Menu
 

People

Presenting Harmony's silvers - sparkling lives, success stories, accounts of endurance, courage, grit and passion
Back

EXCLUSIVE

A mother to all

Author: admin

Lucknow’s Sarojini Agarwal turns personal tragedy into a mission for the girl child. At 80, she’s still ‘following God’s plan’

Tragedy struck Dr Sarojini Agarwal early in life—she lost her eight year-old daughter in a road accident. What made the catastrophe unbearably painful for Dr Agarwal was the fact that she was driving the two-wheeler on which little Manisha was riding pillion.

“A police jeep knocked us twice from behind,” she recalls. While Dr Agarwal survived with multiple fractures, Manisha died on the spot. “That Manisha died beside me was not something I could accept easily. But I could not do anything except let her go, just like that!”

This gut-wrenching event set Dr Agarwal on a path that changed the lives of hundreds of other little girls; girls who were born into poor families and girls whose parents had died or abandoned them. Over the past three decades, Dr Agarwal, now 80 years old, has become Maa or ‘Mother’, to over 800 destitute girls and young women. “This was the path I was meant to take,” she says, welcoming you into Manisha Mandir in Lucknow, her home and the ashram where she raises her ‘daughters’.

The premises are bubbling with the chitter-chatter of 30 little girls, many of whom take cover behind their Maa on finding a stranger in their midst. Dr Agarwal is their caregiver, companion, confidant and educator. “Girls need special attention and extra care, for they are the pillars of society, future mothers at the centre of each family,” says Dr Agarwal, explaining the philosophy she uses to prepare them for life ahead.

After Manisha’s death in 1978, Dr Agarwal had to quickly recoup as she had a family to raise: a husband, ageing in-laws and three sons, one of them a twin of Manisha. “Through it all, Manisha never left my mind and, one day, I thought, what of the many other ‘Manishas’ who did not have a mother to call their own? Perhaps I could give them a home.”

But it would be many years before she worked on making her dream a reality. Born and raised in Jodhpur and holding a PhD in Hindi literature, Dr Agarwal was then a writer and had authored short stories and collections of poetry, novels, and had even penned an autobiography titled Baat Swayam Bolegi, the proceeds of which she used to start Manisha Mandir.

But her full-tome job was raising her family. “The day my oldest son became an engineer, I shared my idea of a home for abandoned children with my husband,” reveals Dr Agarwal, who adds that her husband is now ‘Papa’ to the girls at Manisha Mandir.

That year, in 1983, Manisha Mandir opened its doors, with just three girls, in a rented house “Our first girl came to us as a baby, after an acquaintance of mine, a gynaecologist, told me that a woman, a divorcee, had died while giving birth. I went to the hospital and took responsibility of the newborn. This child was followed by two sisters whose mother had died in an accident.”

Over the years, Manisha Mandir has changed addresses a few times and is now housed in a sprawling, three-storey home, where girls aged between five and 15 are cared for, educated and raised. It has a rich library, computer lab, recreation halls, dormitories, gardens with swings, basketball and badminton courts and a television room, among many other facilities that ensure a comfortable and stable environment for the children. To meet the ever-growing expenses of the home, Dr Agarwal built a large hall on the top floor of the building and leases it for functions.

Not all the girls at Manisha Mandir are orphans; some come from very poor families whose parents cannot afford to care for them. All the girls are given the surname ‘Bharti’ to conceal their caste status. The younger ones are educated at the ashram, while the older girls are enrolled in good schools across the city.

Although making sure education is a top priority, Dr Agarwal ensures there is enough time for fun too. The girls also learn to stitch, knit and are taught other vocational skills, including computer operations. They stay at Manisha Mandir till the age of 17-18 and are then encouraged to take up a job or get married. Many who have passed through Manisha Mandir’s portals over the past 30 years have made their mark as bank managers, teachers and principals, while others have settled with good families.

While some of the girls are reunited with their families if their relatives accept them, Manisha Mandir puts the really young ones up for adoption. “Relatives of some of the orphans have come to take the girls to their homes, but once a girl is with me, I make sure she is in safe and responsible hands,” says Dr Agarwal.

Rewinding to the early days, Dr Agarwal says there was a time when she would hang a crib, named ‘Sanjeevan Palna’, near the gate. Here, people could leave abandoned newborns. “We have even taken in two-day-old baby girls. It would then occur to me that you need not give birth to a child to be a mother. When I would take those babies in my arms, my desire for a daughter would be satiated,” she says, a faraway look clouding her eyes. With age catching up, the octogenarian says she finds it difficult to take in newborns any more.

Although she has received numerous awards for her work, accolades mean little to Dr Agarwal, whose work with the girl child is unstoppable. Just this year, she set up the Beti Bachao, Beti Padhao, Beti Badhao Academy to facilitate higher education among girls from poor families through the Manisha Higher Education Scholarship. Meritorious girls are screened by a four-member committee for the scholarship, which is given for a period of three years to pursue bachelor’s and master’s degrees across the country.

“Manisha died but her spirit lives on. I think it was God’s plan. He wanted me to mother so many needy girls. I thank him for choosing me for this mission,” says Dr Agarwal summing up her life’s journey. “I have always had confidence in myself and in God and with many sacrifices, I knew I could accomplish anything.”

Text & Photographs by Namita Bajpai

January 2017