Unwanted, widows live on the dark side of hope
1 view
Skip to first unread message
MAITRI
Dec 4, 2010, 9:50:12 PM12/4/10
to Maitri
Everything in the holy city of Vrindavan — grocery stores,
restaurants, colleges, upcoming multi-storey apartments — is named
after Lord Krishna. The dusty roads are crowded with people, cars and
cows. The temples are full of devotees and monkeys. And at every
street corner, in every temple and outside every roadside eatery,
frail women in white saris stand and wait.
They wait for someone to throw food or money at them, but they are not
beggars and no one treats them as such. But begging of some sort is
what the widows of Vrindavan — about 21,000 of them — do for a living.
Old or young, they're called "Ma". The older ones have similar stories
to tell: widowed young; ill-treated by their husbands' families or
their own, finally dumped in Vrindavan.
Today, they live in the temples and ashrams that dot the town. Or
they're on the streets. They sing bhajans in temples and wait for food
or money on the streets. Some of the younger Mas have turned to
prostitution.
It might have been different had anyone paid heed to an ambitious plan
announced in 2007, by the then minister for women and child
development Renuka Chowdhury. She said the government would extricate
young widows from poverty and help them remarry, if they wanted to.
It was ambitious, even though the Hindu Widows' Remarriage Act gave
them the right to remarry 150 years ago and the Hindu Succession Act
gave them the same inheritance rights as men half-a-century ago. Back
then, Chowdhury expressed public perplexity: "Why should so many
widows find themselves utterly helpless and destitute in religious
towns like Mathura and Vrindavan?"
Three years on, nobody here, particularly the widows, admits to
knowing about Chowdhury's poverty alleviation and remarriage scheme.
"The scheme was a hoax. Forget remarriage, the government has not even
provided basic needs such as food and pensions to thousands of widows
who live in Mathura and Vrindavan," says Mohini Giri, head of Guild
for Service, an NGO that runs the Aamar Bari shelter for widows in
Vrindavan.
Just days ago, the Guild released a report, Dimensions of Deprivation:
Study on the Poverty Levels of Widows of Vrindavan, based on a survey
of 500 widows.
It found that 78%, young and old, were afraid of sexual and physical
harassment, worry about being cremated without the proper rites,
becoming homeless or going hungry. A majority of widows (83%) earn
between Rs 200 and Rs 1,000 a month; 7% less than Rs 200 a month and
10% more than Rs 1,000 a month. "They live in terrible conditions,"
says Giri, former chairperson of the National Commission for Women.
In India, the incidence of widowhood rises sharply with age. More than
60% of women aged 60 or more, and 80% of those aged 70 or more are
widows.
Megha is in her mid-70s and says she doesn't remember meeting her
husband. He died when she was nine. After a few tortured years at
home, her brothers deposited Megha at an ashram here. Ever since, she
has begged on the streets of Vrindavan. "I hope I find moksha here,"
she says, without a trace of self-pity in her voice. Savitri Devi, 65,
doesn't seem to feel sorry for herself. A mother of four, she was
widowed about 20 years ago, raised her children on her own and saw
them married. "My two daughters-in-law began treating me badly, so I
ran away from home and live here happily with the other Mas," she
says. Then there are those who became widows by choice. Sandhya, from
Mumbai, ran away from home. "My husband was the threat. I feel safer,
more comfortable here," says the 49-year-old who lives with 200 other
Mas at Aamar Bari.
Abandoned by their families and neglected by the authorities, the Mas
of Vrindavan have few support systems other than each other, says
Giri.
Interestingly, she and some others believe Vrindavan's Mas are
breaking new ground even as they are held fast by Hindu society's age-
old dismissiveness of widows. "They are veering away from the
traditional beliefs, how widows should live and what they should wear
and eat. They do not believe in tonsuring their heads, and some of the
younger ones seem open to the idea of remarriage," says Giri. There
have been some remarriages, organised by NGOs and individuals. But the
Central government scheme announced by Renuka Chowdhury remains no
more than a note in a file in the ministry of women and child
development.
