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People get addicted to many things.. I too have my addiction, one I did not realise till I missed my shot of Nanhe’s smile..

Yesterday for the first time I saw Nanhe in such excrutiating pain, as he clung to his mother and in spite of all his efforts was not able to smile..

He is now admitted to the hospital for the last lap of what has been an extremely long obtsacle race.. but one he runs with rare courage and examplary determination.

Somewhere, within the arachnean boundaries of planet why, lies nanhe’s smile, a smile in custody…

Godspeed Nanhe…

Come January 1.. and we all make resolutions that are often commonly kept.. often because they are made by habit and not conviction..

I too have in the past made many such resolutions.. this year however as I sat down to review the past year and take stock of things, I realised that I had changed many of my ways, quite unconsciously.. I was more patient, less demanding , less obstinate, willing to walk the middle path more often.. and one thing was certain, it was pwhy that had brought this..

Pwhy has been the most rewarding experience in more ways than one.. the love of the children, the incredible support of people, and the little achievements that light up each and every day.. but more than that it has made me discover things about myself, helped me overcome many inhibitions, and I think the greatest one is that of asking for help..

When I look back on the past 5 years I realise that maybe one of the biggest stumbling block has been this very attitude, the result of years of being led to believe that it was not done. So maybe resolution 2006 is to try and rid myself of the last shred of reserve as when I seek help it is for those who no else reaches out to..

So on this first day of the new year, I ask all of you who think that pwhy is worthwhile to walk one extra step and extend your support.

There are only two ways to live your life. One is as though nothing is a miracle. The other is as though everything is a miracle. (Albert Einstein)

It took me a long time to decide what the post on the last day of 2005 would be, and then I came across this quote that said it all..

On planet why we live life the later way. We have had our share of miracles , big and small, in 2005. So many that I feel overwhelmed: when the tsunami hit our coasts, pwhy kids did the imposible and collected 60 000 rs and bought a small kuppam (fisherman’s village) a fibreglass boat that sails every day bearing the name project why on its hull; Arun got a new heart, the started walking, the children brought us a 100% results

The internet wove its magic and friends appreared from the world over: a raffle was organised in the US, a short story competition took place in the UK, and each time we were in need, invisible angels appeared and pulled us through..

And there is more, Babli’s operation is on the anvil as we have the required funds, and little Nanhe will also be operated upon and have a painfree existence..

The adoption plan we put up is slowly fall in in place and we know that it will happen sooner than later, as so many friends have put us on their sites and blog pages

There were difficult moments… when we discovered Munna’s little family but one phone call later and another angel did the job.. Munna’s family will have a warm new year and take its first steps towards better times…

We had a party hosted by a lady just 8 months old, and a wedding so different from the ones we see.. we even made it to newspapers and had our moment in the sun!

As I write these words I am overwhelmed by the abundance of gifts recieved and somewhat humbled …

To all those who made this possible I would like simply to say: thank you!

Many of us will sit down tomorrow night to usher 2006. There will be lights, and warmth and food and music.. no matter how chilly the night.

In the same city Munna’s little family will sit in the dark, the only light being that of an oil lamp… Munna is 9 and suffers from mental retardation. He has been at project why for a few weeks. He has three younger siblings and brave parents who came to the city, floods having washed away the little land they had. the father earns the princely sum of 1000/rs, and the family lives on that.

The little family juggles with the sum to make both ends meet, so they have decided not to get an electric connection, and when vicky 3 and shakuntala 1 are hungry, the mother breastfeeds them.. Sapna goes to school, and Munna and Vicky come to pwhy. The children have barely any warn clothes, and the mother has none. Despite his limited capacities, Munna is very much the elder brother and in his own endearing way watches over little Vicky and helps his mother as best he can.

We were moved by the quiet dignity we saw in the face of such adversity. There were no complaints, no soliciting for help, on the contrary when ve visited them, we were offered food and tea.. the rules of hospitality were impeccable.

As we left munna’s home many questions came to our mind: how did anyone live in a thousand rupees? How could any employer give a thousand rupees for a day’s work – Munna’s father beats iron for a living -? and above all how could we help them …

The picture shows Nanhe on his nth visit to the hospital. It is no mean task for a child who cannot walk, is incontinent, is in pain and never complains.

