smiles to die for
This is a sneak picture.. it was not a PTA day. Dharmendra had gone to Goyla to meet Utpal’s school principal and while he was waiting for him, he managed to get a glimpse of Popples surreptitiously.
This picture will set to rest the minds of all the die hard Mr P fans who may think he is unhappy in school. This snap was taken post lunch on the way to rest time and the huge smiles on our little gang of three say it all.
It speaks volumes for the school as it opened its doors and heart to a child that fitted no mould and enabled him to find his place. Today Utpal has been promoted to the next class. He has his set of pals and is on the way of carving out his future on his own.
Kudos to this little braveheart who has fought many odds in his tiny life.
India at 60 – the plight of children
It took a shocking story to get the Government to look into the matter of burial sites for little children in India’s capital city. Politicians ignore Nithari in the run up to the state elections in Uttar Pradesh, as the families of the dead children are simple migrants and hence do not have votes. The Ghaziabad Girls are lost in administrative and judicial quagmire. Children are beaten in schools. The drop out rates are mind boggling. Child labour is rampant. Orphanages are cramped and unsafe.
Something is terribly wrong…
We are talking about the millions of children in free India, the third or fourth generation after Independence. We are talking about children who see the day of light in a democracy that professes to give them a host of fundamental rights: from education to shelter, from freedom of speech to freedom of faith. And yet a cursory glance and the plight of many of them is enough to prove that each right has been denied, usurped or hijacked.
It is not that we have done things wrong. A passing glance at the multitude of child related programmes is sufficient to see that children have occupied a place of pride in our planning, and on paper many of the proposed projects are excellent.
Let us just talk of the ICDS (Integrated Child Development Scheme) to substantiate our point. This programme was conceived and launched in 1975. Its objectives were as follows:
- to improve the nutritional and health status of pre-school children in the age-group of 0-6 years;
- to lay the foundation of proper psychological development of the child;
- to reduce the incidence of mortality, morbidity, malnutrition and school drop-out;
- to achieve effective coordination of policy and implementation amongst the various departments to promote child development; and
- to enhance the capability of the mother to look after the normal health and nutritional needs of the child through proper nutrition and health education.
What a great programme. Had it worked all other child related programmes should have worked too! But the reality is quite different. In 2007 – 32 years after the programme was launched – an ICDS creche in India’s capital city often runs from a space the rent of which cannot exceed Rs 500! In actual terms this means a tiny airless room devoid of what is deemed essential as per the programme: running water, toilet facilities, open space for children to play.
The state of municipal schools is another reflection of the place children have in free India. After sixty years many schools in our capital still do not have proper buildings, let alone other facilities! There are some exceptions, but these are often dependent on the commitment of a handful of honest individuals.
On the other hand, politicians are busy framing reservation policies to higher institutions of learning and the ensuing debates make us wonder who these places in he sun are for. Certainly not for the potential drop out. Somehow no one seems to be bothered about the state of primary education, though poor parents are slowly seeing the writing on the wall and are now often seen sending their children to private institutions that are now mushrooming in our city and are often of poor quality. Yes in India at sixty we have the private school for the poor with names like SK convent, Mother Sundari English Medium School etc, and they come at a heavy price!
My detractors will be quick to point that it is allright to criticise but what about possible solutions. Many do come to mind but what stands out is the necessity of bridging the gap between the rich and the poor, of striking a balance, of reaching out and doig our ‘bit’! What is needed is to raise awareness. What is needed is to stop for an instant and ask oneself a simple question: where are we going? What is needed is to understand that the plight of the other India will one day affect us in more ways than one.
How can a city not have proper habitat for the poor within it? One cannot just wish them away and hope they will remain invisible. How can a city have schools that do not run, privatising them is again not a solution, they have to be strengthened and improved. The judiciary or the media should not have to intervene each time things go wrong.
Ultimately it all comes down to striking a proper balance between our rights and our duties as citizens, something we seem to have conveniently forgotten.
How many more generations of children will have to be born and become adults before we realise this!
a tale of two indias – the plight of dead children
Bachha ghat is not a play ground for children, it is the only place where children under three can set be to rest after their death. Hinduism does not allow them to be cremated as it is said that their soul is not connected to their body! This was brought to light in a disturbing and shocking news item aired yesterday on national television.
What one forgets is that what is set to rest is not a few pounds of flesh. What is set to rest is a child, nurtured and loved by its mother, held with pride by its father. What is laid to rest is a set of unfulfilled and crashed dreams, what is laid to rest is a life cut short.
I can speak with authority as I lived all my life under the shadow of a dead brother I never knew, one that lived but a few days on earth but lived in my mother’s memory till she breathed her last, a brother who was ever present in my life. I guess my parents were lucky that he was born and died in an alien land. A tombstone marks his brief passage on earth in a Prague cemetery.
