Fifty years ago, India marched bravely on to its tryst with destiny.

The future lay before it, burnished with the brass polish of hope, of promise.

Fifty years later, the hope has been corroded by despair, the promise annulled by mass negligence.

Or has it? Is the mood of mass cynicism, of all-pervasive despair, really justified?

Is there -- really, truly -- no hope left?

That seems to be the consensus -- but we disagree. Because to yield to despair would be to forget one basic truth of that long ago day when India grasped its destiny with both hands.

And that truth is this -- it may be true that the Gandhis and Nehrus and Patels and Ambedkars and others led the nation towards the goal of Independence. But what really made it possible was the selfless sacrifice, the commitment, the belief and faith, of hundreds of thousands of citizens as ordinary as you and me.

That was our biggest strength then -- and it remains our biggest asset today.

For every corrupt politician and apathetic bureaucrat, there are a hundred citizens working, in their quiet, unassuming fashion, to put a smile on someone's face, to improve the quality of someone's life, to take Life by the hand and lead it one step forward towards the light.

And it is those little people we focus on here, in Project Hope. On them and their little lives and little achievements. Because it is there -- in these little people with big hearts -- that the real promise of this country rests.

Presenting the second in the series: Snehanilaya

Project Hope/Archana Masih

Candles In The Wind

Like all three-year-olds, Mini lives in innocent, infant ignorance. Unaware that it is her birthday today. Unaware that she has been living away from her mother for nearly a year.

Unaware that she is HIV+.

But she vaguely understands that her mother, "A full blown AIDS case," will come to see her today. And Mini’s mother – even though she is gravely ill – does arrive early in the afternoon.

No sooner does the jeep stop that three dusty women tumble out after a three-hour journey. Hair unkempt, carrying bags of toys and a box of cake. Mini’s mother, in her mid-twenties, scans the little faces that come to greet her, looking beyond with anticipated excitement for that one face that is hers.

Momentarily tear stained, that face gives a small peek from Sister Shanti’s sari pallu. The mother breaks into a trot and bundles her child in her arms.

A bitter sweet reunion – with permanent separation ahead.

Mini is one of thirteen children living in suburban Bombay’s St Catherine’s Home -- an institution run by the Daughters of the Cross order -- which houses 322 girls. Mostly orphans, many of the inmates are recommended by the state juvenile court or Bal Vikas, a non government organisation working in the area of adoption.

In September 1996, the home inaugurated a section for HIV infected children, and named it Snehanilaya -- an abode of love. "Once I happened to be in the juvenile court. The proceedings concerned a HIV+ child. The judge asked if any institution was ready to take up the child, there came no response. It was then that I thought of starting a section for such children," says Sister Superior Rohini Fernandes.

After several discussions with the 20-odd nuns at the home, lectures from AIDS counsellors, doctors and extensive reading on the subject, Snehanilaya started with a two-year-old, pale and poorly nourished girl abandoned at a local railway station. "She had been placed in a home for destitutes. We finished the renovation as late as 10 pm on September 7, and we already had a child in our care," recalls Sister Shanti Remedios, the nun who is in charge of Snehanilaya.

A trained nurse, Sister Shanti received basic training in AIDS care from the Maharashtra government-run J J Hospital before starting the home. Another nun and two housekeepers help her look after the children. "It’s a full time job," she says, "their feeds, changing nappies, there is always something to be done. So we take shifts."

A big, colourful nursery, spread over two floors and surrounded with trees, Snehanilaya presently has 13 children. The youngest is just 10 months old, the oldest is nine. The older children go to a Marathi school on the campus. A neat segregation divides the infants and toddlers from the rest.

Small cradles, big cradles, small chairs and tables, small potties, small toys, big toys, the familiar smell of baby powder. On a pin board are pictures of each child with their date of birth. "In cases where we don’t know their birthdays, we pick a date from the month they were admitted to the home," says Sister Shanti.

Since the home is essentially an institution for girls, there are only two boys at Snehanilaya. One of whom was given up for adoption after he tested HIV negative. "There were two children who tested negative after they came here," reveals Sister Rohini.

While Vivek was adopted, Regina is still waiting for her relatives to take her home. "Neither are they taking her away nor have they informed us if we can give her for adoption," adds Sister Shanti.

When children are separated early from their infected mothers, she says they have a 30 per cent exposure to the disease. "So there are better chances of building up an immune system. With good nourishment and medicines they can show tremendous improvement," she continues.

