During the first phase of my service life, I worked as a private tutor at an old orphanage for a few months. There were 50 orphan boys and girls. Girls were of the age group of 5 to 14 - favorite regular students of a nearby established school. Apart from teaching them English and Bengali language, my duty was to give them enthusiasm for creative thinking and performance. My duty was confined to the girls' section only. Not too easy was the task. I had to deal with them, to tackle them. The first bell rang to see whether the girls were inside the room. The second was for their taking breakfast. In this way, ding dong ding dong went the bell up to the closing hours at 9 O'clock night. The duration and type of ringing of the Bell sounded different from one to another. And the residents would understand this. Sometimes warning bell was heard. It continued for 2 minutes at stretch. It was the indication of something wrong in the complex. Each pupil would come out from their cabin and stand in a queue. After 2 or 3 minutes they were asked to go back to their platform. The man who would ring the bell was deaf and dumb and one-eyed. Except for his coming out for this purpose, never I saw him twice throughout the day. The girls would term this ringing sound as PAGLA GHONTA (A lunatic bell).
An open blackboard was there, where the pupils could write or sketch out anything. Pictures of great men of Bengal and India were hanging in the office room. A huge stock of books was there. But I saw nobody looking wonderfully at those. Sometimes the men in charge would take some books from there and later return.
To me, the first two days were agonizing and frustrating. Coming closer is far off, the kids did not pay heed to me at all. My presentation of sulk and anger acted as an antidote. And from the third day, it was their love for me that made it possible to do my job, to do something for them benevolently.
It was a decent-looking two-storeyed large building with a small playground, smaller flower garden, small auditorium, some greeneries inside, separate bath and toilets, kitchen, dining hall, etc. The directors the helpers the cooks and others were also of amiable nature. Annual sports and cultural festivals would be there too. I knew a little about the policies of ins and outs, of the running of the institution. But I was sure, help from the government as well as some generous persons and some charitable trusts backed the institution. In short, it was running well and I saw how humanity is being served.
I was always encircled by a total of 14 girls. All of them were not serious about their studies. Those not were interested in sports, handicrafts, etc.
I was their ‘Miss’. As the main gate was under lock and key, they could not go out. This is a fact of course. But from inside the campus, they used to call the pedestrians to stop for a while and talk to them. And they started talking unnecessarily. They were not gentle and well-mannered. They wanted money and demanded food, chocolates, etc. Of course, the gatekeeper had a keen eye over them. Thanks to him a lot for being so forbearing. Needless to say, they were naughty. There were rules but nobody to teach them ethical knowledge. They were very much interested to hear horror stories of which I knew a little. However, I continued the traditional Bengali horror stories
Amongst all the girls I can recall one who was the seniormost of them and was a student of class V. With brilliancy in her eyes, she had also good merit. Goldy was not exactly a Tomboy, but must I say, she was a bit daring. At times, she climbed over the wall and the guava tree. She did not give any importance to the opposition. Like a leader of all the juniors, she talked and sang loudly. But I became able enough to control her. My words chilled her. She followed me in ditto what I said. Her obedience to me caught the sight of all like a monitress of all the kids she talked and sang in a voice that always made others feel stupid. The errors and stupidity at this tender age were normal. I heard, at school also she was a backbencher. And never was her school performance superb. But she had the privilege of getting absolute priority in her studies. She always crossed the bar of annual exams with the kind consideration of the teachers and she thought of those events as success.
One day I caught her red-handed while climbing down from a tree, took to my arms and said to her: Goldy, you are a nice girl, I like to ask you some questions. With a quick intervention her reply was: Aunty, ask me no question, I will tell you no lies. I wondered; how could she know this English proverb! Or has she gone through "She stoops to conquer"? No, nay. It can never be possible. Yet for a while, I felt puzzled and lost myself in the far seas with tempestuous waves. However, I regained my senses and could understand what she liked to say. I answered: my request, please give up all stupidity and study more. You will have to stand on your own feet like me. What was her realization still I cannot guess. But since then, she stood first always keeping herself under my guidance and drawing the attention of her mates and teachers. But her idiosyncrasies were going on. Eventually, some realizations were bestowed on me. I realized their love for me, but I was not enough qualified or not in a position to bring them into the mainstream of life. I could easily spend my time with them that is true, but that was of little productive value for them. At day's end when I returned to my home, an unexpected sense of repentance used to engulf me. Was I doing the best for them? Or had I the capability to deal with these tiny stars? The answer echoed in my mind: no. I decided to give up the job. Accordingly, I gave up.
Meanwhile, I earned their admiration and love a lot. Yet I bade them adieu. Thereafter I maintained no link with the orphanage.
After 6 months, the authorities called me over the phone and requested me to pay a visit immediately. I hurried to the spot and saw an assembly near the toilet. The door was locked from inside. Only Goldy's cries were being heard. The lone lady helper also was standing speechless. Feeling my presence there Goldy shouted: Miss, let everyone leave first. When she was assured that nobody was there, Goldi slightly opened the door and dragged me inside. "I am here, in this room for two hrs. I cannot call anybody, cannot show anybody. I feel abdominal pain and clots of blood are being passed with urine. I am sure to die. Why did you leave in this way? Now who will save me" The crying of hers and the signs of profuse bleeding made me at a loss. But within a short period, I understood the problem. I consoled her, dressed her up well and for about an hour I gave her lessons on the life-cycle. She was ashamed and stunned, and at the same time, her expressions indicated a strong determination to establish herself in the future as an anxiety-less happy, and independently self-established girl. “I shall make no more nuisance from today. Miss, allow me once to call you Mom. “The emotional girl cried out "M O M...!" I embraced her. “God bless you. Advance. Labor hard to do the best in your exams..." saying so, I left.
The story could end here. But not over yet.
After a long gap of 12 years, while I was working as a teacher at a High school in Shamshergunj, a village under North 24 Parganas, West Bengal, my school administrative authority organized a program on health and hygiene; to boost it up they invited a social activist group. The program ended well. But while that was going on, I saw Goldy on the stage. Although was confused a bit, Goldy recognized me very well. I saw her in that spotlight. She immediately got down from the stage and to my surprise, she embraced me and said “Miss, Mom, can you remember me? There was an orphanage, I was there as a residential boarder and that is why I got your touch. You see, I am an established one, completed my Diploma in Human Rights after completing Graduation and now I am a social activist. Where had you been so long? Mom here is my phone number. Please give me yours too.’’ She spoke in a single breath. Her brilliant eyes were becoming watery. My cheeks glittered with happy tears. Pride filled my heart. I gave her my phone number and simply wished her more victory in the future and left the place in an undesignated way. I could not sleep that night because of the unprecedented meet and joy of the unexpected success of an orphan girl, whom I saw and tried to guide. who was my student once and by whose purely personal side, I could stand by the grace of God... I felt so grateful to that orphanage. I uttered to my mind: Long live the love of men for humanity, long live.
Thankfully I could remember:
No tear is so bright as the tear that flows.,
For erring women's unpitied woes
And blest be for his honoured name
Who shelters an orphan from sorrow and pain
...An Orphan Girl
(H.L.V Derozio)