I can speak with authority as only a few years ago I scurried around the city with a tiny bundle in my arms looking for a dignified place to lay it to rest. To many it was just a 7 months still born foetus, but for one young mother it was her first child. I had been summoned to Safdurjung hospital by a pwhy staff who was admitted there, as this very young mother had gone in a state of shock when she was told to hand over her child so that it could be thrown in the hospital dustbin. She had refused to let go of her baby and sat in catatonic inertia. When I reached the maternity ward I just held out my shawl and gently asked the girl to give me her child promising her a dignified send off. She did. That was the beginning of an ordeal I cannot forget.
I took my precious bundle which for me was above all a mother’s love and went to the one place I knew: the Lodhi crematorium foolishly believing that there must be an option for young children. As we alighted from the three wheeler I could see a bunch of predators (read funeral rites priest) approach us, gauging our worth and probably thinking we were an advance part to some funeral. When they knew what we had come for, they just walked away in disdain, not even listening to our plea.
I must thank our stars that no one guided us to bachha ghat. Refusing to give up as my promise had to be honoured, I stood my ground. A few minutes later an elderly man approached us and told us that we could bury the child a little further in the empty grounds that lay ahead. He did not reveal that it was the defecating place of the nearby slums. We found a place that seemed clean. No help was forthcoming from the people that had gathered around so we slowly dug a grave with our bare hands, and lay the little child to rest, wrapped in its shawl, and carefully laid stones on the grave and placed the few flowers we had brought with us.
Yesterday’s news item brought back this forgotten day.
We are a city busy building malls, and expressways; we are a city displacing the poor with impunity; we are a city busy dividing the gap between rich and poor and yet this incident shows that at least in death rich children and poor children are treated the same way.
The said TV channel held a discussion of this shocking reality and once again we witnessed the birth of a new polemic with all the necessary ingredients for endless debates for all: politicians, opposition, religious leaders, the judiciary, the newly empowered citizen groups et al..
But as the debate goes on, more children will find their way to the baccha ghat while the city will be busy for 2010 a red later day for many. Today’s world is for the living rich, not for the dead and least of all for the poor.
electoral results
The verdict is out in the municipal election. The party in power was routed, or almost as most of Delhi, or let us say the 43 odd % who went out to vote seemed to blame the party in power for all their woes ranging from the sealing drive to the lack of civic amenities.
Our municipal ward saw an interesting contest reflecting once again the maturity of the voter. The fight was between two candidates: one the person in power for two terms and the other a rebel of sorts backed financially by the one ‘who did not get the ticket’ or in terms of symbols the fight was between the hand and the engine!
The engine was carefully selected and belonged to Bihar as a vast majority of the slum dwellers – the normal hand vote bank – are from that state. An aggressive campaign ensued where every ploy in the book was used: cajoling, bribing, threatening… you name it, they did it.
Our well seasoned voters excelled themselves in paying lip service and partaking of all goodies offered but never failed to mention that Mr engine had always been against the poor, the slum dweller, the street vendor and had many a time voiced that dislike in no uncertain terms.
On the other hand they remembered Mr hand who in spite of everything was always there for them. Come election day and they excersised their right to vote with intelligence and brought Mr hand back even when most of the city did not. For them it was a municipal election and hence they wanted a person who would help them. It was not a time to back caste, creed or even a larger ideology.
Grapes went sour for Mr engine who fumed, ranted and raved. But to no avail. Many had come to me with a smug smile and shared that they hand voted for Mr hand in spite of what they had been saying, as ultimately it was their decision and their right.
creating with your spirit… planet why
For the past days I have been overwhelmed by images of Planet Why that keep surging into my mind, often unsolicited and unsought. These images are amazing in their clarity. They extend beyond the visual and stimulate every sense: I can see, hear, feel and even smell planet why and revel in it
This is an entirely new experience for me as I normally tend to be governed by a well honed Cartesian mind and need to find reasons for everything placing myself in the centre and attempting to be in control. The success graph has been mixed and always carried a heavy price. In order to do things ‘right’, I needed to allow myself to be intercepted by outside factors and often have my true desires hijacked unknowingly, while I sat thinking I was on the right course.
With Planet Why I find that things seem to have taken a 180 degree spin as I know it will happen and the usual doubts, angst and fears that normally accompany any new venture seem strangely absent. In its place there is a fervent need to share, talk and make my vision known, no matter how incredible it may seem. Even the routine voices of doubt one hears and that usually take on huge proportions are cast aside with a smile.
We all love looking for reasons for the things we do and once again we try to find those that make us look or feel good. And if one was to look at Planet Why from this angle there are many reasons that one can find, but any attempt dwarf the spirit of this place that seems more and more to come from deep within as the only plausible path to walk at this moment in time.
