by Anuradha Bakshi | May 12, 2007 | Uncategorized
There is a new blog about the comings and goings of project why. Khabar why ki was launched some time back hesitantly by our incomparable duo Shamika and Rani. After a slow beginning it as now taken off in style.
Khabar why ki is a blog in roman Hindi and shares in a candid way the daily events that occur at project why. It offers a different view as it comes almost from the horse’s mouth. I hope many of you will drop and encourage this new enterprise.
by Anuradha Bakshi | May 11, 2007 | two indias
India celebrates 150th anniversary of the 1857 uprising often known as the first war of Independence. The capital is in festive mood, a holiday had been declared and the police is on tenterhook as is usual every time we celebrate an event!
For the past week TV channels and national dailies have been replete with visuals and articles about a sometimes forgotten page of our history. One such article caught my eye yesterday as in some tenuous way it links me to that important historical day. The article which appeared in the Times of India of 10th May 2007 is entitled Malegaon to Mauritius: On the trail of 1857, and retraces the destinations taken by the 1857 refugees fleeing the revenge of the Company and sometimes the old feudal repressive order. One of the destinations was Mauritius and its ever growing need of indentured labour to work the sugarcane fields.
In 1871 on board the SS Nimrod, my ancestor landed on the shores of this island as Labour no: 354495. Many stories were crafted to explain why this landlord of a village near Patna had fled his homeland. I have never been able to ascertain which of the tales is the right one but the two British officer’s swords that form part of our family’s legacy make me believe that he may have been part of the great uprising.
Labour no 354495 was not an ordinary man as his descendants became leaders of the community and some like my father chose to come back to the homeland after Independence. My past often haunted me and I made the journey back to the very village he had fled from. It was there that I realised my incredible destiny and made the decision to pay back what I felt was a debt to my country, for had things been otherwise I would have been a simple village woman and not a diplomat’s daughter.
One tends to forget one’s heritage as one gets busy with the simple act of living and building one’s own history. As you go along and create your own comfort zones, the past gets conveniently obliterated and memory selective. But one is never free of one’s past that has an uncanny way of catching up with you as I experienced via a simple newspaper article.
Once again I see myself as the descendant of an indentured labour who was compelled to leave his home as he had chosen to fight for his land and probably knew his days were counted. Most of us have forgotten the struggle of those who laid their lives down to ensure that we could grow in a free country. A politicised extravaganza is perhaps not the right way to commemorate this important day. Maybe one should delve in some soul searching and assess whether we have been worthy of the numerous sacrifices made by simple individuals. And if we do so honestly the picture is not pretty.
A simple perusal of any newspaper or news bulletin is sufficient to prove this as it is often a litany of items ranging from rape to murder, from corruption to scams. But what strikes the most is the growing gap between two Indias: that of the rich who seem to be doing better by the day, and that of the poor who are just surviving.
What is truly frightening is the ever increasing abdication of responsibility by the rulers in every field possible: you cannot provide safety to women, so stop them from working at night; you cannot provide basic amenities to school so hand them over to private agencies. And it gets worse: you want to get rid of a disturbing person, the police will do it for you at a price. To earn extra money you can pass a woman for your wife and smuggle her out. Everything is possible when law makers become law breakers.
As one who has now spent close to a decade trying to help underprivileged children get what is rightfully theirs, what has shocked me the most is the total lack of concern of the privileged people who are unwilling to reach out in support. On the contrary many are contemptuous of the work one does. This break down of the moral fibre of our society is dangerous as it carries the seed of destruction.
How long do we think we can shield ourselves behind theories of fate and karma and wish problems away. How long can we maintain a stony silence in front of the injustice we see. True that we have seen an awakening of civil society but it is sad that it is only heard when the victim is belongs to one’s own strata.
Those who fought for our independence did not seek freedom for a selected few, they sought it for every one. This is something we seem to have forgotten.
by Anuradha Bakshi | May 10, 2007 | Uncategorized
Meet our new teachers: Azad and Pinku Kumar. At first glance they look like many of te young teachers we have but that is not quite so.
Azad and Pinku Kumar are our old students who have just sat for their XI Boards. Knowing their track record they will pass with high marks as they always have.
