by Anuradha Bakshi | Jan 13, 2008 | Uncategorized
This would make any teacher go ballistic and hurl a string of unkind words at the child who stands mortified not quite understanding why his valiant attempt at forming words meets such rage!
The truth is that in most cases both are right: the teacher is unaware of the problem of the child,and the child is incapable of doing better.
Most adults are not aware of learning disabilities and akin them to incompetence, sloth and even impudence. And children who are learning impaired slowly withdraw and lose all self confidence! They become failures and can rarely achieve what they are capable of. The plight of such kids was beautifully evoked in tare zameen par and I decided that all pwhy teaching staff see the movie in the hope that they would be able to understand the extent of harm that a word often said with good intentions could have on the child under their care.
I must confess that it has been an uphill task to try and get this across to my great team who often thought that I was clueless about teaching. I cannot blame them as they themselves are products of a harsh school system and even harsher home environment where verbal and physical abuse is the order of the day.
Many of the children who come to project why may not have learning disabilities but do have difficulties because of their social background, the inability of their parents to teach them and above all because of the callousness of their insensitive school teachers who have often already bruised their faltering self confidence. And yet each one had incredible potential waiting to be tapped.
So the entire staff was sent to see the film with the tacit understanding that this was not to be fun time but learning time and that there would be a brainstorming session after that. So we sat down the next day to exchange our thoughts and feelings about what we had all seen. I set the ball rolling by simply asking what they thought the film was about. As expected one of he younger teachers started by giving a summary of the film viewed from the outside. I stopped her half way and simply asked: How do you think each one of you fitted within the story?
There was a long silence some puzzled faces and then one teacher softly said: we should not use harsh words; another: every child has great potential and yet another: I saw myself in the film as this was happened to me.
These three simple comments had said it all and I realised with some satisfaction I must confess that I had finally been able to convey what I had been trying to for a long long time.
by Anuradha Bakshi | Jan 12, 2008 | planet why
Planet why is my most cherished dream but till two days back it was just that: a dream. True that I am used to dreaming and must confess that I have turned quite greedy as many of my dreams have turned into reality over the past 8 years, but planet why often seemed akin to the holy grail and I knew I was no Parsifal!
And yet, with a zeal close that of a knight with no armour I held on to that dream and pursued it as best I could because my holy grail was a cup full of lost smiles and hopes gone astray! I must confess that I rarely garnered the courage to actually spell out the astronomical figure needed to recover all these hopes and smiles but I persevered in my elusive search.
What I had forgotten along the way was that the quest was not mine alone; actually I was simply a channel, albeit a blessed one, who had to carry on what had been entrusted to me, and never give up, no matter what obstacles came my way.
Pwhy has been a journey interspersed with dreams and miracles and even the confirmed agnostic would be compelled to accept that this journey has been steered by an unknown hand who makes things happen!
A chance virtual encounter barely a few months back led to the the incredible: planet why moved from the realm of dream to that of reality as angels joined my quest and helped us secure an interest free loan to enable us to purchase the land where planet why will seed. They are now furiously at work so that we are able to repay back that loan and get the funds needed to build this blessed space where mislaid hopes and smiles will finally find a home and bright morrows will be crafted with love and care.
Angels look just like us; only you need to see with your heart to recognise them! And you do not thank Angels, you just carry on your work with renewed faith to hold on to their wings.
by Anuradha Bakshi | Jan 12, 2008 | Uncategorized
Thew new toast of town is undoubtedly the Nano, or Tata Motors new 100 000 rs car! Everyone wants one: the young girl who was till date quite happy with a scooty, the three wheeler owner, the lads who have still not finished paying their EMIs for their still gleaming bikes, everyone who could never have dreamt of owning a car.
To many it is undoubtedly a huge leap in our new found economic revolution. Somehow it seems to have been linked with the shift in private transportation from bicycle, to two wheelers and now four wheelers! Recently a TV debate on the threat to environment highlighted the need for efficient public transport rather than more and more private vehicle. But who wants to hear such voices, they are party poopers and today it is party time! No one is thinking of pollution, carbon emissions, escalating costs of petrol, parking problems; everyone wants a car!
And yet everyone grumbles about the traffic snarls,the clogged roads, the polluted air that one can barely breathe, the noise pollution and the increased incidents of road rage! Our city is dying a low but sure death. But we still cut trees to widen roads, build on river banks and continue our hubristic race to what will be our nemesis blissfully unaware of the fact that one day it wil be too late!
What we need is efficient public transport, car pools and stringent laws that make us think twice before taking out our car as our collective conscience seems to have gone AWOL! WE do have a plethora of armchair environmentalists who could spin convincing spiels on our need to respect the environment but who do not bat an eye lid before taking out their 6 cylinder bolid to buy a loaf of bread from the store next door or come to think of it is our city new love for malls fuelled by our need to show of our new four wheel wonder off!
I must confess that I still slip up at times and forget to close a tap or take my cloth bag but at least I try. However I have a friend, my green guru, who will never take a car when he travels alone, even though he lives in a faraway suburb and even if he has to come for a business meeting.
I wonder what Delhi will look like with more cars.maybe it is time to move to greener pastures!
by Anuradha Bakshi | Jan 8, 2008 | girl child
I have been battling with myself about writing this post as I know that if I do write it with honesty and candor it may peel off some of the carefully pasted layers that has fabricated what I look like today. I thought the glue was strong and the image would withstand all storms: how wrong I was!
Sunday Januray 6th 2008 was to be a special day as after a long time my daughter had convinced me to see a movie with her and we were all set to have fun. Nothing could have prepared me for what was to ensue. The movie, the incredibly touching Tare Zameen Par, was to bring about a catharsis I was not prepared for.
