Today is Shivratri. Millions of devotees will pour millions of gallons of milk on Shiv Lingas across the country. I have always found the ritual of pouring milk over stone deities deplorable particularly in a land where millions go to bed hungry every night and thousands of children die of malnutrition every day. 5013 to be exact. This is no exaggeration, it is the sad reality substantiated by cold and harsh statistics. Nothing to be proud of. And the milk devotees will pour today will find its way to a gutter.

A Facebook messages urges us to offer only a tablespoon of milk on the Shiv ling. In India 1000’s of children die of malnutrition, donate the milk to children and gain blessing from their families. I could not agree more. I am a Hindu and proud of being one, but I also feel that my religion gives me the flexibility of interpreting rituals with sagacity and keeping in mind the reality I live in. So if I am asked to offer milk on this blessed day then it could be a teaspoon or even a drop or why not just touch the packet to the deity and then give it to one of the innumerable children that crowd the lanes of temples. I am sure God will approve and send the sought blessing.

My mind goes back to the teachings of Ramaksrishna so lovingly taught to me by my father. Ramakrishna coined the term  daridra-narayana, God in the form of the poor, and asked us to serve Him: ‘Where should you go to seek God—are not all the poor, the miserable, the weak, Gods? Why not worship them first?’ And what better way then by giving the milk we earmarked for a stone deity to the first hungry child we come across.

It is time our rituals got revisited. The situation in our country is alarming: 42% of all the underweight children in the world live in India. 5000 children die every day due to preventable diseases and about 47% of adolescent girls in India are undernourished. Keeping this in mind waste of food of any kind is unacceptable be it the honey and milk of our religious rituals, the waste at weddings and other celebrations or the grains rotting in the open. True we can blame the government for not having sufficient silos or for not implementing pertinent legislation but the buck does not stop there. We as a nation are also responsible and must do our bit. Perhaps we could start today by donating the milk pledged to lord Shiva to hungry children who are the true image of God.

This picture was sent to me this morning. Look at it well. The picture was taken in a Government run school in, hold your breath: Delhi! You may recall the fact many schools are bereft of desks. This school is not. But the desks provided to the little ones are too big so the poor dears have to study standing!

This is yet another aberration doled out by our  rulers. One wonders why they always get it so wrong. It is a known fact that many state run schools are in an abysmal condition. The only asset they have is a piece of prime property. I guess someone did get it right once upon a time. But then it all fell apart. Instead of enabling buildings many schools are still run in ramshackle tents that barely protect the children from the vagaries of the weather. Then if building there is then these are often poorly maintained. The loos have no doors. The classrooms have no bulbs and so on. Then comes the furniture. Many schools have children sitting and learning on the floor.

One hoped that if furniture was provided it would be at the least fit to be used. Alas the picture above shows you the sad reality: desks that are far too high for small children and with such desks who needs chairs. The kids can learn standing. While I can still see the logic of children sitting in the floor and learning- we do that at project why- I can not begin to comprehend how anybody can think of children learning while standing at their desk. One would have thought that had the desk been wrongly made, the school authorities would reject them rather than put them to use as we see in the snapshot. I presume a carpenter could have solved the issue for a few rupees.

Such an absurd situation makes one see red I agree but also raises many questions. Do those in authority not care about the education of poor children as seems evident? Poor children have no voice and neither do their parents. Try doing this in an upmarket school and see what happens. Is the Right to Education only for a chosen few? Seems so as no one cares about the condition of state run schools, particularly those in the poorer areas of the city. Schools should be centres of excellence where a child can learn and grow and carve her/his future. With such desks it almost seems as if someone is playing a cruel joke on innocent souls.

Strange but gender bias has hit me hard. Perhaps it was because of a recent invitation urging women to ‘look pretty‘. I must confess it did bring the point home. I was in combat mode. The anger had barely subsided when another aberration was heard on the news. Women demand mobile phones, they are not demanding toilets stated our esteemed Environment Minister. Now what does that mean, I guess only a man can enlighten me. Needless to say the women activists are up in arms. The polemic will be fun to watch! I will just say that I cannot see what phones and toilets have in common. Beats me.

However gender bias raised its ugly head in another way altogether. I was asked by a funder to provide details about the number of children we had at project why. I asked my staff to give me the latest figures and was astonished to see that at the women centre the number of boys in the primary sections had fallen. This was very surprising and led me to ask the coordinator why this happened. The answer was most astonishing. It seemed that parents were enrolling their sons in private schools. These ran in the morning and hence the boys had stopped coming to the project. The schools in question were what I call teaching shops that have mushroomed all over the city, particularly in less privileged areas. They run in small buildings but boast grandiose names like ‘Rose Valley’, ‘English Academy’, ‘Sundar Public school’, ‘SK Convent’ etc, each stating that they are ‘English medium public school’. My forays into some of the them revealed that English was barely spoken by principal and staff. The fees in these schools range from 300 to 500 a month. The parents who are eager to send their sons to such schools are reluctant to send their daughters to the English stream of government schools for reasons better known to them.

