I was 16 when I joined an NGO that gave education to underprivileged students. My very first day was in Dharavi - Mumbai. As my taxi went through the road deeper and inside the lanes of Dharavi, I could feel the Mumbai which is shown in movies and which is written in books is gone far away. The place I was in was full of life. It looked like the scene where ants are working together in places everywhere. Every house had ladders and life built upon life, families lived upon families. I was directed to a room where I was supposed to teach the kids. I passed door after door. Doors that were open wide. Houses had women working on sewing machines, creaking table fans, swings made of saree for just born kids, piles of vessels filled with water and small photographs on the walls with garland on them. In the rooms of 10*10 square feet, people created homes. The room I entered had no roof. Walls were broken. It had a black board and a chair. One hour went by, nobody showed up. Just when I was...
A journey through the Ghettos of India