Is it her story, or mine? Is it their story, or ours? Whose story is it, when paths cross, when hearts touch, when lives are changed forever by a seemingly random encounter?
Yes, these questions are more than a little leading, I know! They deliver us straight away to our heart’s knowing that stories are shared, that stories are the ‘tellings’ of life as it arises, as it unfolds in relationship. So I would like to share with you how I first came to meet Sunita and her little family, how her life came to touch mine, and now in turn, how their lives have come to touch all of us....
First of all, I am surprised to tell you that I have only known Sunita since 2008 ! It feels as though I have known her for a much longer time, yet it was not until my third trip to India that our paths crossed. Accompanied by my dear friend Nagin, I ventured into Bihar to visit the region of India where the Buddha lived, and taught the Dharma. So in February of 2008, following a long overnight train ride, we found ourselves ensconced in a modest but new hotel in the heart of Bodh Gaya.... hungry, tired and with large amounts of very dirty laundry! Our hotel clerk informed us that the hotel had no laundry service, but that there was a lady across the street who ran a small laundry. We gathered our belongings and stepped outside to find this place, but could see nothing that resembled a ‘laundry.’ The hotel clerk saw our perplexity, and stepped out to point us towards a dusty plastic shack that blended invisibly into the rubble along the roadside. Sure enough, on closer look, there were clothes lines strung between trees, and the entrance held a white, padded table, propped up and leveled with bricks. Mounded baskets of clothing sat outside and in the doorway.
On first glance there appeared to be no one there; but as we walked closer I could see a bright spot in the dark interior.... a small ball of hot pink and turquoise held the center of the space. As we approached, the ball unfolded; it grew to reveal a tiny woman with dark, bright eyes..... kind eyes.... intelligent eyes. She had been crouching in the center of the shack, fanning a small coal fire that burned on an earthen stove.... on the red embers sat a hand iron, warming.....
We had found the laundry! We laid our bundles on the table and a lovely young girl of about 15 years emerged from the shadows and started sorting out our belongings. While she worked, Nagin chatted absorbedly in Hindi with the tiny bright-eyed woman. They chatted for some time....Finally, we were told that our items would be ready the following day and we took our leave.
Nagin is a disarming conversationalist and has a remarkable knack for casually learning the life story of just about anyone he meets! In minutes! Over lunch Nagin told me of his conversation with the tiny woman. Her name was Sunita and the young woman helping us was her eldest daughter, Moni. She had two other daughters, Reshma (age 13), Julie (age 11), and a young son, Ajay, (age 9). She was a widow and had moved to Bodh Gaya three years before, after losing her husband in a monsoon flood. It was a moving story and was a testimony to their resourcefulness, determination, and industry. Nagin also learned that Sunita was putting all four of her children through school on the income from her laundry, as well as supporting her elderly mother, also a widow.
SUNITA
The lot of a widow in India is bleak. It was not that long ago that an widowed woman was expected to throw herself upon her husband’s funeral pyre to perish alongside him, as part of his estate and property. A woman is considered absolutely unmarriageable once she is widowed. Her family will often disown her, or is simply too poor to support her, much less any of her children. She is basically destitute. The common choices facing her include begging, stealing, or prostitution; each of these options brings with it a supreme loss of integrity and dignity.Sunita chose none of these. Somehow, while caring for four very young children, she managed to start her own laundry service on a dusty roadside in Bodh Gaya. She had herself, a bar of soap, an iron, a bag of coal, and access to a public water spigot on the main road. She eventually built the small bamboo and plastic shack off the main road that became home and shelter for her family, as well as her place of business. She was routinely chased away by the police; her shack was demolished several times. Locals disputed her use of the public water source. Persistently she simply rebuilt and carried on when things settled down.
By my second trip to Bodh Gaya, in February of 2010, the hotel where we had lodged in 2008 had formally employed Sunita to wash their hotel linens, also allowing her to use their water source. Also, her own business had grown; both local people and hotel patrons regularly brought their laundry to her, which she would return clean and immaculately pressed. She still washes with a bar of soap, and she still presses clothing by heating her hand iron over burning coal, then scrubbing the hot iron on the stone floor of her shop to clean and polish it. I have watched her press white shirts to perfection using this method! Her children both help at the laundry and attend school regularly. Moni and Julie study Hindi track; Reshma and Ajay study English track.