For the past two months come monday and the trio of Nanhe, his mom and Meena our staffer, sets off in the cold or rain to the hospital located a few kilometers away. In the afternoon the trio comes back, and whereas the adults frown or complain, Nanhe smiles on.. the scenario is repeated the next friday and so on. Sometimes another test is needed, sometimes an xray has to be redone.. and the date for the much needed surgery to put an end to the excruciating pain of one suffering from multiple calculi seems as elusive as the scarlet pimpernel.

No I should not be complaining. A recent press report revealed that the waiting time for surgery in India’s capital city’s only state hospital for children was four years resulting in parents having to find resources to take their children to private hospitals, here it has only been two months.

Nanhe needs another test that cannot be done in Safdarjung Hopsital. The doctor scribbled a referral on his green card, and the trio set out to AIIMS but to our utter horror no one could figure out what was written. By the time they had finished their rounds in search of information, poor nanhe in tow, public dealing time was up. Come again tomorrow..

Enough is enough, today a senior staffer will go to the hospital and find out the exact name of all the tests required and the name of a private lab that the hospital endorses and we will get all the tests done.

But that is not the answer because every hurting child does not have a pwhy like support. Parents have meagre resources that soon dry out. In a case like Nanhe who cannot travel by bus, each trip is costly and then even caring parents give up on a child who is not even an investment in ones’ future: remember nanhe is severly retarded..

But does one give up on a smile like nanhe’s…

I was extremely saddened and somewhat angry to read this post.
I could feel the palpable angst that permeated each word.. as this lovely child of India questioned her very being..

No child, no one can take away from you the right to love and care for your country whether you wake up in it every morning or miles away in another land, that right is indubitably yours.. what is sad is that many of those who question it with such vehemence are the very ones who have forgotten how to love their land..

No one can stop you from commenting on its faults or praising its achievements as long as your person enough to accept responsibility for what it has become and do what you think is right to change things..

I speak from experience as in the past year I have seen that it is people like you who have come forward to help us make a difference, people whose hearts beats for India even if they are miles away..whereas those who breathe its air, enjoy its resources, live on the fruits of the toil of its humble people have lost the ability to care for it..

You need prove nothing… your words say it all!

Imagine my utter surprise whenI saw my band of galahads march in this morning almost dragging a sullen looking fellow, their captive of the day. I was sson to learn that it was Ramu,
bablis’ famous brother!

They wanted me talk to him and make him understand that he was not to bully his sister.. or beat up or make her do his work.. they were all talking at the same time, but I got the general idea..

Ramu stood sullen anbd I knew I had to play my cards right. He of course denied everything. He was after all a child of urban India slums, where children are always chided and abused and left no alternative but to repeat the pattern with someone younger; where boys are taught to believe that they are of superior mettle and girls inferior.. butI also knew that this young man had had the courage to come and face me..

Babli of course nodded her little head vigourously when asked whether big brother beat her. Now the stage was mine.. I took Ramu’s hand and gently explained to him what having a hole in a heart meant, and then telling him that being a big brother was a privilege and that he was responsible for his two sisters and that I knew that he would care for Babli. Ramu’s hand was still in mine and I felt an almost imperceptible squeeze. I realised that maybe it was the very fisrt time that an adult had spoken kindly to Ramu.

Now it was time to lighten the atmosphere so I asked Ramu what was his dream.. and he whispered – cricketeer – !

We then made a pact that if he would promise to look after Babli then I would see about organising cricket coaching for all pwhy boys. the pact was sealed with a high five and laughter.

It was then phototime and though Babli was all smiles, Ramu still had to play the role of the sullen brother though I think he was smiling inside. My knights in shining armour stood around with huge grins on their face.

Well done boys!

The previous post was about the plight of girls and the unfair treatment they get even in as small an issue as shoes!

The immediate reaction that one has is: why not buy them shoes.. but how many can you buy was my asnwer to a friend who wrote in.. the solution lies in changing age-old mindsets.. impossible would say my detractors.. well not quite..

Many of you know about Babli who needs heart surgery and will soon get her well deserved new ticker.. but I was thrilled today, when my primary boys, some of whom live in the same area as Babli, came to me all excited and told me how they had defended Babli and even slapped her elder brother..

