03 January,2021 07:05 AM IST | Mumbai | Meher Marfatia
Children walking with the organisation banner. Pics Courtesy/Cry
In a city that has seen no dearth of effective advertising, a single line from the 1980s made the country's collective heart melt. "Even Rs 20 a month can change the way Raju uses his head". Showing the little boy on a construction site, with arms raised to clutch steady two bricks on his head, it was a soul-stirring appeal.
"The most successful ad we ever produced made people feel they could play a part in some goodness," said Mohammed Khan of Enterprise agency, who wove together the image and words of the haunting creative for Child Relief and You (CRY). In mainstream publications across India, it urged readers to transform the lot of several Rajus from physical labour to a brighter school future. A mere 20 bucks, slowly but surely, swelled the number of then 5,00,000 (soon spiralling to 50,00,000) deprived kids aided by CRY's 63 child-related education projects.
Reaching out with effective messages was seeded as CRY's forte. That ad mirrored the maxim of the organisation's charismatic founder Rippan Kapur. Convinced there had to be meaning bigger and beyond a routine he knew, the shy Air India purser started CRY in 1979.
"Ours was a happy CRY," quipped steadfast partners at CRY like Anahita Devitre, who recall Rippan's keen observation of life in a slum his home overlooked, sharply moulded his sensitivity. Also close to those initial efforts, Geetanjali Khanna, operating from CRY's tiny room at Akash Ganga on Warden Road, reminisced: "On the same floor were a hairdresser, a photographer and an exporter, with a PCO telephone booth at the end of the corridor by the staircase, a spot fraught with electrical repairmen's activity. My work involved contacting people in high positions. Every few days I received a bag of 50-paisa coins from my accountant to make calls. I sat with my appointment diary. The phone gave electric shocks. It was literally a balancing act!"
Grassroots activists in rural areas equally admired Kapur. "Mere jeevan ka matlab hazaaron logon se hai," he told one in Wardha, who commended his dedication despite the fact that "Aeroplane mein udkar kitne badey-badey logon ko miltey thhey".
Forty years ahead of today's "compulsory philanthropy" scene, which mandates that companies have an oiled CSR (corporate social responsibility) machinery in place, Kapur rallied a core band of volunteers and employees to bring aboard sums, ranging from modest 10-rupee sponsorships from peons and secretaries to heavier cheques from wealthier donors.
Technical Advisor on CRY's grant-making strategy, Srilatha Batliwala, says, "Rippan revolutionised philanthropy in India, proving ordinary people, not just the wealthy, could - and should - contribute to a great cause. It was a radical idea which tens of thousands of people from all walks of life embraced."
Coaxing and goading, Kapur fired the more privileged to share skills and resources. With a nose sniffing opportunities and intuition for the strength of small, he tirelessly recruited support for projects, stopping at nothing. In the moving documentary, Remembering Rippan, Bombay voices from the 1980s-'90s testify to his persuasive powers.
He did it all, from cadging an acquaintance's motorcycle as transport for early CRY activities to cajoling prominent painters like Husain, Raza, Jehangir Sabavala, Ram Kumar, Badri Narayan and B Prabha. Anjolie Ela Menon admits she was "really quite electrified" by the complete coolness with which he asked, "Can you give us a painting?" She did, from her famed Heads series. It got duly imprinted on everybody's link to CRY: greeting cards.
The Art for CRY exhibition was inaugurated at Jehangir Art Gallery by JRD Tata, with PM Rajiv Gandhi attending. In 1988, this was the first comprehensive display of contemporary Indian art for an NGO. Its catalogue has become a collector's item. Resource Coordinator Tara Sabavala, who introduced JRD to the organisation, says, "Everything that went with the Art for CRY event - the communication material, the publicity it attracted, the artists participating - was the turning point for CRY in terms of visibility."
Kapur's gut view held that if you touched people, drawing on their sense of caring, the money followed. Batliwala says, "Instinct may seem an irrational response, yet it has a role to play in grant-making. I didn't recognise it. As my respect for Rippan grew, I was more aware of how his instincts came to play in decision-making."
