Mid-Day Meal

Bold font news in prints and emotional TV anchors were my two sources of information about mid-day meal. Lot has been said about the safety and security of the food for children given free by government. As a country we have witnessed lot of pathetic outcomes. We have just been sympathetic, some who are paid for their jobs have marched the streets with slogans on and oppositions took it as an opportunity to malice the king or the queen reigning. The emotion settles till the next event shakes up the thinking community. It is more a cycle and we are used to it.

Post the last massacre of several school kids dying in Bihar due to toxic contamination, we kept chewing how, by doing things someway somehow, our country often forgets to count on depth of possible negative outcomes. Jugar style has its limitation but we fail to recognize that as a country as we believe in instant result. Shortcut is not always the best cut. We exchanged facts and view points and then the subject was resting for a while on my scrap book.

Suddenly the thought excited me the other day after an interesting communication with Munia. She is a standard three kid of an acquaintance who runs a small day-in-day-out business in the neighborhood. Once in while she accompanies her father when he visits our house to help us on some household errands. She is a good student of one of the local government schools. I take extra interest in her academics and this interaction was no exception.

Munia is very talkative but articulates well. That keeps me engage.
I asked her – “So what is happening new in school?”
She promptly replied – “Tiffin box filling.”
I was curious and she continued.
“School gives me khichdi and curry every day. But ma had warned me not to have. I take my own tiffin from home.”
She modulated her tone to make the narration interesting.
“After the last parents call ma gives me an empty box like many of my other friends. During the tiffin hour we fill up the box with the kichiri and curry and then..” she took a deep breath as the story stretched.
“…on our way back after school we all serve the food to Kalu and his friends!”
My obvious next was – “Who is Kalu?”
Poritosh, her father wanted to stop her story, however I was willing to listen.
“Kalu is the street dog. They are a group of four.” Munia was about to describe when Poritosh pitched in forcefully. “Didi, it is a difficult situation. School wants children to take the mid-day meal, but we are very afraid after reading and seeing all that is happening around.  Can't risk Munni's life. So we found a way to keep all happy.”
I spontaneously asked – “Why don’t you ask for packed foods from school authorities?”
“We don’t decide. School, government someone decides!” He left it there. I wondered if it is one of situation or many more real stories are brewing in corners of my country. It is surely scaring. Munia left that day having two cream biscuits.

The value chain of mid-day meal proposition has changed its course. Not sure, if all who needs to know the facts are aware of what is happening on the ground. Shying away to solve the real problem is opening up doors to work around. Munias’ of my country are growing on the foundation of workarounds often very disruptive!  Is this very promising?