pappu pass ho gay(i)
when i asked some kids what made them laugh most, they all refereed to the famous chocolate ad where big B leaps of joy at ‘pappu’ passing his XIIth..
well yesterday when rani brought her class X result, my joy was not for the camera, it was genuine .. and that for many reasons..
the first is maybe because i simply love this young spirited woman.. but more than that because from the time i set eyes on her exactly five years ago to the day… she has never let me down.. from accepting to work without salary as a health and nutrition volunteer, to taking on small responsibilities to becoming my right arm and steering the day-to-day activities of project why..
rani was a shy withdrawn girl, who had dropped out of class IX as she had been severely beaten for not having brought her fees in time, and her mom had decided to stop her schooling..
well this year she decided to sit for her Xth Boards, did not even take a day of leave to study – god knows when she did – and came beaming yesterday with her results..
rani today steers a project which has 400 kids, a staff of 40 many of whom i have seen her grow..
but what makes this woman special is that she takes on any challenge with a smile and a determination no one can compete with… somehow she vindicates project why’s stand of empowering people..
of pigs.. garbage dumps … and new beginnings
look at the picture.. this is a project why classroom..
many of you may have conjured a ‘glam’ picture of project why.. yet this how we began in giri nagar five years ago, and this is what our new class room in okhla phase I, next to the railway tracks looks like…
we cleared part of a garbage dump, and set up our classroom and slowly the childen began to come in droves, and now there are more than 150 and our two spirited ladies who teach them…
maybe 5 years down the line, we would have found space in the umpteen factories that surround us… but now we need to carry on right here.. in this dump because that is how we manage to stop childen being used by uncaring adults to steal from the rail bogies or peddle drugs.. and hope to guide them back to a school, though there is no primaryschool close by..
of course no one likes us yet..we disturb the prevailing scenario.. and often on monday mornings our teachers find our classroom destroyed… but they valiantly rebuild it and carry on..
but the rains are around the corner and we need to repair the classroom..
maybe some kinds souls will come and helps us do so..
the long way home
funding is the one constant source of anguish to anyone engaged in work like ours.. there are many sources but we decided to take the long way home..
this is primarily because our commitment to empowerment only makes sense if its has a duration in time and remains rooted in a people steered approach..
we could have taken one of the oh so tempting short cuts, but they all end in mirages or dead ends: a big donor leaves town and bye bye children… india tests a nuclear device and some countries stop all aid so bye bye children… suddenely education is no more the flavour of the day so bye bye children again… the list is endless
and the poor unsuspecting beneficiary is the ultimate victim: the child loses its support system, women lose a job that had brought dignity and respect…
so we chose a the long road home, where home is the day the local community would steer such efforts by emulating the model we set.. a model based on large numbers and small sums of money.. the famous one rupee idea!
what is a rupee a day, or 365 rupee a year in today’s reality: a large pizza at the fast food joint, a movie for two, something each one could give up without even realising it..
then why is the long way home such a difficult one…
all you need is to look at the smile of this child who suffered third degree burns and who was left for dead.. he smiles because of those who walked the long way with us..
don’t you think it is worth it….
main hoon na!
main hoon na! or here I am is what each tiny project why tot proudly says every morning at roll call!
these three little words are overflowing with meaning… they are not simply an affirmation or act of presence, they hold all their still unformulated dreams.. dreams that can only be fulfilled if people find their hearts and reach out to help..
and when they fold their hands in prayer and look up, it is the same three words they say to the invisible one!
to help us fulfill their dreams we need caring souls to part with a rupee a day! easier said than done particularly in this city where people seem to have lost their heart somewhere…
everyone wants to know what they would get in return.. and you stoically retort in a soft voice: the satisfaction of helping educate children – but it does not cut the ice… you get a curt – all NGOs are crooks– and you want to scream – but come and see our work.. – but who has the time..
many friends say – go find a celebrity – but where does one find one who would be willing to associate with a down to earth effort like ours…
never mind if we get children new hearts, or give employment to destitute mothers, or even arrest drop out rates in school.. we cannot get you a place in page 3.. we never learnt how… and the question is – do we really want to…
i think you know the answer..
women of substance
meet sophiya and pushpa.. one is a tribal from ranchi the other a dalit..
sophiya and pushpa run our okhla primary extension programme..
it was about a year ago that we decided to start this centre, and these two ladies were the chosen ones to go and set it up from scratch and they did, to our utter amazement: found a dump, cleared it and cleaned it, set up a shack, negotiated with the cops and local politicos, handled the local goons, found the children and today teach over 100 kids, in conditions that would scare off many…
and they do it with a smile, without a word of complaint..
to me these two women of substance epitomise the spirit of project why, which only makes sense if community members can learn the skills and gain the ability to set up extension centres in different places learning to deal with local problems and find support within.
