I t's pronounced Ov-ver-come," says 17-year-old Maherra Khambaty, mouthing the words to a group of teenage girls who are learning to bite their v's and round their w's.

It's something Khambaty learnt in Class IV at her English medium school but the difference between the syllables is lost on most of the girls, all of whom studied in Urdu and Marathi medium schools.

A mass crooning of We Shall Overcome follows, and the tune momentarily bridges the two disparate worlds the students straddle - that of their mother tongues and that of English. "This song is Hum Honge Kamyaab, from the movie Jaane Bhi Do Yaaro," pipes up 15-year-old Shabana Shaikh. The song is symbolic of what 120 girls like Shaikh are aiming to achieve an equal standing with their Englishspeaking peers when they enter mainstream colleges.

It is a crucial goal for these girls, who come from underprivileged backgrounds, live in crowded chawls, and belong to large families surviving on meagre incomes. Most of their fathers work as tailors, scrap dealers or construction workers, some of their mothers as domestic maids. As they await their SSC results, they carry with them the baggage of gender biases they have been subjected to and the gnawing feeling that their lack of English skills will place them at a disadvantage in college.

But they are determined to change that feeling. Every morning, they file into the YWCA building in Andheri, where a bunch of teachers and volun teers give wings to their dreams. "Over these two months, they won't gain mastery of English, but they will lose some of their inhibitions and fears, and will go to college more confident," says Lalitha Dhara, a volunteer with the YWCA who conceptualised the programme.

A screening of The Lion King in English, a game of Simon Says, a class on the human anatomy, and a debate on arranged vs love marriages, are just some of the subjects that are part of the experience for these teenagers. Khambaty, a volunteer from St Xavier's College, and almost the same age as many of the girls, remarks on the difference between her own life experiences and theirs. "My friends and I are all about going out and having fun, but these girls come from backgrounds where housework and responsibility are real issues. We think Mumbai city is so cool, but life is hard for them," she says. "Some wrote the same Class 12 exams as I did this year. The gap between us is huge but they are no less intelligent than those who studied in English; their horizons just need to be broadened," she points out.

A month into the programme, a sense of independence has been instilled. "I want to become a brain surgeon because my father was a doctor," says 14-year-old Dakshata Choudhary, one of five siblings supported by an older brother, who studied at Vidya Mandir School in Marathi medium.

The bias against students from Indian-language schools is evident when Sunita Thokle, a 15-year-old who studied in the Marathi medium, says simply, "I will be treated better in malls and restaurants if I speak in English." Thokle, who writes poems and plays in Marathi and Hindi, says she hopes to do so in English too.

Even though the programme is ideally for girls who have appeared for the Board exams this year, some, like Sheetal Yadav, are enrolling sooner. Yadav, a Class VIII student, lost her father a few years ago and her mother supports the family by sewing garments. "I want to become an English teacher. I have already taught my mother a few sentences in English, like ‘I live in Andheri' or ‘I am going home,' " she says, grinning.

Some girls are drawn by the fun and games, says volunteer Britta Fremstad (23), an American on a sevenmonth sabbatical in Mumbai. The girls have taken to her - in a game of Chinese Whispers, a sentence is constructed amid giggles and nudges: "Britta ma'am looks better than Aishwarya Rai."

Educator Vimla Raichur is ecstatic that the girls' dreams are taking flight. "If they learn the basics of English today, I'm sure their children will be fluent in the language," says Raichur.

Some girls are here just to enjoy the freedom. Like Shabana Shaikh, who lives in a crowded chawl and looks forward to her morning getaway: "There is so much space here; it helps me think."

URL:  http://epaper.hindustantimes.com/artMailDisp.aspx?article=11_05_2008_009_004&typ=0&pub=264