uniforms and geometry boxes: a recipe for good education
Designers uniforms for Government school children screamed the news headline. There must be something wrong was the thought that sprung in my mind. But no, I had read it right government school children in Delhi would soon have designer uniforms and geometry boxes which in the words of the man in charge of education in our city would ensure that they should not lag behind: they being the poor students!
Something must or should be wrong. The idea was puerile and hare brained more akin to a chapter in Alice in Wonderland or a Groucho Marx movie. A deluge of thoughts crossed my mind. Wow a new way to line pockets had been found and that on a day where a leading news channel was busy highlighting the abysmal failure of the (ill)famed midday meal. What about drinking water, toilets, proper classrooms or at least teachers who teach Mr Minister.
And talking of uniforms themselves, the reality today is that kids rarely get their uniforms in toto and in time, or their school books and all else that is promised. maybe one should first ensure that was is meant to be functions properly before launching new schemes.
But is this the tale of all development programmes in India. They look good only on paper or in speeches but never truly see the light of day. It is time that we as civil society and tax payers ask some hard hitting questions.
what is essential is invisible to the eye
I have often quoted the lines the fox told the little prince in St Exupery’s memorable work: It is only with the heart that one can see rightly; what is essential is invisible to the eye. Never were these words more relevant than yesterday when a group of children with disabilities came all the way from France to visit project why.
It all began when a group of students from a special school in Paris decided to do a project on India. As they set about discovering India, one of their teachers decided to ask someone to talk about India and it was our very own xavier who was the chosen one. Not only did he talk about India but also about pwhy.
What happened next was nothing sort of incredible. Someone suggested a visit to India and project L’Inde en roues libres – freewheeling India – was born. It did not matter if all seemed impossible, life is made of dreams and dreams need to become reality.
That is how 8 young French students with various disabilities spent a stupendous morning and shared an awesome meal with 18 Indian kids with disabilities. It was a huge moment where nothing could come in the way of the perfect bonding that happened between these two groups. there were no barriers neither language nor country. Only one thing prevailed: love and understanding. There was dancing and music, laughter and moist eyes, hugging and embracing. the excitement was palpable, the mood upbeat. All disabilities were forgotten and impossible dreams crafted: a visit to France next year. Why not! One has to hold on to dreams, and hold on to them tight. Who cared about passports and visas or the mind boggling costs.
The most touching moment for me was when Champa, who is our most simple minded kid beamed at her new french friends and said: come to my home. Who cared at that instant that her home was a tiny black hovel, it was by far the most generous and heartfelt invitation.
For all these children who though from divergent worlds suffer the same rejection and contempt it was a special moment: one lot suddenly found they could reach out and help, the other realised they could have friends from another world. And for that tiny moment the world seemed perfect! The rest of the world could think whatever they wanted, these kids had claimed their right to live life at his best and even dream.
Of all the special moments that we have lived at pwhy, this was by far the most monumental as it vindicated much of what we beleive in and have fought for. And as we waved bye bye to our new friends, we all knew that we would meet again, and perhaps in paris, who knows. Only time will tell.
You can share some of these very special moments here.
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Can i dance with you
It was dancing time in the special section and as usual every one was dancing. Did not matter if you could not stand or walk, you had to dance!
Preeti cannot stand and walks with the help of her hands, but she too loves dancing. Komal decided to join the party. She is 15 months old and is our youngest creche student. As no one was quite her size she walked to Preeti and started dancing with her. To Komal it did not matter if Preeti was different, she looked at her with the wisdom of the young and found her ideal partner.
the extraordinary in the ordinary
Sometimes it is necessary to get off the spinning world, catch our breath and take a pause. Sadly this is something we rarely do as we are, or seem to be always on the run. Recently two mails dropped in my inbox and both had a similar message. They both highlighted the importance of gratitude. I guess it was because this week is thanksgiving!
We often mutter or mumble the words thank you in the course of a day and we often do it for innocuous reasons. But how often do we sit and think about all the things we should be grateful for and never acknowledge?
So today I decided to get off that spinning wheel, shed off the usual constraints that we live with and simply list all the things I should be grateful for. As I set upon this task I realised that that list was endless as when I looked at my life every single moment was one that I needed to be grateful for and somehow even the most ordinary occurrence looked extraordinary.
requiem for two lost souls
Two lost souls left this world yesterday. They had nothing in common bar the fact that they were in some way linked to pwhy.
