a big boy now
Seeing Utpal is always a celebration and I must confess that since he has gone to boarding school I do miss seeing his little face and incredible smile.
Yesterday was a special day as we had to give the first instalment of our land and we all knew that this had to be done by no one else but Utpal. And though it was not PTM day, we made the necessary phone calls and got the required permissions.
We reached the school and as we sat in the reception area we soon saw Utpal strutting down the corridor all bundled up and wearing his stunning smile. Soon it was hugging and cuddling time though I could sense his almost imperceptible unease – he was now a big boy – and stopped immediately.
He sat with us at first a little self conscious as we were surrounded by teachers and staff but to my absolute delight he soon reverted to his old endearing self and asked me what I had brought for him. He smiled with glee when I handed him over his bag of goodies filled with his favourite biscuits and cookies and set about examining his booty. He then opened one packet and after eating one biscuit set off to go and share it with his pals.
Soon it was time to leave and unlike past days when parting was always difficult he waved us a cheery goodbye and set off back to the game he had left to come and meet us. I guess this time I was the one to wipe the corner of my eye but was happy to see that Utpal had settled in his new life.
a ray of hope
Little Anisha came visiting. It is always a delight to see her sunshine smile even if it sometimes it takes some time coming. My thought went to just about a year back when we feared for her life that seemed to hold on by a breath.
But children have a way of making up for loss time and little Anisha was always a fighter. Today she looked just like any other little girl all set to start her school life and that is what she had come to do: get admitted in our creche!
It is moments like this that make everything we do worthwhile and give us the courage to carry on in spite of everything.
I wonder what the future hold for this lovely child. I simply know that beautiful morrows await her.
God bless her and walk with her.
the girl child
India may have its first woman president but it is going to be a long time before the girl child in India gets the same right as her male sibling. What is tragic is that it is often the mother, a girl child herself, who treats her that way.
No mother will ever accept that but one just has to look at things to see the difference. The three kids in the picture are siblings, whereas the boy was dressed warmly as the morning was chilly, the little girls were sent to school in summer frocks.
I wonder why mothers react this way. One would have thought that having suffered similar humiliations themselves they would not perpetrate them and yet it is the mothers who are the real culprits.
This is one of the reasons why the theme selected for the first meeting of the women’s group at the Kamala centre was the girl child and we decided to show Matrubhhomi as we felt that it was one every woman should see particularly in a land where one the one hand women are worshipped but on the other they are used and abused!
Over 15 women attended the meeting and the issue of the girl child was debated with passion and verve. Every one agreed that something had to be done and that the girl child needed to be protected but they also accepted the fact that it would not be an easy task. They all promised to give the matter some thought and come back for the next meeting with ideas for an awareness campaign.
We know it is no mean task as the laws themselves are far from being respected. This came to light the very next day in a glaring manner: a pregnant lady, mother of two girls came to our centre asking us to keep her daughters till late evening as she worked. She also told us that the child she was carrying was yet another girl as had been revealed by an ultrasound she had done recently. Were not sex determination tests banned in our city?
You can share some of the moments of our first women meeting here
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new vistas- new dreams- new journeys
Once again we are ready to set sail on a new journey, one whose course is still uncharted but one we know will have safe and bountiful landings. As a rock pile slowly gets transformed into an island of hope, we too have decided not to wait but get going by setting up a trial foster care programme with a handful of children from both our proposed residential projects.
We feel this is necessary as it will enable us to validate what till now was a dream and also assess the problems in situ thus make the course corrections needed. This is crucial and will go a long way in helping us define the selection process for the foster care programme as its success depends on the total commitment of the parents. It will also help us determine the resources needed and test the dedication of the staff.
At present we are thinking of having 2 young adults from the special section and 4 boys for the foster care cum scholarship programme. I would also like to include our little Babli who still dreams of being a police woman but whose family is barely able to feed her!
A flat across our present office will soon be available and we hope to begin this exhilarating journey a month from now and we invite you to travel with us and share each and every moment of it with us through a blog we have simply entitled: let us begin!
