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I love the interplay of lights in this picture.. it reminds me of India and its surprising ways.. whne you think that all around you is dark, a glimmer of light appears from nowhere and brings back the hope you had almost given up on..

last week delhi was stunned by the verdict in the jessica lal case. the assassins of a young middle class woman who had been shot dead in front of over 100 people , were set free by a court of law.. simply because they were connected.. a mockery of the legal system… and delhi reacted, maybe because j. lal was one of them.. press articles, TV programmes and even support campaigns got underway as the picture of this beautiful woman was flashed with inescapable regularity.. yet there was an imperceptible feeling of resignation epitomised by the young woman’s sister who was not even willing to carry on the fight.. and it did not seem likely that the prosecution would file an appeal..

but like a bolt out of the blue, this afternoon delhi heard that the high court had taken su motto notice and directed the police and investigative agencies to report on the case in four weeks.. it was a matter of prestige for the legal system that had to be addressed.

a proud moment for the invisible citizen as each one of us felt that tiny bit safer. now the ball is in our court and we the citizens have to see that the polemic does not die and that the case is reopened so that jessica’s killers are brought to justice..

babli and nandini.. both innmates of our heartFix hotel.. and believe it or not, they are both 9.. one grew up in the slums of delhi, the other in a village in bihar..

they were both born with the same congenital heart defect.. babli as you know had heart surgery and is now busy making up for all the lost school years and getting ready to appear for a class III entrance exam; nandini is already in class V in a ‘private’ school in Sipaul and dreams of being a doctor..

what strikes one who looks at them is the different in size.. the little village girl is in spite of her breathing difficulties, as tall as any 9 year old, whereas little babli who grew up in a dingy airless hovel looks five at most.. says a lot about growing up in a healthy, albeit poor, environment and staying away from the fast food and urban goodies…

what si even more amazing is the fact that nandini may not even need surgery as the doctors envisage trying out a softer option.. we will know next week what they do decide..

time has come to try and tell people that cities like delhi with no proper housing, lack of fresh air, poor diet and bad quality schooling is no more the big apple… and maybe one should start looking at creating new employment options in the smaller cities.. a reverse migration has to be the call of the day..

but who bells the cat…

I often find myself saying that one of our main flaws is to magnify the bad and overlook the good things. This is true in our everyday life. Thus we remember the day someone forgot to salt the food but forget all the other days when the food was right; we blame the administration for its failures but never highlight its achievements.. the list is endless…

I find myself often saying this to pwhy kids and staff and it is something I believe in.. so imagine my dismay when I realised that sometimes one forgets to practice what one ‘preaches’.

I got a mail today from R who asked me to share something about the okhla primary section. While answering the mail I thought of including links to blogs about the centre and was shocked to find only one!

Blogging is my way of sharing many of the problems and issues encountered and what I realised was that the okhla centre was like the good child, the one that does what is expected almost to perfection, and often becomes invisible.. while one is busy talking about the problem child.

So mea culpa and need to redress matters and talk about this child of ours, one that epitomises the very essence of our mission.

Okhla came into being almost 18 months ago when we were looking to expand our primary outreach. It is the brainchild of two great women: Sophiya and Pushpa who set out finding a location, wooing the local politicos and cops and cleaning up a garbage dump replete with pigs and dirt. A plastic sheet resting on 4 bamboo poles was erected by these two ladies and they begun teaching scores of children.. Their initial days were tough as they came up against a local mafia group who had been using these children to steal of the railway wagons or even push drugs.. often on week ends the rickety structure was pulled down, but nothing could deter the indomitable spirit of these two ladies..

They slowly met all the authorities concerned and in a few months made a semi-permanent structure and wore down all their opponents by their patient ways. What is amazing about these two is that they never complain or share their problems, but find solutions and ways out. Today the little centre is vibrant and active and over 150 children come their and learn.

Our ladies even organised a function for Republic Day, where the local municipal councillor and Station House Officer were chief guests. It is only today when I was ruddely shaken out of my complacency, that I realised how much they had achieved and more than that how well they had understood the true vision of pwhy, one of little primary outreach centres wherever there are children in need..

I realise today that we not only overlook the good things, but overlook things that go our way and take them for granted whereas they are the ones that need to be lauded. And the okhla primary centre and their ladies are to be admired and praised for the excellent work they are doing.

It is a matter of pride for me and a vindication of the vision I have for pwhy!

In a time when the city is ablaze with demolition and talk about illegal buildings and slum clusters, when courts have ordered no further ‘regularisation,a board was erected in front of a slum community centre next to pwhy and inaugurated by all the local politicos.. it heralds the construction of the first floor of the slum wing community centre.

