NEW DIGAMBER PUBLIC SCHOOL

LOST SPRING BY ANEES JUNG

IMPORTANT NOTES

The ‘Lost Spring’ is an excerpt from ‘Stories of Stolen Childhood’ written by Anees Jung.
It exposes a national shame-of Child labour. With her trademark sensitivity and insight,
she analyses the grinding poverty and tradition sanctified by caste which condemn these
children to a life of exploitation.
'Lost spring' is fascinating and revelatory description of the lives of poverty-stricken
children in India, forced into labour early in life and denied the opportunity of schooling.
The callousness of the society and the political class only adds to the sufferings of these
poor people.
Justification of the Title
As a title “Lost Spring” has a tinge of irony. Spring is the best season of the year. Being
full of colour, fragrance and freshness, it is also a season of renewal and growth. The
childhood of human life is often likened to spring, as it marks the beginning of human
life and has a tremendous scope for growth. It is full of joy, pleasure and play. Children
anywhere in the world are a source of great joy. But, ironically, millions of children like
Saheb and Mukesh experience no spring in their lives, for their childhood is consumed
in making a living and working as labourers. Education, play and pleasure are a far cry
for them. They must work to support themselves and their families. They are their
parents’ partners in survival. Thus, the title brings out the depravity of child labour in a
very telling way.
Loss of Childhood means:
➢ Loss of Freedom to enjoy
➢ Involvement in menial jobs
➢ Physical & mental sufferings
➢ Deprived of education
Issues- Raised in the lesson:
➢ Child-Labour
➢ Exploitation in the name of traditions
➢ Caste Stigma
➢ Corruption by those in power and position.
Main Theme
The theme of the chapter is the grinding poverty and the traditions which condemn
poor children to a life of exploitation. The two stories taken together depict the plight of
street children
Sub-themes
• The plight of street children forced into labour early in life and denied the
opportunity of schooling.
• The callousness of society and the political class to the sufferings of the poor.

SOMETIMES I FIND A RUPEE IN THE GARBAGE

About Saheb
Saheb was a young boy of school-going age. He is a rag picker who came early morning
to pick rags from the garbage dumps of the big city. He had left his home in Dhaka,
Bangladesh and came to the big city in search of living. He has nothing else to do but pick
rags.

Hopeful to go to school
The author asked Saheb about going to school. Saheb explained that there was no school
in his neighborhood. He promised to go to school when they built one. Half joking, the
author asked whether he would come in case she started one. Saheb smiled broadly and
agreed to come. After a few days, he ran up to the author and asked if the school was
ready. The author felt embarrassed. She had made a promise that was not meant.

His name being ironical

Saheb’s full name is “Saheb-e-Alam”. It means the Lord of the Universe. He does not know it. If
he knew it, he would hardly believe it. His name is ironical because despite his name meaning
Lord of the Universe, he roams around the streets barefoot picking rags.

Reason for remaining barefoot

These rag pickers who are called as army of bare foot boys appears in the morning and disappears
at noon.
The author notices that most of the young children engaged in rag picking are not
wearing footwear. Some of them do not have chappals. Others want to wear shoes. Some
say it is tradition to stay barefoot, but author understand it is due to lack of money and
the perpetual state of poverty forces them to walk without footwear.

Garbage to them is gold

Garbage to them is gold as when they sell this garbage, they get money which in turn,
provides them their daily bread and a roof over the heads.

Survival in Seemapuri means rag-picking.

Seemapuri is a place on the periphery of Delhi, yet miles away from it metaphorically.
Squatters who came from Bangladesh, way back in 1971, live there. Nearly 10,000
ragpickers live there in structures of mud, with roofs of tin and tarpaulin. They do not
have any work except getting themselves involved in rag picking. Rag picking is the
sole means of their survival. It has acquired the proportions of a fine art for them.
Food is more important for survival than an identity
These squatters who have come from Bangladesh have lived there for more than thirty
years without an identity or permit They have got ration cards that enable them to buy
grains and get their names on voters’ lists. As reported by the women who wore tattered
saris, they left their country of green fields as they gave them no grain. For them food is
more important for survival than an identity. They are contented to live the life of
refugees as they do not sleep with aching stomach now therefore, they pitch their tents
wherever they find food.