It is a unique journey that we hope will enable these kids to break the circle of poverty they live in and would go an living in for long and open for them doors that till now were only for the selected few. One day these children may be doctors, engineers, honchos, artists, administrators and much else. The thought is thrilling and awe inspiring but we know this day will come!
the society of schools
I have been watching, with utter dismay and deep concern, the plight of parents running from pillar to post to get their children admitted to nursery in a schools across Delhi, India’s capital city. The nursery admission saga has been going on for quite some time in this city with a wide range of unlikely protagonists in the fray: school authorities, state government, parent’s associations, activists and even the judicial system. And if that is not enough parents now resort to every trick in the bag: pleas, threats and the now sated string pulling!
Education is a a constitutional right for each and every child and yet good educations seems elusive. Over the years a surreptitious and complex caste system has evolved within the society of schools. And sadly education which should be a level playing field has now transformed itself into yet another social status definer with the better one coming at a higher price. A peek into any of the high caste one is sufficient to prove this: some schools today look more like luxury resorts than places of learning. The lower ones a.k.a government schools on the other hand defy all description. In the middle lie a plethora of schools that have mushroomed over the years as education made a subtle shift from places of learning to commercial enterprises, where quality is often sacrificed.
I was horrified when a young nephew ,who is in one of the leading schools in Delhi came for help with is French classes,a subject offered by many leading schools. His copy book was full of mistakes and the pronunciation he had been taught seemed Spanish and not French! The child would have been better off learning Sanskrit or any other Indian language. I brought this fact to the attention of his parents in the hope that they would take it up with the school, but a the look of alarm on their faces reminded me of the long haul it had been for them to get this child admitted into this prestigious school. They were in no mood to rock the boat.
I have always been a strong proponent of the common school system. A school in the neighborhood a child could walk to, a school where children from all walks of life would learn together and celebrate difference, a school where the only admission criterion would be your place of residence. No child should be subjected to rejection at an early age which is what is happening today as parents run from one school to another dragging little 3 years old who are made to go through incomprehensible interviews and complex admission procedures. They may not be able to express themselves but imagine what they feel as they listen to their parents vent their feelings. To me this is just another form of child abuse.
A self respecting society should ensure that this does not happen.
The wonder that is India
Sunday 20 January will remained engraved in my memory for times to come. I normally shy away from TV appearances but when a leading Hindi channel called to say they wanted to do a programme on pwhy I accepted more for the sense of elation it gives my team. At that time I thought it would be a story on our activities and a little publicity could only help and would look good on our CV!
When the shooting was done I fell off my chair when the young reporter told me that I had to come to the studio the next day as the programme was a live call in one. That was out of my league but one look at the young reporter’s face and I knew there was no way I could back out.
I walked into the studio as nervous as someone going in for her first job interview but the kind anchor and then the pictures of pwhy kids as the story was played did manage to calm my thumping heart. But nothing could have prepared me for what was yet to come.
As the last image of the report faded away and the anchor began her introduction the first call came in from a remote part of India and then another and yet another and the beautiful words of love and encouragement from these simple people filled me with a range of emotions I cannot begin to unravel: I just know I felt tiny, humbled and undeserving of all the praise that was coming my way, but at the same time my heart filled with pride and elation as an India I always knew existed reached out to me.
The calls kept coming: someone who wanted to give a month’s salary, a bunch of college students who wanted to help, people asking how they could help children, people wanting to help us.. and a simple touching message that simply said: I have no money to donate but I want to work for the poor. I am a housewife…
People from all walks of life, from different states, from different faiths came forward with words of praise and encouragement and offers to help! It was moving and soul stirring and wondrous. Above all it was a vibrant proof of the reality that is India, of the land that we all need to fight for, a reminder of how we as a responsible civil society had to shed our cynicism and selfish ways and stop being armchair reformers and begin acting.
For me personally it was the vindication of much of what my parents had taught me and wanted me to believe. It endorsed my father’s last words: have faith in India! Nine years in a soulless city like Delhi had eroded this faith. The simple and candid words that came my way rekindled it and renewed my resolve to carry on my work till my last breath.
That is the wonder that is India!
A rock pile…
A rock pile ceases to be a rock pile the moment a single man contemplates it, bearing within him the image of a cathedral wrote St Exupery. How right he was.
For me this piece of barren line ceased to be barren from the moment we decided that it was the one chosen to hold planet why. From that instant in time reason took leave of absence and the heart took over. Never mind if one did not know how or when; never mind how daunting the task at hand looked; never mind the obstacles that could come our way, planet why was a reality that just had to happen.