On my 2010 visit, Sunita looked thinner and more tired than when I first met her two years before. Her middle daughter, Reshma, told me that Sunita had been intermittently very ill during those two years. The children were all very worried about her health, fearing what life would be like without their only parent. Reshma asked quietly if I could help them. I shared their sense of desperation and worry, for it was obvious to me that Sunita’s health had declined. Not knowing how else to help, I left them a sum of money in rupees, and prayed that this might provide some medical assistance for Sunita and support for her little family.
We headed off on foot towards the outskirts of Bodh Gaya.... past the last streets, the last houses, through grassy fields, then across a long stretch of standing water, traversed by hopping along a trail of partly submerged sand bags. Far out in the fields I could see a few brick structures, and sure enough, one of them belonged to Reshma and her family! Close by was the well-inhabited home of another large family.
(Reshma informed me that the men of the household had stolen several bags of sand and concrete from their building site....) The floor level of Resham’s house sits about 3 and 1/2 feet above the ground. The foundation is laid for two small rooms, basically a living area and a sleeping area. One room had been completed, the second remained to be finished......
Reshma’s courage and tenacity moved me deeply. I resolved to try to help them in any way I could. All the sorrow, despair, and helplessness that my India travels had sown in my heart, dissolved in the knowing that whatever little I offered could go a very, very long way for this small band of courageous people..... whatever I could give them could make a huge difference in their living circumstances, their health, their education.... no, it did not begin to touch the vast needs we witnessed in India; but it was a joyous revelation to know that it might be possible to make a real difference in the lives of even a few people.
So when Pema asked us at breakfast to share what we had done with our free time, Sunita’s story spilled out of me! I think her story touched the tender spot in all of us that ached and grieved for the poverty and suffering we all witnessed. Her story touched the sense of helplessness that can arise with this witnessing, and shone a little ray of hope, a possibility for action that could make a difference, however small, however great....
Sunita’s story and the story of her family is one of great courage and dignity. They have worked in unison and cooperation to survive. From their efforts in the laundry, to their efforts to see Moni happily married, Sunita’s family has persevered. It is clear that Reshma will carry that legacy forward, helping her mother and grandmother, as well as her younger brother and sister to flourish.
Reshma has written twice since we were in Bodh Gaya. In her first email, she sent news that she was “...very busy in Moni’s marriage work and also in making of home.” The wedding went very well, and “Moni is very with her husband. Her husband is very good man. He loves Moni too much.”
More recently, she tells us that work on their home has temporarily stopped due to the onset of cold weather and the vast numbers of pilgrims flocking into Bodh Gaya for the Kalachakra ceremony with the Dalai Lama. Thousands and thousands of people are pouring into Bodh Gaya for this ceremony.
Finally, she expresses her family’s deep gratitude to all of us for helping them. Her own words say it best! “We are very thankful to you and your friends also. We all wish you have happy life. We want that you are all come fastly in Bodh Gaya. Happy New Year!”
I would like to close this story with my own deep thanks to Alignment Yoga, to Scott and Pema, and to each one of you for your kindness and generosity in helping this small band of strangers in a far away place.... we raised over twenty two hundred dollars for Sunita and her family! They will have a home of their own! Moni is very happy in her marriage! Sunita will be able to afford some medical care! Her children will receive and education! Your help, kindness, and generosity is testimony to the fact that lives can touch, even across continents, that hearts and stories do intertwine, and that it is actually possible to make a difference.
Thank You All Beyond Measure!!!
NAMASTE
In Gratitude, and with deep wishes for your happiness in the New Year!
Pam A.
When I learned that our 2011 AY India itinerary would take us to Bodh Gaya, my heart jumped! In that moment, I realized just how profoundly this brave little Indian family had found their way into my heart! Since seeing them all in 2010, I had wondered about them often; I worried about their well being; I even wondered if Sunita would be alive when next I visited. So when we had our first free morning in Bodh Gaya, I knew exactly where I would go! My feet took me straight to Sunita’s shop! On the way, I prayed that she would be there, that they all would be there, that they were all well and happy!
To my delight, as I peered into the dark interior of her shop, there was Sunita.... her tiny bright form, hunkered down preparing tea by her coal fire, with an even smaller, very ancient woman beside her. We met in a great hug, and she then introduced me to her mother, Kamala. Soon, her daughters started returning from school as well. Reshma’s English had strongly improved since my last visit, and she updated me on the family’s year:
- Sunita had indeed been sick on and off again, unable to work at times. As best as I could determine, she was overworking incredibly and not eating enough. She looked thin and frail.
