by Anuradha Bakshi | Oct 14, 2005 | Uncategorized
Saturday 8th October, 2005, is another day which will be remembered as one when Nature decides to remind us of our station on planet Earth..
The earth shook and thousands died.. scores of thousands lost everything they had taken a life time to build… and nature took less than a minute to anihilate..
And as usual the world’s collective conscience also shook and the act of giving was suddenly revived and put into gear.. everywhere, everyone, everything was spelling ‘donate’…
Since we began project why we have been through two earthquakes, one flood, one tsunami and survived… though it has in no way been easy..
Project why was even strong enough to donate one fishing boat to a fishermen’s village in Tamil Nadu …
Over the past six years getting funds for project why has been more than a herculean task as it has put to test every fibre of one’s being.
But let us stop for a while and ask a simple question: what do we seek money for…
- a child’s heart surgery
- another’s one education
- a better future for those cast aside by society
- a dignified job for one who would have been condemned to clean another one’s dirt
- a better deal for an invisible little girl
- a chance to deal with age old social evils
- smiles, hope, a better tomorrow
When calamity strikes and people find their conscience and sometimes a way of getting rid of the overpowering clutter of their homes – that is why micro mini skirts find their way to traditional south indian villages – they do so prompted by an overkind media which for a few days does not let them forget the pain and agony people are going thorugh..
We deal with invisible, intagible pain, we deal with long term solutions one that cannot be caught on camera even by the best lensperson.. one you discover everyday when you walk the very lanes that many find an eyesore…
Both forms of giving are essential and necessary, in today’s term if one is a down payment, the other is a long time investment.. but we have forgotten this though it is just another manifestation of the dual view of life -the micro and the macro – one that is part of our atavist making..
When I pitched the one-rupee-a-day option, it was in keeping with this reality of life, hoping that if people found the large number for calamities, they would still spare the one unit for the future..
Was I wrong?
My intuition tells me I am not, it is just a mater of time..
So the waiting continues
by Anuradha Bakshi | Oct 11, 2005 | sustainability
Today was a great day on planet why…
After much activity we finally got our first in house cloth bag … yes truly in house.. stitched by our very special kids under the hawk eye of their stitching teacher and printed on in our own in house printing unit…
Yes we have our screens, the lay out was done in our computer centre by our very own Mithu and then the printing was done under the suprevision of Dharmendra who heads our sustainability programme..
The message simply says:
project why children say No to plastic bags, and so do I..
they will soon be on sale and we can even add the company’s name or the buyers name or any other message. the bags are lightweight and can be folded and slipped into pockets or even tucked into the tiniest of bags. we hope they will help in containing the plastic menace that is now taking on alarming proportions.. and will go a long way in giving our special kids they social dignity they deserve
we also hope that all our friends will help us market these in a large way and will also come up with new suggestions to make this a great success
for further information mail shamika at shambakshou@yahoo.co.in
by Anuradha Bakshi | Oct 11, 2005 | girl child
why am i being worshiped today?
asks a bewildered little girl.. and she has good resaons to pose that question, as on all other 364 days she is never treated like this..
today is ashtami the eight day of Durga Puja.. today the very people who wish for a boy, are willing to abort a female foetus with impunity, curse the existence of their daughters and the burden they are, those very people will seek eight little girls or kanjanks, bring them to their home and treat them like goddesses..
even at project why most of the girls did not come and were seen scurrying from one home to another, to be ‘worshiped’ and feted. but tomorrow will come, a tomorrow when things will go back to normal: the same little girls will once again bear to the burden of being a girl!
It is strange that a land where Godesses are worshiped and prayed to, girls and women find no place… is also one where their very being is a matter of sorrow, where one who does not bear sons is riled , no matter how educated you are… where even law of genetics are reinterpreted..
I was asked by a western friend about the ‘missing girl syndrome‘. I guess the chilling scene of a female newborn being drowned in a vat of milk in the film matrubhoomi has had its impact..
I guess such a reality shocks but then does one think about the other one: the life of the girl child who is never made to forget that she is unwanted.. everyday we see this in subtle forms: she is never given the same care as her male sibling be it food or medical attention; she is rarely taken to the fair or even if she is, only her brother gets the ride or the special treat; she is ladden with housechores at an age where she should be playing with her brother; she is the one whose school fees money is often not found thus leading to her droping out.. she is babli who is left to die as she has a hole in her heart and repairing it would cost money…
and as she grows into becoming a young woman she also becomes the repository of the family’s honour while her brother can go on chasing girls.. she is then married off to someone she has never met, someone who will treat her the same way: as an object to be used, misused and abused..
she will come of her own one day maybe, as a mother in law.. but by that time bitterness and hurt would have taken possession of her, making her the one to accuse her own daughter-in-law of giving birth to a girl child so that the pattern continues with no possible escape..
so now you understand the chilling question of the little girl who wonders why she is being worshiped today…
by Anuradha Bakshi | Oct 8, 2005 | Uncategorized
babli is 9.. she looks 5..
a bright child, she loves studying and being with her class mates.. at first she looks normal till you realise that she is often stands aside while others play.. if you look closely you realise that she breathes with great difficulty..