Public school is the name private schools go by in India. The lure of these public schools was first brought to light by Kiran in the most candid way possible when she asked me whether my daughter had been to one! Kiran now studies in a swank public school. Her admission was nothing short of a nightmare.  Kiran is also the one who told me last week that there were only 10 girls in her class though the number of boys was 35. In her matter of fact way she added: parents send their boys to better schools. Yes you are right darling child this is a sad reality that cuts across society. Boys get a better deal. Girls have to fight every step of the way. Time we did something!

My mind went on overdrive. How could anyone write such a thing? In spite of women having conquered every field imaginable with success, what mattered was whether they were pretty or not. And what does pretty mean: well dressed, well groomed, well proportioned? I do not know and do not care because my canons of beauty are quite different. But I am digressing. Let us come back to the main issue: gender insensitivity.

Gender bias is rampant in our society; why else would we mourn the birth of a daughter and celebrate that of a son. I can never forget how the film Matrubhoomi was shunned by one and all and what disturbing questions it raised. When I did manage to see it I felt physically sick just as I had after viewing Leaving Las Vegas. You and I may not realise it but being a girl is a curse in large parts of our society. A girl is unwanted in the very land she is worshiped in. We even fall so low as to kill her in the womb if we can. Statistics are proof of this. And if she is allowed to live, she is never made to forget that she is only a girl. We see this every day in our work. Girls are not fed the same as their male siblings, their schools fees are not paid, they are never send for tuition and as soon as they are old enough, their childhood is hijacked and they become mother’s little helpers. When they grow they are married to someone and their role widened: cook, clean but also produce children and preferably a boy. I still cannot understand why family planning programmes do not include awareness on gender determination which is the sole prerogative of the man. How many women are abused for not giving birth to a son! It is time the equations were set right but how is the question. We are trying to do this every day but it is not easy task as we need to deal with deeply seated mindsets.

One would have thought that things were different across the fence. But the words on the invite proved me wrong. In high society too women have their role defined: in the present occurrence to be pretty. True money has freed us from the cooking and cleaning roles. In lieu we have been given a new avatar that of looking good. How many girls suffer for not meeting the standards. The growth of the slimming industry is proof of that. The new credo is cosmetic surgery and Botox mornings that have surreptitiously replaced the Tupperware ones. The look pretty industry is on the rise.

I am not one of the burn the bra brigade. I like my femininity and am proud of it. To be a woman is a wonderful journey I would never trade. Yet I am a person first with hear and brains and would like to be respected for that. I guess I speak for many.

Valentine Day has never meant much to me. I have not been one to be swayed by hearts and red roses. I have fond memories of making cards for my father as a little girl but that is where it ended.  The rank commercialisation of the event has led me to shun it and to me 14 February is simply another day. Quite frankly I had even forgotten today was St Vs! On the other hand though I do not quite understand the hype attached to the day, I feel indulgent towards the young ones who celebrate it and let us not forget the flower vendors who make a killing. Celebrating love can do no harm.

As usual I came to my office in the wee hours of the morning and switched my computer. A quick check of my inbox and then a browse on FB. There was a comment addressed to me that read:  reading your book. was an absolute delight. Thank you so much for penning it and teaching me so much as I read through the letters. I was pleasantly surprised as it had been some time any one had mentioned Dear Popples let alone write about it. I clicked on the link provided and stumbled upon a write up entitled: coffee, a book and some love. I read on and was overwhelmed to see a review of Dear Popples the book I had written a couple of years back. It was a perfect Valentine treat as Dear P is a love story written with abundant love. Revisiting it made my day special.

The author of the article has summed up better than I could ever do the essence of  this book: Dear Popples is a favorite evening ritual, reading, re-reading and understanding. It helps me imagine a future for love, selflessness and happiness. It shows me the importance of being human, and understanding that every child is a miracle born with dreams. It awakens me to the beauty of growing up, and guides you with a motherly compassion: an ageless whisper urging you to make a difference, to bring a smile, to join hands. Thank you Lakshmi.

I browsed the thousands of images of Popples I have and selected this one. I must admit this heart sways me.

If you wish to read dear Popples you can order it here. And should you read it and enjoy it do let me know.

We heard some terrible news. Meher’s father is on his death bed. Too many years of drinking hooch have had their toll on him. He is in his village and everyone has given up hope. He wants to see Meher one last time and in a few hours Meher will make the journey to bid farewell to her dad. I cannot begin to imagine what she will go through. Children have their won way of dealing with tragedy and pain. She has had more than her share.