Anil came to us almost exactly a year ago. He was 8 months old and suffered from a complex congenital heart problem. He needed multiple heart surgeries. We sponsored the first one and he was operated upon in March. His recovery was slow and he was in constant pain. It seemed that his chest bones had not been joined back properly something the doctors dismissed in a cursory way and said would be fixed at the next surgery. Anil barely ate and in spite of the love and care of his wonderful parents, Anil did not keep his appointment with the surgeons. He left this planet on his own freewill yesterday. A brave little fellow who will be remembered for his huge eyes and quiet manner.
Another lost soul left this earth yesterday crushed under the wheels of a speeding car. He was the husband of M, one of our ex staff members. M had come to me almost 6 years ago asking for help. Her husband was a drunk who earned his livelihood recycling junk but often brought nothing home. That day in a fit of temper he had thrown the food in the drain and she had nothing to feed her 5 kids. I gave her a job and for the next 2 or 3 years all was well. But sadly M a mercurial illiterate women got taken in by our detractors and lost her job.
M was always a difficult person and one who gave us many a sleepless night but today my heart goes out to her as she one again typifies the plight of women in India. Married off when they are still children without education of skill, their lives and social acceptability is totally dependent on the man they have been hitched to. As long as he is alive and no matter how wretched he is they are safe. Once he is gone they are reduced to nothing.
M had five children. Her daughter is of marriageable age, her youngest one still in primary school, her elder son a rogue. I wonder what she will do and how she will live on.
A sad day for all of us.
surrender – a response to a troubling thought
As I walked away from the hospital ward where Utpal’s mom lay sleeping unaware of the terrible ordeal that brought her there, many whys crowded my mind. I guess we humans sometimes forget that we are mere humans as we get swayed by illusions of grandeur and hubristic ways. And when our carefully crafted plans crumble like a house of cards in front of our eyes we are lost forgetting that what is, is always the best.
As I sat and tried to come to terms with what had happened, I decided to share my angst with those who knew little Utpal. Many responded with supportive words but what truly set my mind at rest and gave immense strength was a beautiful poem that simply said:
i have surrendered.
i don’t make plans anymore.
and no sudden change disturbs.
i act out of my deepest desire
the petty ones’ve disappeared.
i don’t count how much i have
it is strange how much’s there.
i spend what i find in my wallet.
oddly, just enough in my purse.
feeding on meagre alms
what was once scarce
transforms to abundance
when i give imagination a chance
a particle is enough
to build the universe.
what if you did this too?
from soul search engine by al raines
supply and demand revisited
I have never been a businesswoman and have always found economic theories as puzzling as double dutch. The only concept I could somewhat fathom was probably the supply and demand theory.
An old friend reconnected with us recently and asked whether we still needed help. He was one of those I regularly pounded with appeals for help till we somehow lost touch. He must have thought that perhaps by now we had become self sufficient! That is when the supply and demand theory sprung back into my mind after long time. In our work the demand always exceeded the supply, and how!
When we launched our new women centre barely a month ago we thought we would have a small creche, a small primary centre and a small vocational centre for women. In the span of four weeks or so the attribute small can only be ascribed to the space we have or te budget we initially made as we are flooded with children and women wanting to register and begin learning.
In our kind of work the demand will always be larger than the supply as sadly it is not easy to convince people to dip into their pockets and reach out to help others. As I said I am not an economist and maybe the rules of economics do not apply here, but I do feel that not reaching out to help others is being short sighted. A better educated and more aware population can only benefit each and everyone of us. On the other hand if the gap between the rich and poor, the have and have-nots, the privileged and underprivileged continues to widen at the rate we are seeing then all of us may have to pay a bitter price.
i want to be a pasha
Our one of a kind mr popples spent one night at home on his way back to school after Diwali holidays with his mom at our brand new women centre. As usual he was the proverbial ray of sunshine capable of lifting any sagging mood.
As we sat in the evening watching a film on TV, my daughter asked him what he would like to be when he grew up. I want to be a pasha was his answer. Little perplexed, I set out to ask him what the word pasha meant. He looked at me with his huge eyes and simply replied: a hero!
