by Anuradha Bakshi | Jun 12, 2009 | Uncategorized
It was a hot sultry summer morning but a long gone promise had to be redeemed. Meher and Utpal had behaved well for a whole week and wanted the promised ice cream. because of the heat we decided to go to a mall near the women centre as I knew that if nothing else, it was bound to have an ice cream parlour!
The mall all glitzy and shining looked like a ghost city. Only a few of the hundreds of shops were occupied. Thank God one of them was an ice cream parlour. The rest were mostly eating joints of all shades and hues with a lone toy and shoe shop making one wonder how it survived. It was a true picture of the recession everyone is talking about. A few people were seen loitering around mostly staff, I could barely spot a client. Meher with her expanders in her scalp looks like an endearing real life ET and was a once the cynosure of all eyes. Everyone looked at her but she did not feel awkward or odd and simply strutted in, screaming in delight at the new things she saw, the most important being the glass elevator!
Kiran and Utpal acted like the elder siblings and took her under their tiny wings and marched towards the ice cream parlour. After a session of intense tasting everyone selected their ice cream and we all sat at a small table. Keeping the flies away was left to me as the children dug into their little cups.
While helping Meher to navigate through her over frozen ice cream my mind wandered as I took in the picture these three children made, a picture that told a touching and wonderful story.
Kiran came into this world almost exactly on the day project why began its activities in Giri Nagar and that too on my mother’s birthday making her that little more special. She is probably the only person in the world who calls me Anou with authority! I remember carrying her around everywhere I went in early project why days and she grew imbibed with the spirit of what pwhy stands for. No wonder that till date some of her best friends are the students of our special section, a place where she spends all her holidays with her very special pals.
Utpal came into my life as a bonny baby I use to watch being bathed every morning till the terrible day he had a tryst with fire and his little life changed forever and so did mine then barely two overcame her initial pangs of jealousy and become the elder sibling and then the soul mate. Recently when Utpal had to complete a piece of holiday homework where he had to write about his family Kiran was very much part of that family.
Little Meher completes the trio. I still remember hearing her very loud voice before looking down at her scarred face. Today as she undergoes complex reconstructive surgery she has two little protectors who make sure that no one bothers her as she struts around like a an extra terrestrial princess!
A beautiful tale of love, compassion and hope that could only be weaved at a place called project why!
by Anuradha Bakshi | Jun 8, 2009 | God of lesser beings
It stands forlorn on a table. It had been bought with much hope and expectation to celebrate an event many of us had prayed for: the departure of a little boy to another land with brand new parents. But that was not to be as once again the life of a child got irremediably caught in the web of adult egos.
Let me tell you the story of a little boy now 4, who landed in our lives when he was just two weeks old. Born out of wedlock to parents of different faith he faced a grim future in a land where such children are branded for life. We thought that perhaps he would have a better morrow were he to be adopted and taken away to another land where labels and branding do not matter. Everything seemed to be working in the right direction as suitable parents were found and all seemed to be on track. The legal process was initiated and the doting parents-to-be made umpteen visits to India to shower love on the little boy.
We watched him grow, cut his first tooth, utter his first word, take his first step as he was a student of our creche. When the parents-to-be were in town, he slept in my home and was smothered with affection and gifts. Then what went wrong? Everything! The legal case took longer than expected and the child changed from a cuddly baby to a little boy with his own character and temperament. And by the time the case finally concluded in favour of the adoptive parents, a lot had changed. The parents had adopted another baby in their own land. And our little boy still needed a passport to leave his birth land and join his new family.
All of us believed that obtaining a passport was just a matter of time. But to our utter dismay we soon found that there was still a lot of red tape to be faced and egos to be appeased. The adoption agency refused to give the required clearance in spite of a court order. And as is always the case, no one was willing to give anything in writing. The would be parents lost interest and the little boy’s future was again in jeopardy. The celebration was not to be and the champagne bottle stood unopened, a grim reminder of a battle sadly lost.
In hindsight it is maybe all for the best. Next year we hope to be able to send the little boy to boarding school, thus ensuring that he gets what is needed to change his life for the better: a sound education. Perhaps it was the God of lesser beings operating in his own inimitable way! But one wonders how many children have their lives truncated because of inexplicable bureaucratic procedures and imbroglios.
by Anuradha Bakshi | Jun 7, 2009 | Uncategorized
Does recession makes you less compassionate is an interesting article by Ed and Deb Shapiro. I urge you to read it. The authors make a brilliant analysis of the state of affluence versus the state of poverty. And they conclude by saying: if we relate to the recession with fear, then it will close us down further. If we relate to difficulties with an open heart, then we will enter into a culture of greater sharing and compassion. Our economy is built on greed and a fear of scarcity. But we can transcend this by reaching out to each other in acts of fearless kindness and caring.
For the last decade I have been actively engaged in the charity bizMess and quite frankly I have seen more fear than open hearts. When I began my journey almost exactly 11 years ago, I was a real greenhorn. I felt that it would be easy to ask people around for tiny amounts, the kind that would not make an iota of difference in their lives. Yet it was the richer ones who were the hardest to convince.
