This is a story of buttons. Needle and thread. Coconut oil. One comb. Pencils. One pocket mirror, to be used turn by turn.These items may not count as scientific parameters to pin down a region’s human development index. But this summer, I met a school inspector who had squinted through clouds of dust to urge his motorcycle up a bald hill to get to a school in remote Maharashtra. And he knew better.To him, Dongripada’s HDI spreadsheet was waiting to be retrieved from its two school rooms for four standards. It was inspection day but the school had not worked its students into a clean-up and study-hard frenzy of preparation.In this desolate belt of land, wracked by hunger and malnourished parents and children, Inspector Kolhe asked a student to recite the alphabet. The child tugged at his open shirt botched with a remarkable variety of stains. A Standard II student could not read. ‘‘Well, he does not own a textbook, Sir,’’ said Teacher Raju. The student who could not write had no money to buy a pencil.‘‘I don’t have the heart to scold them,’’ Kolhe said, giving up the question and no-answer session. It was time to set aside teaching for humanitarian aid.In the school register, Kolhe wrote that the students were so poor they wore filthy shirts with buttons that had long gone missing. They said their mothers had no needle and thread to fix buttons, and sent them to school without a bath. A pencil at 50 paise was too expensive for them.So Kolhe and Teacher Raju (a multi-tasker who also gives free haircuts to the boys) made a shopping list: 12 pencils. One ruler (to be shared). One packet of white plastic buttons. One small bottle of coconut oil. One comb. One pocket mirror.‘‘When you come to school, look in the mirror we will buy for you,’’ said Kolhe. ‘‘Ask Guruji for hair oil and comb. Apply it, comb your hair and then sit for class.’’‘‘If your shirt has no buttons, ask Guruji to stitch them on,’’ he instructed. ‘‘If you know how to use needle and thread, borrow it from the school cupboard. Don’t feel shy.’’The logistics were steep: Rs 25-plus for the entire shopping. Could they wait for the next school grant to make its way uphill? No.So Kolhe and Teacher dipped into their pockets. They counted a thin bundle of notes between them, and decided it was time to go shopping. Emergency aid could, perhaps, add some dignity to Dongripada’s HDI.