Not satisfies with his answer I egged him on as to why he wanted to be a hero. He again looked at me, this time in an slightly exasperated way and stated what he thought should have been the obvious: because a hero never dies even when he is shot.
So said I, would you like to be a pasha doctor, or a pasha pilot. He simply replied: yes. The important thing was not to die.
Popples is just five and I wonder what not dying means to a child. Difficult to decipher for someone my age.
It is amazing how children assimilate what they see and hear and how candidly they applied it to their won lives. It thus becomes very important to ensure that the right messages and images are given to them at that tender age. Unfortunately it is not easy as today’s kids live on mind boggling diets of images way beyond our control: TV, films, advertisement and peer knowledge. And they interpret what they see in their won way. What looks candid at 5 may become dangerous at an older age.
A chilling article in a national daily reveals the lifestyle of aaj ka bachalog – today’s children – and makes us wonder as to how to stop this infernal spiral for which we are responsible. In our rush to give the best to our children we have stopped giving the essential.
Popples at 5 can want to be a pasha as he watches Bollywood heroes battle and win. What is important is to slowly redefine the word for him so that it assumes new and more relevant meaning and makes him a good human being, in other words a true pasha!
disturbing musings
Delhi is slowly limping back to normal after a fortnight of festival and festivities. The air is gradually clearing up and the the crackers blasts are now sporadic though as ear shattering as ever. The roads on the morning after Diwali were a silent but shocking witness of the amount of hard earned money that went up in smoke and din.
There are many reasons assigned to the lore of bursting crackers on Diwali night. It is even said that that this was done to kill insects that abound after the rainy season! But today the smoke they create seems to be killing humans and not insects!
The question we are justified to ask is how does one alter or redefine mores and traditions that have gone out of sync with reality? Or rather who is empowered to do this. Religious heads? Civil society? Enlightened individuals?
Festival times is always one that disturbs me as it is one that makes us aware of the terrible and often lethal stranglehold of religious diktats. And nothing is more disquieting as the poor trying to find ways to acquire costly goodies to propitiate the gods even though their children go hungry. The belief that all hell will come loose if one fails to do so is what seems to guide this irrational behaviour.
Mores and traditions are so deeply ingrained into our lives that no matter what how hard one tries, they are difficult to dislodge. R has been working at pwhy for many years now. His daughter J has been our student since and is now in class X. She is a bright 16 year old who was all set to finish school. Last week her fate was sealed as her family found a suitable match and decided to get her married. As is always the case, her opinion was never sought. The deal was clinched and she remained a mute spectator watching helplessly as all her dreams were shattered one by one. J wanted to be a teacher! And I too stood helpless as my words fell on deaf ears: the adversary was too strong: one voice against an eternity of praxis.
My heart went out to this young girl and I silently petitioned all the gods in heaven to protect this child in years to come. More so as just last week we had to deal with another set of broken dreams. P, one of our young teachers recently married sought our help in resolving her sad plight: her husband now working for a software company and having a new set of friends found her unattractive and not up to the mark. What she wanted was to save her marriage. She like most Indian women, would not even think of leaving him though she is a well educated girl.
Traditions are so deeply embedded in our lives that the very thought of changing them is anathema. People are willing to agree with what you say till it touches their own lives. The way out is not easy, and yet it needs to be found.
a day at the women centre
Our very own Mr P is spending his Diwali holidays at the women centre with his mom! What a long journey it has been for this little braveheart.
It is now a happy place filled with colours and laughter. The creche has begun in earnest and is filled with children. Primary classes are held under the benevolent gaze of masterji!
Admissions have begun for stitching and beauty classes that will be starting after the festive season as women are busy right now.
A simple wholesome meal is cooked for the staff each day and shared by all.
The residential wing has also been spruced up with each of our ladies adding their personal touch: Gods from different faith or that ones special toy that could not be resisted. It is now home to them.
May god bless them all!
To or no to….
The recent debate of the right to privacy of a physically disabled child whose surgery was done under blinding media glare, raises a number of questions, the first one being the reason why the medical team who operated free of cost, decided to do so this way. The other question raised by an activist is far more troubling: would it have been the same if the child belonged to a rich family?
