The Indian Way

Wajeda is unmoved by the attention. Seated on a charpai in her 8X10 ft room which houses 10 members of her family, she says softly, ‘‘Yeh sab Allah ka karam hai.’’ Bouquets and a trophy are displayed near the black and white television. Sister-in-law Zaika hurries through some cooking in a corner as her child wails. ‘‘Come, I’ll show you where I would study,’’ says Wajeda taking us to the small room above the shanty which is her brother Mushtaq’s workplace.

‘‘I would spend 12-14 hours with my books here,’’ she says. Meanwhile, a crowd gathers outside the house. ‘‘It’s been like this from the day the results were declared,’’ says father Mohammed, a peon in a city school. Mother Saleha is tired of buying sweet boxes for visitors who stream in. ‘‘She has done us proud,’’ she says, hugging her youngest daughter who now has an appointment book that lists the functions she has to attend. Meanwhile, a grocer at the end of the lane with a phone, dutifully passes on messages as well as calls her to attend the congratulatory calls.

An idol and a star in the vasti, her friends Shireen and Shamim Shaikh, who are now in Std X, want to give a ‘‘Wajeda performance’’. ‘‘We are already consulting her in various subjects,’’ they say. Adds Sakina Shaikh, a Std VII student, ‘‘She is our inspiration.’’

Having already secured admission at Abeda Inamdar College, Wajeda is now all set to do a repeat act.

PRASAD Prahlad Akkanouru, Nagpur
A runaway from a poor farmer’s home in rural Nagpur survived—and studied—as a waiter. Now, he’s home

AT the end there were prizes for both—a top rank for Prasad in the HSC Arts merit list of Nagpur division—and a reunion for the anxious family with their enfant terrible.

Prasad’s run from his brother Nandkishor’s home at Chakur town in Latur district in 2000, his subsequent stint as a waiter in a Nagpur hotel and his merit-list performance are already folklore of sorts.

‘‘Prasad is a very touchy guy. He would take everything to heart,’’ recalls R S Pandit, a partner at Hotel Satkar where Prasad was employed. ‘‘He worked during the night as a waiter, studying between calls from rooms where he changed bedsheets, served clients and even swept floors. No tuitions, no guides, nothing,’’ adds Pandit. ‘‘He never gave the impression he was such an intelligent boy.”

Father Prahlad, a simple farmer, thanks God for the reunion. ‘‘I have got everything,’’ Prasad’s brother Nandkishor quotes him as saying.

There have been celebrations in and around Chakur. ‘‘On our return from Nagpur with Prasad, people welcomed us with cracker-bursts right from Ahmedpur, 30 kms from Chakur. There have been over 100 felicitation programmes since then,’’ says Nandkishor. The biggest one is coming up at Chakur on July 6, where the Akkanourus’ guru Shivling Shivacharya Maharaj is coming along with a host of invitees, including politicians.

Offers have been pouring in. His Nagpur college proposed to finance his graduation. Pandit, too, offered the same. But Prasad continues to be his usual self. He has joined Fergusson College in Pune and has already got admitted to the IAS coaching classes run by social worker and former bureaucrat Avinash Dharmadhikari. ‘‘It’s a practical arrangement. My emotional association with Nagpur will continue,’’ says Prasad, an RSS admirer.

‘‘This boy will become someone in future,” says Pandit. “I have advised him to write his life story.’’

Tulsa, Punjab
Despite industrial noise and financial constraints, Tulsa made it to the top. Almost
There are no parks, fancy malls or pizza joints on the street that leads to Tulsa’s house. Instead, pot-holed roads, the whirr of heavy machinery and industrial sheds line the way.

The back door of the Hero Majestic production plant opens to reveal the side lane where Tulsa lives with her two brothers, and parents in a small, one room construction.

Tulsa was declared the topper of the Humanities group after she secured 89.11 per cent. But the next day, the board said she was actually second.

The family has not let this development come in the way. ‘‘So what if all the publicity and VIP visits ended abruptly, my daughter still remains a topper for me,’’ says mother Padmavati, a peon in the same school where Tulsa had been studying since Std V. ‘‘I didn’t want them to go through the drudgery their parents experienced, just because they could not get an education,’’ she adds.

Which spurred the young girl on. ‘‘Mother told us that whatever the circumstances, she would see to it that we were educated. And I worked hard so that I would not disappoint my parents,’’ says Tulsa. It meant studying late into the nights until her father, a watchman, came home, and waking up early to continue.

School Principal Mangat Ram Mehta is proud that Tulsa and three of her friends secured top positions without resorting to tuitions. ‘‘We knew these girls would turn out to be achievers and we are glad we could help them.’’

Help seems to be coming in from other quarters too. Satyanand Munjal, Managing Director, Hero Cycles, and management member of the BCM Senior Secondary School, said the institution would continue to help Tulsa in her education. Actor and Member of Parliament Sunil Dutt, who came to visit her, has also promised help.

Tulsa wants to become a teacher, but after topping the district, and coming second in the state, her friends are asking her to aim for something ‘higher’, like the civil services. Her immediate concern, however, just like any other student, is getting admission to a college. Just in case all the VVIPs forget their promises.

SUNIL SHETTY, Mumbai
Customers at the grocery store he worked in are now constantly asking for pedas. He never misses an opportunity to visit the temple and is obsessed with drawing colourful pictures of deities. A bright red tikka adorns his forever-creased forehead. But SSC night school topper Sunil Shetty’s family never knew what this devout 15-year-old was all about until suddenly one June morning, he made headlines.

Everyone who knows him is pleasantly surprised. ‘‘I never expected him to perform so well,’’ says Sunil’s maternal uncle and guardian, Sudhakar Shetty. He owns Priya Stores, a small grocery in the far-flung suburb of Naigaon, where Sunil worked during the day.

A student of the Shree Sarasvati Vidyalaya Night School and Junior College, Sunil arrived in Mumbai from Udipi in Karnataka three years ago. His father, Kumar Shetty, passed away in May 2003, leaving behind a wife, two daughters and Sunil.

‘‘He was very sincere. If he didn’t understand something, he’d chase the teacher right up to the station and insist on answers to his questions,’’ says headmaster, R K Deshpande.

The persistence paid off. After he topped, congratulatory messages poured in. ‘‘We burst firecrackers on that day,’’ his uncle recollects. Customers who visited Priya Stores regularly asked for pedas. ‘‘I bought seven kg and distributed them,’’ he says.

Sunil wants to become an aeronautical engineer. Financial assistance has begun pouring in from affluent members of the Bunt community.

While he is away visiting his mother, who tends to their little farm in Udipi and makes bidis for a living, in Naigaon, the notice board at the entrance of Rose Nagar proudly displays cuttings of newspaper reports featuring Sunil. Everyone in the area knows him. A neighbour shows off his connection with this local celebrity. ‘‘We live a couple of buildings away from Sunil’s house,’’ says Venkatesh Salian. ‘‘I know him very well. He is brilliant.’’ Salian’s seven-year-old daughter Swinal also chips in: ‘‘I also know Sunil.’’ Does she want to be like him? ‘‘Yes, of course,’’ her father says as she hides behind him, ‘‘maybe even defeat his score.’’
By Ramaninder K Bhatia/ Ludhiana; Sweta Ramanujan/ Mumbai; Vivek Deshpande/ Nagpur and Nisha Nambiar/ Pune