He Kindles Wanderlust In Cocooned City Children

Such affinity with nature prompted Sengupta to launch Wanderlust, a nature camp for children, two years ago. He had originally started by getting a Calcutta mountaineering club to arrange nature treks for children 13 years ago. Six camps had followed in the next six years with groups of 20 to 50 children. "It's a great feeling to get children close to nature. Away from their sheltered lives in the city," he says. But the relationship with the club soured and Sengupta dropped out. In the next three years, he arranged annual nature camps for children with the help of another social service organisation. "Then I thought why not take charge of the whole thing and start something more meaningful," says the soft-spoken naturalist. Thus, Sengupta's own nature camp initiative, Wanderlust, was born.

Under this project, a group of children aged between 9 and 13 go on a week-long nature study and adventure camp in the forests every year. About 50 per cent of the trekkers are deaf and dumb children. Far from the madding city crowds, these campers learn about rocks, watch birds, identify insects, try their hand at cooking, climb trees, read maps and pick up virtually everything about camping out independently. When night falls, the children light campfires, tell stories, play games and recite poems. It's a unique nature camp-a five-year course divided into week-long annual excursions. "The aim is to make the children live close to nature so that they can brave the elements," says Sengupta.

There have been moments of high adventure for his campers. When a girl from the group suffered an epileptic attack on a squally night in the Purulia forests, two instructors sped away on a motorcycle to the nearest town for a vial of an injection. On their way back, the two riders were waylaid. They finally managed to reach the camp with the vial. When the girl's condition slightly improved after she was given a shot, an elephant invaded the camp. Locals chased it away. "It all happened on a single night," recounts Sengupta.

The deaf and dumb children are an integral part of Wanderlust's camps. Sengupta felt that these children "were possibly the most neglected among the disabled because people tend to make fun of them". So he got students from two city deaf and dumb schools to participate in his camps. "They brimmed with confidence after the excursions," says Sengupta.

In the past two years, the Wanderlust children had camped in the Purulia forests. This year-end, a group of 55 boys and girls-30 of them deaf and dumb-camped in Bathanbari forests near the Maithon dam on the Bihar-West Bengal border. Sengupta does his best to make these camps an enriching experience for the children: geologists, mountaineers, teachers, post-graduate students and at least two doctors accompany the kids every year.

However, funds are a major problem. A child pays Rs 500 to participate in the camp. Even instructors pay the same. But costs have soared and Sengupta and his men often struggle to make ends meet. In Purulia, for instance, the local police had ferried Wanderlust's children between the railway station and the camp and had even supplied a dozen tents. "Money is obviously a problem but the biggest worry is the non-availability of enough instructors to accompany and train these children," says Sengupta. If you wish to lend a helping hand, write to Asok Sengupta at AG-182, Prafulla Kana, Calcutta 700059, or call (033) 4254006.