Geetanjali Krishna: A woman of letters

When I first arrived in Delhi from my village in Ranchi, I felt I was blind. I couldn't understand which bus to take, and needed to rely on what strangers told me. I couldn't tell the time, and though it does not sound like a big thing, it caused untold confusion.

I couldn't even figure out if I'd been given the right amount of change if I bought anything! All I wanted to do was to run back home, but had no idea how to get to the railway station! So I just sat miserably in the missionary centre through which I'd come to Delhi, waiting for them to get me a job," narrated 19-year-old Sunita.

Her handicap? She was totally unlettered, and could barely write her name when she arrived in Delhi.

"In my village, Sarsawai, nobody goes to school. There's no need to! The sun in the sky tells us whether it's time to go to work in the fields, the grumbling in our stomachs tells us when it's time to eat. We pay in kind so it doesn't matter whether we know how to add or subtract or not," said she.

But when Sunita came to Delhi, she found herself severely handicapped by her lack of education: "It didn't hamper my job prospects "" after all, a poor villager like me can only do household work no matter how much she studies. But I found it difficult to always have to rely on other friends for bus routes, bank forms and many other things!" said she.

But the final straw came a few months after she'd begun working. "I was very homesick and wanted desperately to get some word from home. So I dictated a letter to my friend and sent it, only to realise that nobody there would be able to read it. You can't imagine my anguish at that time!" So Sunita finally decided to join open school in 2002, and at age 16, got enrolled in class one.

Initially it was tough going, said she: "I felt I was too old to have to learn the alphabet, or the tables. They looked so easy but actually were very difficult to learn. My greatest fear was that our teacher would ask me a question in class, and I'd disgrace myself."

Today, Sunita studies in class four and has a tough time writing Hindi. "My spellings are really bad," she groans, "but I'm working hard at them." Her examinations are in November, and she's studying hard to ensure she passes.

Her biggest happiness is that now she can write her own letters "" and there's someone at home to read them. "After I began to study, I convinced my parents to send my youngest sister and brother, now aged eight and five, to school," she said proudly, " now they read my letters aloud to the whole family."

I asked her what her plans for the future were. "I'd definitely like to study till I can spell properly and can write really good letters to my family. But I won't stay in Delhi forever, and wonder how much time or opportunity I'd have to study when I go back," said she ruefully.

Then her face brightened, "But I've learnt the only thing that was important to me "" writing letters. And I can fill forms, see bus routes, do basic accounts. What else could I have hoped for?"

As she went off to read what looked like an old letter from her mother, I wondered what her ability to write letters would be worth "" after she returned home to Sarsawai.

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