There are only two ways to live your life. One is as though nothing is a miracle. The other is as though everything is a miracle. (Albert Einstein)
It took me a long time to decide what the post on the last day of 2005 would be, and then I came across this quote that said it all..
On planet why we live life the later way. We have had our share of miracles , big and small, in 2005. So many that I feel overwhelmed: when the tsunami hit our coasts, pwhy kids did the imposible and collected 60 000 rs and bought a small kuppam (fisherman’s village) a fibreglass boat that sails every day bearing the name project why on its hull; Arun got a new heart, the started walking, the children brought us a 100% results
The internet wove its magic and friends appreared from the world over: a raffle was organised in the US, a short story competition took place in the UK, and each time we were in need, invisible angels appeared and pulled us through..
And there is more, Babli’s operation is on the anvil as we have the required funds, and little Nanhe will also be operated upon and have a painfree existence..
The adoption plan we put up is slowly fall in in place and we know that it will happen sooner than later, as so many friends have put us on their sites and blog pages
There were difficult moments… when we discovered Munna’s little family but one phone call later and another angel did the job.. Munna’s family will have a warm new year and take its first steps towards better times…
We had a party hosted by a lady just 8 months old, and a wedding so different from the ones we see.. we even made it to newspapers and had our moment in the sun!
As I write these words I am overwhelmed by the abundance of gifts recieved and somewhat humbled …
To all those who made this possible I would like simply to say: thank you!
Many of us will sit down tomorrow night to usher 2006. There will be lights, and warmth and food and music.. no matter how chilly the night.
In the same city Munna’s little family will sit in the dark, the only light being that of an oil lamp… Munna is 9 and suffers from mental retardation. He has been at project why for a few weeks. He has three younger siblings and brave parents who came to the city, floods having washed away the little land they had. the father earns the princely sum of 1000/rs, and the family lives on that.
The little family juggles with the sum to make both ends meet, so they have decided not to get an electric connection, and when vicky 3 and shakuntala 1 are hungry, the mother breastfeeds them.. Sapna goes to school, and Munna and Vicky come to pwhy. The children have barely any warn clothes, and the mother has none. Despite his limited capacities, Munna is very much the elder brother and in his own endearing way watches over little Vicky and helps his mother as best he can.
We were moved by the quiet dignity we saw in the face of such adversity. There were no complaints, no soliciting for help, on the contrary when ve visited them, we were offered food and tea.. the rules of hospitality were impeccable.
As we left munna’s home many questions came to our mind: how did anyone live in a thousand rupees? How could any employer give a thousand rupees for a day’s work – Munna’s father beats iron for a living -? and above all how could we help them …
The picture shows Nanhe on his nth visit to the hospital. It is no mean task for a child who cannot walk, is incontinent, is in pain and never complains.
For the past two months come monday and the trio of Nanhe, his mom and Meena our staffer, sets off in the cold or rain to the hospital located a few kilometers away. In the afternoon the trio comes back, and whereas the adults frown or complain, Nanhe smiles on.. the scenario is repeated the next friday and so on. Sometimes another test is needed, sometimes an xray has to be redone.. and the date for the much needed surgery to put an end to the excruciating pain of one suffering from multiple calculi seems as elusive as the scarlet pimpernel.
No I should not be complaining. A recent press report revealed that the waiting time for surgery in India’s capital city’s only state hospital for children was four years resulting in parents having to find resources to take their children to private hospitals, here it has only been two months.
Nanhe needs another test that cannot be done in Safdarjung Hopsital. The doctor scribbled a referral on his green card, and the trio set out to AIIMS but to our utter horror no one could figure out what was written. By the time they had finished their rounds in search of information, poor nanhe in tow, public dealing time was up. Come again tomorrow..
Enough is enough, today a senior staffer will go to the hospital and find out the exact name of all the tests required and the name of a private lab that the hospital endorses and we will get all the tests done.
But that is not the answer because every hurting child does not have a pwhy like support. Parents have meagre resources that soon dry out. In a case like Nanhe who cannot travel by bus, each trip is costly and then even caring parents give up on a child who is not even an investment in ones’ future: remember nanhe is severly retarded..
But does one give up on a smile like nanhe’s…
It was party time on planet why thanks to a little girl who lives far away in England. Dhanya had decided to give a very special gift to pwhy a xmas party.
We had two parties one for the big kids with DJ and coffee machine and one for the tiny tots and special kids. The common denominator: everyone had their dancing shoes on..
They danced with abandon and grace. There were the little ones and the big ones, the lohars, the special kids, the guests and the staff. It was touching to see that everyone no matter how little they had, no matter how tiny and dark their home, everyone had made the effort to be beautiful. You could see the younger girls with hurriedly applied make up, the high heels that made one wobble a little, the bright coloured shirts the boys doned with new found confidence, the hair pasted with gel in the latest style.
As the DJ belted out favourites, squeals of joy could be heard as the dance floor filled with would be stars trying to match the steps seen on the ever present TV screen. The energy was palpable, the mood upbeat and the party a success.
Even the little ones the next day, some not quite three, took to the floor with the same aplomb. And everyone, big or small enjoyed the food. But the proverbial clock would strike midnight and the party had to end before the magic weared out. The coachmen of the night – radhey, tuntun and sitaram – were there to see everyone safely home.
What was truly remarkable was the impeccable behavior of these often misunderstood children. No food was wasted, no fight occured, no one was teased or laughed at and to my utter surprise nothing littered the floor after everyone had left. Every plate, cup and napkin had been placed in the right bins..
A lesson for all…
I was extremely saddened and somewhat angry to read this post.
I could feel the palpable angst that permeated each word.. as this lovely child of India questioned her very being..
No child, no one can take away from you the right to love and care for your country whether you wake up in it every morning or miles away in another land, that right is indubitably yours.. what is sad is that many of those who question it with such vehemence are the very ones who have forgotten how to love their land..
No one can stop you from commenting on its faults or praising its achievements as long as your person enough to accept responsibility for what it has become and do what you think is right to change things..
I speak from experience as in the past year I have seen that it is people like you who have come forward to help us make a difference, people whose hearts beats for India even if they are miles away..whereas those who breathe its air, enjoy its resources, live on the fruits of the toil of its humble people have lost the ability to care for it..
You need prove nothing… your words say it all!