As I watched mesmerised I saw my life enfolding itself and all that I had carefully buried after whitewashing and veneering it to suit myself, came back to me raw and unconcealed in ways that I had refuse to see. As the child was seen battling with letters and figures I relived the days when I too sat with a lovely little girl drumming letters and figures and not comprehending why she looked at me with huge pleading eyes seeking love and understanding. The little girl was the young woman sitting next to me: my daughter S! I saw myself as what I had been and I realised for the very first time the pain and agony my child had suffered because I had failed her when she needed me most.
It took me a long time to comprehend her and I can draw paltry satisfaction in saying that I did not send her to boarding school and did ultimately listen to her and let her follow her heart. But can I make up for all the ugly words I said to her, or all the times I stubbornly refused to hear her cries for help! As I watched the film I understood for the first time what S went through day after day, year after year as I carried on placing on her frail shoulders a burden she could not carry.
The film ended and we all wiped our tears, having each wept for our own reasons. For S it was easy to get on with her day as she finally had found a way to be vindicated, but I had more layers to shed as I knew that this was the only and last chance I had to redeem myself in my own eyes. A simple hug and a heartfelt sorry would not suffice this time if life was to go on. The flood of visible tears had dried leaving a few streaks that could easily be washed but the journey was not over, actually it has just begun.
Images from the past swarmed my mind, each needing to be reinterpreted and confronted before being dealt with and mercifully healed. S was just 9 or 10 when she told me she wanted to work with special children; was it not her way of telling me that she was one herself? It took me 5 long years to understand that and today she does just what she had always wanted with such compassion and sensitivity that my heart swells with pride each time I see her.
I remember a friend telling me long back when I was battling with trying to make S conform to accepted norms that special children were sent to earth by God to very privileged people as they were His messengers and taught us things we did not know about ourselves often giving us a chance to walk that extra mile. At that time I had pooh poohed her words so lost I was in my own hubris. Today I realise that were if not for S there would be no Project Why and I thank the heavens above to have given me the possibility to atone my wrongs. Perhaps the oft unfathomable and illogical passion I feel for my work is nothing extraordinary but simply a tiny step in a journey that still unfinished.
We as parents and adults often forget our own childhood and the pangs we suffered. What we carry as adults is our failures, and broken dreams, our unrealistic aspirations and impossible goals and then lost in the mediocrity of our lives and our refusal to accept our own limitations we simply transfer the burden on the shoulders of our children exhorting them to fulfill what we could not. So every parent even the most illiterate one wants his child to be a topper! Wonder what the world would like if everyone was just that: a topper!
And to get what we want, we do not use love, or coaxing, or kindness, we simply resort to hurting and abusing. I remember the winter of 2000 when we had just begun hesitant English classes. Some class X students had been beaten in school and we had decided to meet with the authorities and settle the issue. It was a Principal’s office worthy of a Dickensian novel and so were the protagonists. As the young boys stool in silence, the headmaster hurled a string of abuse at them likening them to gutter snipes with no hope of redemption. In the deafening silence I heard the sound of hopes shattering and took probably one of the most important decisions of pwhy as I worded a response to the taunting challenge: they would pass their examinations no matter what. They did and some of them today are finishing their college!
I realise today that were it not for S, I too would have remained silent nodding a pitiable acceptance. Since that day I have never allowed myself the luxury of not hearing! But the journey does not end there as I sit reviewing my so called adult life. Were it not for my child my life too would have been spent in shades of grey and I would have never experienced the splashes of vibrant colour that come your way when you learn to accept embrace and celebrate difference. Were it not for S, I would never have gathered the courage to walk the road less travelled and made a tiny difference.
One can never put the clock back and redress torts gone by. I guess one can easily say sorry to the ones that we have hurt, and they more often than not have hearts large enough to forgive us. What is more important is to be able to forgive one’s self as, in the words of Mary Angelou: You can ask forgiveness of others, but in the end the real forgiveness is in one’s own self.
I am slowly coming to terms with the fact that setting up project why is not what I have conveniently chosen to believe and project to others. It is actually the slow and still unfinished process of forgiving myself. The journey continues and at each step I whisper a silent word of gratitude to the one who made it possible.
If not for you S I could not have become what I am today. You are very special!
Note: this post sat a long time unpublished. It is not easy to accept one’s failings let alone share them with one and all. But unless one does life’s journey remains meaningless!
by Anuradha Bakshi | Jan 6, 2008 | Uncategorized
Two years ago when pwhy was facing one of its proverbial financial crisis, our indomitable friend Isabelle decided to do something. Knowing Isabelle it had to be something unique and it was. On July 29th 2006 a heart warming event was held to help pwhy survive. Since it has begun an annual event and on that day two very special souls Christophe and Judith play and dance their hearts away for children they had never met.
January 3rd 2008 was to be a very blessed day as Christophe and Judith finally met some of the children they already carried in their hearts as they found time from their busy schedule to come to pwhy. As they had little time we all went down to the special section where they children has just settled for the day. Soon copy books were cast aside and the the CD player was turned on and almost by magic these bunch of very special kids decided to say thank you in their own way by dancing for their very special friends. It did not matter whether some could not hear, or others could not walk; it did not matter if no one spoken the same language everyone decided to put their best foot forward and dance with their hearts. Even as I write these words my eyes are moist as nothing can ever truly convey what happened in those precious moments. It was a moment only for he privileged as the gods came down from heaven to be part of it.
Judith then decided to dance a Flamenco for the children and even if the guitar had been left behind Christophe provided the beat with his hands and feet. All the kids were mesmerised and I could see little feet tapping. But blessed moments come and it was soon time to say farewell. But promises were made as our hearing impaired girls who are great dancers wanted to learn the Flamenco and our friends pledged to come back.
Our camera did capture some of these moments for you
