Shruthi’S Heart

Contents

Introduction

Chapter 1: School

Chapter 2: Shruthi’s Eighth Birthday

Chapter 3: The Orphanage

Chapter 4: Chores

Chapter 5: School at Mother Theresa’s

Chapter 6: The Visitors

Chapter 7: The Bully

Chapter 8: The Adoption

Chapter 9: The City

Chapter 10: English Lessons

Chapter 11: New Delhi

Chapter 12: America

Chapter 13: Holidays

Chapter 14: Christmas

Chapter 15: First Day of School

Chapter 16: Diversity Week

Glossary Of Terms

To my loving husband Noor Ali for all his support and gentle understanding. To my children James and Rachel, and my Goddaughter Robin, with much love and affection. To my Godparents Ed and Linda who have inspired my love for children. To my mother-in-law Habib and my father-in-law Roshan who share my compassion for orphans and the poor. And to all the orphans of the world, especially India, whose only desire is to be loved.

Introduction

There are over 25 million orphans in India, many of whom are in the streets begging for food every day. Many of these orphans are living in orphanages which are underfunded or in brothels of unimaginable conditions. Sadly, many are HIV positive.

Child labor in India was outlawed in 1986 and again in 2006. However, since the majority of India’s one billion people live in extreme poverty, many children continue to work to help support their families. For some children if they don’t work—they don’t eat. For many, without a secure future, there is no hope.

Many agencies, organizations, and individuals are trying to help alleviate the plight of these children. It may seem hopeless under the vast scope of need but helping one child at a time to go to sleep without hunger, to attend school, or to be allowed to live as a child means a world of difference in their young lives. One drop of water in a bucket may seem like nothing, however, many drops can cause the bucket to overflow.

Although, many of the characters and incidents in this story are fictional, they have been directly inspired through actual observations and experiences. I hope that Shruthi’s Heart will touch your own heart with warmth and compassion for children such as Shruthi. Many childless people have been blessed by the joy of opening their hearts and homes to Indian orphans. Not everyone can adopt, but anyone can care; and caring can change a life, even one life at a time. Awareness is the beginning of compassion.

Chapter 1

SCHOOL

Wake up! Wake up! Auntie called in the Telugu language from the kitchen. Time for school!

Seven-year-old Shruthi stretched as she sat up on her woven straw mat. The smell of breakfast cooking in the small house just outside filled the even smaller hut. The dim light of a south Indian sunrise had just begun to show through the open gaps in the sticks that were the walls of the tiny, palm-thatched hut with a dirt floor. Shruthi could hear the bleating of goats outside and the apple vendor shouting loudly in a funny, deep voice, Appy! Appy! The rhythmic, Slap! Slap! Slap! of wet laundry being washed and then pounded to remove the water could be heard in the distance. The little beach village of Appikonda, in southeast India, was already awake and busy with daily life.

Shruthi stretched again and reached over to shake Anil, her younger brother, who was lying next to her on the mat. Come. Wake up. She said in Telugu, We are getting late.

Five-year-old Anil sat up, rubbed his eyes and yawned. "Is it really morning already, Akka[1]?" he asked.

Yes, Shruthi answered, now hurry or Auntie will be cross with us.

Just then, Ashwini, Shruthi and Anil’s three-year-old sister woke up whimpering.

I’m still sleepy, Akka. Ashwini yawned in her high, sweet, three-year-old voice.

Sorry, Chelli[2] Shruthi said, as she smoothed back Ashwini’s straight, black hair from her little face. It’s time to go to school.

Shruthi hurried to the separate restroom hut to relieve herself and then out to the well. She struggled to draw water with a large bucket that was tied to a long rope. She skimmed off a few dead bugs floating on the surface and quickly dipped her hands into the cold water and washed her face and hands. Then Shruthi poured the water into a larger bucket that was on the ground next to the well, and drew another bucket of water for Ashwini’s bath.

Come Ashwini. Shruthi called to her little sister.