Garbage has a different meaning for rag pickers and their children
Small children scrounge heaps of garbage. They expect to get some coin, note or valuable
thing in it. Sometimes they find a rupee or even a ten rupee note. This gives the hope of
finding more. They search it excitedly. For children, garbage is wrapped in wonder. For
the elders it is a means of survival. Thus, garbage has two different meanings.

Saheb’s job at tea stall

Saheb took up the job at a tea-stall. But he was not happy with it. He was no longer his
own master. Although he is paid 800 rupees and all his meals. But his face has lost the
carefree look. The steel canister in his hands now seems a burden than the plastic bag
filled with rags. Now he may have to work for longer hours and under the supervision
of his employer in contrast to his rag picking work where he was free to work in
whichever way he wanted. The helplessness of not able to do things at his own will makes
him sad. Saheb is no longer his own master.

I WANT TO DRIVE A CAR

About Mukesh
Mukesh is the son of a poor bangle-maker of Firozabad, where every other family is
engaged in making bangles. His poor father has failed to renovate his house or send his
two sons to school. Mukesh insists on being his own master. His dream is to be a motor
mechanic. He wants to drive a car. Given the conditions of existence, which is
hazardous, pathetic and impoverished, his dream looks like a mirage amidst the dust
streets of his town Firozabad.

About Firozabad
Firozabad is famous for its glass bangles. It is the center of India’s glass-blowing industry.
Families have spent generations working around furnaces, welding glass, making
bangles for all the women in the land. Every other family in Firozabad is engaged in
making bangles. Boys and girls work in dark hutments, next to the flickering flames of
oil lamps around furnaces, blowing glass, welding and soldering it to make bangles.
The contrast between the colors of the bangles and the atmosphere of the place where
these bangles are made
The bangles are of every color born out of the seven colors of the rainbow. These are
sunny gold, paddy green, royal blue, pink and purple placed in the unkempt yards of
every house of Firozabad.

Mukesh’s house
Mukesh’s house is built in a slum-area. The lanes stink with garbage. The homes there
are hovels with crumbling walls, wobbly doors and no windows. These are crowded
with families of humans and animals. Most of these houses are shacks or huts. Mukesh
is proud that his house is being rebuilt.
Mukesh’s house is a half-built shack with a wobbly door. One part of it is thatched with
dead grass. There is a firewood stove. Spinach leaves are sizzling in a large vessel. More
chopped vegetables lie on aluminum platters.
A frail young woman who is the wife of Mukesh’s elder brother is cooking meal for the
whole family. She smiles at them. Her eyes are filled with the smoke of firewood. Though
not much older in years, she commands respect as the daughter- in-law of the house. She
adheres to customs and traditions. She veils her face before male elders. She gently
withdraws behind the broken wall to do so. The scene depicts their grinding poverty but
contentment with their lot.

Mukesh’s father’s life and achievement

Mukesh’s father was born in the caste of bangle-makers. His father went blind with the
dust from polishing the glass of bangles. He is an old and impoverished bangle-maker.
He has worked hard for long years, first as a tailor and then as a bangle-maker. Still, he
has failed to renovate a house or send his two sons to school.

Mukesh’s grandmother’s view

Mukesh's grandmother accepted her husband's going blind from polishing bangles as
'his karam, his destiny'. She believes in destiny. She sees no way to get over the condition
of utter poverty. She has no hope regarding a good future. His grandmother believes that
they cannot break their 'God-given lineage' implying that their family cannot elude from
their God-given lineage of being bangle-makers and would remain always bangle-
makers, thus continuing to suffer. However, Mukesh does not want to pursue this trade.
He is determined to become a car mechanic.

“Savita is a symbol of innocence and efficiency.

Savita is a young girl. She has put on drab pink dress. She is soldering pieces of glass.
Her hands move mechanically like the tongs of a machine. She is innocent as she is
ignorant about the sanctity of the bangles she helps to make. Bangles symbolize
auspiciousness in marriage for an Indian woman.
“She still has bangles on her wrist but no light in her eyes.”
She’ is an elderly woman who became a bride long ago. Her husband, an old man with a
flowing beard was able to build his home, which many bangle makers of Firozabad could
not. She has, however, not enjoyed even one full meal in her entire lifetime. All her life
she has worked hard making bangles, she has those bangles on her wrist but there is no
light in her eyes. This is an example of the abject poverty and helplessness of the bangle-
makers.

