Soon we will celebrate another anniversary of our repu­blic, a republic o­s­t­ensibly of the people, for the people, by the people. But is that the reality? I doubt it.

Mahatma Gandhi said that if we wished to create a better tomorrow for our people we should start with our children today. But let’s look at how hopeless today is for our children.

Atul is 12 years old, born to migrant labourers, the you­ngest of four children. His pa­rents chase work throughout the year in three states — Maharashtra, Andhra Pra­desh and Karnataka. The economics of the family is such that to feed every mouth all hands must work. Atul has worked shoulder to shoulder with his family since he was eight ye­ars old. He worked as a labo­urer in brick kilns for six mo­nths in a year. He is paid Rs 17 for every thousand bricks he carries. As an eight-year-old he managed to carry 10 bricks at a time, now, four years later, he carries 16 bricks at a time. As a result of carrying such heavy loads on his head, the top of Atul’s skull has become perfectly flat.

Manisha is 14, the second child of immigrant labourer parents. When her mother died, Manisha and her elder brother were pushed out of the home to start earning for the family. Manisha became a domestic worker.

Her alcoholic father would beat her savagely and snatch her earnings. One day Manisha ran away and landed up in Kolhapur. And became a street child. She refuses to reveal anything about that period of her life. One can see pain and trauma in Manisha’s eyes, there is no room for dr­eams in them.

Jatin ran away from abusive parents when he was ten and became a street child in Kolhapur. He survived by do­ing any odd job he could. Ma­ny a times he was sexually ab­used. He learnt to protect hi­mself by offering weaker childr­en as bait; he even made mo­ney by providing children to abusers. Jatin is now 14 years of age and he severely lacks social skills. The only relationship he is capable of is one exploitative in nature. The abuse he suffered as a child has made him in turn abuse those weaker than him.

Atul, Manisha and Jatin are fortunate; they were rescued by a voluntary organisation working with children in peril. They now live in a secure shelter provided by the NGO with forty other children, the fortunate ones. But for every Atul, Manisha and Jatin there are hundreds of thousands of ch­i­l­dren on our mean streets who lead severely imperilled lives, used, exploited and ab­used mercilessly.

I started off asking whose republic we are. As an independent, sovereign republic, we have a constitution, we ha­ve an elected government to make policies and laws that should govern and protect us. We have a law that makes ch­ild labour a criminal offe­nce, but those who exploit ch­ildren don’t care. We have a law making it compulsory for girls to be sent to school, but Manisha’s never been to a school. The anti-child-labour law did not rescue Manisha, nor did the compulsory education policy send her to school. For the government, Manisha do­es not exist. The people who hired Atul to work as a labourer in the brick kiln ar­en’t prosecuted.

If it weren’t for the dedicated NGO, Jatin would have turned into a hardened criminal. The government has several laws to protect children against molesters and sexual abuse but thousands of innocent children fall prey to deviants and sociopaths. The police is too busy protecting VIPs to be bothered about protecting children.

I write this to illustrate how alienated our rulers have become from us and the reality of our existence. They don’t care about us. Once they get our votes, they are not bothered for the next five years.

This was illustrated recently during the debate on the Lokpal Bill, especially in the Rajya Sabha where it was eventually defeated. It was defeated not because it was deficient, its defeat was ensured because no one among the political class wanted it to become a law. It did not matter to them that the entire republic wanted a law to punish and curb corruption; the people would have accepted a weak, deficient law to begin with, too. But the political class were not bothered; collectively they sabotaged the bill and trampled the expectations of the very people who elected them. While sabotaging the Lokpal Bill they forgot that they were people’s representatives, ele­cted to work for the people, with the consent of the people and by the will of the people.

How can one then expect them to provide a better today for Atul, Manisha and Jatin and millions of those who are the future of our republic. Those who are deprived of a ‘today’ will never be able to dream of a ‘tomorrow’. I am reminded of the title of a book written by the South African anti-apartheid activist Allan Paton, Cry My Beloved Country. Our political class has left us with no other option than to weep.

(The writer is founder president, Mahatma

Gandhi Foundation)