/ Our Founder

Anumuthu Chinnaraj

“Anumuthu, wake up! It’s 5:30, the sun is rising. We have a long journey ahead, and we’ll be late for work,” my mother would call out every morning. I vividly recall the many times I would cry bitterly, resisting the early wake-up, yet I always yielded to her persistent calls, understanding the love and sense of responsibility that drove her—to ensure our family was fed. 

My father was a woodcutter, and my mother a homemaker. Despite our modest means, we were a happy family. My sister and I found joy in playing all day and eating whenever hunger struck. But this semblance of happiness abruptly vanished when my father passed away. The responsibility of caring for our family fell solely on my mother’s shoulders, forcing an immediate and profound shift in our lives. 

Unprepared for any form of work, my mother faced overwhelming challenges. We had no property to sell for survival funds, nor relatives to offer support. In desperation, my mother and I began working as daily laborers on a farm, from 6 a.m. to 2 p.m. each day. At the tender age of seven, I labored under the scorching sun alongside adults, expected to produce the same output as them. It was an arduous task—especially during cotton harvesting, when the thorns would scrape my delicate skin, leaving me in pain and tears throughout the night. For all this toil, my mother earned ₹6, and I earned ₹4 daily, a total of ₹10 that barely sustained four mouths, three meals a day. Rice water and pickle became our staple diet, though there were countless nights we went to bed hungry, dreaming of meals we could not afford.

At the age of 11, my life took a positive turn. Rev. Joe Arimpoor SDB, a compassionate Catholic priest, extended his helping hand and rescued me from destitution. He enrolled me in a boarding school, where I completed my education, trained in electrical work, and qualified as a professional ad filmmaker, ultimately securing a job.

In December 2000, late on Christmas night, I encountered an old, naked man curled up on the street, shivering in the biting winter cold. His groaning cries of discomfort stopped me in my tracks. I immediately rushed to a nearby telephone booth and called an uncle to request an old bedsheet to cover the man. To my surprise and dismay, my uncle replied, “I don’t have anything to spare.” The insensitivity of privileged individuals toward the poor and destitute haunted me. I returned home with a heavy heart, deeply disturbed by this encounter. It marked a pivotal moment, igniting within me a resolve to dedicate my life to aiding the neglected elderly and sick individuals on the streets.

As a filmmaker and editor, I spent years perfecting imperfect scenes on screen. Yet, the realities of life remained stark and unyielding. My experiences with heart-wrenching stories compelled me to leave my profession and embark on a mission to transform the real lives of homeless and marginalized individuals on the streets of Pondicherry.

I firmly believe that every person holds intrinsic value and deserves dignity. Having lived through the struggles of poverty, hunger, rejection, loneliness, and despair, I deeply relate to the plight of homeless people. This understanding inspired me to start volunteering at organizations like Mother Teresa Home and Birds of the Air. Together, we distributed food and clean clothing packets, reached out to the most vulnerable individuals, and listened to their stories. These interactions rejuvenated my spirit and solidified my commitment to working alongside them.

My ultimate vision is to foster a society where homeless individuals are accepted, valued, loved, and integrated into the community, living alongside others as equal, dignified human beings.