A small story of India, a story whose ending happened just minutes ago … a touching story of the bond between a young man and one of my dearest friends in the United States, and how that bond changed the young man’s life forever.

Ten years ago, my friend was filmed by National Geographic on a archaelogical "dig" in Iran.  In an unbelievable series of events, she met a young Iranian there who became like a son to her, eventually becoming her ward.  For the past 10 years, the boy - now become man - has been educated by her at Nehru University in New Delhi.  . one of the few places that an Iranian was welcomed.  The boy excelled, becoming head of the large Foreign Student Association.  One degree followed another.  Nine years later, today, - a beautifully bound book arrived from New Delhi - a book two inches thick.  His hopes and dreams - and hers - had finally come true.  It was his PhD dissertation, dedicated to his Nina, my friend.  It was dedicated to this now dying woman, 88, who had made him believe that if he reached for the sky, he would find it.

On a separate page were framed these words:

No one else’s contribution has been more influential, supportive, generous and kind than my Nina’s, who has turned to be my most caring friend, mother, and teacher for almost a decade.  At a time when all had left, I was sure my soulmate was there for me, though thousands of miles away.  For not a single moment did she leave me on my own.  To me she was like Shams, and I wonder if I had been a disciple worth of her devotions and visions.  All of my visions for the world, my expansions of the horizons for understanding others, peace and prosperity for all nations, and affection for humanity did shape and grow with her and by her.  Without that name in my life, neither this work would have been able to come to its final printed form - nor could I have been the person I am today.  Thus, the work belongs to her.

Nina, now bedridden,  and I cried and cried upon reading this.  It was India that had opened its heart to Masoud, giving him an education that - in watching and listening - I was amazed at in a country with its problems.  He was nurtured by many at higher levels - those who saw great potential in this boy.    Always, he reached for the sky, believed that he could reach the heavens, as Nina said, and now doors have opened for him in unexpected places.

This is one story of many, but one that has involved my time and my heart also over these years.  Little did I know then that I would come to know India well as I read the daily journals of the ups and the deep deep downs of life there.  And - if we believe we can change only one person’s life at a time - then today is one of celebration. 

While I’m moved by the warm and fussy stories of human connection and Shibani Joshi reports of the modernity she discovered when returning to the land of her parents. I had hoped she would give a detailed report of the extreme poverty India’s poor face daily. So, I’ll fill in the blanks. 

I’m speaking specifically of child prostitution child labor and poverty. I’ll never forget the horrific stories, information and films shared recently by a college professor. A female professor who is a native of India. The stories of children losing their eyesight  working illegally in poorly lid factories weaving rugs. Childen blinded by adults selling them into prostitution and panhandling. Children organized and employed by criminals. These children live with these criminals only if they bring in their quota of money. They turn in the money and are given a small percentage. Children both male and female servicing American and European pedophiles. Children as young as seven years of age.

Persons disguised as tourists looking for entertainment. There’re documentaries produced everyday.

India’s poor families live in the equivalent of shacks. Shacks with dirt floors. Communities smelling of the stench of human and animal waste. Families too poor to provide their children with a formal education. Instead they send their children out to beg for their daily bread.

"Outsourcing"

American Manufacturers outsource where the labor is cheap. Why pay an adult union employee twenty dollars per hour when you can pay a child laborer two dollars per day or less or an adult two or three dollars an hour? The same companies and corporations that charge American consumers exorbitant fees for goods an services.

If you want jobs for Americans. You have to become pro-active. Only purchase your goods and services from those who do not exploit children. Contact your political officials. Contact manufacturers.

Who remembers watching the Oscars? "Slumdog Millionaire" won for Best Picture of the year. The producers paraded all these young and impressionable children of India before the media and public. These wonderful men supposedly rescued these children form a life of poverty. The families of these children were promised homes. The children were promised formal educations and trust funds. These children were exploited and received nothing!

I hope to be able to visit India in years to come. I hope by that time it hasn’t turned everything beautiful about the country into tourist traps.