Women are like stars…only one can make your dreams come true!
i’m explaining a few things
you are going to ask what is it that makes project why different.. so to borrow one of neruda’s poem titles i will say: i’m explaining a few things
look at the picture, a simple one of a teacher and a handful of children…
now listen:
the teacher is a gadiya lohar, the gypsy blacksmiths that many of you have passed by on the busy roads of the capital, often beating the iron with poised grace. they are almost invisible, for the see them you have to look with your heart and listen to the centuries of history that brought this proud tribe where it is today. Most of her peers would by now be mothers of many. Sarika managed to study till class IX in spite of all odds and we decided to giver her a new identity, that of a teacher… she has proved worthy of every bit of trust we put in her..
little manju who sits in the middle is one of the most neglected child one has come across. she is the youngest of three siblings who were abandonned by a cowardly father..
the other kids also have stories that would melt the coldest heart, they belong to diverse communities , religions, castes… does it matter
normally they would have been playing on unsafe streets, or been used by adults to fetch and carry, or even be sent across busy roads to buy a pouch of chewing tobacco..
but they sit every day and learn to live, to share, to sing, to play, to laugh.. under the loving eye and hearwarming dedication of a young woman of substance
they learn to love trees, to save water, to respect the environment..
they learn about other lands and people..
they learn that duties come before rights…
they will one day have to face the world, a world ridden by problems and ugly realities, but we hope that by then they will have ben infused by the spirit of project why that would have taught them to be simply human beings!
So of you if you wonder what project why is all about: come and see the children on our street!
the other side of WHY
one heart has been mended, one kid is back on course…
a bunch of sparkling eyed kids are busy studying…
another lot are busy learning the rules of living in our world..
little stars shine as they learn their numbers and letters..
a planet continues its charted course…
but there is another side of WHY
the one that never ceases to question and look for answers
if you look closely at aditya, the little fellow on the picture you will see a little face filled with questions that seem not to have any answers: here are some
why did my father die ?
why is everyone so nasty to my mother?
why did no one give me medicine when my face was hurting so much?
why do i hear my mama weep at night?
and the list is endless
aditya’s mama is 19, aditya is not even 2. the father died of brain fever last year. his family threw aditya and his mother out. aditya lives with his maternal grandmother who can barely make both ends meet.
we cannot spend time wondering why (!) we need to do something… and we did.
after getting aditya the medical help he needed (injectable antibiotics) we decided to help Neha find a tomorrow and thanks to friends today Neha attends a beautician course at the Shanaz Hussain School and will one day get a job and maybe her own parlour… though we are still looking for a kind heart to sponsor the course material which is quite expensive (4K!) and the monthly bus fare.
And every morning , as Neha sets out on the road of her new life, little aditya sits in our creche working out all the little unworded questions that crowd his tender mind.
And the one question I know bothers him the most is: when will mama smile again!
The WHY Ruse
Arun’s operation is over and God willing he will get better by quantum leaps: children have an uncanny way of making up for lost time!
But for us at project why the task is not over. It never is.
We do not believe in full stops. Everything that happens, every incident that comes our way, every moment carries in it the seed of something new: that is what I like calling the WHY ruse.
Be it an award received, a task completed, a child healed, an exam success: they are all made to be touched by this ruse
So if a new support group saw the light with arun’s operation it now becomes a moot point for much more. Sometimes the ruse is only relevant within project why, but the litmus test is when one can draw in unlikely and unsuspecting candidates!
If those who generously adorned one with unsollicited awards agreed to walk that one extra step, one could do so much more.
And what makes it more interesting is that the ruse works both ways: does it not make us at project why also responsible of being worthy of what was received?
Think about it
If you give money, spend yourself with it.
Two recent occurrences set me thinking about the new lucrative field that I will just call giveBizMess and the new meaning of words like ‘giving’,’charity’ and their XXI st century mutations ‘development causes’ and ‘NGO sector’ etc..