Standing the concept of charity on its head, Kapur silenced sceptics by dispelling the notion of funding reliant on hefty donations from conglomerates. Making any person realise that whatever was possible to do simply had to be done, the confirmed dreamer rarely took constraints seriously, focusing instead on potential and possibilities.
Possessing the capacity to not only conceptualise grand plans but execute them to the last detail, he brought audacity and ambition to CRY. The hidden showman in him amazingly arranged Circus Magic, a memorable performing act for which he specially imported English clowns on stilts. Walking off an Air India flight, the troupe workshopped with kids they later entertained on the Marine Drive promenade.
"Rippan very strongly felt adults didn't respect children, give them what they needed," says former CEO Pervin Varma, now a trustee. "In 1979, we were the Africa of the world - a closed economy with a firewall between the social development and private sectors. Along came 25-year-old Rippan, convinced, 'We are going to raise donations within India.' He had no clue of corporate or social work. Rather than stay limited by that, we benefitted hugely from it. After him, at first, we were dead against advocacy but 200 of our partners pushed us because we were the sole such national organisation in the country. We went from being a funding organisation to facilitating community empowerment."
Ingrid Srinath, who joined CRY in 1998 as Regional Director (West), going on to become Director, Resource Mobilisation and CEO, underlines the progression. "It was gratifying to build a resource mobilisation system, encompassing different channels from face-to-face and cause-related marketing to online and diaspora fundraising. This grew CRY's income manifold, achieving revenues less dependent on individual abilities and more predictable, allowing for longer-term planning as well as investments in training, technology and talent. Our challenges entailed unlearning unhealthy 'top-down command-and-control', corporate habits and acclimatising to democratic, consensus-building ways. A 90 per cent cut in salary wasn't easy, nor the absence of comforts from air-conditioning to quality of toilets."
In 2004, Child Relief and You transitioned to Child Rights and You. For Srinath the switch converted an urban middleclass compassion-driven response to poverty and inequality to a citizen's movement towards entitlements through advocacy and campaigning. She says, "Witnessing 'relief' change to 'rights' and come to life in the Constitution amendment making education a fundamental right for all Indian children, was a highlight of my time at CRY."
If Varma and Srinath were in advertising before CRY, professionals with an MBA background came in too. While her job as Executive Assistant to Ratan Tata offered wonderful experience, Indira Pant wanted an emotional connection with people she helped - "Working to institutionalise Rippan's vibrant, utterly brilliant vision absorbed me. Younger than most, with no credibility in the not-for-profit space, I had to develop productive relationships with a much larger group fully committed to CRY. However, there was a shared, unambiguous recognition that nothing mattered other than the children we were there for. They were important, their well-being brought us deep contentment."
From being Brand Manager at Procter & Gamble, CS Mahesh headed CRY's Products Division. "I functioned like a general manager, handling a variety of tasks and span of control from printing to sales of cards, calendars and customised pieces," he says. "We turned things around financially once we could counter the notion CRY perceived as setting it apart: that it was not a corporate. This dangerous insistence stops seeing good in corporate structure. The trend is true of plenty of NGOs because it bolsters their identity."
Present CEO, Puja Marwaha, suggests it is sincerity of purpose that shines out as the binding force behind the success story of 41 years. "This construct is a fine thread running through the victories. CRY is about becoming your best real self. There is beauty in this intertwining - to build an institution of worth, you must first be invested in self-development. There's no shame thinking this."
On the April 1994 day he died, at just 40, Kapur lay in bed surrounded by well-wishers. "They were bringing things, feeding him what he could barely keep down. I've never seen somebody finally go with so much love around," a college friend recollects. One steady flame had lit so many candles, opened so many doors. The momentum he got going, the spirit infused, was bound to survive as responsibly as it does.
Indira Pant says, "Though it sounds contradictory, I've never been as filled with hope as in my time with CRY, despite seeing the most gut-wrenching suffering and wretchedness. Visiting projects, listening to our development team describe achievements, pulling together as we grappled with horrendous setbacks and obstacles, made for intense, fulfilling years. CRY has shaped my every significant choice thereafter."
Author-publisher Meher Marfatia writes fortnightly on everything that makes her love Mumbai and adore Bombay. Reach her at meher.marfatia@mid-day.com/www.mehermarfatia.com