The authors of the article refer to what they call the wounds of wealth. These are burdens of expectations, isolation, unhealthy family dynamics and crisis of identity and all these make them more remote and less accessible. On the flip side according to the authors, when one has nothing one is not fearful of being taken advantage of and willing to share the little one has. This is evident in the way a poor man opens his home to you and shares the little he has. Compassion according to the authors comes from a feeling that we are not isolated: We can take off our armor and allow ourselves to be touched and to feel the undefended heart.
I would truly like to believe this to be true. Though till date we have seen the contrary: people backing out of their tiny commitments for fear of losing all. I wish we could in some way ignite compassion in them and have them reach out to those in need. And this not for purely selfish reasons but because the world looks better when you look at it with an open heart.
by Anuradha Bakshi | Jun 7, 2009 | Uncategorized
Going going gone are the proverbial words that mark the end of any auction. The latest auction on the block is that of medical seats. It happens for the time being in Bangalore but God only knows how long it will take to start happening elsewhere. So it does not matter how hard you study, how well you do in school, what you need is a lot of money in the bank if you want to one day be a doctor! Now if that is the case should surprised at the astronomical fees we are asked to pay for a minor throat ache!
I was appalled when my doctor told me that one of his peers asked for 500 rs in case you called him up on the phone to ask for some advise. I cannot begin to count the number of times I have called Dr P not just for myself or my family but for pwhy children and sought precious advise. But then if you need to pay huge amounts for a medical seat then I guess the man was justified. Well not quite so as he was of Dr P’s age, and in those days you paid a mere 125 Rs a month as tuition fee in a state run medical college where you got admission on merit. Dr P felt that at least his vintage should not stoop so low!
Where are we going. There I was just a week back jumping with joy at the wonderful results my kids had got me. What good is Vivek’s 97%. His family has barely enough to make ends meet. In our days a first division (a paltry 60% and plus) got you to a good college. The the equation changed and you need 90% and more to secure the coveted seat. Now it seems the equation has changed 90% and plus + a hefty back balance = a college of your choice.
Now you may ask what happens to those who are unable to meet these new requirements, those who still get old times marks. Well they can aspire to studying abroad, something that was not an option in our times. Many countries have opened their portals to the ever increasing number of Indian students who now often leave their homeland after school. True money is required but sometimes it is easier to get a seat in Australia then in India. Loans or simply liquidating assets allows many students to go and study in other lands. But all is not glitter and gold there as we have seen lately. In Australia lately students from India have been subjected to brutal racial attacks. In all probability, the matter will be resolved at least for now but it is something we cannot wish away.
My first encounter with racism was when I was around 12 or 13. It was in a newly independent Algeria. I had gone to the local grocery shop to buy some tomatoes. A young boy of my age was serving customers. He gave me a kilo of tomatoes but over half of them were rotten. When i brought this to his attention he looked at me with anger and said: If you are not happy, go back to your home! I have never forgotten this incident. At that time I was angry and humiliated, today I understand what the child meant. Anyone outsider was a potential danger that could take away what was rightfully his.
I do not want to end this post on a gloomy or fatalistic note. There are lessons to be learnt and the first one is that of looking at our education system with honesty and candor and seeing what ails it. One of the first comment of our new Minister of Education was to say that he wished to invite Ivy League colleges to India so that students could get the best at affordable prices. I wish he had also stated that he would look into state run schools and ensure that they become the best option available to all. We have to put an end to the caste system that exists in education and ensure that every child in India gets access to the best available. Yes I am again making a pitch for the common school. Is anyone listening or should I rather say who will bell the cat?
by Anuradha Bakshi | Jun 4, 2009 | Uncategorized
Got a mail from my dear friend Xiong. He was a volunteer with us two years back but then, slowly, became a dear friend, someone whose advise and ideas I respect and try to follow: a sounding board for a lot of what we do and often I find myself listening to him and implementing his suggestions. In his latest mail Xiong informed me that he was joining our sponsorship programme. I guess that he more than anyone else read in between the lines all that was left unsaid.
Now the sponsorship programme allows you to select a class and Xiong in his inimitable gentle style simply wrote: If I had to choose a class I would like to be updated on news about the secondary section because I seldom read about them much on your blog, and also because I’m somehow more emotionally attuned to teenagers.
Touche! He was right. I seldom write about the secondary kids, at most when they bring back laurels that add to our already heavy wreath. Are they not the ones who have year after a year for almost a decade passed every single examinations they sat for. It was time to make amends and also to do some soul searching. Why were they the ones one rarely wrote about?
The answer was simple. They were the good child in the project why family. The one you take for granted, the one who never steps out of line and always does what you expect it to. And hence the one you overlook as you wit in front of your screen to share your trials and tribulations. But today I will write about them as I should have long ago.
Our senior secondary section is a bunch of about 100 teenagers from class IX to XII. They are under the care of their Naresh Sir, the very young man who took on the challenge nine years ago of ensuring that those everyone called gutter snipe, would shine and excel. And for the last almost a decade he has been doing just that. The secondary section is located in an airy room on top of our computer class. Every time we go and visit the class, we find them sitting with their heads buried in their note books. They barely look up,as they wish you the time of the day and you just tiptoe away from fear of disturbing them.
Unlike other classes they have few demands: a book now and again, money to make photocopies and once a year just before the final examinations, a plea for an outing to the movies. Then when the results are out they drop by to thank you with the customary box of sweets and a proud smile on their happy faces!
Then they are ready to take on the big world with confidence and poise, and we watch them leave the nest with pride and clouded eyes.