Ashwini came obediently, still looking half asleep, her little body covered only by a short, hole-ridden, worn out t-shirt that one of her cousins had cast off. Ashwini jingled as she walked. The tiny bells of her silver ankle bracelets sparkled in the morning sun as she made her way, bare footed, across the sandy yard. Shruthi stripped off her own worn and torn nightie that used to be red with white flowers, but was now faded, dingy and thin, and wrapped an equally worn towel around herself. A gust of warm ocean breeze blew as she bathed herself and Ashwini in the cold water from the well.

Oh, Akka! The water is so cold! Ashwini cried, shivering.

Before Shruthi could answer her little sister, Auntie called again. Hurry, children! Your breakfast is getting cold.

Very quickly, Shruthi wrapped a thin towel around Ashwini’s body, picked up her little sister, and carried her into the small hut, bending backward with the weight. Shruthi dressed Ashwini and herself in their matching school uniforms, being careful not to soil them on the dirt floor. Their uniforms were a bit faded and worn-looking, because they were hand-me-downs from their older cousins. They were navy blue jumpers with pleated skirts and a blue and white gingham check blouse. They wore blue knee socks and black patent leather, Mary Jane style shoes with a strap at the ankle, all of these also being hand-me-downs. Shruthi placed a tiny bindi[3] sticker on Ashwini’s forehead, between her eyebrows. Then she put another bindi on herself and slipped a few blue bangle bracelets on each wrist. Then she put some tiny red bangles on Ashwini.

Shruthi was very small and thin, with long black hair that reached past her waist. She kept it combed into two braids on each side of her head, just like every other Indian girl her age. She had large black eyes that were older than her years, with long black eyelashes and light brown skin. She was shy and smart, and did very well in her studies.

Ashwini had a sweet round face and large, wondering black eyes, and an innocent smile that won the hearts of all who saw her. Her long, black hair, also, hung past her waist. The girls wore the traditional Indian jewelry customary for South Indian girls and women: silver ankle bracelets, many colored bangles on their wrists, gold earrings and sometimes a nose ring. Shruthi and Ashwini had all of these; loving gifts from their parents.

Although it was worn and faded, Shruthi thought how cute and tiny Ashwini looked in her uniform. Most children in India start school at the age of three, and Ashwini had just turned three years old this past summer. Indian children attend school six days a week, Sunday being the only day off.

The day after tomorrow, Sunday, would be Shruthi’s eighth birthday, but she was sure that Uncle and Auntie would not give her a party. Uncle worked in the steel plant when work was available and sometimes as a fisherman. However, work was not always available and he didn’t catch fish every day. With all the other children of their own, and now Shruthi and her brother and sister to care for, there was very little money and a party would be a waste. There was hardly enough money for food, let alone, a birthday party.

Shruthi, Anil and Ashwini had come to live with Uncle and Auntie nearly two years ago. Their mother and father had died in a terrible auto accident. Mother and Auntie had been sisters, so Auntie had taken the children in, as there was no other family to take care of the three of them. Shruthi missed her parents very much, but Ashwini had been just one year old when their parents died, so she did not even remember them. Anil was beginning to forget them too. Shruthi had become the little mother of her two younger siblings. Sometimes, Shruthi would take out an old tattered wedding photo of her parents, (the only remembrance of them) and show it to Anil and Ashwini. She would tell them sweet things about their father and mother, so they would not forget. But in truth, she told the stories, because Shruthi herself was beginning to forget her parents too, and she wanted to remind herself how much their parents loved all of them. The children did not feel so loved any longer.

Shruthi cherished that photo. She kept it, safely in a little metal cigar box, filled with treasures that she kept hidden in a hole in the dirt floor with a flat rock covering it. The box was old and badly rusted, but the lid fit securely and it was the right size to keep Shruthi’s special things. There was really nothing valuable in her treasure box, only sentimental in value. There was a broken piece of blue colored glass that Anil had found and given to her one day, a tiny green bangle bracelet that had been Ashwini’s when she was a baby, a smooth black stone with a fossilized mosquito that she had found on the beach, a bird feather, one of her baby teeth, a red sari pin that had belonged to her mother, a bottle cap with an interesting design and a sparkly pink bead that she had found on the floor of Madam Lakshmi’s tailoring shop. But the picture was most treasured. Auntie had given it to Shruthi when the children first came to stay there, hoping it would help soothe the grief in the little girl’s heart.