The slums of gNagar are encroachments on public land.. they are tucked between buildings on the roadside and government buildings, and hence ‘illegal’ even if some are over 25 years old. The slum wing of the MCD is for slum dwellers and any construction by them is meant for slum people’s benefit.

So when the MCD slum wing decides to spent public money to construct an additional floor on an existing community centre what message does it send to simple slum people: that is well on in the said area.. and they are somewhat safe!

By the way let us not forget that municipal elections are not faraway, that there is only a short time left to ‘please’ friends hand out contracts, so maybe that is the name of the game. On the one hand secure your illiterate vote bank by sending a confused message, and and on the other get a last chance to please friends.

It is almost frightening to see such act of blatant disregard to laws and rules in broad daylight… dwhat is even more scarry is that some loophole or small print will be found to justify all this. This is when citizens have to act…

Note: The comunity cenre in question was erected in a children’s park and handed over to a organisation that works with children from other areas and social background. The building is never used for the slum community for which it was made.

Funny how the ‘poor’ emulate the ‘rich’ in everything.. so this morning S our creche worker who is a little simple minded carried a bunch of cellophane wrapped roses.. she entered the office and and mumbled ‘happy bababaa day” and handed her roses to all present.. someone must have tried to correct her so later in the day the last rose was given with a cheery ‘happy banasday’.

Many laughed at this simple soul, without malice of course.

For a long time I sat and pondered over the whole issue of Vday…something that had begun in 200 AD with a poor convicted man’s last missive to his love and that has mutated into a commercial bizMess and fuel for moral policing.. and somehow in all this is the vDay of urban slums where flowers are given to friends and colleagues in a desperately touching effort to be modern and in tune with times.. and accepted.

In my previous post I wrote about meals in loos.. there were some comments on this post and one that disturbed me. It said:

…to me its quite OK ,i am sure there are many more schools in India which dont get anything to eat, let alone the ones stored in toilets…

Yes I agree there are things much worse but does that make it OK..

The same person also wonders why one has not done something, made a noise, gone to court, to the media.. my answer may surprise many but here it is for whatever it is worth..

I think that all of us know that making a noise does not do much good… the noise lasts till a louder one silences it… and then what do you make the noise about.. it is not a matter of meals in loos, it is the larger issue of government assuming the responsibility of giving education to children as per the 92nd amendment of the constitution..

It takes two to tango, so only when the other side of the spectrum is empowered to demand for its rights will things change.. it is a long and silent road, but is one that will reach its destination..

Today government schools are feudal and the teachers lord over his fief made of illiterate parents and vulnerable kids, where sticks and insults are the weapons used to silence anyone that dares say anything..

In the past years we have taken on many issues but often found that the making a noise has often had adverse effect. Some time back, we tried to tackle corporal punishment in schools by brandishing cour orders and seeking media support.. it did make front pages but what ensued was the targetting of all pwhy students by teh school authorities..

It takes two to tango and change can only come when the end users are able to stand for their rights.. armed with all the knowledge that have been kept away from them and the tools that they can have access to be it the Right to Information Act or the simple ability to read. So my answer is yes, we are doing something.. our way!

Many may have seen the evening news programme that showed a municipal school in Delhi where midday meals were stored in toilets and even classes were held in bathrooms.. a shocking revelation for sure.. but as I looked at the pictures of this resettlement colony school on the outskirts of delhi, I saw much more..

What some may have not noticed was the number of eager students, their eyes shining, a touching proof of their desire to be there.. in this temple of learning where their eyes did not see what was missing: they had a school and that was what mattered..

Slums get relocated to areas where there areno schools or school such as this one. Many of these children must have attended a school somewhere in Delhi where their homes was earlier.. on paper the authorities will show that the restelement colony has all amenities and necessities..never mind if the school is too small, does not have teachers, drinking water or electricity.. there is a school and the paper work is complete.

The children in this picture come to us in the morning after a cup of tea and maybe a bad quality rusk.. they carry no tiffin boxes and will go to their municipal school at 12.30pm where they will eat their midday meal: often a small bowl of rice or two poories. That will be the only sustainance they have till they reach back home around 6pm. Many may not know it but for many children the midday meal is not an addition to a normal diet but simply replaces one meal. The government was right when they said that the midday meal would incite children to attend school but what one sees is a something else.. I was told that in Bihar a district official had decided to hand out dry rations as an incentive. Often the collected rations of siblings provide the family with a decent meal.. maybe a better option that one should look at..

What makes one sad and angry is that where children are concerned every thing offered is short of.. something.. why can we not go all the way and provide the children a school with all amenities, many guaranteed by the Constitution..

In the same news bulletin there was an item about the enormous amounts of MPs unused funds, funds that should have gone to build infratructure.. and when funds are used as we have seen in our own area, they are used to make a skating rink where no one skates, while schools are without toilets..

