one rupee, two rupee, three rupee, four...

He couldn’t have been more than ten years old. The small boy trailed behind us, barefoot and dirty, holding out his hand for change. The volunteers and I piled inside our van, dismissing him as we shut all the doors. Tapping on my window, he stood resolutely, and pointed at his mouth. His gaze was piercing. I averted my eyes and feigned interest in a newspaper lying on the seat. There was a photo of a group of smiling students. Graduates of a prestigious school. First prize in something. The engine started and the car began to back out of the parking spot. He didn’t leave. Instead, he watched my expression intently, searching for a sign of pity. We drove away.

Each weekend the volunteers spend roaming Bangalore city, we are badgered by at least a dozen different beggars, but this particular boy stood out to me. In different circumstances, his persistence would not have seemed unusual. Given that we were already in a locked car that was backing out, however, his behavior struck me as odd. Moreover, he was a boy. The majority of beggars I have come across in India have been female – whether they are children, young women with babies, or elderly, crippled ladies.

I began to consider the boy’s situation. What kind of future does this child have? What could he likely be doing in ten, twenty years? There are limited possibilities. He is so young, but does not have something real to strive for. As a child, I went to school with an understanding that if I worked hard, I could do anything I wanted. This boy doesn’t go to school, have shoes, a real home, nor a constant source of food. I thought of the children at Shanti Bhavan. Well-groomed, playful, and content. For many of them, their fates may have resembled that of the young boy, had it not been for their education.

Hope. That’s what children are – hope for the future of their families. The students of Shanti Bhavan are just that, in the truest sense. Unlike the young boy begging for a few rupees on the street, they will graduate from college and achieve something unique. They will be the first in their villages to complete higher education, but it will mean something more than just a diploma and a degree. The path to a solid career signifies the potential to support a family, and generations of families. They will be productive members of society, and the eventual impact that they’ll have may be staggering. I look forward to seeing what they accomplish. Perhaps one day, I will pick up a newspaper and see the smiling faces of my former students. Graduates of Shanti Bhavan School. First prize in something.