My maternal grandfather was ailing. Mother couldn’t ask him for help. So, it was just mom and I against the whole world. My mother loved acting so she began acting in natakas (dramas), but the money wasn’t  sufficient. Within a year we were thrown out of our home because we couldn’t afford the rent. I dropped out of school in the third standard. I  was seven years old.

There’s only so much my mother could take. In the next couple of years, she became weak and sick. Today, I know the name of what she was suffering from– extreme depression. We were living on the pavement near the railway station. I began to work as a coolie and would make Rs 60-70 per day. I was nine years old.

The police barred me from working. “Child labour is not allowed,” they said. We could barely make ends meet. I’d sneak into the station and try to get some work. During one such  operation, I met Shanthi from Bosco Mane. She asked me to visit their open shelter in Gandhi Nagar. I was desperate. So, I went.

The folks in Bosco got medical help for my mother. She was admitted to a hospital. For about three months I visited the open shelter. Later I went to live at Bosco Mane in Chamarajpet.  I hardly visited my mother at the hospital; I couldn’t bear to see her frail, sickly and dying. The Fathers at Bosco and my counsellor, Sr Sheba, urged me to study. But I resisted. Instead, I opted for vocational training. I wanted to earn to take care of my mother.

One day director Kavita Lankesh came to Bosco Mane. She took pictures of a few kids including me and when she came back a week later, she asked me if I was interested in acting. I said yes. I now got a chance to do what my mother loved doing– acting. After a week’s training, we began shooting for Deveeri. I didn’t know it was a film shooting,I thought it was a documentary or a television serial. I was enjoying myself. One afternoon I was told that my mother had died. I was 10 years old.

I was devastated. I knew she was going to die, but not so soon. I was doing all this for my mother and now she was gone. I wept.  She was only thirty years old.

I had a vague memory of my grandfather’s house. I went to his place, along with members of Bosco Mane. Grandfather didn’t say much. I guess he was sad too. I  performed my mother’s last rites. My estranged father was watching me from the sidelines. He was married and had two children. Somebody, from Bosco must’ve informed him. I didn’t know. I didn’t care.

A week later, I was back to complete the shooting. Deveeri became a hit and received many awards. My proudest moment was when I received the state award from the governor. I felt sad that my mother was not there to see it.

By now I had come to a decision that I will pursue academics. I began studying in a Kannada medium school. I was a good student; topped my class; excelled in sports,especially cricket. I was the school topper in the seventh standard board exams. I requested the Fathers to send me to an English medium. They did. I went to St Joseph’s Boys High School, the first kid from Bosco Mane to attend an English school. It was a struggle. The English language frustrated me. But I persisted. I began conversing with the foreigners who volunteered at Bosco. I read newspapers… I passed my tenth and later PUC with a first class. It was now time to earn a living. I began working as a Field Coordinator at Dream A Dream Foundation. I was elated. I had also progressed to playing league matches in cricket. Life was looking up.

When I was living in Bosco Mane, my father visited me a couple of times. I hated him. I was angry at him for turning his back against his wife and child. When I started working, he visited me again. He was diabetic. He looked frail and ill. He also had family problems. Father apologised for abandoning me. I couldn’t be angry with him anymore. A month later I heard he had died. I watched his son perform the last rites. Father was forty-five years old.

Life goes on. I don’t have excessive emotional attachments to anyone. But I thank God that in every phase of my life there was someone to help me. Even today when I see a mother and child, my heart grips me with pain. I lock myself in my room and weep. Once the tears dry up, I tell myself, “Man, don’t cry. Go do something worthwhile.” When life becomes difficult, I tell myself -this too shall pass. After all, I survived my past, didn’t  I? Playing cricket helps me deal with sadness and pain.

Last year I applied for a passport because it’s been my dream to see the world. I got the little blue book in August. In September, I applied for a scholarship in Germany and got it in January. In April I will be going to Hamburg for a year. I am twenty-three years old.

Sometimes, I feel that I do have a guardian angel looking after me. Or is it just mother?

source: http://www.BangaloreMirror.com / Home> Sunday Read> Special /by Jayanthi Madhukar / January 29th, 2012