A quick glance at history and quotes from the world over read like:
The desire of power in excess caused the angels to fall; the desire of knowledge in excess caused man to fall; but in charity there is no excess, neither can angel or man come in danger by it. Francis Bacon
or
If you haven’t got any charity in your heart, you have the worst kind of heart trouble. Bob Hope
or
Charity never humiliated him who profited from it, nor ever bound him by the chains of gratitude, since it was not to him but to God that the gift was made. Antoine De Saint-Exupery
The list is endless, but there is one common thread and that is that giving is a one way street and not a business transaction with strings tied to it.
My half a century journey on this planet has shown me time and again that when we humans are uncomfortable with something we tend to marginalise it and kick it off the mainstream. Hence one who does not play by today’s rule is at once branded as ‘silly’ ‘stupid’ and more of the same.
Now to come back to the two incidents that started this stream of thought, one is the unending stream of donations tagged ‘tsunami’, whereby people or institutions have unleashed a wave of giving bigger than a tsunami wave, and that is also likely to have as negative an impact.
The second incident is the one that began by a simple offer to help a child and has also unleashed a rather incomprehensible stream of events where one child’s case has brought to light the ugly or rather sad connotations that charity assume in our day and age.
I think one needs to be ‘charitable’ in dealing with these issues or otherwise one is at risk of being drawn into the givBizMess Syndrome where the one who gives takes on the bigger role defeating the act of giving itself.
What a bit of humour would lead one to ask is:
How come people who normally do not find the time, inclination or need to part with a few coins for simple day-to-day activities such as education, nutrition or old age care – to name a few – to people around them, acquire an impatient eagerness to do the same when a tsunami (word unknown till 26-12-04) hits lands they will never see?
How come one child’s surgery assumes so much importance that money that could have almost paid for one such surgery is spent on phone calls, when a simple request for help for two little girls needs a Board of Directors to meet?
This is the result of giveBizMess, where what was intended to be an almost subliminal act becomes a pure commercial activity where every one wants its pound of flesh.
Giving is an act of love, an act where the only reward you can truly seek is the one you have to look for deep in the eyes of those you sought to help.
But it requires you to make the effort of looking into those eyes and the terrible risk of losing yourself in them!
note: the word bizMess is the brainchild of my friend DV; i just thought it fitted the picture like a glove!
it is only with the heart that one can see rightly
what is essential is invisible to the eye..
was the secret the fox gave the little prince.
as i watched arun sleep today on his hospital bed, his heart beating valiantly and with great effort, these words came to my mind and i wondered what aruns’ heart had ‘seen’ till now.
adults for whom the dead were more important than the life of a child; adults who sat helpelessly cursing life and everything and everyone around but not really doing anything..
children play and run while this child lay helplessly just trying to get from one heartbeat to the nxt…
children learning while this child was stopped from going to school because he may have got hurt..
did arun question the unfairness of life..
or did he just smile thorugh it all with a wisdom born from years of suffering in silence, i do not know..
i still remember the first time i saw him: he just smiled and that smile conveyed everything he wanted to say. I knew arun wanted to live, to make up for the lost years, maybe to run and laugh like other children..
and i knew i would do everything i could to make it possible..
But I never asked to be born..
look at this lovely face.. it belongs to Durga, our very own Utpal’s half sibling, and his only family!
this morning I was shocked to see large welts across this beautiful, innocent face… she had been beaten by her mother..
Durga’s story is what movies are made of.
Many years ago her mother, a child herself, was ‘married’ to a man in a remote village in Bengal. The man left the woman and never recognised the child. Another man wanted the woman but not the child. So Durga was left to the care of an ailing grandmother and a reluctant uncle, while the mother decided to live her own life..
Durga grew fromm child to ‘ little woman’ and somewhere along the way the grandmother died. The uncle was not willing to take on the responsibility of a young girl and Durga was packed to Delhi, to a family she never knew.
In the small room where they live, this young girl brought memories that the mother did not want revived, and the new ‘father’ found more ammunition for the unkind words hurled in drunken anger.
