if ever there was…

if ever there was…

jon1
Jonathan Blake Wade
1950 – 2005

If ever there was a man who epitomized all that project why stands for it would be Jon..
A human being
par excellence..
A man who was first a man, before being white, or brown, british, or indian..
He transcended the usual tags and definitions, and refused to be locked in the little boxes of religion, country, race, colour and all that divides…
Born british he chose to be an Indian and imbibed in every pore the essence of India at its best..
Son of a pastor he chose to follow a universal religion that encompassed nothing short of the greatest..

If ever there was a friend that gave friendship its true meaning it was Jon…
Always present when needed, he knew the art of tiptoeing away when the task was done..
Generous to a fault with his time, his patience and his love, Jon found a special place in the hearts of everyone who met him, albeit for an instant..

If ever there was a man who embodied all that project why stands for and strives to impart, it was Jon..
A man who stood by his convictions and his beliefs and never gave in to the flavour of the moment..
A man who had the guts to walk the right path, even if it was the more difficult one..
A man who displayed courage and fortitude in the face of any obtsacle and always found the right solution…
A man who was simply ‘ a man’ !

The children and staff of project why mourn the loss of Jonathan Blake Wade who for the past five years was on its Board of Directors

New Delhi August 20th, 2005

a ‘note’ to remember…

a ‘note’ to remember…

note1

the door bell rang and for once it was not the impatient courier man, but Ram Lakhan, our good old postman!

Strange it had been a long time since one had seen him. I had almost forgotten the days when one waited for the postman at given times, .. how he had been part of so many memories, happy ones and sad ones.. but then with the advent of emailing and courier services, Ram Lakhan had faded away like so many good things..

But today there he was, looking older and greyer, but still smiling as he shouted: ‘money order didi’!

I walked towards the gate as he fished the money order out of his wizened bag, and looked bewildered at the one hundred rupee note he held out. On the form, was a hand written message form an unknown person hailing from Pune that simply said: a small contribution for the work you are doing…

I was moved beyond words as, with a shaky hand and clouded eyes, I signed the receipt. To me in this slightly crumpled note lay the heart of India. Who was this unknown indian who had read about our work and thought it valuable enough to deserve his trust and this note.

I held on to it for a long time… feeling humbled and elated .. feeling I had finally found the way home…

leave your shoes at the door…

leave your shoes at the door…

shoes

In many parts of our country and in many lands across our planet, shoes are left outside the homes.. a custom that makes a lot of sense which ever way you look at it

if one were to take the image a little further, one could also think of it as a way to leave problems and tensions that are part of our ‘outside’ world, before we enter the haven of our homes..

On the tiny planet we have conjured and called why a lot of shoes have to be left at the treshold.. and they are those that we have been made to wear because of our own ignorance, our inability to look with our hearts, our short sightedness..

They are the shoes that divide us and marginalise some of us, the ones that we often wear without realising or comprehending: they have names yes, names we often see on news headlines whenever ugly incidents occur: caste, religion, gender, colour, race….

At project why, these are left outside with the hope that one day we will forget to wear them, the day we will be truly ‘educated’… and hence trule independant.

Happy Independence Day!

August 15th 2005

where children dare to dream

where children dare to dream

special


project why.. where children dare to dream..

were the words that came instinctively to my mind when I designed the first project why brochure. they have remained there, unnoticed… but somehow quietly guiding us in our task…

when our friends from Japan decided to celebrate the Tanabata festival at project why, even though it was a bit delayed, we were thrilled, as this was a great step in our ‘exchange’ programme with Japan.

Nauko and her formidable gang of lovely ladies came with huge bamboo stems and every child wrote his or her wish on a little piece of colourful paper that would be tied on the stems…

I decided to give a set to the special section.. and they too wrote their wishes :

Umesh, our spastic child who can barely walk wants to fly an areoplane,
Preeti who is not loved by anyone wants to be a mother
Soni who is always in love wants to dance with Salman Khan
Anurag locked in his autism wants to drive a car
Shalini our down syndrome girl wants to be a doctor
Pinki who has severe retardation wants to be a police woman
Ruchi who suffers from a severe nervous condition wants to be a teacher
Manu, yes our very own Manu wants to be a monitor
Rajni our lohar mental retarded child simply wants to eat delicious food ..

Read these dreams again as they are a true reflection of the lonely lives of these kids.

yes they have dreams, the very children we feel uncomfortable with, the children that are cast aside by their own family, those who do not even get proper food let alone love.. they have dreams..

In the five years that project why has been in existence, this is the first time I felt I had achieved something… yes planet why is a place where all children can dare to dream..

insects and blows, lesser souls’ woes..

insects and blows, lesser souls’ woes..

shramik centre

let me tell you a tale.

once upon not so long ago there lay an unused palace in south delhi district.. it had been a labour court, but then as it lost occupants and soul, it lay empty sometimes utilised for noisy and messy marriage functions that left their plastic scars..

occupants of a strange planet called why did try to get it to live again and wrote numerous petitions suggesting it become a place for children and elders and find its soul again..

one day there was flurry and activity and buckets of paints, and grass and flowers: time for a great makeover and the once cast aside lady became almost a beauty…

cars rolled by and many queens and kings came to the second coming of age ball.. then big hoardings appeared bearing the little red ribbon that names today’s dreaded scare and tiny letters spelt out the wonderland that was to enfold..

even planet why was happy, something was in the offing..

but great locks and iron gates were set up, no one knew what happened there..

then one fine morning, actually it was today, a kind hearted lady who lives near there stopped us and with great angst told us that all was not well behind the iron bars, that old deranged women and hurting people were beaten with sticks and blows.. that something needed to be done.. it was not a land of love and care..

the words on the board did mention the old and the ailing and many souls of lesser gods..
what was happening..

was that the plight of the ones that even families hoped to wish away, those like our darling Preeti who ate flies and insects to fgeed a starving body till one day someone in her own family would lock her in the place where they fed you blows!

insects and blows are lesser children’s woes.

all is not well in the state of….