So allow me to give you a glimpse of Planet Why:
Planet Why will be located in the sleepy village of Goyla known for its dairy and buffaloes. A pond sits nearby the chosen location and is surrounded by shrubs and trees, and like all villages in India protected by a tiny shrine to the faceless local deity. The village does have its share of urbanisation with many new structures, but one can still find some old homesteads and the local village council. There are several government schools and many children in need of educational support and guidance.
Planet Why once again aims at working with these children as is done at Project Why , but will also reach out to the community , something that was not feasible in an urban slum. Environment projects, rainwater harvesting, health related activities, imparting new skills, adult education, empowerment of women, civic responsibility are some of the projects we intend launch.
Our vision is of simple structure around a courtyard. Whitewashed walls, brightly painted doors and windows, mud murals, greenery will give a joyful feeling to the place. On the first floor we will run a guest house with 10 rooms offering two star comfort and decorated with local craft. These rooms will be for tourists transiting Delhi and who would like to spend a day or two with children before they set out to discover India. Goyla’s proximity to the airport makes it an ideal transit point. For those who wish to see Delhi, a short ride to the metro station will be provided at regular intervals.
The ground floor will house three sections. One will have a large kitchen and a living room where guests can lounge, read or just while away time playing with the children; one side will be reserved for children where two large rooms will be converted into dorms at night for the little souls that have dropped by Project Why and who have nowhere else to go to. During the day the same rooms will be used for a host of child related activities for the neighbourhood kids. The third side will house staff quarters (mostly single moms) and all other housekeeping activities. Building material will be eco -friendly and recycled, and we will try to use as much alternative sources of energy as possible: solar panels to heat water, bio gas and green fuel.
All open space will be filled with trees, shrubs and plants of all kinds. The building activity will involve friends from all over the world as well as the local community each one leaving their own special mark.
Tourism with a meaning seems to have come to stay as many friends and supporters have expressed their desire to spend some time with children and local people before setting out to discover the country. Hence our rooms seem almost booked in advance! After cutting the costs needed to run the place, we will be left with a sizable amount that will go on to fund educational and other activities based on the model we have already run and validated for the past 7 years setting us free of the fragile situation we often found ourselves in.
The little guest house will also be a training ground for our own students who can then accede to a wider range of employment. Planet Why will also be an ideal place for short term skill learning workshops and related activities.
We invite you to join the exciting journey we have already embarked on and would love to hear your thoughts and ideas.
project stats
There was a time not so long ago, when we waited with bated breath for march 31st. That was the day results were declared in both primary and secondary municipal schools.
As mark-sheets landed on our desk and children dropped by with sweetmeats, our excitement grew till the moment we had all the results and reached the magic 100% figure.
As we had the much awaited confirmation, I remember setting out to write e-mails to all our friends and supporters – I was not a blogger then – to share that great moment. Then like always we turned a tad blasé and sunk in our comfort zones as 100% seemed the rule and not the exception.
What stood out the was whether any one had topped her or his class. Slowly even that became almost routine. A tiny sentence in a blog post market the achievement.
31 march 2007 came and went and so did the first week of April. As teachers dropped by the office we one again got confirmation of a 100% result and our handful of toppers!
It has been 7 years since we set this trend, 7 years when children have not dropped out but passed with honourable marks. The 400 school going children may seem a drop in the ocean in this city where over 100 000 children do not attend school, but what makes our achievement laudable is the fact that we have managed this result with untrained teachers drawn from the community itself. This in other words means that with a little bit of help a community can be empowered to take over their children’s education and contain the staggering drop out rates.
A quick perusal of our classrooms proves that not much is needed to run classes: a steer corner, an open space, some shade and a committed ‘teacher’ is all one needs. Our true achievement is of having elaborated and validated a model that works.
Now it is time to transfer power slowly and to taken the role on advisor, consultant, mentor..
Another statistics we looked at come April was the new school admissions. Not so much the little children who left our early education programme make their way to class I, but those who were not in school or had dropped out. It has been our effort to help such children integrate mainstream schooling in a class as close to their age as possible. This year again a large number of children will be mainstreamed and will thus enjoy their constitutional right to Education.
The above statistics are important to project why as they validate our core mission: to ensure that children integrate and remain in school. I know that some of our friends may feel we sometimes seem to be diluting our programmes, but that is not so. We have always remained true to our essential mission, it is just that our little team has become empowered enough to handle what once took most of our time, enabling us to reach out to larger issues as these too will affect the lives of the children we teach.
