Posts tagged Jaipur

Why rehabilitation is as vital as rescue for child trafficking survivors

By Neena Bhandari

Sydney, 29.03.2021 (IPS): Twelve-year-old Babloo’s (Name changed) parents, who worked as daily wage agricultural labourers in the eastern Indian state of Bihar, were finding it difficult to feed their family of six. They had recently lost their eldest son to sudden illness, when a distant relative convinced them to send Babloo with him to work in a city. He promised to pay Rs 5000 (US$70) a month, a significant amount for the impoverished family.

The relative took Babloo and his 14-year-old cousin from the village and handed them to a trafficker, who took them by rail to Jaipur, capital of the western Indian state of Rajasthan, nearly 1200 kilometre away from their home.

“We were locked in a small room. The windows were sealed and there was no natural light. There were 10 other children already there. We were made to grind glass stones and then stick the stone embellishments and beads on lac bangles from 6am till midnight everyday”, Babloo tells IPS via Zoom from his village in Nawada district in southern Bihar.

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Remembering uncle – the man behind Jaipur Foot

By Neena Bhandari

Jaipur, 31.01.2008 (Indo Asian News Service): Each year, when I returned home from Australia for our winter sojourn, spending an evening with “uncle” – as I had come to address Dr Pramod Karan Sethi after our four-decade long association – had become a ritual. Sadly, this year I was too late. A recipient of the Padma Shri and Magasaysay awards, Sethi, who provided new hope to many an amputee with the development of an artificial limb (Jaipur Foot) in association with master artisan Ram Chander Sharma (Masterji), and improved callipers for polio patients, passed away Jan 5, 2008, at the age of 80.

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Daulat Mal Bhandari – a freedom fighter, politician, judge & a humanitarian

(16th December 1907 – 10th January 2004)

Many years ago, while dropping me at our ancestral home in Jaipur, capital of the western Indian state of Rajasthan, a rickshaw-puller Abdul Hamid (name changed) asked if it was Daulat Mal Bhandari’s home. When I pointed towards babusa (an endearing address for the head of family), who was sitting in the garden, reading in the diminishing warmth of the winter sun, Hamid’s face lit up. He told me that he, along with most people in his community, had cast their vote to babusa in the 1952 Lok Sabha elections. India had just become a Sovereign Socialist Secular Democratic Republic with a parliamentary form of government after decades of British rule (1858-1947). Hesitantly, Hamid asked if it was possible for him to pay his respects to Bhandari saheb. Babusa, made him sit on the chair opposite him and they shared a cup of tea over a yarn. Such was his humility.

This is an attempt to sketch the life and times of a man, my paternal grandfather, who rose to fame by sheer excellence of his calibre, diligence and perseverance. His razor-sharp memory, quick wit and amiable nature earned him the love and respect of one and all.

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