This is a time where people like us should ask questions and see that the gap between laws and implementation is bridged: be it the court order on medical care or the constitutional right to basic education..

It was heart wrenching but also heart warming to see a little girl say in the very programme that depicted the sad state of her school how she enjoyed coming to learn her alphabet and her tables.. for that is why she came to school..

The children of India are the best you can have, we do not have the right to let them down.. and if we do we must be prepared for consequences and ready with answers..

Last week bulldozers raised MG 1 or the mecca of the fashion industry in India’s capital city and our page 3 went up in arms.. TV programmes, newspaper articles, impassioned debates abounded.. even divine intervention was sought as pujas and yagnas were held…

Let me take you back to a couple of months when tens of thousands of homes were reduced to nought on the banks of the Yamuna.. and families and belongings carted on trucks and sent to barren land almost 50 kilometers away..

In the first case it is true that there has been great visible loss of property and immense erosion of pride but in the later case the loss was far far greater, albeit invisible: it was the anhilation of dreams and hope: many children could not sit for their Boards, families lost their livelihood let alone their shelter…

Let us be realistic what applies to Peter must to Paul.. and the culprits are the same: vested interests, vote banks, corrupt individuals – the list is endless.. and as was evident in a high rated talk show, the solutions seem few and hazy..

But one has to realise that whatever solutions come they have to be applicable to both ends of the spectrum. One must not forget that the high profile designer and the slum dweller are protected by the same constitutional rights and both have roles to play in the life of the city. If one stopped to think for a second one would realise that many of those who made MG 1 exist and thrive are probably people who live in slums under the threat of bulldozers…

Every city has to have a housing policy for the poor within the city; we are talking of the press lady, or the ones that come and help you in your home.. it is simple people who are an integral part of our every day lives… So let us hope that out of the high profile destruction will emerge solutions that will benefit all.. and that for once vested interest will think beyond the next election and the quick buck..

Note:

Three years ago, on xmas eve, we faced bulldozers that brought down a simple tent we had erected in what was orginally a MCD slum wing children’s park but had gradually eroded into a pig’s park filled with garbage and excrement.. that was the space MCD officials had given us to teach in.. thinking we would run away.. but we had painstakingly cleaned the park, and planted trees and erected a happy yellow tent where over 300 kids studied.. I am not reviving this incident to settle scores, but simply to tell one how shattered one feels when bulldozers destroy something you have built with hope..

It’s back.. the smile that kept us going through many ordeals…it’s back after five weeks in hospital wards, and operation theatres and more such places, and even if nanhe is a little tired and a little thinner, the smile is beaming and larger than ever..

You guessed right, nanhe is back in his tiny home, not larger than a dining table but huge when it comes to happy thoughts and positive energies.. True he still needs an operation but that is later..

The few minutes we spent with him and his radiant family were some of the most beautiful ones I have known for long.. Nanhe just hugged me and nodded his head at everything I said; he just had one request: to come back to pwhy! So he will, from Monday onwards..

I sat and watched, through blurred eyes, this brave little family: the mother who never gave up and patiently and tenderly tended to her frail cherub.. Mamta the 16 year old sister who held the fort while mama was away and even ran the vegetable cart.. the bewildered granny who had come from the village to help her brave widowed daughter… what a bautiful picture they made cluttered in the room where there was no place to breathe..

How blessed we were to be with them.. and I am sure Chauncey Olcott & George Graff, Jr. will forgive me if I substitute a few words and share with you their famous song: when Irish eyes are smiling:

You would all agree that terminal examinations are meant to assess performance and help improve the same. You will also agree that an exam has no relevance if marks are not given to the student… well not so in our city….

In December all municipal schools held terminal exams but the children were not given their marks..we needed the marks was to prepare the children for the end of year examinations which are round the corner.. we asked pwhy kids to request the teachers to give them their results.. we were horrified by what ensued..

The children were not given the marks. Two of them were even slapped for having dared ask!

Our staff did a round of the municipal schools our kids attend and except for one girl’s school which extended full cooperation, all others refused.. it was almost as we were asking for state scerets..

The worst experience was in the boys school where Jitendra and Hemraj, the two boys who were slapped study. This temple of learning seems to be set in the dark ages and the teachers out of a sombre dickensian novel. Chaos reigns amidts aggresive behavior and total apathy.. Our little team was treated with contempt and absence of courtesy.. what infuriated them was that no one seemed to comprehend why one was asking for marks.. Jitendra, a good student, was dismissed as a worthless one, defying all principles of basic child psychology…

The school was filthy and as teachers chatted in a group, children were busy fighting and using bad language.. the whole atmosphere was one of belligerence..