Electoral games
The municipal elections are over.. They were less noisy and almost poster free but candidates did make their presence felt in novel ways: loads of street ambulations that looked like marriage parties where the well garlanded candidates paraded as grooms (never mind the gray hair and pot bellies) led by a rowdy group of hired supporters and drum beats. Their eager henchmen preceded them rapidly shoving garlands in the hands of by standers asking them to do the needful as the hero of the moment crosses their way.
What was different this time was the staggering number of independent candidates with amusing election symbols: over and above the well known hand, lotus ad elephant we had an aeroplane, a cup-saucer, a candle, a house, an locomotive, a banana, a mango, a book, a broom and more. Notwithstanding the use of EVMs, the supporters shouted: put your stamp on ..
The multiplicity of candidates and the well known time laxity in our land made many parties come face to face in the tiny lanes and often lead to arguments and fist fights, in one case even gunfire!
I was happy to see that even simple people found this aggressive and bombastic electioneering an insult to their intelligence. They just played on.. knowing that they would cast their vote for who they wanted. They were the ones who were quick to tell me the not so glorious antecedents which seems to be a common factor for everyone of them.
On election day however many hopes were shattered as for those who did not have voter’s ID cards the options allowed by the Election commission once again divided India: PAN cards, driving licences or passports were ID’s that would allow you to vote, whereas ration cards were disallowed. So those living in slums and whose name appeared on the electoral rolls could not vote as they did not have the required ID proof as they often do not drive cars, pay taxes or travel outside India!
Election day saw money exchanging hands and the presence of liquor was evident in the sway of many people as the day passed..
A friend called saying that she questioned the validity of electoral promises which seem to state the obvious as were not municipalities meant to provide citizens with water, electricity and a clean environment?
There was a small feeling of satisfaction as the “none of the above” option was included. I remembered the fight it had been to excercise the “refuse to vote” option some years back.
We indeed had come a long way.
a huge moment at pwhy
Manu, a young physically and mentally challenged young man lived on the street, neglected, dirty and soiled. People would feed him but like you feed an animal. Children threw stones at him. His family abused him in all conceivable ways. No one touched him, when things became too much he would let out the most heart wrenching cries.
We knew we had to do something and after exploring all options we realised we had to give him back his dignity within his community. To do this, we had to gain the confidence of the community and that is why we opened our centre. We looked after Manu, cleaned him, found him a place to sleep and slowly began to get to know him, love him and discover his humane qualities. Slowly he learned to look after himself, to eat with a spoon and to spend time in the centre and even participated in vocational activities. And as days went by, not only we, but the very people who had shunned him began to discover Manu.
These words appeared on our website way back in 2001. I looked through the thousands of pictures that document project for a photograph of Manu’s as he was then and find none. Somehow it felt wrong to snap such despair, no one had the right to do so.
Today Manu is an integral part of our special section where he has his pals. He participates in all activities be it cooking or classroom work; he loves dancing and has reclaimed the right to assert his likes and dislikes, like any one of us.
We had come a long way but we still needed to establish his social identity and give him his civic rights. Has family of course had abandoned him, denying him even his right share after his father’s demise. Getting him one seemed an impossible catch 22 situation: to get a handicap certificate you need a ration card, to get a ration card you need a permanent address and so on.
But there was one thing we could get him: a bank account under the guardianship of our organisation. So yesterday Manu had his first ID picture taken. What a huge moment it was for all of us as he set out to get that picture taken.
In the course of the week we will open his account. Even I who have is by now a firm believer in miracles feel a little dizzy as I look back at the road Manu has travelled.
PS: unfortunately by the time we got to the bank the rules had changed and our letter did not suffice and Manu’s account could not be opened.
a peek into planet why…
This is where planet why will be one day….believe it or not this place is in Delhi!
a one of a kind birthday gift
At my advanced age one does not celebrate birthdays or expect gifts. Yet this year I decided to mark my double five by unabashedly asking for a present from my crew even using the power of being captain of the ship!
I must confess that it is part of a game plan I have had for long. When the project why journey began, I had a dream: that of seeing each member of team project why one day at the helm of their individual programmes. however each time i suggested this, i was met with a salvo of: how can we? we are not capable? etc. It was to be expected as just like the children, they too suffered from a brand of poor self esteem that was almost debilitating and made them incapable all they had achieved in the past years.
So last Saturday I reminded them that it was my birthday in a few days and that I wanted a gift from each one of them. I was amused as I took time in stating the nature of the gift and watched their eager and perplexed faces. I think no one expected what came next: for my birthday I want each one of you to write a paragraph about what you have achieved in the last 5 years that I can be proud of. i want each one of you to tell me why you should be admired..
Stunned silence followed my words and before the usual No’s would land on my ears, I added that there was no discussion and added the right dose of emotional blackmail as i said that I would be hurt if someone did not do what i said as this was the first time I had actually asked for something.