Read more: Unwanted, widows live on the dark side of hope - The Times
of India
http://timesofindia.indiatimes.com/home/sunday-toi/special-report/Unwanted-widows-live-on-the-dark-side-of-hope/articleshow/7045819.cms#ixzz17CZ97sGa
restaurants, colleges, upcoming multi-storey apartments — is named
after Lord Krishna. The dusty roads are crowded with people, cars and
cows. The temples are full of devotees and monkeys. And at every
street corner, in every temple and outside every roadside eatery,
frail women in white saris stand and wait.
They wait for someone to throw food or money at them, but they are not
beggars and no one treats them as such. But begging of some sort is
what the widows of Vrindavan — about 21,000 of them — do for a living.
Old or young, they're called "Ma". The older ones have similar stories
to tell: widowed young; ill-treated by their husbands' families or
their own, finally dumped in Vrindavan.
Today, they live in the temples and ashrams that dot the town. Or
they're on the streets. They sing bhajans in temples and wait for food
or money on the streets. Some of the younger Mas have turned to
prostitution.
It might have been different had anyone paid heed to an ambitious plan
announced in 2007, by the then minister for women and child
development Renuka Chowdhury. She said the government would extricate
young widows from poverty and help them remarry, if they wanted to.
It was ambitious, even though the Hindu Widows' Remarriage Act gave
them the right to remarry 150 years ago and the Hindu Succession Act
gave them the same inheritance rights as men half-a-century ago. Back
then, Chowdhury expressed public perplexity: "Why should so many
widows find themselves utterly helpless and destitute in religious
towns like Mathura and Vrindavan?"
Three years on, nobody here, particularly the widows, admits to
knowing about Chowdhury's poverty alleviation and remarriage scheme.
"The scheme was a hoax. Forget remarriage, the government has not even
provided basic needs such as food and pensions to thousands of widows
who live in Mathura and Vrindavan," says Mohini Giri, head of Guild
for Service, an NGO that runs the Aamar Bari shelter for widows in
Vrindavan.
Just days ago, the Guild released a report, Dimensions of Deprivation:
Study on the Poverty Levels of Widows of Vrindavan, based on a survey
of 500 widows.
It found that 78%, young and old, were afraid of sexual and physical
harassment, worry about being cremated without the proper rites,
becoming homeless or going hungry. A majority of widows (83%) earn
between Rs 200 and Rs 1,000 a month; 7% less than Rs 200 a month and
10% more than Rs 1,000 a month. "They live in terrible conditions,"
says Giri, former chairperson of the National Commission for Women.
In India, the incidence of widowhood rises sharply with age. More than
60% of women aged 60 or more, and 80% of those aged 70 or more are
widows.
Megha is in her mid-70s and says she doesn't remember meeting her
husband. He died when she was nine. After a few tortured years at
home, her brothers deposited Megha at an ashram here. Ever since, she
has begged on the streets of Vrindavan. "I hope I find moksha here,"
she says, without a trace of self-pity in her voice. Savitri Devi, 65,
doesn't seem to feel sorry for herself. A mother of four, she was
widowed about 20 years ago, raised her children on her own and saw
them married. "My two daughters-in-law began treating me badly, so I
ran away from home and live here happily with the other Mas," she
says. Then there are those who became widows by choice. Sandhya, from
Mumbai, ran away from home. "My husband was the threat. I feel safer,
more comfortable here," says the 49-year-old who lives with 200 other
Mas at Aamar Bari.
Abandoned by their families and neglected by the authorities, the Mas
of Vrindavan have few support systems other than each other, says
Giri.
Interestingly, she and some others believe Vrindavan's Mas are
breaking new ground even as they are held fast by Hindu society's age-
old dismissiveness of widows. "They are veering away from the
traditional beliefs, how widows should live and what they should wear
and eat. They do not believe in tonsuring their heads, and some of the
younger ones seem open to the idea of remarriage," says Giri. There
have been some remarriages, organised by NGOs and individuals. But the
Central government scheme announced by Renuka Chowdhury remains no
more than a note in a file in the ministry of women and child
development.
Read more: Unwanted, widows live on the dark side of hope - The Times
of India
http://timesofindia.indiatimes.com/home/sunday-toi/special-report/Unwanted-widows-live-on-the-dark-side-of-hope/articleshow/7045819.cms#ixzz17CZ97sGa
Reply all
Reply to author
Forward
0 new messages