CONSOLIDATED ACADEMIC PROGRESS REPORT
EXAMINATION : UNIT TEST II              YEAR / /MONTH : Dec'06.
A. CONSOLIDATED CENTERWISE / CATEGORYWISE PROGRESS REPORT
		Number of children
Sr. no.	Category of children	Chanda-nwadi	Bhulesh - war	Worli	Bandra	Private tutions	Total children
1	General lot (1st to 11th std.)	66	68	463	163	0	760
2	Children attending bridge course	9	42	32	31	0	114
3	Pre-primary section	0	16	0	0	0	16
4	New Enterants	0	0	0	50	0	50
	Total no. of children	75	126	495	244	0	940
	Percentage	8%	13%	53%	26%	0%	100%
B. 1. CONSOLIDATED REPORT OF GENERAL BATCH OF STUDENTS
Sr. no.	Name of the centre	Level of performance			Reason for absenteeism				Total  children
		(Number of children)			(Number of children)
		(Poor)     0% to 35%	(Average)    36% to 60%	(Excellent)         61% to 100%	Children who were ill	Children temp. gone to village	Absent	Recent admis-sions
1	Chandanwadi	3	36	24	1	0	2	0	66
2	Bhuleshwar	11	41	3	3	9	1	0	68
3	Worli	59	209	162	7	8	12	6	463
4	Bandra	30	94	25	4	7	3	0	163
	TOTAL	103	380	214	15	24	18	6	760
	Percentage	14%	50%	28%	2%	3%	2%	1%	100%
B. 2. CONSOLIDATED REPORT OF CHILDREN ATTENDING BRIDGE COURSES
	EXAMINATION : UNIT TEST II              YEAR / /MONTH : Dec'06.
Sr. no.	Name of the centre	Level of performance			Reason for absenteeism				Total  children
		(Number of children)			(Number of children)
		(Poor)     0% to 35%	(Average)    36% to 60%	(Excellent)         61% to 100%	Children who were ill	Children temp. gone to village	Absent	Recent admis-sions
1	Chandanwadi	1	6	2	0	0	2	0	11
2	Bhuleshwar	2	17	19	2	2	0	0	42
3	Worli	1	7	18	1	1	4	0	32
4	Bandra	21	5	4	0	1	0	0	31
	TOTAL	25	35	43	3	4	6	0	116
	Percentage	22%	30%	37%	3%	3%	5%	0%	100%

HARDSHIPS DO NOT DISCOURAGE MANESH FROM CONTINUING WITH HIS STUDIES      

At Sunbeam, we have often shared with you the moving experiences that we frequently encounter in our daily interaction with children. Oftentimes, our monthly updates consist of reports detailing facts and figures on the performance of our kids, but their personal lives remain undisclosed.

Recently, we were traumatized by the heartbreaking story of Ganesh, who, despite the resolute efforts put in by the doctors, hospital staff, the team of community workers, teachers, managers and didi herself, ultimately succumbed to his illness. He fought bravely till he could and never complained. But eventually, the opponent proved stronger and our child lost the battle. However, the end was peaceful because of the abundant love, care and attention that he received from everyone during his last days. Besides, his earnest wish of meeting his stepmother and embracing his 2 year old stepsister was also fulfilled.  

 Though Ganesh’s story ended on a sad note, all other stories do not have to end in this way.  

‘Having decided to walk with our child beneficiaries, we must realize that it is a lifelong commitment. Once we take up their cause, we simply cannot abandon them. They find it extremely difficult to accept being deserted by the very people who once cared for them. The negative impact – both psychological and emotional – is immense if they find themselves neglected in their hour of need.’ With this belief firmly fixed in my mind, I set forth to unfold the story of Manesh, our 7^th std. student at the Chandanwadi center where I currently teach English.        

It is a dark and gloomy Sunday. The thick cloud cover is threatening to pour down any minute. So I hail a taxi and proceed. Steering past heavy loaded handcarts and avoiding the careless pedestrians, the taxi driver takes me to the main road at Kalbadevi. I easily locate Vasant wadi. I am told that Manesh stays in the first building but that building houses only commercial establishments. So I move to the next building – no. 413E. I enquire. “No, we do not know of any Manesh,” say all the kids in unison. Then I hear a child’s voice calling from inside one of the rooms on the ground floor, “Manesh, apne kamvali bai ka ladka….yaar, apne upar hi to rahata hai.” I need no further confirmation. Eagerly, I climb the steps, two at a time. I slow down suddenly. Is it age or the darkness inside the building that has slowed me down? I do not know. Again, it seems that there are only commercial establishments on the first floor. I make my way to the second floor. To my left I see a posh flat, the door to which is wide open. I am about to ask them…. but my query remains unfinished. “It’s Sir,” I hear a shout coming from my right. I turn and see a young face peeping at me through the half opened collapsible door. Why, it’s Akshay, Manesh’s younger brother! It’s almost 11o’clock and I have at last reached Manesh’s home ……. home?