I wait with bated breath for what will land on my lap on Wednesday and will share it with everyone. For me it is a way of proving to this incredible lot that they are capable of taking my dream forward!
The debate continues…
The supreme court order staying the OBC reservation issue has leashed out a series of reactions across the land. This time I kept my pend in check waiting before adding my two penny bit.
Last summer was one of discontent as many young students took to the streets to protest: each each side having its protagonists. Students sat on hunger strike, gandhigiri made the journey from screen to street. No one really heard as the powers that be huddled together and got what they wanted or so they thought.
Institutional heads were roped in and some wishy-washy formula was evolved. Quietly petitions were filed in the highest court but the hubris was such that it would even take on the Gods!
Then came the supreme court stay order, a rude wake up call that sent everyone into a flurry. bandhs were called, protests abounded a new cause was found to defend setting the dreaded caste and social divide into motion. Passionate debates were aired on TV and strangely every voice of reason was shouted down by those with extreme positions.
As if no one wanted to find a solution. A retired Professor echoed my thoughts as I tried desperately but in vain to highlight the sad reality about the abysmal state of primary schools. His effort to steer the debate in that direction was countered by a venomous retort branding him as an enemy, validating the point that I have often made about the conscious effort of the powers that be to ensure that a large segment of the population remain illiterate and hence a vote bank easily manipulated.
As the debate carried on one realised that no one was actually interested in the plight of the little Ramus and Jyotis who may have been born in the right caste but who will remain illiterate and whose only hope will be little efforts like project why that ensure that they do not drop out of the gaping holes of the education net.
Last week I went to the Greater Kailash outlet of Cafe Coffee Day. To my utmost surprise a beaming young man in his smart red uniform came to my table and said: Ma’am don’t you recognise me, I am Shiv and was a student at project why! I was taken aback as I remembered him 5 years ago still a shy adolescent who barely spoke.
I must say he was not standing at the portals of an IIT or IIM, but somehow he had stepped on the other side of the fence on his own merit, without reservation with just a little help because someone had believed in him.
The reservation issue will never die as no one will allow it to. It is to good a cause for politicians and for what is now known as the creamy layer. For those who barely survive nothing will change; no one wants it to.
planet why – sustainability factor
Seven years ago we set out to create a model whereby underprivileged and illiterate or semi-literate parents could be empowered to steer the educational needs of their children with local resources.
The model proved doable as in the last 7 years drop out rates were contained and children passed their examinations with success. We used local talent and proved that teaching could be done anywhere and did not require structures. The only factor that remains to be proved is that of having the staff initiate funding modalities and this necessitates a phased withdrawal on our part. That is where we stand now and will soon have a model to share.
Were that to happen, then phase I of pwhy would come to a logical closure compelling us to move on to phase II. Whereas a set of precise goals steered phase I, it would be unwise to think that they same can apply to phase II.
Many factors have to be taken into consideration to launch phase II: some are beyond our control as the new habitat and town planning realities, some emanate from our past experience and some are guided by our desire to see pwhy live beyond individuals.
The idea to seed planet why in a rural outskirt answers the first concern, the need of a residential facility, albeit a tiny one, stems out of the handful of persons that have come into our lives and the resolve to address the sustainability option form day one of phase II is the logical outcome of the precarious and fragile nature of our funding ways which have been resting on individual skills and individual state of minds.
So whereas we could begin working with the children and the community of Goyla immediately and without much requirements, we have chosen not to and instead find a way to ensure a permanent source of funds from day one.
The cusco model was one we found eminently doable in the present scenario as there is a paucity of pleasant guest house facilities in Delhi and the ever increasing desire of tourists to pair voluntary work with sight seeing to get a real feel of the country makes us believe that our concept can work not only in Goyla, but elsewhere to making this model a replicable one too!
So it seems to be a win-win situation. However it will need all our friends and well wishers to once again open their hearts and help us get going!
Ever since we have started sharing this exciting idea, we have been overwhelmed by the positive response we have got. A friend from China says it all in these words:
When I read about the guest house and the new location near the airport, I just think it’s wonderful. Imagine if we can draw transit passengers from over the world to drop by the planet.. And the thought of children showing how proud they are to be of service and showcasing the planet and India, the jubilation’s beyond description
We second that!
planet why – hope and believe
When a package enclosing two healing stones marked ‘hope’ and ‘believe’ landed on my table after travelling an incredible 12 000 km all the way from Ontario, I knew something huge was about to happen in the existence of project why.
The stones were actually meant for Utpal to be in my custody till he graduated from grade and high school, but somehow for the very first time I did not feel guilty when I unabashedly asked my friend North whether i could keep them. Needless to say she agreed.