Babli comes from a very poor family, her father is an aged man who must be twenty year solder than her mom.. he does not work and it is babli’s mother who eeks out a living doing odd jobs..
when we enquired about babli’s health they told us that the doctors had told them at her birth that she had a hole in her heart and would require surgery to live…
babli’s parents were too poor to think of such an option so they took the other one.. that of accepting that she would die…
I have always been amazed at the way project why weaves its magic.. babli was brought to project why by Sitaram, the why-on-wheels man, who had to wait a long time tilll he found the road way to project why and managed to get Raju his son’s open heart surgery done.. and is it again a simple coicidence that Nutan did not need surgery and thus money lies unused at the AIIMS…
So is there an option…other than life for babli..
by Anuradha Bakshi | Oct 7, 2005 | girl child, utpal
When your teen age daughter or mine gets angry, or upset, or has a fight with the family.. she bangs the door of her room, pops up the volume and waits for one of us to come by.. and make things right
when Durga has a fight she leaves home, wanders dark unsafe streets and lands up at the remand home..
Yet they are both children of India, both have parents and families… so why the difference..
Durga is our little mr popples a.ka. Utpal’s half sister..
Durga was born of the loveless union of a young girl married off to an older man ; it was later found out he was already married.. The young mother was left alone with a child who from the moment of her birth had become an impediment.. She later found another man who promised to take her away from the dreary small village lost somewhere in Bengal and take her to the big city… but he did not want Durga..
Durga grew up in the care of her granny, a free and rebellious child who never found answers for all the questions that she encountered.. granny loved her in her own way but was too old to instill any discipline or order in Durga’s existence.. sometimes an almost unknown mom use to come, ladden with gifts and stories, but left too soon to answer any of the now disturbing questions..
Two years back she even heard about the terrible accident her half brother had.. but what could she do.. then a few months back, as she entered her 12th year granny died and her uncle brought her to delhi… she met her new ‘dad’ and her little endearing half brother.. and above all city life.. where your world is a tiny airless room..
Gone were the fields where you could run, the small vilage where everyone knew you and you felt safe.. this was a whole new ball game and no one had taught her the rules.. and above she had to get used to mom, who was a far cry from the nice smiling woman who had appeared and dispappeared..
So the battle of wits began: each one tried her best, but so much time had passed.. sometimes there was violence, particularly on nights when dad brought a bottle.. she discovered another side of her mom, one that did not fit any of the images she had conjured till now..
One night the fight was too much to bear and Durga ran away.. the parents too drunk to know what had actuatlly happened did not realise her flight till the next day.. by that time Durga had been found by the police patrol and sent to the remand home for children.. a lovely hurting child who had committed no crime.. she was just trying to cope with life..
The police came, the social workers came, the mother was made to feel guilty.. little Durga felt a misplaced sense of importance and declared she did not want to come home but wanted to go with the ‘ladies’!
Days passed and Durga’s family just got on with the task of existing.. I guess the mom felt that she was safe and anyway the Nirmal Chayya institution was near Tihar jail.. miles away..
I had made a mental note of trying to find out about Durga but I must confess that I did not.. a phone call from a kind hearted social officer jolted me back to reality.. she wanted Jhunnu to come and meet her daughter… I decided to go along because I knew inside me that the mother and daughter had to get reunited..
I will not go into the details of the harrowing experience of dealing with the juvenile justice department and the Children’s court.. but simply say that maybe they should walk urban slum streets and get in touch with the real world.. where children become adults and priorities do not obey the law of western child psychology..
All praise to Sapna and her kind heart as she guided me through this unknown world as she more than anyone else understood that Durga had to be rescued from this place and taken home..
It took all the patience I had to answer the incomprehensible and absurd questions thrown at me by people who did not even bother to look in the eye..
Durga was finally released under my supervision and has come home to her loving family, who maybe does not love the way we would imagine, but nevertheless do!
Now mother and daughter have to make up for lost time under the supervision of Utpal whose joy knows no bounds at being reunited with his sibling…