Yesterday, Durga was beaten, for being born, for being alive…
Did anyone hear her when she whispered: But I never asked to be born
two simple words…
watch these little bravehearts as they petition the God of of the lesser ones…
and you wonder what they are seeking when everything in this world conjures to harm them!
some cannot hear..
simple minds cannot fight the daily abuse they are subjected to..
and an intelligent mind locked in a useless body brings daily sneers…
as a guileless smile cannot convey the scars left on a violated body..
and yet when they come piled in limousine 1472, their three wheeled cindrella coach steered by the big hearted stern looking coachman, a palpable feeling of joy and hope fills project why, infusing large doses of cheer in all of us..
they leave their dark world at the stroke of 8.30 am and till 4 pm walk into light… they set about their chores in an environment when they know they are not judged, laughed at or belittled.. in a place where they can just be themselves…
yes the clock will strike 4 – it does every day – but that is a long time away for these lovely souls who live instant after instant and laugh, fight, cry, play or to sum it up simply live…
so I wonder as I watch them every morning eyes shut and hands folded : what is it that their almost incomprehensible words are saying to the one we all turn to in our moments of despair..
and sometimes the wind blows back two gentle words to me… thank you!
A man never stands as tall as when he kneels to help a child.
a child will get a new heart, two little girls may be able to live a normal life, a bunch of kids people had given up on cleared their Xth boards with marks as high as 75%, a little girl who could barely hold her head two years ago at age 5, dances and laughs..
and we do feel proud today…
because we never gave up, because we never turned anyone away, because we always took on challenges and above all because we learnt how to kneel so that we also could stand tall!
the blade broke…
everyday, when I leave for project why, I always wonder what will happen, as every day I learn something new that often makes me change my ways…
It can be something a child says or does, some wondrous achievement that fills you with delight and joy, it can be a mishap that makes you hare down in many directions..
But sometimes nothing prepares you for the encounter of the day… like today!
Preeti and her sister had not been coming for many days. The family had recently shifted to a make shift camp nearby, the father being a construction worker, but normally the children did come, even if it was a little late..
We had been a little worried and tried to find out why the girls had not come.
One of our staff members was sent out. Hew came back and told us that little Preeti’s finger had got stuck in the fan…. what I never could have imagined is what I heard next. When the father was asked how the child was, the answer was: the blade of the fan broke…!
A thousands thoughts crossed my mind: how bad was the hurt, was a tetanos shot given, had infection set in… Tomorrow we will find out what happened and we will see that Preeti is given the care she needs..
Later I sat back thinking at how those words uttered by a father showed the total lack of concern about a girl child, particularly the second girl… that she was probably in pain did not matter, that she needed medical attention did not cross anyone’s mind.. some dirty rag would have been tied, and the god of lesser children would have, once again to work his miracle!
to the manor born…
arun’s operation has been shifted from the glamour of Apollo Hospital to the down to earth corridors of AIIMS.
many will wonder why?
Should I just say that only a few are to the manor born, and project why is not one of them. So then why did one even consider it…
Till recently we citizens why lived a simple life, solving the numerous problems that come our way, as best we could, within the realm of what we knew was available to us. The kind doctor next door, the government hospital where we could find an acquaintance, often a simple worker…and somehow the god of small things and lesser children was always there to help. We managed two open heart surgeries, saved a child from third degree burns, and took care of numerous ailments. Where there was a cost to be borne, we appealed to all our friends and help always came… the virtual begging bowl never failed..
Then one day came an award, the lights and glare of the media, the rush of adrenaline that happens in spite of one’s self. And to be honest one lost one’s way and for sometime got caught in a reality that was not ours.
The god of lesser children did try and steer us away, as right from day one was not comfortable. Sadly it took a while to understand that not every one is to the manor born, and that project why has to remain within the reality it can sustain and live by honestly.
So we made the course correction needed and are back on a road we know. Arun will be operated by what is the best available to all children born in India.
citizens why are not to the manor born!
“Every child is a thought in the mind of God…
and our task is to recognize this thought and help it toward completion.”
Everyday I get reminded of this beautiful quote as I look at the little children who come to project why. It is amazing how each little pair of eyes that look at you as they mutter their often inaudible and even incomprehensible : morning maa’m, tells a story.
Look at little Karuna, my angry young lady! She seems to be perpetually cross with god knows who, maybe life itself… She goes about her daily routine, but rarely smiles..
Some eyes are filled with hurt, others with longing… still others with resignation..