I must confess that at that time I was confused and worried about the future of project why as one was faced with the indubitable reality of a metro line looming large and heralding the relocation of the slums we work in, and the bleak future of the handful of children of a lesser God whose only hope lay in our hands.
I usually do not sink into despair but I was close to that as one also knew that some supporters were also tiring of the comfort zone we seemed to be sinking into. The sight of those two stones somehow lifted me to a new high and I found myself planning the impossible: planet why. Nothing seemed to large, or to big. It just seemed to be the obvious way to go.
In just under a week a plan had been formulated and friends sounded and the response was amazing. As I write these words a piece of land has been identified and the initial budget is being worked on and I know that planet why is on the way to becoming a reality.
It will be known as planet why – hope and believe!
seeding planet why
Many things have been happening at pwhy and some of them point towards the indubitable yet maybe invisible reality that Chapter I of pwhy is slowly coming to a close. Most of the slums we work will eventually be relocated as metro lines extend and the dream of some becomes the doom of the other.
India is all about macro and micro realities and in order to make substantial and meaningful change it becomes imperative to address both sides of the coin. What began 7 years ago as an honest effort to empower underprivileged communities to take charge of the education of their children, has met with a fair amount of success.
A viable model was mooted, and tested successfully as drop out rates were contained 100% and the model steered by local efforts. The only element that did not quite meet the set target was sustainability as till date we could not truly seed the one rupee a day programme.
This has led me to believe that maybe the way to see it seed is to actually withdraw much of the spoon feeding and slowly position ourselves as a consultant/advisory entity. Then it will be a do or die and once again if out of all the various elements that form pwhy one emerges a winner we will be satisfied. A little radical I know but nevertheless necessary.
That is the macro level.
But the past seven years has also brought the micro level into our lives be it children needing surgery, children having no future, single mothers at the fringe of giving up and children and young adults with disabilities facing a bleak future.
For these creatures of a Lesser God we need to find a larger solution particularly has we have witnessed the total lack of social and administrative support which is at best inhuman (orphanages, homes for the challenged etc)
So as we slowly hand over power in the first case, we need to create a viable option for the later. That is what brings us to Chapter II of our journey in the shape of what I would like to call simply Planet Why: a small home in a rural suburb where we we would try to give a new lease of life to these souls. Moreover this home would have three or more activities: a refuge, education and empowerment for the local community and specialised vocational training.
As land cost is prohibitive, we are looking at a long lease option and have short listed two plots.
This brings me to the invariable question that is waiting to be asked: how will planet why sustain itself?
Here is my answer: we want to seed planet why in a village called Goyla, close to the airport and to Dwarka which is already on the metro line. With the imminent completion of several flyover/highway projects the place is ideal to create a guest house like the ninos hotel set up in cusco Peru entirely run by street children.
http://www.ninoshotel.com/
We are thinking of having one part of planet why as a guest house with about 6 rooms for those who do not want to transit Delhi but just have a take off point to their holiday destination. Goyla is close to the Jaipur and Agra highways. Many friends have promised us 100% occupancy.
Pwhy has taught me that nothing is impossible and no dream too large if it’s intent is honest and for the good of those no one cares for.
No matter how empowered the present community we work in gets there are always some that still need us on a long term basis: Abhishek and Rahul’s widowed mother who is constantly ill treated by her in-laws and made to live in a room that reminds us of the torture box of the Bridge of the River Kwai as she lives in a tin box on a fifth floor; Utpal’s mother who has to one day come out into the world again, Mansi and Himanshu who saw their mother hang and their father be shot in a vendetta like operation commandeered by their maternal grandparents, Babli who in spite of her open heart surgery seems to be of no interest to her family the father being too old and a gambler and a mother to busy working or seeking greener pastures, and many of our special kids who no one really wants and last but not the least Manu for whom pwhy began.
So we begin a new journey and hope you will once again be there for us..
planet why
Life is a strange and fascinating journey. It is said that when a child is born his brain has the possibility of learning anything he is taught. After that begins a selective process that mirrors the child’s environment and hence appears the choice of language, likes and dislikes and so on. many of the choices we make are either akin to those of our caretakers, others stem from our rebellious nature and are the exact opposite of what we see.
As the journey continues new choices come by and many course corrections too, but some things remain embedded in your mind even though you do not quite know why.
Many years back when I was in high school one of my teachers gave me a present: it was a copy of the Little Prince of St Exupery. At that time it was just a book that touched me but somehow I had the intuitive feeling that it was to be much more.
Life took on many turns but somehow this book never left me and I found myself going back to it at times when I needed answers to seemingly incomprehensible problems. Exactly 4 years ago when a scalded Utpal landed into my life I caught myself thinking of him as the little Prince who landed from nowhere into a lost aviator’s existence.