Another beautiful quote of the same author flashed in my mind: if you want to build a ship, don’t drum up people together to collect wood and don’t assign them tasks and work, but rather teach them to long for the endless immensity of the sea and I realised that this was what lay between today and the day when planet why would be a vibrant reality: my ability to get people to long for planet why as much as I did.
No mean task in a world where people have long forgotten the beauty of simple things and lost their ability to think beyond their own needs. And yet beautiful things live on and miracles happen. Just a few days back I would not have believed that I would be standing at the edge of a dusty road looking at a piece of barren land. Just a few days back I was simply trying to figure out how we would go through the next month and the next… the rock pile just remained a hope, a dream, a longing, a prayer… one that I had left to a higher being to fulfill.
The road to this dusty road has been a long one. For a long time I did try to get others to long for it just as I did, but at some point of time I surrendered the thought to the wind knowing within myself that it would ultimately land safely some day. It did, far sooner than I could have imagined and in the most unlikely way possible leaving us all speechless.
The journey is not over and much remains to be done. But it will all come together as long as we keep on longing for the essential, as long as we keep looking with our hearts and as long as we keep on taking one step after another in the right direction.
a bag of miracles
When Utpal fell into my lap almost 4 years ago he was scalded, swathed in bandages and quite frankly not a pretty site. And yet as I held his fragile body and looked into his incredibly beautiful eyes I knew this was no ordinary child but a very special emissary who had landed my way for a purpose.
As years went by his bag of miracles unfolded and each time something extraordinary happened one felt one had finally unraveled the reason of his appearance in our lives. But as time went by we realised that we would never be able to keep up with him and he would never cease to amaze us.
When we had conceived of planet why and dreamt about it we had never imagined what it would turn out to be when it actually happened. Frankly we were quite content with the image we had conjured and in fact felt it was larger than life. A place for our lost souls was more than we could hope for. But for our little miracle man it was not enough. He had done his bit by sending a set of angels our way but with them came a rider: over and above shelter for our lost souls, we would need to ensure that more kids like him would one day be able to wear smart school uniforms and attend schools that actually were not meant for them and have pals they could laugh and play with.
So be it. You cannot argue with orders that come from blessed souls;you just have to obey them and give them your best though you are more than a little perplexed about what and when the next diktat would come.
Today we set out on our new mission with a song in our heart, a prayer on our lips and renewed determination to see planet why become the hallowed ground we hope it will as what is at stake is far more than anyone can imagine!
just getting through the night
To many this may just look like a barren piece of land, and it is just that if you look with your eyes. But today I ask you to look with your heart just as a little prince did in a marvelous fable and said: What makes the desert beautiful is that it hides a well somewhere…
If you do agree to look with your heart then this ungainly piece of land will soon transform into a place where dreams come true. It all began almost 8 years ago with a disturbing encounter between a middle aged a woman and a young man abused hurting and forsaken by all and a preposterous dream: to give this man a real home. At that time the dream did seem absurd;just a meal or a set of clean clothes was what reason dictated but the woman was a dreamer and the dream refused to go away.
The meal was bought, the clothes too, but it did not seem enough and a journey began as somehow she felt that the dream would be fulfilled when day would break, it was just a matter of getting through the night!
It was a long night, and along it more dreams came each of them as impossible as the first one particularly if you allowed yourself to look with your eyes, one just had to keep the heart wide open. Many little hurting souls joined the bandwagon and midway remedies were found and applied but the dream refused to go, on the contrary it became larger and bigger: a home for all the hurting souls, a smile on all the faces that had forgotten to smile, a haven for all those forsaken by their own!
And as it became larger, the woman realised that it was now way beyond her league but she knew she had to just get through the night: day would break. And all through the night she kept praying as she knew that now the matter was not in her hands anymore. And then one fine day Angels appeared and decided that the time had come for the day to dawn.
So look the the picture again: this is where planet why will soon become a reality. This where Manu’s home will be, where Champa will roam freely, where Nanhe will smile away and where Sapna will jump to her heart’s content and many more lost souls will live a dignified and happy life. But the Angels did not want to stop at that, this where many little Utpal’s will don their smart school uniforms and leave for school and one day will stand shoulder to shoulder with those born on the other side of the fence.