- Reshma had borrowed 60,000 rupees (a little more than eleven hundred US Dollars) from a money lender and had purchased a tiny plot of land in the middle of a rice paddy. Not the greatest location, but it was what she could afford. She had built half of a small two-room house, constructed so that the monsoon flood waters would peak just below the floor level! Construction had stopped because they had run out of money. Nonetheless, she had repaid all but 10,000 rupees of the original debt by helping her mother at the laundry and doing other odd jobs after school! Reshma had always impressed me with her quiet, intelligent presence, but this feat convinced me that this was a remarkable young woman. She was no longer the girl I had met in 2008. At age 15, she had matured of necessity into a young woman who had undertaken the care of her own mother and the rest of her family. Reshma was the visionary who undertook the risk, work, and action to better her family’s life.
- Moni was betrothed to a young man, but they did not have enough money for the dowry. Reshma told me that they hated the institution of the dowry, and commented, "But what can we do? This is our culture." She told me that if a girl stays in her mother's home beyond the age of 18, she becomes unmarriageable.... she is considered 'old', and a pall is cast upon her 'eligibility'..... Hence the sense of urgency surrounding Moni's marriage.
We headed off on foot towards the outskirts of Bodh Gaya.... past the last streets, the last houses, through grassy fields, then across a long stretch of standing water, traversed by hopping along a trail of partly submerged sand bags. Far out in the fields I could see a few brick structures, and sure enough, one of them belonged to Reshma and her family! Close by was the well-inhabited home of another large family.
(Reshma informed me that the men of the household had stolen several bags of sand and concrete from their building site....) The floor level of Resham’s house sits about 3 and 1/2 feet above the ground. The foundation is laid for two small rooms, basically a living area and a sleeping area. One room had been completed, the second remained to be finished......Reshma’s courage and tenacity moved me deeply. I resolved to try to help them in any way I could. All the sorrow, despair, and helplessness that my India travels had sown in my heart, dissolved in the knowing that whatever little I offered could go a very, very long way for this small band of courageous people..... whatever I could give them could make a huge difference in their living circumstances, their health, their education.... no, it did not begin to touch the vast needs we witnessed in India; but it was a joyous revelation to know that it might be possible to make a real difference in the lives of even a few people.
So when Pema asked us at breakfast to share what we had done with our free time, Sunita’s story spilled out of me! I think her story touched the tender spot in all of us that ached and grieved for the poverty and suffering we all witnessed. Her story touched the sense of helplessness that can arise with this witnessing, and shone a little ray of hope, a possibility for action that could make a difference, however small, however great....
Sunita’s story and the story of her family is one of great courage and dignity. They have worked in unison and cooperation to survive. From their efforts in the laundry, to their efforts to see Moni happily married, Sunita’s family has persevered. It is clear that Reshma will carry that legacy forward, helping her mother and grandmother, as well as her younger brother and sister to flourish.
Reshma has written twice since we were in Bodh Gaya. In her first email, she sent news that she was “...very busy in Moni’s marriage work and also in making of home.” The wedding went very well, and “Moni is very with her husband. Her husband is very good man. He loves Moni too much.”
More recently, she tells us that work on their home has temporarily stopped due to the onset of cold weather and the vast numbers of pilgrims flocking into Bodh Gaya for the Kalachakra ceremony with the Dalai Lama. Thousands and thousands of people are pouring into Bodh Gaya for this ceremony.
Finally, she expresses her family’s deep gratitude to all of us for helping them. Her own words say it best! “We are very thankful to you and your friends also. We all wish you have happy life. We want that you are all come fastly in Bodh Gaya. Happy New Year!”
I would like to close this story with my own deep thanks to Alignment Yoga, to Scott and Pema, and to each one of you for your kindness and generosity in helping this small band of strangers in a far away place.... we raised over twenty two hundred dollars for Sunita and her family! They will have a home of their own! Moni is very happy in her marriage! Sunita will be able to afford some medical care! Her children will receive and education! Your help, kindness, and generosity is testimony to the fact that lives can touch, even across continents, that hearts and stories do intertwine, and that it is actually possible to make a difference.
Thank You All Beyond Measure!!!
NAMASTE
In Gratitude, and with deep wishes for your happiness in the New Year!
Pam A.