The young men echo the lament of their elders.

The bangle-makers of Firozabad are quite poor. They do not have enough money to do
anything except carry on the business of making bangles. The youngsters also have the
same pain as their elders have i.e., no food to eat and no house to live. Building a house
for the family is an achievement for them. Years of mind-numbing toil have killed all
initiative and the ability to dream. They are as exhausted as their fathers and grandfathers
have been. The mind-numbing work of bangle making over the years, has killed all the
enthusiasm to break away from drudgery by which they are suffering.

Bangle-makers do want not organize themselves into a cooperative

Most of the young bangle-makers have fallen into the traps of the middlemen. They are
also afraid of the police. They know that the police will haul them up, beat them and
drag to jail for doing something illegal. There is no leader among them to help them see
things differently. Their fathers are equally tired. They can do nothing except carrying
on their inherited business.

The two distinct worlds the author notices in Firozabad.

a. The families of the bangle-makers who are caught in the web of poverty. They are
also burdened by the stigma of the caste in which they are born. They know no other
work.
b. The other world is the vicious circle of the moneylenders, the middlemen, the
policemen, the keepers of the law, the bureaucrats and the politicians.

Mukesh different from the other bangle makers of Firozabad

Mukesh is quite different from other bangle makers of Firozabad because he has the
courage to take initiative and break from the traditional family occupation. He has
strong will power and determination. He insists on being a motor mechanic thus being
his own master.

The plight of the children born in the families of bangle-makers

The vicious circle of the middlemen and their allies have entrapped the poor bangle-
makers in their nets. The stronghold is suffocating. They have imposed a heavy burden
of child labour on little children which cannot put down. Before they are able to think,
they accept their fate as naturally as their fathers.

Firozabad presents a strange paradox, because it contrasts the beauty of the glass
bangles of Firozabad with the misery of the people who produce them.
Firozabad, the center of India’s glass-blowing industry, is famous for its bangles. Spirals
of bangles of various colors can be seen lying in mounds in yards or piled on four wheeled
push carts. These bangles have shining bright colors: sunny gold, paddy
green, royal blue, pink, purple-in fact, every color born out of the seven colors of the
rainbow.
The bangle makers lead a miserable life. They know no other work than bangle making.
They have neither courage nor money to start another trade or job. They have spent
generations in the clutches of middle men and moneylenders. Extreme poverty forces
them to remain hungry and yet work all day. The elderly woman, who works with Savita,
has not enjoyed even one full meal in her entire lifetime. Her husband has made a house
for the family to live in. He has achieved what many have failed in their lifetime.
Mukesh’s father has failed to renovate a house or send his two sons to school. Young boys
are as tired as their fathers. Their work at hot furnaces makes them blind prematurely.

Hardships of the bangle makers of Firozabad

The bangle-makers of Firozabad are born in poverty, live in poverty and die in poverty.
For generations these people have been engaged in this trade—working around hot
furnaces with high temperature, welding and soldering glass to make bangles. In spite of
hard labour throughout the day, the return is meagre. Some of them have to sleep with
empty, aching stomachs. Others do not have enough to eat. The stinking lanes of their
shanty town are choked with garbage. Their hovels have crumbling walls, wobbly doors
and no windows. These are overcrowded with humans and animals.
Poverty and hunger, social customs and traditions, stigma of caste and the intrigues of
powerful lobby that thrives on their labour combine to keep them poor, uneducated and
hungry. The moneylenders, the middlemen, the policemen, the keepers of law, the
bureaucrats and the politicians—all are ranged against them. Children are engaged in
illegal and hazardous work. Years of mind-numbing toil have killed all initiative and
ability to dream. They are unable to organise themselves into cooperative due to lack of
a leader and fear of ill-treatment at the hands of the police. They seem to carry the burden
that they can’t put down. They can talk but not act to improve their lot.
The lifestyle, problems and economic conditions of all the families are similar. There is
only a difference of degree but not of kind in their existence and response to life’s
problems.