Anil was already dressed in his uniform and in the house eating his breakfast. His uniform was the same blue and white gingham shirt and navy blue short pants, also worn from years of washing. Schoolboys in India wear short pants. He also had blue knee socks and black patent leather shoes, but his shoes tied, if there had been laces in them, and he wore a little blue necktie. Anil’s shoes had holes in the soles and they were two sizes too big. They used to belong to his older cousin, Rajeev, who had long since grown out of them. They made a clomp, clomp sound as Anil walked. If Shruthi had allowed him, he would have just taken them off and gone bare-foot as he preferred that to the annoying shoes. However, Shruthi would not let him, because she was afraid that the school master would be angry with him.

Shruthi took Ashwini by the hand as they went into the house. They kicked their shoes off at the door next to all the other pairs of shoes and then sat down on the floor on the woven dinner mat next to Anil and their five cousins. Kumar was thirteen years old and the oldest of Uncle and Auntie’s children. Lalitha (pronounced La-lee-tah) was eleven, the oldest girl. Their brother Rajeev was eight, and the twins, Sameer and Suma, one boy and one girl, were five years old just like Anil. They were all dressed in their school uniforms and eating their breakfast, but their uniforms were not worn, like Shruthi, Anil and Ashwini’s. Auntie placed a metal dish with idly[4] and sambar[5] in front of each of them. Shruthi broke off a small piece of idly and dipped it into the sambar and fed it to Ashwini with her right hand.

I want to feed myself, Ashwini protested lifting her hand to take the food.

No, Chelli, Shruthi answered, You will soil your uniform. Let me. Ashwini obeyed and Shruthi fed her little sister and herself the traditional South Indian breakfast.

Don’t forget to comb your hair. Auntie said to Shruthi.

Oh, yes, Auntie. I forgot. Shruthi answered and then to her brother she said, Your shirt is buttoned wrong, Anil and you didn’t comb your hair, either.

Anil looked down at his shirt. It was un-tucked and he had missed a button, so the collar and tails were uneven.

I will, Akka, said Anil with his mouth full of idly. He stuffed the last piece of food into his mouth, stood up from the mat and quickly ran to the small kitchen to wash his plate. He ran back to the door and quickly slipped on his shoes. And tuck in your shirt! Shruthi called after him. All of the other children laughed.

I’m surprised that Anil remembers to wear his pants without you telling him, Shruthi. Kumar said with a grin. The other children laughed again.

"He’s just five years old, Annayya[6]." Shruthi said, defending Anil.

And you are only seven, Kumar laughed.

Eight, day after tomorrow, Shruthi corrected.

Oh, yes! That’s right, Kumar teased, You will be grown up Sunday! I forgot! The other children giggled, but Shruthi did not think that Kumar’s teasing was funny. She simply stood up, took Ashwini by the hand, took their plates to the kitchen and washed them.

You shouldn’t tease Shruthi so much, Kumar. Lalitha said to her brother. You know that it is difficult for them since their parents died.

Oh, she likes it. Kumar said. Don’t worry about them so much.

Annayya, Lalitha said with compassion in her voice, How would you feel if we lost our parents and had to go live with our relative where there wasn’t even enough food or room for us? Just think how it must feel. Lalitha continued, We must take care of them, not make them feel worse.

You are right, Lalitha, Kumar said, thoughtfully, I’m sorry, I was just playing.

Shruthi and Ashwini walked past the other children in silence, put on their shoes and went out to the hut to fix their hair. Shruthi combed Ashwini’s long, black hair into neat sections and braided it into two perfect braids on each side of Ashwini’s little head. She then looped each braid up in the back and secured them with a red fabric hair ribbon. Ashwini was the picture of a loved and cared for pre-schooler, except that her clothes were very old and worn.

Get your back pack, Chelli, while I comb my hair. Shruthi told Ashwini. Shruthi began to comb her hair, struggling to make her own braids perfectly. Just then, Lalitha appeared at the door of the hut.

