The eye camp was set up with the help of the Rotary Eye Institute in Navsari and aims to initially screen 500 people for signs of mature cataract and provide treatment that they would otherwise not afford.
�When we arrived at the camp, we were shocked by not only how isolated and remote the village was but also by the intense cold,� explained Elesh Mistry, one of the main organisers. �Our camp was located near a hill, and from the top, we could look out and see the scenic beauty of the surrounding villages. Hirapur village itself was very basic, although beautiful, and the nearest STD phone was over 7 miles away.�
After the Rotary Eye Institute set up a sterilised operation theatre, villagers were screened and prepared for the operation.
�We were allowed into the operating theatre to witness first hand the amazing work of the doctors,� said Mistry. �After seeing the operations in progress we helped to feed the patients who were either coming out of the operating theatre or were waiting to go in. All the people of our group found the experience memorably rewarding.�
�Seeing how the villagers lived motivated us to continue support for such projects. We will certainly organise more eye camps in the future to help people regain or improve their sight,� concluded Mistry.
With no NHS to fall back on, many of the poverty stricken blind people in India simply stay blind. A simple cataract operation costing around Rs.1200 will restore vision to many of these people � and they can then start working and earning a livelihood once again. With one pound exchanging for nearly Rs. 80, even a modest donation can restore the eyesight of a blind person in India. Philanthropic souls who wish to bring some light into the lives of a helpless and blind person can contact Elesh Mistry on 07971186877.
Moving, Moving, Moved
I never realised I had so much stuff stored at home until I moved house. And I never realised how old I was becoming until I started moving heavy boxes � phew! My muscles ache and groan as I am typing away at my column.
My wife and I had been packing for nearly fifteen days so we could move from our modest house in Wembley to a larger house in Hemel Hempstead.
Sunny from the removals company whom I had hired for the day, was shocked at the number of boxes I had stacked up in the living room.
�Asian families always have more boxes,� he sighed in undignified exasperation. �We always stock our kitchens with bulk items, don�t we?�
We soon found out that all the boxes would not fit into the truck. Sunny concluded that he would have to make a second trip back from Hemel to Wembley to pick up the second round of boxes.
I looked at my wife and exclaimed, �It�s all because you have collected so much stuff in your kitchen. It looks like Mita�s Cash and Carry on Ealing Road.�
She looked rather sternly at me and pointed to 20 boxes stacked up in the next room and said accusingly, �And who collected all those books? It looks like the public library in Brent Town Hall.�
I grinned sheepishly and looked away quickly, trying to ignore the huge collection of books I had painstakingly collected over the years.
Sunny, God bless him, came to my rescue and interjected to say, �Books are fine Bhabhiji. If you have books, then it means you are an educated family.�
My wife smirked in distaste and quipped, �Educated, yes � but only if you read them. What is the use of just keeping them on a shelf?.�
I remembered fondly how my cherished books had given me many warm moments of reading whilst curled up inside my quilts. Reading is one of the most pleasurable hobbies of life.
After unpacking half of what we had brought, my wife looked outside our new house which is situated on a hill overlooking a golf course, and exclaimed, �Looking at that beautiful view makes me feel like I am on a holiday. A self-catering one, of course.�
�Holiday, my foot!� I smirked (as it was my turn to smirk now).
Then I suddenly remembered.
She didn�t have to lift , move and heave all those heavy boxes like I had to. No wonder she was holidaying, while I was puffing and panting.