The month of November was about to end and the winters were already knocking on the doors. Our team had gathered to capture the moments from the Ahalyabai Holkar Awards in Pune. The awards were primarily given to women achievers of the year. We were there early to set up the cameras while the hall was nearly empty. While giving instructions to my team I observed an elderly lady sitting in the third row of participants. From the appearance, she looked in her sixties, with white hair and wearing a simple sari. Lost in her deep thoughts her wrinkled face looked more kind and serene. There was an unforgettable radiance in her simplicity. Being hard-pressed with time we got engaged in the preparations.
The guests and the nominees poured in soon and the hall was overcrowded in no time. The awards function begun, and one by one the awardees went on to the stage to receive respective mementos and give their speeches. Then the final award was announced, it was awarded to Smt. Sindhutai Sapkal, and to my surprise, the motherly-looking lady stood up and steadily moved up the stage. With the whole crowd of well-dressed, suited executives and leaders from the industry, a lady as simple as she was hard to miss. Almost all were surprised to see the winner of the year award.
Now she was handed over the mike to make her speech. She began her speech in her local accent,
“Namaste! My name is Sindhutai Sapkal. People call me the mother of orphans. Most of you might not know me. Please let me introduce myself by my life story. I was born in a poor family on 14 November 1948 at Pimpri Meghe village in Wardha district of Maharashtra. Being an unwanted child, I was nicknamed “Chindhi” which means a torn piece of cloth. Due to family responsibilities, I could only study up to fourth grade. We were so poor that I used to write on Bharadi tree leaves, as we could not afford a slate.
As I grew up to 12 years old, I was married to a 30-year-old man, who was very harsh and abusive to me. When I was merely 20 years old and was nine months pregnant my husband beat me up and threw me out of the house. It was night and I was in so much pain that I went to a nearby cow shelter. I gave birth to a baby girl by myself, my cries and suffering didn’t reach any ears that night. Lying in a pool of blood, and not knowing what to do, I cut the umbilical cord with a sharp stone. The next day I walked all the way to my parents’ home, where my mother refused to take me back and I was left on the streets. I wanted to end my life, but I had a baby in my hands. With no money or clothes, I tore my sari to cover the baby and went to the nearby railway station, and started begging for food and money.
It was difficult to feed myself once a day for the next few days. Holding my 10-year-old daughter in my hands I thought of killing myself when cries from a nearby man broke me out of the spell. An extremely weak-looking diseased man was about to die. I took some water from the hand pump and poured it into his mouth. I fed him some of the food I collected from the trash cans. He survived and recovered in a few days. This incident awakened me to other’s sufferings. Still, the thought of finishing my own life came to my mind many times.
Once I sang a few prayers in front of travelers in front of a bus and later boarded the bus in the hope of getting some donations from the passengers. The bus conductor looking at my deplorable condition threw me out of the bus at the next stop and didn’t let me in even after my repeated requests. A person who de-boarded the bus at that stop recognized me by the prayers I was singing. He offered me a cup of tea in the nearby stall. The moment I held the paper cup from him, a big crash sound came, as the bus had collided with a fast-moving truck. There were no survivors on the bus. I would have been dead had I been on the bus. I looked at the man who brought me here, but he was nowhere to be found. I thanked God and made it a motive to spend the rest of my life in the service of other needier.
Once I found two young kids begging on a train, seeing their condition my heart melted, and I offered them to stay with me. I felt as much love for other kids as much I loved my own daughter. I started adopting all the orphans and children abandoned by their parents. I started working harder to supply food for as many children as I adopted. Many times I was beaten and thrown out of trains for being there without a ticket. But my will to provide for my children kept me going. The whole day I used to sing in the local trains and collect change from people to feed my children. Many times for the fear of being chased by drunkards, I would sleep in cemeteries, where no one used to enter in the night. I felt much safer among the dead.
I helped the children get an education, got them married, and supported them to settle down in life. I never gave my children for adoption. I have been a mother to as many as 1400 children till now. With the grace of God, I managed to marry more than 250 children. Some of my children are doctors, engineers, and lawyers. And a number of my children run orphanages. Do good deeds and the best will come back.
Hunger made me speak and this became my source of income later on. I gave many speeches at various places and whatever money I received, I used it to take care of my children.
I had no one with me, everyone abandoned me. I knew the pain of being alone and unwanted. I didn’t want anyone to go through the same. And I feel immense pride and pleasure to see some of my children doing so well in their lives.” Ending her speech the kind-hearted lady closed her hands in a Namaste and started moving down from the stage.
The entire hall was speechless and then started to roar in claps and praise. The unusual life of Sindhutai was truly an inspiration to all. Even after facing so many hardships, she stood tall and made her way into everyone’s heart. She proved that if you are dedicated, nothing can stop you from changing the lives of thousands of people around you. I salute this brave lady and hope that the country gives birth to many such unsung heroes.