For the last four years Utpal and I have made a long journey as he led me to places I would have never gone to were it not for him. With him I visited many planets just like the aviator did, some nice some not so nice. From the hell hole of the life of an alkie woman in an urban slum, to the crisp and refreshing air of a quaint boarding school, from the forbidding and cold precincts of a rehab centre to the laughter and hope filled surroundings of an a idyllic sanctuary, via toy shops with the best deals, and sinful fast food joints.
Like the Little Prince of St Exupery, I too encountered rares species: some funny, some sordid and some filled with hope and came across realities that my half a century on this planet had not prepared me for. I was faced with many challenges, some seemingly insurmountable but his little hand always held mine nudging me not to give up. And as I travelled with new eyes on uncharted courses I knew my little man was the bearer of some deep message that went beyond the realm of his life.
Over the years I had often found myself referring to project why as planet why, and then correcting myself as the raggle taggle elements that make project why could not be named a planet. Some Freudian slip or an intuitive glimpse of what still lay ahead. Any one’s guess. Yet hindsight shows that a tiny seed was being planted in one’s mind. Project why in its actual avatar was too fragile and had to take on a new body. The travels with my prince were just pointers towards the task that lay ahead: creating planet why that would come full circle.
And once again an apparently impossible picture seeded in my mind: that of a happy place where those with no hope could seek not only refuge but find meaning, where no one’s children would study just like others, where skills would be taught, where days and would filled with laughter and happiness and childhoods would be reconquered with renewed assurance watched by my smiling little prince.
So help me God!
give me five!
Miracles happen to those who believe them says a quote, but some are a little difficult to imagine let alone believe in. And yet on that long hot drive back from the grim rehab centre to my home about a year back, there was a picture that flashed in my mind as I held on to the little boy who had in one dark night lost his childhood: it was a hazy picture of a day when he would be reunited with his mom and sister in a ‘happy place’. And no matter how dim and remote it would seem at times, I never let it go!
The picture you see is not a figment of my imagination nor a piece of trick photography. It is a kodak moment. This moment happened yesterday when finally all the elements of a complex puzzle fell in place, and even the colors were right; Popples celebrated his 5th birthday with his mom and sister and best pal kiran and even maam’ji, in an idyllic place where ducks and flowers are in abundance and surrounded by a motley group of 60 kids who just like him one day lost all hope but regained it here.
The journey was long and the hurdles many but were all met with courage and dignity. An alkie mother had to be cured, a baby had to learn to live in an alien place, and a young girl had to be rescued from lurking predators all this while battling a host of so called well wishers bent upon opposing your every move. yes the odds were against us and the dice was loaded, the social profile was wrong, the foes many but somehow the happy picture remained engraved in my memory.
Yesterday once again the mr p support group set out for this special event. Armed with games and toys for his new pals and overflowing love we landed at karmmarg to celebrate a real mother and child reunion. There was laughter and song, Durga Utpal’s sister delighted us with a bolywood number, and we all sat in the shade amidst nature at his best and shared a lunch that would surpass any three star gourmet meal.
The day was picture perfect and the old maam’ji so moved that even the photographs turned out misty, but do have a look at them
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mother and child reunion
A mother’s arms are made of tenderness and children sleep soundly in them wrote victor Hugo and yesterday after on whole year Utpal must have slept soundly.
It has been a long solitary journey for utpal and his mom, but they are both survivors.
It was also the first time in that the now legendary motley crowd that goes by the name of Utpal’s parents was not there to fetch him. trusted Dharmendra bhaiyya was given the task of picking up utpal and delivering him and the little red bag to the portals of karm marg. Imagine my panic when I received a call telling me that the whole karm marg was away on a field trip and only the ducks, the dogs nd a three staff members were there. My immediate reaction was to ask that Utpal come back to me, but he knew that something special was to happen and once again acted with wisdom beyond his age as he befriended those present and told Dharmendra bhaiyya to leave.
Later a bag was delivered to my home. It contained Utpal’s school clothes, his uniform and winter wear. I just held on to each that little bit longer as I emptied the bag missing his smile and babble.
As I write these words I do not know how the mother and child reunion went. I just foolishly spent the night kicking myself for not having put a sweater his bag.
why ki tazaa khabar
why ki tazaa khabar is a new blog that saw the light of day on March 17th. The idea was mooted by the following words sent by a long time supporter: I find a major problem which is lack of information… my only problem is that I never get any information about that project. how that project is going on..how are kids in that project…did they do any progress..how is my contribution being helpful to them…how many teachers are there in the project etc etc.
Being one who has the tendency of easily slipping into comfort zones – i.e. taking for granted what goes on smoothly – this was a wake up call. I understand my friend’s concern as once upon a time I did send out regular individual emails!
