Geetanjali Krishna: Importance of being Merry

Watching Merry Barua in action is quite something. She's full of beans, whizzing around all over her school, Open Door, sneakers on her feet and a smile on her face.

We walk up the stairs as she greets a student, chats with a teacher. Downstairs, a group of students are playing games in the sun. It looks like a typical school with a happy environment. I peep into a room to see a child rocking compulsively on a rocking horse. Another is rhythmically beating a toy block on the table. The children here all have autism, a complex disability that affects the way their brains process information.

Most people who know little about autism believe it's very rare. I did too. Which is why the current statistics shocked me: one in two hundred fifty newborns have Autism Spectrum Disorder (ASD) and the number is growing. Four million Indians are affected by it today. The crying need, Merry believes, is for an early and accurate diagnosis followed by a training system that is geared specially for people like them. "We find that with proper intervention, people with autism can lead productive lives," she says.

It's a tough, resource-intensive cause, made tougher by the fact that Merry herself is the mother of an autistic child. But her positivity is infectious as is her passion to make a difference. "Autistic children need to be taught to communicate and interact with people," she says, "most of our children enjoy Open Door school and gradually learn many skills." I watch a caregiver patiently massage a child with an acupressure instrument: "some children here enjoy sensory stimulation," she says. Others love the Happy Room, a bright yellow and orange room where they can basically do their own thing. It is clear, though, that all of them benefit by a one-on-one interaction with the teacher. So, Open Door has deliberately kept itself small, basing the number of students on the number of teachers it has "" it has about sixty students and thirty staff members.

How do they hope to make a difference when the statistics are so staggeringly high, and their own resources so limited, I wonder. Merry, true to her character, is just going with the flow. "We run a twelve-week training programme for mothers, teaching them to be efficient therapists and teachers for their autistic children," she says, "while there are many institutions for autistic children, few focus on their mothers." Every year, her organisation, Action For Autism, trains three groups of mothers from across India. "In fact, we've also had some from Bangladesh and Pakistan too," says Merry. The course is so popular it's fully booked two sessions in advance. Merry's happy about the ripple effect the course has: "recently a mother from Bhopal did our course and has started her own group back home."

"By demystifying autism, ridding it of jargon, we enable mothers to understand their kids better," she says. The course is also very empowering. "At the beginning, many are in the 'Why Me?' mode, like autism has brought their lives to a halt," says Merry matter-of-factly, "but towards the end of the course, most are ready to move on in life, better informed about their children's special needs."

Merry dreams of creating a truly inclusive school some day where autistic and non-autistic children play and learn together "" knowing fully well that she may never have the capital for it. In the meantime, the happy faces in the Happy Room are proof this petite lady has brought positivity and energy into a few lives at least...and that's what counts, doesn't it?