A perfect place to learn bad language, aggressive behavior and bad ways.. so why wonder when children from slums turn out the way they are..

The most important element in the adventure call learning is the teacher.. this is something that our law makers and leaders should understand..

When you think nothing can touch or move you, that your heart is safe and well guarded, beware: someone may have other plans for you. It happened to me this morning. This is how:

What made me decide to go fetch K and mr P, I do not know.. what made me say ‘yes’ to their desire to stop by a children’s park, I cannot say.. nevertheless I found myself in the GK II Park and that is when Chottey Lal came into my life..

Many of you have seen the khilona wallah, our very own toy vendor who ambulates in residential areas selling a medley of plastic toys.. or at least heard the strident whistle that often jars a lazy afternoon.. and most of our kids have, in spite of all the Mattels in the house, egged you on to buy the plastic wonders.. well as we got off our radheyMobile, a khilone wallah pased by and my bacchas wanted one.. I looked up and saw and old man and thought I would make his day by purchasing toys for 100 rs. As the kids were chosing want they wanted, I hear a rasping sound and discovered it was the old man who could barely breathe..

I helped him steady his toypole and would have fallen had Radhey not steadied me… the pole weighed a good 50 kilos far more than the frail man who lugged it.. what would make a man do this..

As Chottey Lal shared his story, I could not stop the tears from falling.. Chottey Lal was born in Lahore, his father was a kotwal. The family moved to Aligarh.. he reminisces coming delhi at 15 when the angrez left and worked for 15 years in Teen Murti House, in the times of Panditji.. I listen to him but my mind kept wondering what would make a man like him cart a 50 kilo burden walking miles to eek a few rupees..

My heart went out to him as I saw his wrinkle ridden face, emanciated body covered in layers of non-descript clothing, a whistle hanging on his chest.. we sat over a cup of tea as he shared his life: his son had job but not enough to feed the little family and he did what he felt he should.. for his grandchildren and others. He made 40 rupees on a good day, enough to meet the evening meal… I sensed his whole being straighten up when he rasped that he had never asked for help.. and I did believe him.. honesty oozed out of every pore.. I asked him how I could help, and his answer made my world stop: “just ask the gurdwara to allow me to stand there and sell my wares; a few days back they shunted me away and hit me”. He rolled up his trousers and showed me the barely healed wound.. I asked him if he has eaten and whether he carried any food. Chottey Lal proudly fished out a tiny packet of biscuits and a shrivelled orange.

We sat down to share a cup of tea and some bread.. By this time I knew that this morning my good friend the god of lesser beings had probably decided that Chottey lal’s days of carrying his burden were over. I had to find a way for him to retain his dignity and get his 40 rs a day!

We took Chottey lal home and met the family.. his son who earns 1500 rs a month as a courier boy – half the minimum wage – told us that his father would not listen to them. Everyone was extremely concerned but I smiled as I understood the stubborn little big man.. we agreed that he would sell his toys comfortably seated close to his home, and that he would get his 40rs a day for coming once a week and telling stories of the past to pwhy kids. Stories so precious and now so rare..

Chottey Lal is the best you can find in India, a man that should be an example to all those who want to live life the easy way..

I salute this larger than life toyMan

Note: I may start a new blog with chottey lal’s stories

There is another smile that lit planet why for the past 6 months, a smile that conveyed warmth, compassion and befitted the spirit of pwhy!

Sophie came to us last summer and immediately became one of us.. so much so that we almost took her for granted.. not only did she reach out to the children and brought them wondrous experiences, but she was there whenever we needed her. Her numerous skills helped us in so many ways: she was our lenswoman, our chief decorator, our graphic artist and much more..

When Babli was to be operated, Sophie and her friend Gary were by her side and made a complex heart surgery seem easy and simple..

To me, she was the one I reached out to in moments of doubt and angst.. and she gently steered me back on course.. and gave my sometimes flinching courage the fillip it needed..

We got used to that smile and somehow made it ours, and when she flies out next week, that smile will be in our custody till she returns…

all of us at project why will miss Sopi Didi

For 28 days nanhe has kept his smile going.. through pain, humiliating investigations and now invasive surgery which has wreaked his exhausted body.. with tubes and drains hanging and the discomfort of bedsores, nanhe still smiles on..

True his smile is a little slower to light his pain ridden face, but it does each time anyone he cares for walks into the room.. telling us to hold on and not give.. as we are not home yet.. another major surgery to deal with his kidneys await and only then will he be able to come back to us..

It is amazing how much a smile can convey.. nanhe’ smile reveals the spirit of this brave child and holds many silent lessons.. it is for us to heed them..

Kim smiling valiant child, we need you more than you can imagine