But as the project grew and so did everyday challenges, individual updates became rarer as I believed – maybe wrongly – that the blogs and updates on the site were adequate information.
Having decided right from the outset that I would not waste my funders money on heavy administrative structures, and having also chosen to employ only community people who were not savvy enough to write in English, I was left with little choice. I could have sent a mail explaining this but I just sank into a comfort zone.
The wake up call that landed in my inbox jolted me into the need of finding a viable solution that would dovetail into the why spirit and give a day-to-day account of what happens at pwhy.
The way out I hit upon was a blog in roman Hindi in the words of those who were directly involved with running pwhy. So why ki tazaa khabar will be rani and shamika’s blog in their own words and will give all a different view of pwhy.
It is the first time shamirani – the name they chose – are setting out on such a venture and if you feel it is something hat needs to be encouraged please do drop a mail to
shambakshou@yahoo.co.in.
from milk vans to call centre cars
I have always been a morning person and a light sleeper. Yet for years I never woke up before 4 or 4.30 am. If I let my memory travel back I realise that often it is was the cling clang of the Delhi Milk Scheme vans that used to wake me up. Sometimes a crow or a bird preceded it by a few minutes.
Lately I have found myself waking up as early as 2 am jolted from my sleep by the sound of a speeding vehicle. We live close to a flyover and in the dead of night every sound does get amplified. True that in yore years too sometimes their were cars whizzing past, maybe on their way to the airport, or Saturday party goers getting back home but it was an occasional sound that did not get passed the deep sleep one was in. It is the everyday sounds that reach that part of your brain like the milk van or the faithful crow.
Irked by this new phenomena that was now translating itself into dark circles under the eyes and an irritable Maam’ji, I decided to try and decipher the source of this new late night occurrence. It did dawn one such night: these were the BPO or call centre staff vehicles crisscrossing our city to meet their unearthly schedules.
A lot has been said about the effects of these new working hours that need to meet different time zones and turn night into day. many young people are paying the price and as is often the case, the once lucrative and upmarket job options is now being shunned by some and is slowly reaching the lower strata of society. Today many of our ex students work in call centres as the job profile is scaled down to meet the ever exceeding demand.
Doc P, our family doctor recounted how on a trip to the US he needed to change a booking and dialled a number answered by a young lad who was desperately trying to communicate in his newly acquired American Hinglish; no matter how many times Doc tried to coax him into speaking in Hindi, the lad held on: needless to say the booking was never changed.
While travelling to pwhy everyday one sees new hoardings for BPO training institutes that guarantee perfect English in 6 weeks or so. I guess they must be lucrative as new ones appear ever so often.
I guess I wil need to invest in a good pair of earplugs!
Sapna’s mom
To me she will always be Sapna’s mom though her name is Bimla and she is also Monty’s mom. She came to us almost 4 years ago carrying Sapna who was 5 but could not even hold her head, let alone stand. She used to drop by sometimes dragging her feet and looking far beyond her twenty something.
Slowly her story unfolded and we were shocked to learn that a still born child has resulted in a prolapsed uterus, the reason for her awkward gait. I first wrote about he almost exactly three years ago as she lay in hospital where she had initially gone to get her uterus removed but landed up in having to get a heart valve replaced. The uterus lay forgotten.. though visible!
Today three years later she again lies in a hospital this time finally free of her agony and shame. her story could have been shared many times as so much happened in the intervening years, but somehow I felt that the moment was not the right as for her closure only came today.
Bimla is 28 though she looks 128. Married to a man that not only does not care for her but is also often jobless, she bore with the resilience of Indian women a fate no one can envy: a retarded first born that was seen as a curse, a second child that was often ill, a mother in law that despised her but on whom she was dependent, nothing looked right for this woman. More was to come as her husband was diagnosed with a congenital heart problem. So the surgery she needed was delayed as she had to replace him as a dishwasher in a small eatery…
In the meantime however Sapna started walking and saying a few words and Monty got better and became a regular at pwhy! Bimla can infuriate even the most tolerant person as she often does not react to things but simply accepts her fate; I guess it is her way of dealing with what she knows she cannot change. I guess she has perfected the art of living one day at a time, and does not or rather cannot allow herself the luxury to look at the future.
Last week she came by and a look at her swollen face and body shook us out of the torpor she had manged to instill in us: we decided to get her hysterectomy done come what may as were anything to happen to her her innocent kids lives would be shattered. Luckily Sabrina and Chris were kind enough to help us.
Needless to say that it was not easy to get her husband to come and sign the consent forms but we managed though once again no one fromm her family stayed with her, it was little Deepak’s grandmother who offered to be there, another pwhy miracle.
For us it was just the question of saving Sapna’s mom, as little Sapna is considered a burden for all and only has her mom on her side.