Although the children remain unaware of the nature of the disease, they know in case of any small cuts they have to wash the wound with water and come straight home. Blood tests are done every three months and weights checked every month.

The kitchen, partly divided into a small dispensary of sorts, has a large medicine rack. Syringes, gloves, antibiotics, bandages…each shelf is clearly marked. In one corner stands a small table where a nun liberally douses a child with powder. "Children often come here with scabies," she says.

Sometimes, it is worse. Bed sores, eyelids fused with pus, some like corpses. "Since these children are mostly abandoned at railway stations and hospitals, they are in a miserable state," Sister Shanti continues, "Even if they are placed in other institutions, nobody wants to touch them."

Both nuns think there are many misplaced notions about AIDS in India. "There exists a lack of awareness, even with doctors, nurses and hospitals that results in a wrong attitude towards the disease," says Sister Rohini who holds the media responsible for this to a large extent.

At the home, the rooms are fumigated each month, all nappies are boiled and disinfected gloves are worn when applying medicines to bleeding wounds or treating kids with diarrhoea.

"Diarrhoea, colds, fever, chest congestion are common infections contracted by these kids. These ordinary ailments tend to make them very miserable," says Sister Shanti. An upset tummy or a cold, if left untreated, can bring the child down for a couple of days.

Snehanilaya has two doctors who visit regularly. Sister Shanti is also trying magnet therapy, where water is kept near a magnet overnight and given to the children to drink the following day. "If it helps, there’s no harm trying it out," she reasons. Meanwhile, the home has received news from a doctor in Dehradun who is ready to treat ten children for free if a detailed blood report is mailed to him.

Though no child has been hospitalised for any serious illness yet, the nuns know such a need will arise soon. A thought which leaves them distinctly uncomfortable. "Our personal experience tells us that medical help for AIDS patients is not very forthcoming. A few months ago, we had some commercial sex workers living in the home for six months. Rescued from brothels, some of them had AIDS. When we took one of them to the hospital, we were just referred from one hospital to another," explains Sister Rohini. "Sometimes even doctors tell us, ‘Sister we know the theory, you tell us the experiment.’ "

They, however, know that when these children reach an advanced stage of their illness, such problems will have to be tackled again. "We are trying to build associations with doctors who could help us get treatment for these kids later. Till then we ourselves are experimenting and learning," she continues.

The nuns believe in the nutritional value of fresh vegetables, pulses and sprouts. Coupled with Calcium, Vitamin A and C, the health of these children, they say proudly, have shown enormous improvement. "We are told these children can live up to 10 to 12 years, but I am sure they will live longer," says Sister Shanti confidently.

Snehanilaya has not turned away any children yet. But the nuns want to restrict the number to twenty children and as a policy will not admit adults. "With menstruating girls, the little ones could be more exposed to infection," explains Sister Rohini. However, the home will open a section to rehabilitate child prostitutes later this year and an HIV testing facility is to be added to the institution soon.

Apart from the Rs 500 per month received as a government grant for each child, the home is sustained by donations from private institutions and individuals. The Rotary Club helped with a contribution of Rs 60,000 to set up the home. "People would rather help with money than be directly involved with the home's activities. Thankfully, we haven’t had to buy any clothes or toys. All have been donated," says Sister Shanti, showing us a big cupboard full of Sunday clothes.

"What is difficult is getting physical assistance. We have been looking for a nurse, but have been unsuccessful. One who did agree, left the next day," she continues, "The other helpers that we have here have come from Bihar."

For Sister Shanti, who has been working with children for seven years, these kids are special. She lives in a small room adjacent to the infants dormitory and takes the children for an outing once in a while. A few days ago, her father came to live in the cottage for three months and last week the children spent the afternoon at his home. "We want these children to be loved and happy. Theirs is a short life."

Till then, often dressed in her beige salwar-kurta she goes about the home with her small team. Grateful to God for small mercies…those anti-mosquito meshes for the windows… that carton of Lactogen…the bird cage…

There are other things to do too. Papaya trees to be planted, perhaps a garden to be developed, a turtle and love birds to be acquired… Those little pleasures of a childhood which will be too short for some. Snehanilaya wants to give its children many such little things wrapped in love and happiness.

For Sister Shanti’s little children with little lives, this could be their best medication.

All the children's names have been changed to protect their privacy. Photographs: Jewella C Miranda