If India is shining, why are these children living on our streets?

"We take care of ourselves by working on the streets, not by stealing or begging," Santosh, 13 years.

"Whenever I close my eyes, I see layers and layers of love flowing by," Munnalal, 14 years. "If we didn't have to work we would study. We would like to study too," Shariful, 13 years.

"If we didn't work and earn, how would we live? Would we give our lives away? If one of us died today, no one would notice, no one would ask why," Asif, 14 years.

Four marginalised voices from among 400 million children, 40 per cent of whom live in poverty and extreme hardship, 10 million of whom call the streets below and the sky above home.

For every one of us who has reason to be suspicious of non-government organisations (NGOs), Youthreach makes us think hard. Of the Santoshs and Munnalals who will grow up gazing at a world from the wrong side of car windows.

Perhaps the cynicism will linger, maybe the doubts will never go away, but that is no reason for us to respond to these street children with anger, irritation and contempt.

In a pictorial book that celebrates the spirit of India's disadvantaged urban child, Youthreach gives us reason to hope that with a little love and some affection, that skepticism can be laid to rest. And a process of assimilation and healing can begin.

One of the greatest barriers street children face is the cocooning of advantaged, urban lives from the disadvantaged, the two mistrusting of each other, isolated by education and empowerment of the one, the neglect and segregation of the other.

It is this gap the 21 photographers who have contributed to this book hope to allay somewhat, if not bridge, with their portraits of the life of urban street children.

For Prabuddha Dasgupta, a well-known photographer, it must have been a difficult task culling out pictures "" most in black and white "" that portray their life on the unkind streets of our cities.

Yet, he does this with a keen eye, bringing out their miserable, hopeless situation without wallowing in the luxury of helplessness, to show human poverty without human degradation.

It is a task that would have been helpless without the editorial support of Nanni Singh who looks at the millions of voices to lend her ear to the most poignant, resonant with the richness of life itself.

What else would egg Neelofar, 15 years, to express herself in philosophical hugeness: "Within this huge world man creates a small world of his own that he calls family."

Their families came from the streets and will bequeath them the same streets, and perhaps some NGOs will make a difference to some of their lives.

But the numbers are so large, the poverty so monumental, that till each one of us can begin to make our contribution in some small measure to their lives, no sweeping solution will help India overcome the odds of their survival.

Certainly not odes to the removal of child labour for, as Rohit, 15 years, suggests: "Banning child labour would mean that tens of thousands of families will lose their jobs overnight and become more helpless. Instead, the government should first ensure that we are not compelled to work in difficult circumstances."

Your contribution? Begin with showing this book to the young. Sensitising your children to the problem of urban poverty could be your way of showing that the marginalised too must count if 'Developing India' is really to become 'India Shining'.

IF I WERE RAIN

Edited by Nanni Singh
Photography edited by Prabuddha Dasgupta
Youthreach
Pages: 306
Price: Rs 750