In recent times we have seen many poor children being given new leases of life following their story being aired on TV channels. We too at pwhy have been able to help many children needing costly surgeries by appealing to friends and supporters. One cannot deny the fact that people get ‘touched’ by real life stories. Thus it is easier to get help for individual cases than for wider causes. I must confess that this is something that has always disturbed me and made me uncomfortable.
It is true that we live in a world where advertisement and publicity rule the roost. Even charity is now a business. So if you want to succeed you need to play by the rules. But how does one determine the thin line that exists between what can be done and what ought not to?
The debate is endless.
We at pwhy could not have done much of what we have achieved without sharing the stories of those in need of help. The answer to the activist and her query regarding the origins of the child cannot but be yes, as it is only a poor child that would need help. In my mind what is important is the motive that underlies the need of sharing the story and above all the necessity to remain within the realm of decency. But more than that is the responsibility of ensuring the long term needs those you help.
Candid revelations
I dropped by the women centre yesterday and decided to spend some time with a bunch of spirited boys who had joined the centre recently. There were about 6 or 7 of them and most of them were students of class VI of the sole government secondary school in the area.
We started talking of many things but very soon the conversation veered to their school life. As the kids talked about their school in a bantering tone, I could not stop the rising anger that welled inside me.
We never have class as there are no teachers said one, to which the other added:We just give our attendance and then leave. The principal beats children with a stick, even small children piped another kid. Yes but the gujjars beat the teachers retorted yet another.
Hearing all these candid revelations I could not imagine that what was being talked about was a school, a place of learning where tender minds were supposed to be imparted knowledge. I was unable to process the information. I needed to know more. I sat down and asked the kids to explain what actually happened in the school.
Madanpur Khader is a gujjar village and the gujjar are known for their violent ways. Over the years many gujjar families have built tenements for the ever increasing migrant population and recently a resettlement colony has also come up in the vicinity of the village. hence the local school has a mixed population of gujjars and migrants hailing from Bengal, Bihar and other places. It seems that parents of gujjar children threaten and browbeat teachers and hence teachers hardly come to school. Teachers on the other hand victimise other kids hence the beating and wielding of sticks!
The children I met want to study and above all want to go to another school. But other schools are located miles away though the lads are willing to travel by bus however admissions are not easy.
We plan to visit the school and find out what actually happens. Maybe we will need to talk to the gujjar parents too and explain to them that what they are doing is against the interest of their own children. We of course will ensure that these boys keep up with their studies.
But once again the whole question of education comes to the fore. Laws, court orders, even constitutional rights are ineffective when one looks at the reality that stares at us. And once again innocent children are the victims.
A matter of survival
Our women centre is soon going to have solar energy to meet part of its requirements. Like everything else at pwhy is just happened. And again like everything else at pwhy it happened for a reason. Global warming is something we have been concerned about for a long time. But sadly till date the concern seemed more academic than real. Things are getting out of hand and it is time to act now.
One of the first step in this direction would be to try and teach children. But this is easily said than done and kids have no real role models. And most of the good habits we should be adopting seem so infra-dig. How can I walk when so many cars stand in my driveway or when I have just bought a gleaming new bike? Consumerism does not beget moderation. Even slums have more than one TV sets today!
And yet if nothing is done, our planet is sure to become unlivable.
Even a week before Diwali, Delhi skies are hazy and laden with pollutants. Shudder to think at what they will look like on that day. In spite of our best efforts to try and tell children and adults not to burst crackers on that day we know we will not be heard. Shops are full of new fireworks and shoppers a plenty. Everyone, even the most educated will partake in the festivities. For that spell of time, all resolutions will be forgotten.
is there a way out? One wonders. Maybe a diktat like the one issued by the Sikh clergy on ostentatious marriages? But who will bell the cat?
We continue to use and abuse our planet with hubristic abandon. One day Nature will retaliate as it often has and we will be left wondering what happened.
But it will be too late. We need to begin now.
twenty one – 21
Twenty one is an important number in a person’s life as it is the age when one becomes an adult. Twenty one has another important signification that many may not know. It is the number – 21A – of a new article that was to be inserted in the constitution of India. it reads: The State shall provide free and compulsory education to all children of the age of six to fourteen years in such manner as the State may, by law, determine and is subsequent to the 86th amendment voted in 2002 giving every India child the right to education.