I calm them down and asked them to tell me what happened. Apparently Babli’s older brother Ramu excpets his sister to fecth and carry for him and often ill treats and even beats her. Now my little knights in shining armour took up her defense and tried to explain to Ramu that Babli’s health was fragile and that she had to be cared for.. when he carried on abusing her they slapped him and told him that they wold be watching him..

Maybe the methods used by Raju and the gang was not quite what one would condone, I must confess that I was quite thrilled, and though I mouthed the required reprimand, my eyes were filled with pride…

This is not a summer footwear display… but the neatly lined up shoes of our primary girls at giri nagar on a chilly winter afternoon…

when most of us have different shoes for different seasons, the children in delhi slums are lucky if they have any footwear at all.. and rubber chappals are sturdier than the cardboard soled shoes that are sold on weekly marts and that do not withstand a puddle let alone rain!

winter wear is expensive, takes a long time to dry when washed and when you need to multiply it by the number of children you have, finances goe awry.. so it is often the male child who dons shoes whereas the little girls just have chappals… and one must not forget that an open shoe lasts longer, and can be worn even if the foot sticks out both end..

so here again girls are children of a lesser god…

it was a chilly afternoon as we set out to vist nanhe’s home. we needed to assess the situation and see what was needed to make his return from hospital as comfortable as possible. we locate his mother’s cart and she guided us to her home. we had expected a small jhuggi but this was more like a box where a cot took almost all the place – remember five people lived here, nanhe being the youngest – the place was as tidy as such a place can be, with a small electric stove and all that was essential to subsist. we made a mental note of what would be needed as we sat on the cot..

the dampness of the tiny room made the cold even more biting and quite honestly we were hoping for a cup of tea.. nanhe’s mom had scurried out we thought to get some milk.. we were taken a back when she returned with bottles of pepsi… and looked at each other in dispair.. knowing that we would have to gulp the chilled bottles seeped in the gratitude and love of this brave mother who probably felt thata mundane cup of tea was not god enough for us..

well you see this was urban india and nanhe’s mom had to show that she had learnt urban ways.. in her village we would have probably been given sweet and hot tea..

we drank the urban treat as refusing it would have been hurting her feelings..

Oh darling yeh hai India..

Wonder who this is…

This is our little babli’s family… her father and her little sister.. the ones she has to mother despite a hole in her heart..

But there are no options.. babli’s father who is 35 years older than her mom, is asthmatic and cannot work.. or does not want to. Santosha her mom slogs in a factory for long hours and babli is the one who takes charge of things at home.. True she is not the eldest child. She has a big brother but then he is a boy and enjoys certain privileges: he can play with friends and go to school, in a nutshell be a child..

This is the plight of many little girls who are deprived of their childhood by the realities of life in urban slums where there no extended families. The fact that babli has a severe heart condition makes the matter just that more poignant…

read more about babli:
babli’s world
babli.. a tiny woman of substance
Life on the planet is born of woman
let alone she may die

nanhe’s smile has moved many friends.. and yes he is an amazing child and we are very blessed to have him with us.

He has showed us the true meaning of hope and more than that his love for life does makes us all wonder about the total emptiness of our own lives…

I have often wondered why God, if there si one, sends such souls into this world.. many answers come to my mind but above all I feel that somehow these lovely children who bear their suffering with such dignity are there to help us unearth parts of us which seem to have got lost in the recess of our minds and souls…

The smile in the picture was nanhe’s way of telling me this morning as he set out for another series of painful tests, that all was well on planet earth and that he was ready to take on the day with courage.. his way of requesting me and others like me, not to pity him or feel sorry..

Ever since we began our work, it is the children of the special section who have given me the strength and the determination to carry on, no matter what.. they have been beacons of light and proved that no situation was ever desperate enough to want to give up. This motley crowd of simple souls with different abilities are examples of compassion, acceptance, cooperation and love.. a true celebration of diference..

How small we feel compared to them…

In our fight for survival, we put up an adoption plan whereby we seek kind hearts to ‘adopt’ the nine sections which make pwhy, each with its dreams, its hopes, its aspirations…

I have many times, maybe even too many for some, shared my own dreams for pwhy. I try with passion to defend its very spirit which can be summed up in the words: a mater of the heart.

