by Anuradha Bakshi | May 22, 2009 | Uncategorized
As I climbed up the stairs to my office I peeped into the creche. I was taken aback at the number of kids present. It seemed far more crowded than usual. I waved everyone a cheery hello and moved on. I was a little angry as I had time and again told the staff not to admit too many kids in a class.
Upon reaching my office I called my programme in charge and asked her why there were so many kids in the creche. She simply told me that this was only for the summer months. Apparently the parents of many of our regular creche children had pleaded with us to accept some siblings for the duration of the holidays. The reason: their homes were very hot and the older siblings had nowhere to go. All my anger fizzled out. I knew hat they were talking about: tiny windowless rooms with tin roofs that turned into ovens under the scorching sun. I had nothing left to say, anything was better than that.
The pwhy classroom is not five star. But it is large, has fans and even an inverter that ensures that fans runs even during outages. Their is coll drinking water and often if the kids are dirty or too hot, the staff gives them a cool bath. Many of the homes do not have water in summer.
When the heat is on, life is not easy for anyone but in slums it turns into a nightmare. At least at pwhy, the children can beat the summer, albeit for a few hours!
by Anuradha Bakshi | May 19, 2009 | Uncategorized
Our little foster care kids are home for their summer break. I went to fetch them at the boarding school and before we could leave I was given the grand tour!
This is my classroom said one, while the other tugged at my shirt with a come to my classroom. We went to each classroom and collected every one’s summer home work. Then I was taken to the hostel and everyone showed their little bed. The bigger boys who share a room even showed us how they slept! The excitement was palpable, the smiles larger than life and you could see that all the kids loved their school. The ride back home was replete with stories. What was high on the agenda was the picnic at the amusement park and the water rides and the yummy ice cream.
I listened to my little slumpups and took in every word they said. It was intoxicating as it vindicated everything one had faced and fought for. Looking at them and listening to their happy babble made me realise that we were truly on track.
by Anuradha Bakshi | May 15, 2009 | Uncategorized
The three children in this picture are siblings. They have just joined our crèche. They all hail from Nepal and have recently come to Delhi. When I fist saw them I asked why the elder ones had been admitted to the early education programme. They seemed far too old for it and should have been enrolled in a proper school.
The answer was simple and poignant. The children did not speak or understand Hindi. They only spoke Nepali. There was no way they could attend any school. What my staff proposed was to slowly teach them Hindi and then perhaps a year or two down the lone get them admitted to a proper school in class II. They felt that in the crèche, even though they were bigger than the rest of the kids, they would be able to slowly grasp and learn a new language. I simply agreed.
The plight of children who migrate from other parts of India or as is the case here from another country altogether, is often tragic. The parents often flee their homes for economic reasons – a flood, a dry spell, a natural disaster – and come to a strange city. The father does manage to get a job and the rest of the family has to learn to cope in new surroundings. Older children are the ones who suffer the most as they cannot integrate any school and are often left to their own devices. They are rarely accepted by other children and often become the butt of ridicule. They thus grow up lonely and rejected. No one really cares about their future.
The three kids in the picture may be able to break free and integrate a school, make new friends and build their tomorrows, but what about the thousands and more who will never get a proper chance and will have to learn to survive on their own. Some will join the ranks of child labour and be seen washing dishes at a tea shop or cleaning other people’s homes. Others may fall prey to predators. Such is the plight of children who migrate with their families to big cities.
by Anuradha Bakshi | May 15, 2009 | Uncategorized
I have been watching with amused horror tinged with extreme sadness the poll games being played with alacrity over the past few days. These are being reported by all media channels for all to see. It is an almost foregone conclusion that no one party will emerge as a winner in election 2009. It is also a sure thing that the government will be a coalition of many parties.
The poll games I refer to are the permutations and combinations that are being worked out even before the first vote is out of the ballot box. For the past few days we have been witnessing umpteen debates and discussions by the top brains of the media and political pundits about the probable possibilities. The games go like this: if XYZ gets so many votes then it could ally with ABC and so on. What is alarming is that there seems to be no importance attached to values of any kind. Left can ally with right, secular with communal, friend with foe. It does not matter. What matters is who will sit on the coveted chair. The games get subtler as everyone wants his or her pound of flesh. If XYZ helps me bring the state government down, then I will support them, or they can have my support if they give me a coveted post.
Ideologies do not matter. There is no room for loyalty. Anyone can become friend or foe in the span of a second. Manifestos are forgotten and so are promises. No one cares about the fact that millions are without water, or schools, or health care or food. All is forgotten when playing poll games. The cat will be out of the bag in a few hours and we can expect furious rounds of poll games till the dust settles and rather till the moment the coveted chair is finally conquered.
by Anuradha Bakshi | May 14, 2009 | God of lesser beings
Sponsoring a child is quite a favourite with NGOs the world over. Large ads in all shades of media soliciting you to become a sponsor are more than abundant. For a few pennies, you are told, you can change the life of a child. I do not know why but I never warmed up to the idea. In days when I was myself a donor, I never sponsored a child. I preferred giving to organisations that I felt were doing good work. I cannot say why, but sponsoring a child was almost anathema.
Years went by and I found myself on the other side of the fence. I was the one needing donors. My bête noire remained and we never went the sponsorship way. I was even vindicated when I visited an orphanage and saw sponsored kids with their Superhero school bags almost ostracised by their peers who only had dull cloth bags. Whenever anyone suggested we go the sponsorship way, I resisted vehemently proffering a litany of reasons against the very thought.
Never say never is a maxim that is always proved true and is not necessity the mother of all inventions? And above all are not the morrows of my children far more important than any quirk of mine? When our little foster care kids were left high and dry by a potential benefactor, the only road we could walk was the sponsorship one. And then when we were recently faced with a huge hole in our budget and had to face the aftermath of recession, the sponsorship issue came up again. Many felt that this was an option that would endure all economic mishaps.
After much deliberations and thought we decided to launch a sponsorship programme, whereby we requested donors to sponsor not one specific child, but children within a group. For a fixed amount of money you would sponsor one special child, or two crèche children or 4 school going children. We at pwhy, would have a blog that would keep the sponsor abreast with everything that was going on. The programme was launched recently and we are still waiting to see whether it would bring the fruits expected. I pray it does.
For me personally it has been another milestone. I look at it as yet another test thrown my way by the God of Lesser Beings to see how far I would go to protect the smiles I hold in custody.
As I climbed up the stairs to my office I peeped into the creche. I was taken aback at the number of kids present. It seemed far more crowded than usual. I waved everyone a cheery hello and moved on. I was a little angry as I had time and again told the staff not to admit too many kids in a class.