So this is no barren piece of land, this is sacred ground, a place where dreams come true, where angels do not fear to tread, a place where the day finally breaks.
Dreams do come true; you just have to get through the night!
moving times – movie time
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.
to hold on to their wings
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.
the new toast of town
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!
If not for you
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!
dance with your heart
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
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Tommy can you hear me
Tommy can you hear me sang the Who in their famous rock opera way back in 1970! Soon we at project why will be singing Rinky, Saheda, Pooja can your hear us!
These three lovely hearing impaired girls who have been with us now for many years will soon be able to hear thanks to some very special friends in Germany!
They will be fitted with very sophisticated hearing aids that will allow them to hear the world and learn new experiences and above all be safe!
Rinky will be able to hear her clients at the beauty parlour where she works part-time and maybe get the raise she hopes. Her walk back home late in the evening will be less frightening. Saheeda will find it easier when she joins her beauty course in March and little Pooja may be able to learn much more before she decides what she wants to do in life!
Yesterday they audiometrist came for the first measurements and it was quite an experience:
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If I had a hammer
If I had a hammer…I’d hammer out love between my brothers and my sisters goes the age old lyrics of Lee Hays and Pete Seeger.
I remembered this song when the Mitchells came to project why on the very first day of 2008. they had come all the way from Spain where they lead a retired life to volunteer at project why and wanted not just to spend time with the children but wanted to help build or repair something. Well we do not have much that we could build, but the floor our Okhla centre that sits pretty in our reclaimed garbage dump was in a pitiable state and the Mitchells decided that they would rebuild it.
To any sane person, the building ways of India are nothing short of anti-diluvial but this wonderful couple would stop at nothing. The first task was to buy material. A trip to the local store turned out to be quite an experience as the store keeper could not understand why we did not want any mason or labour too! It took a long tome explaining but we managed and then for the next three days a happy crew of two lovely beings and a gang of excited kids set out to break and plaster the broken floor. It was bitterly cold and the cement and water was freezing. needless to say that there were no gloves and most of the kids were barefoot but the task was undertaken with eagerness and enthusiasm and oodles of fun.
Many bystanders wondered why two white people were dirtying their hands in this godforsaken place: the answer was simple they were hammering out love.
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The ides of January
Come January 15th we run the risk of getting stopped by the police and asked for an identity proof or give the reason for our staying in Delhi. This is what the administrative head of the city decreed some time back. Nothing wrong as this is something that happens in many cities the world over. But oh darling yeh hai India and things are quite different here.
As soon as the news was made public the political head of the city candidly stated on national TV: I got to know about this from the newspapers making one wonder whether we are in some kind of wonderland!
In spite of being independent for over six decades, we as a nation have not been able to issue a unique ID card to all our citizens. A photo identity card is what will now be mandatory: passport, driving licence, ration card, voter ID card were some of the suggestions made. This may be feasible for some but for many who live in this city it is a a quasi impossibility. Securing a civic identity proof is a catch 22 situation as we learnt when we tried to get Manu one. Yet Manu is no migrant: he was born in this city over 30 years ago! In spite of all our efforts we failed!
I shudder to think at what might happen come the ides of January; simple people who try to eek a living in this city will be unnecessarily harassed and will have to once more pay their way out as the police carry their supposed random checks!
Yes we need ID cards for all citizens of the country and this is something the government should ensure in a doable manner keeping in mind the existing reality. Unfortunately what happens is that to meet political ends short cuts are often adopted as one often sees during elections. I must confess that I have always voted though I do not have an election card as make shift solutions were always at hand.
Guess time has come again to look for such solutions! A sad reflection of the reality we live in!
not only dream but also act
This morning S dropped by at the women centre to discuss our road map for planet why. It was not a matter of convincing ourselves, or anyone else for that matter, of the validity of the project. It even makes good business sense were it viewed solely as a business proposition. Actually it has to be so, as we need the profits to continue the work we began 8 years ago and graduate from the status of perpetual albeit high-tech beggars to that of people capable of fulfilling our dreams ourselves.
I have often talked about planet why and shared my vision trying to view it from all possible angles: be it the sustainability factor or the humane one. I have pitched it within the confines of social enterprise as well as that of what is now known as volontourism! Which ever way one looked at it, it always seemed to make sense.