In our dark times, many well wishers have tried to convince me to give up my quest for caring hearts and accept the more conventional way of institutional and impersonal funding.. I must confess that even if I sometimes nodded in agreement, my heart refused to follow and I lay in the dark of the night looking for a sign to vindicate my stand..

Last week another volley of mails was sent asking friends to come together and help us. I must admit that I got my share of emails telling me to change my ways, but I kept my fingers crossed and waited for a sign to show me I was right and this morning it happened as one of our centre got adopted by a old friend and supporter.. and I heaved a sigh of relief..

This friend of why is someone I have never met, someone who has never been to pwhy.. but to come back to my favourite parable, she is one who understood the secret reveald to St Exupery’s Little Prince by an untamed Fox, someone who can see with her heart..

“I will donate for the child if you guarantee he will live” were the harsh words that I heard in the dead of a night when we were looking for funds for Raju our first heart surgery. This followed an appeal on TV and was one of the numerous calls that were made on that September night.

I just answered as sweetly as I could that I could not even guarantee that I would be alive…Raju was operated upon, is now back in school and a fine boy at that.

I had forgotten this incident till today as we sat in the weak afternoon sun, talking about Nanhe and his forthcoming operation and the unecessary delays as the child is in great pain. A few friends were also present and we shared our helplesness as we foresaw no real future for this severly handicapped child, who cannot walk or talk and is dependent on a single parent who can barely support her family. I had thought that the friends present would come forward to help Nanhe and I must confess I was a little taken aback.. till I realised that people do not invest in a child who has no real tomorrows…

Yet Nanhe wants to live.. and he shows it in so many ways.. never complains.. always smiles.. even though all conspires against him – he fell of his mom’s cart and has four stitches -. He even has friends now and is happy…

Now the question is: he is worth investing in.. and what one can one do..

The answer is simple: fill his life with as much happiness as we can. Get the minimum surgery needed to make him pain free, get him diapers – they cost a bomb – so that he retains his dignity and can be taken out to parks, and other places… we know that his life will be short, and that is the best for him.. but it is still a life, a life that is worth investing in..

And let me tell you, his life has a purpose.. it shows us that life no matter how wreteched is to be celebrated and lived to its very end..

And if you need any proof, just look at his smile….

This is Babli’s world..

It is rich in some things and terribly lacking in others. It is filled with smiles and love, courage and determination, dreams and hope, prayers and belief.. all things intangible yet precious. Bablis’ home is tiny, maybe as small as a bathroom or a storeroom in upmarket areas. It has one rickety charpoy, not enough bedding to keep this family of five warm on what is said to be the coldest night in years. A few pots and pans in a corner, a few empty containers making you wonder what dinner will be tonight.

But life goes on in this home, and traditions are respected, the freshly painted walls bear witness to this: Diwali just went by. It is probably in this space that Santosha, Babli’s mom whispered her desperate prayer, that Babli expressed her silent desire to be a ‘police’ – , in this very space that the little family gets together at night to share the happenings of the day gone by. At present the topic must be Babli’s imminent heart surgery as prayers have been heard and dreams have taken the first step towards realisation…

The smiles of the children’s face are proof of the strange and almost incomprehensible fact that this is a happy place. For Babli it is a home she is proud of and from where she draws strength.

Yes Babli’s operation will happen soon.. it is just a matter of settling a few hurdles.. another miracle is in the making.. but that is not why I write this post.

I write this post to dispel what many of my peers think about what they callously call ‘jhuggiwallahs“, and quickly qualify with a string of negative traits. No, all jhuggiwallahs are not thiefs or crooks. They are just like us and live with dignity and courage in conditions many of us cannot begin to fathom. Babli is the fourth heart surgery, and we have supported each of the families. An operation of this magnitude often entails a parent having to take leave and we have have helped them with food and basic amenities. Let me assure you that once the child is through, we have never been harassed for help. The only thing we have received is an embarassing amount of gratitude.

I was hurt, angry and ultimately very sad by the outburst of a visitor who was witnessing our planning for babli operation. She cried out: “do not give them food for more than two days, all jhuggiwallahs are crooks and they will harass you for more”.

No ma’am, they are not crooks, they are human beings just like us…

A mail dropped by this morning. It simply it said:

I too want to help the slum children in our Hyderabad city, and as a first step started with a nearby slum in the outskirts. I now understand the uphill task that it is, but I won’t give up.
The main problem is the motivation. How to do that? How to keep those children off the street , to the gambling( oh there are so many versions!) the fights etc..? How to convince the parents to send them to the free teaching classes?

