return of the prodigal…

return of the prodigal…

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just got back from chennai and will write about my visit soon …
but today i want to share the joy I felt returning..home!

yes this little planet as i like to call it, has become ‘home’ as isn’t home the place you feel wanted, loved, cared for… was it the little children who ran to me screaming maa’m, or the more subdued ‘morning maa’m’ of the older ones.. was it the relief written large on the faces of some of my colleagues.. or the happy face of TunTun the scooter driver as he drove me to work..

maybe it was all of that ..

or was it the incredible joy and positive energy that dwell in every nook and corner of this little project and was so visible in the faces of the special kids as they greeted me this morning…

yes i was home…

chennai calling

chennai calling

with fisherwomen

when the tsunami – a word none of us knew post 26/12 – waves hit the shores of India on a fateful sunday morning, I did not know that it would create ripples in a little planet tucked away in a small delhi slum.

we set about collecting money for a boat, and we managed to do so in record time. today a beautiful little fishing boat proudly bears the name ‘project why’ as it bobs on the East Coast of India bringing new hope to little children and their families.

in project why classrooms, a picture the little brightly coloured boat is displayed on the walls with great pride, creating new yet invisible bonds.

now as we all know the tsunami relief operation did go a bit out of hand as the world found its lost conscience and wanted to put it to use in a hurry. we managed to convince some donors to set aside a little money for the children of a fishing village and my visit to chennai was to try and see what could be done to erase some of the terrible memories that little minds still carry, and that are often not understood by elders.

A drive along the East Coast Road brought to light many realities that we are unaware of. Several villages have been affected and the fisherman now live in ‘camps’ some of which look unreal, I was horrified by one where dwelling units were made of hessian cloth dipped in black tar, and looked like a vision of hell, others looked a little more welcoming and they used natural thatch. DV Sridharan my guide for the visit, pointed out something I would have missed: carefully worded panels that almost ‘invited’ you to visit these camps. I was appaled by the lack of sensitivity that made a human tragedy into a new form of tourism..

More disturing however was the fact that today many villagers have made releif their main ‘economic’ activity, with fishing taking second place… here again we are made aware of the thin and invisible line that lies between helping and handicapping. When fishermen stop fishing something has gone terribly wrong… whe people start concealing reality in the hope of getting more, the purpose of aid gets defeated… this is something we have also faced time and again, and to my mind herein lies the litmus test of any development work: the ability to know when to stop!

Alas this is easier said than done as the problem does not lie only with the recepient but also with the donor who rides on the high of becoming a temporary god or at least saint of the day!

Then what does one do, become a follower of Diogenes and sink into cynicism, or does one carry on with the hope of being able to stop when the need arises.

That is the question.

Dear Nida….

Dear Nida….

nida

Dear Nida,

Thank you for your lovely mail and of course you can call me Anu!

I chose to answer your mail in this weblog, because much of what I would like to write to you, is what I would like to say to the young women of a land I love with deep passion. I must confess that sometimes I feel very defeated when I see the youth of today, and wonder where, we as parents have gone wrong.

To read that I have inspired you is not only humbling but a vindication of my deep seeded belief that everyone has a heart, maybe we just have forgotten the way to it. I am sure that everyone of you has the potential to make a difference, we just have not been able to show you how!

I do not what what motivated you to spend precious holiday time in the dusty and hot lanes of a slum rather; I do not even know what you were looking for.. I just hope you found it, and I do not think I am wrong, in the eyes of Aditya.

I can also see that you are a woman of substance as you were able to catch the essence of my approach. Yes, Nida deep concern without pity. Pity is a word far too often associated with, what in page 3 terms, would be ‘social work’. Yet it is the one thing that ruins it all.

I think we should all feel some reponsibility towards what we think is wrong, and I do not think that anyone would argue with the fact that little Aditya sleeping hungry is wrong or that young Arun having his operation money diverted to pay for funeral rites is wrong, or that a child’ s school fees going to pay the father’s evening tipple is wrong, or that .. and the list is endless..

The time you spent with us at project why must have shown you how little it takes to set things right. And yet it is so difficult to get even the tiniest bit of support.

I hope you will take this message to your friends and help people find the way to their hearts. And I hope that you will continue to be the woman you are, that you will always find the strength in you to do what you think is right, even if all others think differently.

We will miss you… particularly Aditya….

Note: Nida was a volunteer who worked with us during the summer.


a rupee a day makes the world smaller

a rupee a day makes the world smaller

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I am an Indian expat – living in San Diego, California now. I was born & raised in Delhi, and, like so many others, had become immune to sights and sounds of abject poverty surrounding me everyday. I came across your project while doing some random net surfing during my lunch hour at my work place here, and was touched by the plight of the children. I think you & your team are doing a terrific job, and I wish you every success. I cannot even begin to imagine the kind of hurdles you face in your day to day operations, & I just want to commend you & the rest of your team on your spunk and spirit.
Betsy

I do not know Betsy… I do not know if we will ever meet… maybe we walked on the same street as she grew up in Delhi, two unknown strangers that nothing could or should link.. she went to fulfill her destiny thousands of miles away and I stayed on to fulfill mine… and we should have remained strangers but for project why..

When I wake up at the crack of dawn every morning to catch up with the ever increasing load of work, and switch on my computer, I am often greeted with a message like this one.. and the grey clouds lift to let rays of hope in.. and I am strenghthen in my belief that I chose the right road, even if it is the less travelled one..

I have often been criticised and even sneered at for insisting on my decision to fund project why with the now almost proverbial ‘one rupee a day’! But it is that very ‘one rupee’ that brings to project why the love and good will of so many people dispersed the world over, of people I would have never come across and creates invisble bonds that are priceless..

a rupee a day does make the world smaller!

salt, sugar and a proud mom’s love….

salt, sugar and a proud mom’s love….

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If you look at the picture you will see a little tear that is about to fall… why is aditya crying as he clutches his pink bag?

Some of you may remeber a post in the June archives of this very blog entitled ‘the other WHY’, and the same little aditya asking questions no one would answer..

why did my father die ?
why is everyone so nasty to my mother?
why did no one give me medicine when my face was hurting so much?
why do i hear my mama weep at night?

the questions will remain unanswered.. and many more will appear… as life will continue its often cruel course…

Aditya, who never misses a day at project why had not been coming for the past few days.. This morning we sent Urmila, his favourite teacher, to find out what had happened and my blood ran cold when she came back: Aditya was alone at home, and Neha his mother and his grandmother were out.. a kind neighbour told a stunned Urmila that for the past three days the little proud trio had not eaten anything. The gaz cylinder was over.. and as Urmila perused the tiny kitchen she realised that all the diminutive containers were empty, barring one which had a few grains of lentils…

The neighbour went on to reveal that this proud family never asked for help, and often went to sleep after drinking water to calm the hunger pangs… a message was left asking Neha to come by and Urmila returned and shared what she had seen and heard…

We set up our little support network and decided to fill up the empty boxes and the cylinder so that the little family would not sleep hungry tonight and then we would work out something..

Later Neha came clutching little Aditya and we heard that this proud mother, widowed at an age when one is still a child, had calmed little Aditya’s hunger with water laced with some sugar and salt and dollops of mother’s love…

But there is a god for the lesser ones and he does send angels in different garbs and Aditya’s angel was a kind lady who had come to visit project why and who decided to sponsor these little bravehearts till Neha finished her course and could stand on her own feet…

Little Aditya sat on his mom’s lap listening to everything and I knew that his little soul knew that an angel had flown by…