Here, Shruthi, I will do it. Lalitha said kindly, taking the comb from Shruthi’s hand. She quickly and expertly combed braided and secured Shruthi’s hair in two perfectly looped braids with red ribbons on each side. Lalitha held Shruthi away from herself by the shoulders and lovingly examined her work.

You look beautiful, Chelli! Lalitha told Shruthi with a big smile. Shruthi hugged her cousin.

Oh, I love you, Akka, Shruthi told Lalitha, sincerely. You are my favorite cousin.

I love you too, Shruthi. Lalitha replied. Don’t worry about Kumar. He doesn’t mean to hurt you with his teasing. He is just treating you like a sister. Shruthi smiled.

From the house, Auntie was calling. It was time to walk the two kilometers[7] to school.

We are coming, Amma! Lalitha called back to her mother. Get your bag, Shruthi. Where’s Anil?

Anil? Anil! Shruthi called her brother as she fumbled to secure her shoe with a safety pin where the buckle used to be. Time for school! Anil appeared in the door of the hut. His face was dripping with sweat, his shoes were scuffed and dirty, his hair a mess and his shirt was still un-tucked. He had been running.

I’m here. I’m here. Anil said breathlessly.

Anil! Just look at yourself! Shruthi scolded. What on earth were you doing?

Well, the goat got untied, Anil stammered, and I had to go fetch it. Shruthi and Lalitha began cleaning and straightening Anil’s clothes and shoes. Puffs of dust plumed around him as they brushed him off.

If we are late, Lalitha warned, Masteru will punish us. Shruthi began to clean Anil’s shoes faster. Anil looked a little frightened.

Hurry! Lalitha scolded. We need to leave . . . now! Lalitha quickly left the little hut. She would not take the chance of being late and getting punished by the school master.

Oh, Anil! Shruthi was nearly crying. Why do you do these things? This was not the first time that Anil had made them late or gotten into some mischief just before an event. But being late for school was the worst.

Shruthi shoved Anil’s backpack into his arms, grabbed her own backpack, putting it on as she was running out the door of the hut. Come! She ordered the two small children.

I’m sorry, Akka! Anil called after Shruthi as he hurried to catch up to her. Shruthi didn’t say one word. All she could think of was getting to school on time.

Akka! Akka! cried Ashwini from behind them. Wait! Wait for me! Ashwini’s little legs were not able to run as fast as Shruthi and Anil. They both stopped for a minute until Ashwini caught up to them. Shruthi scooped up the three year old onto her hip and carried her. It was quite a sight as all three children were small for their ages and Shruthi was so thin. Ashwini’s legs dangled nearly to the ground as she quickly carried her like she had done so many times before. Shruthi carried Ashwini nearly the entire two kilometers to school only taking one small break to rest.

I’ll carry her the rest of the way, said Anil. It’s my fault we are late. Shruthi did not protest. Anil gave Shruthi his backpack and hoisted Ashwini, piggy-back style onto his back and carried her the rest of the way to the school.

All thirty-seven children were sitting straight and silent in their places, as the three sweaty children ran breathlessly into the classroom. They had quickly kicked off their shoes at the door, next to the others and tried to sneak unnoticed into the classroom.

All grades, from the smallest pre-schooler to the oldest 8th class student, were seated cross-legged on the floor in the one room school; youngest in the front, oldest in the back. The boys all sat on one side of the room, and the girls on the other, separated by one small aisle between them. The school master would walk up and down the aisle with his stick, making sure that everyone was behaving properly and obediently doing their lessons. There would be no fooling around in this classroom. Masteru would tap his stick on the floor in rhythm to the math and alphabet drills, as he paced back and forth, up and down the rows. Every child was attentive, as they feared the stick if they misbehaved.

All of Shruthi’s cousins were in their places holding their slates and facing the school master in the front of the room. It was impossible to sneak in, as the door to the class room was in the front, right next to the school master’s desk. Ashwini ran quickly to her place and sat down, clearly frightened. Shruthi took Anil by the hand and surveyed her cousin’s faces. They all looked very serious and worried; none of them daring to look at her.

Shruthi! came the thundering, authoritative voice of the school master. Shruthi jumped in fear and faced the school master. You are ten minutes late! He boomed. Why are you late this morning?