[cr-india] ALT.RADIO.BROADCASTING: Direct to home... vignettes from Delhi

[Frederick Noronha (FN)]

D I R E C T   T O   H O M E

WHERE WOULD HOMELESS
CHILDREN BROADCAST
THEIR VIEW OF THE WORLD?
THE STREETS, OF COURSE,
SAYS SOPAN JOSHI

[Down to Earth, March 30, 2004 issue]

FEBRUARY 10, 2004 / NEW DELHI RAILWAY STATION: UNSUSPECTING PASSENGERS. A 
Toyota Qualis stops in front of a series of indomitable white Ambassador 
cars in the VIP parking lot. 'Butterflies Broadcasting Children' (BBC), 
declares a yellow banner. About 10 children and an adult step out and 
begin to set up a public address system with a studied, though amateur, 
efficiency. And the public address system begins to blare.

It sounds like a radio programme. A signature tune is followed by 
interviews on what people think about street children. Then there is a 
song, the lyrics of which include *aish kari tummne / paida hue hum... * 
(you had a good time / and we were born...) 

Bystanders are curious. Sunil Kumar, the adult accompanying the children, 
informs they are from Butterflies, a non-governmental organisation (NGO) 
with several projects for street children and child workers. It also helps 
them make their own radio programmes.

The 'correspondents' zip out voice recorders to interview bystanders. Some 
are sympathetic. Others are cynical. But when a mike is projected, stray 
remarks become more circumspect. The situation has all the symptoms of a 
discussion.

SAME DAY / KAROL BAGH: TRAFFIC OF IDEAS: The lanes are too congested for 
the Toyota. So a rickshaw is hired and the speakers mounted. Several 
street children outside the BBC fold join them. The crowd swells. The 
rickshaw leaves behind a trail of murmurs. Several mini-discussions begin 
over cups of tea at tea stalls. A young boy working at a stall steals a 
few moments to hear. The stall owner screams out his name and he runs 
back. The broadcast is a runaway success.

SAME DAY / HANUMAN MANDIR: CHARGE OF THE LIGHT BRIGADE: It is Tuesday, the 
day of Hanuman, the trouble-shooter of the Hindu pantheon. The BBC van 
stops close to a long queue of garland-wielders. Some street children from 
the neighbourhood see this as a breach of territory. Most are visibly high 
on narcotics. Soon, a heated scuffle breaks out between two eunuchs. 
Policemen try to separate them, but with a distanced caution. The BBC 
broadcast is lost in the din. There's is a call that even Hanuman doesn't 
seem to answer. The radio journalists move on.

FEBRUARY 11 / A NIGHT SHELTER IN OKHLA: THE EDITORIAL MEETING: Foot odour 
assaults the nasal passage as about 20 BBC children take off their 
footwear to join the BBC editorial meeting. There are those who ran away 
from having to go to school. And those (like Anuj of Ghaziabad) who ran 
away because relations won't let him attend school. A chubby Arun ran away 
from his house in Agra after his mother beat him. Pawan of Jaipur escaped 
from home after a fight with his father. And so have Imran, Bilal, Sonu, 
Sahir...

Anuj, a sensitive and well-read boy, chairs the meet. It is obvious who is 
the first among equals in BBC -- Pappu, 16, is a veritable Healthcliffe. 
Dark, broody and temperamental, he has an air of seriousness that is 
intimidating. He snaps at noisy children, asking them to leave if they 
don't want to participate.

The first item on the agenda is a review of the last programme. Pappu says 
it would help to change the content of the otherwise repetitive tape. 
Deepak suggests they should do more detailed interviews with severely 
abused street children.

Ritu and Priya -- schoolgirls who work part-time for BBC -- complain they 
have to do most of the interviews. Arun rebuts that, saying people talk 
all too readily when interviewed by girls. He gives the example of how an 
old man misbehaved with him at the Jama Msajid. Sonu, every fidgety and 
mischevious, says he should have given the old man back as good as he got. 
Then there is a discussion on people to interview for the next programme. 
There is mention of how N Ram, editor-in-chef of *The Hindu*, stood them 
up at the World Social Forum in Mumbai. 0 are allocated, 
deadlines argued over.

FEBRUARY 17 / KASHMIRI GATE AND JAMA MASJID: ON THE RECORD. The 
station-in-charge of the Inter Stat Bus Terminal, sub-inspector Harish 
Chander, is hesitant and in a hurry. But he relents. Why are street 
children afraid of the police, he is asked. Most of them are runaways, and 
they fear the police would send them back, he answers. The station house 
officer of Jama Masjid police station, Gir Raj Singh, says street children 
are often involved in petty crime. The BBC interviewer asks him about 
white-collar crime. Political correctness ensues.

Pappu steps out and recalls policemen snatching his money. At a very 
young age, he started coming to Delhi from Katihar with his parents, daily 
wage labourers. Four years ago, his mother died in a rail accident, her 
body badly dismembered. His father turned to begging, and disappeared soon 
after. Since then, he has been on the street. He narrates stories of how 
street children get sexually abused by either elder children or 
paedophiles who lure them with food. 

"It is difficult to get food; much easier to get drugs." He talks freely 
about the various intoxicants he used, the petty thefts he committed to 
watch films. But all that is behind him now. He is a BBC radio journalist 
by the day and a rag picker by night. Why? "I don't get any money for 
this, only the expenses are met. I do this for the sake of my self, for 
dignity, for children who might go through what I underwent." 

He stops to note that there is a wedding happening in the park adjoining 
his night shelter in Fatehpuri. "There is money to be made tonight, 
cleaning the rubbish," he hopes. Then, he realises, two of the reporters 
are lost in the crowd. He goes looking for them.

FEBRUARY 19 / BUTTERFLIES OFFICE, GREEN PARK EXT; MEDIATORS: Shahid Jamal 
is from the Jamia Millia Islamia's Mass Communication Research Centre. He 
is here to help the BBC children in post-production and pre-production 
duties, and is teaching them non-linear sound editing on the computer.

He admits that the language the children use in their programmes is very 
formal, not very good for communication on the street. But, he explains, 
they are associated with an NGO that has to use the formal language. 
Besides, Jamal loathes the non-serious language used by (commercial) FM 
radio stations.

Rita Panicker, director of Butterflies, is well aware of the language 
problem. She has arranged for professionals from the other BBC, the 
British Broadcasting Corporation, to train the butterflies radio team. She 
is a great believers in the power of the radio: "It can reach the 
illiterate. It is more powerful than television because the content is 
paramount; visuals take pre-eminence in TV." She was inspired after 
meeting the founder of a radio station in New York called *Kids for Kids*.

"We had approached All India Radio, and they showed interest. But they 
work by slots, and they don't have one for programmes made by children." 
She plans to launch a community radio station. But the licensing for that 
is very difficult -- clearance is required from six Union ministries. At 
the Indian Institute of Mass Communications, professors don't  know of any 
NGO that has a community radio license. In fact, the institute is awaiting 
its own community radio license. ( *** )

Contact Butterflies butterflies at vsnl.com