanted me to succeed. My mother wished for me to pursue engineering. After 10th grade, I took an aptitude test to decide my future, but the results showed I wasn’t suited. This was a turning point, confirming that engineering wasn’t for me.

I then found the courage to say I wanted to study Humanities because it interested me. My parents were not pleased, but college opened a new world for me. I met students my age who cared about current affairs and social issues, and their discussions inspired me to consider a path in social work.

I still aimed for a master’s in social work at the Tata Institute of Social Sciences, one of the best colleges in Mumbai. But my parents did not support with this decision and were not ready to provide fees for it. Therefore, I pursued law, which was affordable and aligned with my goal.

In 2015, I graduated from law college and started working with an NGO, providing legal assistance to Child Welfare Committees in Mumbai. The Committee passed rehabilitation orders for children in need of care and protection. I felt proud to contribute to decisions that helped these children.

However, my perspective changed when I first visited a Child Care institution. The unhygienic conditions, washrooms without water, torn clothes, poor lighting, and lack of ventilation shocked me. I questioned, “Is it right to send these children to such institutions? Is this juvenile justice?”

This question troubled me more when I met a 16 years old child who was trafficked by her own grandmother. Despite being trafficked, she preferred to stay with her grandmother rather than in the childcare institution. Again, I questioned “Was this child getting justice?

Later that day, I saw children at the institution watching TV programs about loving families. Each child shrunk into a corner, hiding its feelings, however, silent tears spoke loudly of their sorrows. They longed for someone to embrace them with warmth and protection. Amidst the tears and sniffles, I couldn’t help but wonder – where was the justice in all of this?

As a child, I craved an environment of love and affection. Seeing these children, I realized they missed out on the same. I believe these institutions should be welcoming and help children heal their mental wounds instead of just placing them there in the name of safety.

As I was working in an NGO, I felt limited in my abilities to do something to change the conditions at child care institutions. I told myself, one day, I will start my own organization for these children providing a nurturing environment, needed for their rehabilitation, and leading to justice in the true sense.