5 long years have passed but the central government has not yet notified the Act or enacted the legislation. Activist have been battling the issue
A recent email from an activist group working with municipal schools brought to light many issues that we have been facing in the past 8 years. One of them was the report card issue. Primary school kids from municipal schools never got progress reports and our staff had to fight with school authorities to get results of terminal examinations. Now, thanks to a petition fled in court, issuance of progress reports has become mandatory!
This is a sad reflection of the reality that we live in. Laws exist but are never implemented be it education, child labour or other social issues. I takes a sting operation or a Public Interest Litigation filed by some activist group or NGO to get the judiciary to react and issue appropriate orders.
It seems that one of the biggest stumbling block in the way of progress and development is the non-implementation of various laws, schemes and projects aimed at benefiting the less privileged. And perhaps, it would be in everyone’s interest to ensure that existing schemes are properly enacted.
let the sun shine in
Some months back S walked into our office. S was someone I met on the net. After exchanging a few innocuous mails, S came visiting. Like is oft the case with virtual friends, one does quite know who to expect!
S arrived by bus from one of India’s satellite suburbs and was the image of simplicity as he walked into our office barefoot (having left his shoes downstairs) and no matter how hard I tried, I was not able to affix the labels one is usually able to by simple gaging a person for a few minutes. However what was obvious was S’s warmth.
Unlike many visitors, S spend the whole day at pwhy and even helped carting furniture!
S’s memory of the day was beautifully spelled out in a mail he sent to his friends:
Happiness is when what you think, what you say and what you do are in harmony. Mahatma Gandhi. A day snapshot would be immature to conclude anything but is indicative of honesty, urge and the will of the modest project WHY. Albeit the project questions us in many ways and if one is honest, there are no real answers, only solutions awaiting us to overcome our numbness. A fresh air about this project is its operational modesty and the same is in its appeal for help and support. There are endless ways that one can help the project with our good wishes, goodwill, donations. Really anything. A Rupee a Day really is hard to overlook.
In Delhi, around a bus stop there is a large neem tree. A careful look and one discovers a few different and larger leave growing on the neem tree till you realise that a banyan tree is growing out a branch joint of the neem tree. Nature’s beautiful illustration of life supporting life. Makes us wonder.
For those of us who lack time but have the willingness, projects like Why offers a great channel for us to give back to the society without having to worry about the money being spent on business class air tickets or air conditioned offices. For those who have the time along with the willingness, it would at least a few memorable hours spent with some people who are doing an incredible job.
Days passed…
I got busy with the inauguration of the women centre. Mails were sent inviting people. Only one person decided to make the long trip to Khader: S! Once again he spent time, and even talked to the children at length on environment and other issues. Before leaving he promised us CFL light bulbs and even talked of getting us solar lighting for the classes.
Today he kept his promise and our women centre will soon have solar lighting and we can in the words of the famous song in the musical hair soon sing: let the sun shine in!
yet another tale of two Indias…
Sunday October 28th 2007, saw the enfolding of a another tale of two Indias in the streets of its capital city: thousands of well shod and well clad beautiful people ran a well sponsored half marathon in one part of the city, while 25 000 landless and often barefoot protesters silently entered another part of the city to demand their usurped land rights. They had no sponsors. They had simply donated one fistful of food grain and one rupee a day for the last three years.
Their march had begun on October 2nd, 350 kilometers away a stunning reminder of Gandhian ways in a new age avatar. Dignified and silent and yet so vibrant. Most of them tribal and dalits displaced by big development projects and given no alternative source of livelihood.
Whereas the marathon ended with winners and prize money, their fight has just begun as they intend to stay on till they are heard. What disturbed me this morning as I opened the newspaper was a deafening silence: whereas the marathon was covered in large headlines and full pages, this silent and dignified march was strangely absent.
Is this not another instance of the reality of two Indias?
in order to live
Read in order to live said Gustave Flaubert. That was almost two centuries ago and something almost ludicrous in our day and age.
You may wonder why I chose to right a post about books.
It all began when sometime back a dear friend and supporter sought our help and advice on a project whereby 50K books in English needed to find homes in India ( institutions, public libraries, schools, NGOs). For someone addicted to books this was fantastic. Or so it seemed at first.