On seeing me, Manesh hurriedly spreads a gunny bag in the tiny passage and invites me to sit on it. Right in front of me I find a steel cupboard and I know if I stretch my legs I would certainly bang them against the cupboard. “We keep our clothes in the cupboard,” Manesh informs me. To the left of the cupboard there is a closed door of a commercial establishment in front of which I see four to five vessels and a brass kerosene stove. As my eyes move to the right past the cupboard, Manesh’s eyes too follow mine. The nameplate on the door reads ‘Tech - Med – Devices.’ “They are all doctors.” “No, they make things that are used by doctors,” Manesh corrects his brother. To the right, a collapsible door rudely stops my trip further down the corridor. Behind the closed door I see piles of drums, corrugated boxes and some other material blocking the view as well as the air from the window. I notice that it’s raining outside – perhaps reflecting and commenting on the neglect inside the room. Behind me to the right there is a closed door of Rajesh Chemical Company. “Today being Sunday, the company is closed and you won’t get any obnoxious odour today,” Manesh informs me. On the left, the board reads ‘Suresh Jain, C.A.’ So this is their home - a corridor of 3 ft x 8 ft and that too only from 10 p.m. to 10 a.m. on week days – roughly a 12 hours dwelling!

Manesh’s mother is back home after completing her morning domestic chores of washing clothes and he introduces me to her. After the brief exchange of greetings, she excuses herself and returns back after obtaining water from the neighbours. She washes clothes and cleans utensils for the neighbourhood homes. How did they come here to live? And she begins to narrate all that took place – beginning with the comforts of their earlier home to this make-shift accommodation that offers little cheer or relief. 

They were happily living in a chawl at Malad (in the suburbs of Mumbai). Her eldest son Paresh was studying well in the sixth class, Manesh was enjoying his balwadi (kindergarten) and the youngest Akshay had just begun to say Ma and Ba. Everything was fine then – until one fine morning, the BMC demolished their unauthorized building. They were made to run from pillar to post, but never got the promised alternate accommodation. They lived for a year or two out in the open and the wilderness. Paresh turned a school drop out. In search of shelter, the family came here by chance some time in the late 90’s. Now they are allowed to stay here at nights, but have to vacate the place with their belongings as soon as the shops on their floor open in the morning around 10 o’clock – or sometimes even earlier. They can return only after the shops close late at night, which is 10.30 p.m. at the earliest. Dinner is cooked for the family after that and they sleep only much after midnight. 

“Even when we are ill there is no place where we can rest,” says Manesh’s father who has just come back for lunch. He works as a salesman in a saree shop where his main work is to display the sarees to the customers and rearrange them soon after they leave. “Often, his ‘seth’ tells him to clean the toilets,” says Akshay, and from the tone of his voice it is obvious he doesn’t like his father doing such a job. Taking a cue, I bring up the subject of education and how it would improve their future. Both the parents join in eagerly. They tell me that with great difficulty, they managed to get Manesh admitted in the BMC school way back in 2000 and how Sunbeam started helping him when he was in 4^th class or so. “Manesh is very clever,” says the mother proudly. “Akshay is clever too,” adds the father. “Yes, clever but mischievous,” the mother reminds us. They tell me how Manesh is doing well in the school, always standing first and winning several prizes elsewhere as well. I am told that he has been selected for the scholarship examination too. “Does the school help him for the scholarship examination by providing books or extra coaching?” I inquire. “No, Manesh will manage on his own as he has always done, by taking help from his friends and going to any of their houses for studying. Maybe, you people could help him.” Both the parents are keen that Manesh and Akshay continue their studies well beyond the X std. But they are also keeping their fingers crossed and hoping for the best. Whenever the shop owners see their children, they bother them with questions like, “When are you leaving this place?” So the kids are packed off to their native place during the vacations.

‘Don’t the children ever play? Don’t they have any hobbies?’ I wonder. Their indoor games are very simple. They play X and 0 on paper and even make paper boats, is what I’m given to understand. “Don’t they play with the children of the building?” I probe slightly.  “Who would like to play with our children?” says the father, with a hint of sadness and regret in his voice. May be, it has to do with the attitude and mindsets of the well-to-do neighbours. However, on Sundays, Manesh goes to the neighboring lane to play cricket