It was from someone who had written four years back seeking information about our work. I first thought I would reply the mail in the customary manner, but as I sat down to I realised that the words conveyed had a far deeper meaning for us at project why..

First of all it meant that a milestone had been crossed as we had moved from those who began asking many ‘whys’ to one who could now answer the hows. And to me personally, it was a validation of my often misconstrued objective of making pwhy a model that can be replicated. And if our experience can help someone wanting to reach out to children, then I am entitled to my Eureka today.

What I would like to tell our friend is that the first step is the hardest one… often one wants to but the desire never gets translated into action..but once the first step taken, once you have locked eyes honestly with the first child, there is no going back.. you just have to remember one thing: you cannot solve all the problems that surround you, but even if one life is changed, it would have ben worth the effort.. we took the first step in November 2000, never looked back and have a fair track record as proof of our success.

Now to come to the specific hows mentioned, the answer is that there is no single rule. Remember that you are doing this work because children are on the streets, because they gamble, because parents do not understand..

Even five years down the line we still face the same problems and find solutions specific to the particular situation as we are in a land where individualism is celebrated and hence no one solution works. You can only find the right solution if you have assessed the situation correctly. Many a times we have been shocked by things once we took the time to find out. In some cases you may fail but that should not deter you. You just need to be patient, forget your ego and remember your objective. Sometimes you may even have to befriend the local goon, use humour with the kids telling them that if they want to be bad then they should aim to be an educated Don… You have to accept to enterhis world first, before you pull the child out of it..

You just have to wear down your detractor of the time by using very Gandhian methods. It is during my work in the slums that I understood the sagacity of Gandhi.
There are times when you may have to compromise; that is often the case when you deal with parents, so readjust your timings, accept to look after the younger sibling while the elder one studies.. And somethings you will have to accept quietly, hoping that the next generation will understand..

But never give up. The children have paid far too much for the mistakes of us adults, ranging from ignorance to callousness.. It is time we made it up to them.

Nanhe has a smile to die for… and yet does he have a reason to smile, one wonders…

The youngest of five children, he was not even given a name, simple called nanhe..the tiny one. Nanhe has multiple disabilities. When he landed on planet why he could barely hold his head. The innumerable scars on his head were sufficient proof of the number of falls that child had suffered. Incontinent because of impaired kidneys, Nanhe was also often the butt of ridicule and repugnance.

Nanhe came to project why a few months back and has become an important part of our special section. As he is carried out of Sitaram’s blue vehicle, we are treated to his special smile, a moment we look forward to every morning. Nanhe participates in all activities and is even starting to take a few halting steps in spite of his deformed feet. And yet his pain is far from over as he has been diagnored with kidney and bladder stones and needs emergency surgery next week to clear a blockage that is causing him severe pain.

Nanhe has an infective joie de vivre, but as I watch him every morning I wonder what this child’s tomorrows are going to be.. and I feel totally helpless.. we will deal with one problem but another will appear and even if we heal the body, what hapens next, Nanhe can never lead a normal life..

Nanhe lost his father and his mother barely manages to feed her family, one in which three children have disabilities. A brave woman indeed but with all odds against her..

These are moments when one cannot call logic to the rescue. Some will say karma, but whose karma, the mother’s or the little child’s?

And yet everything in little Nanhe’s demeanour is impregnated with a desire to live.. so what we can do is make those days as happy as possible … and maybe, just maybe, nanhe is there to show us that life is worth living… provided you do things right

It was a very special afternoon on planet why..

At 1 pm the children of the special section were ready to receive their guests. There was a sense of palpable excitement as their classroom got ready for the show: a big screen, a LCD projector, a young indian astronomer and the senior primary and secondary girls. Over 50 people crowded in the little room where Pranjal was about to take them to a journey across the solar system…

A motley crowd it was where difference was the uniting factor. People no one would have put together to watch such a show. Yet they sat as the msyteries of the universe got unravelled by this young scientist who intuitively knew how to reach every single mind, with simple words and stunning pictures so that each one, could travel and dream for that one moment in time…

One again planet why had conjured its magic… as for that one hour all differences were left outside and only the joy of learning remained..