As Anatole France said: To accomplish great things, we must not only act, but also dream; not only plan, but also believe. I guess one needs to turn the quote a little as dreamed and believe we have, now it is time to act!
I remember the days when I found it infra-dig to speak of money. I shudder to think of all that was owed to me that I never sought back. Then came pwhy and with it many little dreams that needed to be fulfilled; dreams entrusted to me by the God of Lesser Beings. And the only way to accomplish this daunting yet edifying task was to quickly give up what one considered demeaning and learn to beg. I must admit I learnt quickly and that is how we could achieve all that we have.
Today as we set out to translate another dream into reality I find myself faced with the necessity of taking a quantum leap in my new found profession as what we need today is a staggering figure with a string of zeros I cannot even formulate. And yet the dumbfounding figure pales in the wake of what it would actually yield: smiles on faces that had forgotten to smile, hope in hearts where there was only despair, shelter to those who live in constant fear and above all a tomorrow for those whose today has died.
Actually it is something was one has been doing till now but the target was small as it was just a matter of being able to carry on one day at time, one month at a time and so on for nearing nine years now! But this hand to mouth existence can only be temporary just as we are. What we seek now is secure all the tomorrows and moor them firmly so that little boys little Utpal can sleep in peace. That is what planet why is all about.
I know that there are people across the planet who know how to see with their hearts. I did find so many of them and they are the ones who made pwhy the vibrant reality it is is. I need now to just like the Little prince of St Exupery to set out on new travels and find the right ones. Past experience has shown that they are not easy to come by but dreams are never easy to fulfill and one does comes across businessmen too busy to look at you. But one has to persevere till the end and view the humongous figure as an aggregate of many smaller ones as my dear friend M put it.
I also know that simple humane stories of children will not suffice this time. So we do have our set of learned men furiously making plans with all the needed columns and projections to reassure the kind hearted persons who will be willing to invest in our dream to prove to them that it is worthy of their trust.
Nothing happens unless first we dream. (Carl Sandburg)
brand project why
Pwhy has its own special way of celebrating special occasions; one may even call it brand project why and 1 January 2008 once again reflected this.
It was a bitterly cold crisp morning as we set out bright and early ready to make the best of this first day of the new year which promised to be a busy one. The Mitchells a retired couple from the UK were to come by at 9 am. They had come all the way to volunteer at pwhy and they wanted to help us build or repair something. It was to be the broken floor of our Okhla centre. They had already purchased all the material and were waiting for us!
The morning was spent breaking the old floor and beginning work in earnest with the help of the older children and the teachers.
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I had decided to make this day special and to play truant and do something totally out of sync and become a kid myself. It was to be a treat for Utpal and Kiran: a movie in a multiplex, a meal at fast food joint and a quick foray into a candy store. We did it all and i did enjoy hanuman returns a true delight in more ways than one! Wish they made more such movies!
While I enjoyed my escapade, the rest of the gang decided to mark the day by organising an impromptu party with the few kids that had brae the cold to come to pwhy. So party time it was for the junior secondary and the special kids – our own tare zameen par – ! They danced with gay abandon forgetting all differences and then enjoyed hot samosas, discovering each other and forging new bonds!
the excitement was palpable as you can see in these pictures:
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Now you understand what brand project why is: a melting pot of different worlds where the only common denominator is love!
Happy New Year
yet another tale of two Indias.
It was half an hour past midnight, half an hour into the 2008. A young ice cream vendor was braving the bitter cold in the hope of making a few more rupees and maybe set the tone for the New Year. A short distance away another man took the wheel of his car after partying and many drinks and sped to maybe another bash. In a case of Jungian synchronicity their paths met as the speeding car crashed into the ice cream cart. The ice candy man died; the other a journalist is out on bail.
Deaths occur everyday on Delhi streets. Yet what makes this case poignant is that the past week has been replete with warnings on drinking and driving particularly on New Year’s ever which has somewhat is a night with license to drink! That the man was a journalist is even more frightening. One would like to believe that education makes the world a safer place to live in but reality points to the opposite.
I wonder what it is that makes seemingly sensible people act with a total lack of responsibility? Is it arrogance or cockiness; is it total disregard for the other particularly when he or she belongs to the other side of the fence? Questions that do not seem to have obvious answers.
And yet one needs to find them!