I wonder if they are aware that we adults will never discover the divine thought that brought their creation, and that by the time they are able to explain it, it will be too late.. there will be no one willing to listen…
Sometimes small children do share things that sound like dreams and we just brush them aside.. but next time a child does say something, even bordering absurdity, just stop and listen…
the planet that repairs broken hearts
the past posts on this blog may have sounded to some full of anger and even hurt..
as i reread them on this quiet and hot sunday morning, i realised that it may have given to those who do not know project why, am impression far from reality..
so here is a glimpse of what our little planet really is… and above all the spirit that pervades it..
planet why is a beautiful place, where in spite of all the problems and realities that surround it, children find time to be children… a world where adults do not shout at them but laugh with them, where there is love in abundance…
where hurts are healed, problems shared, and solutions found…
it is true that it lacks space and many of the things that a child centred environment should have but does it really matter… children come no matter what…
planet why is a place where the little prince finds a flower to water, and so what if there is no fancy watering can, an old discarded plastic bottle does the job just as well… ans so what if the flower is not a ‘pedigreed’ rose, it is a one that what was planted with care by children often called those of a lesser God!
planet why is a place where difference is celebrated and respected, where each inhabitant, no matter how small or insignifiant in the outside world, is king, at least for the fews hours spent on this planet…
this week is important as a child’s broken heart will be repaired..
so are we simply the planet that repairs broken hearts!
whose life is it anyway!
ashya and fatima are twins
they are 2 years old
all their milestones are delayed
they cannot walk and cry in pain if made to stand
they cannot talk.. nor do any of the things a 24 month child does..
they have been with us for almost a year and have not grown…
ashya and fatima have two elder sisters. the father drives an auto ricshaw and the mother takes on export ‘piece’ work..
the twins are neglected and have severe behaviour problems…
we recently took them to the doctor and were horrified to learn that they had a haemoglobin count of 4.6 and 4.3…
i know we are primarily an education support programme, but then does one sit and do nothing when faced with the tragic reality of these two innocent babies…
as i write these words i shudder at the hopelesness of the situation.. what is the value of two little girls whose chances to a normal life are very remote.. who were born into a society were girls have no place.. but then can one wish them away..
the doctors will give a verdict and a road map which may or may not make up for the lost time.. but then who will implement it.. and above all sustain it..
soon these little girls will become a burden no one will want to carry…
where does one begin…
but then can one just look away…
and his heart beats on..
By this time next week Arun’s heart will be repaired ..
It should have been done years ago..
Today is the first time I could spend some quality time with this quiet, unassuming child… His tired smile was filled with hope and his frail body spoke volumes ..
Arun speaks in a soft, barely audible, voice.. he seems to have perfected the art of being unobtsrusive, almost invisible..
I wondered what went on in his mind .. Arun has held on to life.. imagine this child has gone through so much medical investigation.. so much discomfort and even pain.. and yet he continued to hold on..
I asked him what he likes eating and he simply said lauki and khichri… I guess this has been his diet for many years, a diet normally given to sick people..
Next week doctors are going to repair a congenital defect, something that would have been done years ago if Arun had been born in your or my home..
I know we will not be able to give him back his childhood, but let us hope Arun will soon lead the life any 14 year old should….
jump the band wagon
why is it that if one person thinks you have done a great job then everyone wants to say the same..
then you wonder whether there is any value at all to the ‘awards’ and ‘merit certificates‘ that get thrown at you.
strange that some of those who call and write praising you, have not even bothered to come and walk the hot streets and look into the children’s eyes..
for us at pwhy it has been ‘recognition month‘, newspapers, tv channels rotary Club and more…
I feel both amused and livid when I have to answer a call where after saying that the person wants to do a shoot or interview or hand a piece of paper he quicly asks: by the way what is it exactly that you do? or what is the nature of your work?
A dear friend who holds most of the media of today in contempt is even upset that I accept and go through the motion each time and get hurt almost every time…
But then when you hold the future of trusting children, like the one who sleeps in the picture, in your tired and feeble hands you cannot afford to brush anything away, as maybe, in spite of all the galling occurences, there maybe one person who will reach out…
So you carry on…. and deal with the hurt and the upsets by writing blogs such as this…
And sometimes add a touch of humour laced in sarcasm… as that is the only thing that helps..
Maybe all this is just a reflection of our times, when everyone is in a hurry, where ridng piggy back on others is the accepted norm, where a good story is the one that makes you cry in dispair or run in disgust…
So just as there are food festivals and commercial promotion weeks, there is maybe also pwhy award month
And as all things must past, this is will also go by and we will get back to our normal life.. a little angry, a little sad and a little tired… but ready to move on
C’est la vie!