They are both from very poor families. Azad’s father drives an auto rickshaw and he is the eldest of many siblings. For the past years they have topped their class and helped many other students in their studies. So when we fell short of teachers the choice was foregone as once again this has been part of the great project why dream.
It was a huge moment when I saw them standing in their smart shirts, a little nervous but full of confidence and hope. Azad who is excellent in maths will teach class VI and VII and Pinku Kumar will teach the primary section at Giri Nagar. They will initially be trainee teachers, but knowing them I am sure they will soon be able to work independently.
As I watched them this morning, I knew that in spite of the odds we have had to face time and again, it had been an incredible journey.
by Anuradha Bakshi | May 8, 2007 | commonwealth games, planet why, sealing, sustainability
Once again I borrow the title of one of my favourite Neruda poems. The need for this post is based on a call from a dear friend and supporter who was a bit perplexed at what what happening at project why. I guess his doubt came from the posts like this one, and could have given the impression that we were stopping our activities as they stood today.
Far from that, project why as it stands today- 2 early education programmes, 4 primary education programmes, 1 day care for special children, 1 secondary programme and 1 computer centre – is thriving and will continue to do so as long as no outside factors come its way.
The thoughts shared on several blogs of late about planet why was because of some issues that one cannot afford to play down. One is the likelihood of seeing many of the slums we work in relocated prior to the Commonwealth games coupled with the sometimes incomprehensible sealing laws; the other is the need to plan a long term sustainability effort that is in tune with the demands of the market forces and in consonance with our abilities and skill, and last but not the least is the long term responsibility we have towards some of our more fragile wards in the light of a quasi absence of state run residential programmes for such forsaken souls.
Keeping in mind the possibility of seeing our nine centres scattered one fie day we have also begun a gentle transfer of power which began with an unlikely gift I asked my staff. The idea was to make them aware of their own capabilities and then teach them slowly how to manage and administer their own centres. This would come useful if and when our centres are dispersed in many directions as part of the Delhi shining campaign.
The sustainability issue I presume is self-evident as one has to set pwhy on a long time auto pilot course some day. I would also enable us to widen our activities and reach out to more children
by Anuradha Bakshi | May 8, 2007 | Uncategorized
Just when you think that you have got it all in place, that you have achieved the quasi impossible, that it is time to make grandiose plans for the future and that you can bask in your so-called glory, you are dealt with a blow that calls you to order.
This picture was taken just a month or so ago and it seemed that we had finally come to rest as Utpal’s shattered family was finally reunited in one place after a long battle.His mom and sister looked happy and he had a place to come back to for his holidays.
Was it just a week ago that he had come home for a few hours and we had planned all the things he would take with is him for his summer holidays that he was to spend with his little family. And the glint in his eyes each time we mentioned his mummy was heartbreaking. Was hubris that made me see only what I wanted and ignore the rest. How did I forget the insidious ways of the enemy we had fought. How did I not see Utpal’s mom disturbed look. How did I miss what was silently screaming to be seen. How did I forget the hold alcohol had on the spirit and the soul of its victims.
Yesterday a frantic call from the place she is in shattered the very foundation of the life we had so painfully created. Utpal’s mom had spend two days at a hospital caring for a sick child, and somehow her small foray into an unprotected world had awoken the demons of her sordid past. From that moment onwards her restlessness had increased. Too fragile to be able to handle the situation and not having a support group she became aggressive and threatening. The caretakers of the place she is in ran scarred and delivered the ultimate sentence; she could not stay there any longer.
We were at a loss. Where could she go where she wuld be safe. The concerted advise was tha she needed another stay in a home where he could be counselled and protected. Well there are not many such places in Delhi. It was suggested that she go to a place in another state where such facilities exist. But then how would her son meet her?
That is where we stand today. Will we find a place for her as all other options would be pushing her back into the hell of her past?
What is heartrending is that that deep down she wants to rebuild her life. The truth is that the power of alcohol is deep seated and she cannot fight this alone. The truth is that a woman who drinks is shunned by all. But the truth also is that she did not ask for such a life and that she was a victim of circumstances.
Before anyone asks why I cannot bring her home, the answer is simple: my home is intimately linked to her past; that most of those who work or come by are from the very place where she lived her dark days and where predators lurk.
We will set out today to look for solutions and hope we find one.