After the initial excitement and as one sat down to think of the nitty-gritty it did not take long to see that the matter was not as simple as one would have liked. After all were we not a society where books had taken a back seat and lost its battle to the ever invading world of television. Today’s children had scant place for books, barring the school ones, and reading was synonymous to boring, dreary and irksome. The sad reality was that children of today did not read books for pleasure. And if we were to talk about slum kids, then many had never seen books other than those in their school bags. So where would these 50K books lands even if they reached institutions, NGOs etc.. And who in today’s day and age went to public libraries, Come to think about I do not think there is a public library in the vicinity of where I sit!
I belong to a generation where books were oft the only source of entertainment we had. They were our friends and counselors and a garden you carry in your pocket to quote a Chinese proverb. Even today, when I have practically no time, I devour books as I travel from one place to another in the pwhy three wheeler!
Reading is a habit that needs to be revived. And to do so it is necessary to place a book in the hand of a child as early as possible. And yet the reality stares at us large as even the poorest home in a Delhi slum has a TV and cable connection. The battle is unequal but needs to be fought. Was it not Groucho Marx who said: I find television to be very educating. Every time somebody turns on the set, I go into the other room and read a book.
a happy place
A recent investigation aired on national TV brought to light the horrific reality that prevails in a government home for challenged children in India’ capital city.
One wonders why these children of a lesser God are often treated in such a way and makes us question the validity of the so called welfare programmes run by the administration. It also highlights the plight of such children in a country like India, something we have been painfully aware of, and that led us to create our special section almost 7 years ago. It also validates our commitment towards setting up planet why, a place for such children as they grow into disturbing adults.
Why is it that time and again challenged children are treated in cruel and callous ways?
For us at pwhy the special section is by far the happiest and most rewarding experience. It is a motley crew of 20 children and adults who come from different worlds but become one as they enter their little world.
Manu who you see in the picture was once begging on the streets in spite of having a family. people use to deride him and kids pelted stones at him. Today he has friends and is slowly learning to be independent.
It did not take much to achieve this. What was needed was the will to do so. At the pwhy special section children learn to read and write, to dance and play; they learn cooking, basic stitching, and have a host of other activities but above all they learn to laugh and be happy and reclaim a hijacked childhood.
You can share some of these joyful moments by clicking on the pictures below.
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the art of giving
Xabi and Marie are two simple village folk from a small village of the Basque country in France. They are not young and have homes and families. Marie is a dancer and Xabi a farmer . Some time back I got a very touching email from them which is simply said they were coming to India and wanted to spend some happy moments with our kids.
They arrived a few days back and found their way to us. It was their first visit to India and they felt that they wanted to give a little of their time, their talent and their love to less privileged children before embarking on their discovery of India.
For the past few days they have been teaching dance, and games to our special kids, and our creche children and then make the journey to Khader to spend some time at our women centre. There they play and dance with the kids and have even worked out a business deal in the spirit of fair trade: they would like to take the jewels we make as well as simple clothes that our ladies would stitch back to their village and hope to get us orders.
Xabi and Marie radiate warmth and all our children have taken to them. The reason is that in spite of language and other barriers they have opened their hearts and shared their love in abundance and in the true spirit of giving!
I am in UKG
We have been busy getting admissions for the new centre and of course children are a plenty. After asking the names and age of each kid we ask whether they are in school, and the class they are in.
We were astonished at the number of children who said: I am in UKG. Many of them are seven and even older. Now UKG is not a class in municipal and government schools. These children are in small private schools which still have up to 3 years of pre-primary classes even though the education department has reduced them to one!
To many of us an extra school year does not matter as the children get sound foundations but for little girls like the ones in the picture it is a matter of great concern. Normally these girls are withdrawn out of school by 16 as that is when they are often married. If thew were in class I or II they would have a better chance of finishing their schooling and obtaining a certificate.
A quick perusal of their books showed that what they were learning was akin to what is taught in class I or even II in municipal primary schools. The reason why private schools have more classes is evident: extra fees and the reason why poor parents send their wards to such schools is also obvious: better teaching.
Yet we feel that these bright children should get a better chance at finishing their studies so we plan to convene a parents meeting and convince them to get their children admitted to the government school in class II next March. We hope they understand.