My mind leaps back to the moment she came into my life almost four years ago. On that fateful day she walked into my heart. There was no looking back. A road map was made for her: plastic surgery to give her back her hands and then a sound education to ensure that in spite of her scars she can craft her destiny. I knew that once again it was the God of Lesser beings at work as everything fell in place. A set of protagonists appeared on cue and Meher took her first steps in a new life, far removed from the dark hole in which she lived and the garbage dumps she searched for food. Post surgery it was time for school and that day too dawned. Meher has now been studying in a boarding school for the past two years and will be promoted to class II in April.

Meher kept her side of the deal to a T. She bore all the pain of her complex surgeries that lasted over a year like a champ. Then she took to her school like a fish to water walking in every heart that came her way and bringing back exceptional report cards. We were on cloud nine. Till yesterday when the news of her father’s condition was broken to us.

As I write these words someone has left to fetch her from school and in a few hours she will board a train that will take her to her father’s death bed. My heart goes out to her. I know she will need all our love and compassion when she gets back. Till then all I can beseech you all to do is say a little prayer for her.

Little Falak is still battling for her life, her battered body stubbornly fighting infections and fevers. She is holding on as the sinister series of events that brought her to this scary hospital bed enfolds. She is holding on as best she can so that we hear the silent and desperate cries of little girls like her. She was born in the deadliest place in the world for a girl child. I do not say that; the mighty and credible UN does. When the Fates wrote her destiny they must have conspired to alter it a little. It was time said the Parcae to give a voice to the suffering little girls of India. Falak’s life was to be a mission. Is she an Angel of God.

In all likelihood she was battered by her present minder. In her case a 14 year old whose life seems to nothing short of a horror tale. When we first heard baby Falak’s story everyone wanted the person who had committed such atrocities punished in the worst way imaginable. I would like you to hold your verdict and hear her story. She was first abused physically by the one who should have loved her, cared for her, helped her take her first step, hugged her when she scraped her knee, made her feel safe and secure: her dad. But he did not. He was in jail for murder and when he did come out on bail all he did was beat her mercilessly with belts and sticks. Her mom who could have tended to her incomprehensible pain was also abused and one day just gave up and died. The young girl was now left to the mercy of her first tormentor who  threw her into the den of sexual predators. She was sexually abused cruelly time and again. The so called boy friend was nothing but her pimp. One day he brought a toddler home and asked this physically, mentally, emotionally abused girl to look after her and vanished without giving her any money.

The young girl must have tried to do her best till the day the child became a handful like all 2 years old. She apparently fell and howled the whole night. It was too much for the young teenager.  For a brief moment she snapped. Memories of belts and sticks on her raw skin, memories of unspeakable pain as her still nubile body was ravaged by wolfish predators flooded her mind as she found herself in a yet unknown position of power. For the first time she held the stick. A rage that must have laid dormant for too many years gushed out. Sanity vanished as she hurt the child without mercy doing for the first time what others had done to her for too long. Before she could take hold of herself the harm was done: Falak was broken beyond repair. I wonder how the girl must have felt when she regained her senses. Let us not forget that she was the one who brought her to the hospital. The question I ask is: do you still feel she should hang?

I don’t. The ones that should hang are her father, the so called boy friend, the women who led her to her to the flesh trade, the men who used and abused her, and above all the society that lets this happen over and over again and remains mute, unconcerned.

I had thought of ending this post but before I could do so more news came in. The horror continues relentless, never ending. The search for Falak’s biological mother far from bringing some healing has unearthed another tale of abuse. Falak’s mom is herself a victim. Forced into prostitution by the one she married, sold to another, her children taken away. The whole sordid tale seems to be a terrifying mix of flesh trade and child trafficking.The mother wants to see her child but this will be only after a DNA test. Maybe little Falak is holding on just for that moment. Last heard: her sister has been traced but no one knows where her brother is. One can only hope he is safe.

Falak made headlines a few  days ago. But today she is only a news item. This is so reflective of the society we have become. True the human bites and battered body were sensational enough to ‘hog’ headlines for a short span of time. Now if there are more sensational inputs we will hear them too. But what about the real issues? Will they ever be addressed? I was horrified when a police officer in a press briefing refused to qualify Falak’s story as proof of child and women trafficking. She was quite content to term it an isolated incident where ‘everyone knew everyone’ whatever that means! My mind goes back to the Ghaziabad girls and their abuser. Though the sting operation that unearthed their tale went on to receive recognition and accolades, the plight of the girls remains unknown. I wonder what happened to their saintly abuser who is apparently on bail. Everyone lost interest. It just became yesterday’s news. Will Falak also become yesterday’s news.

All this makes me terribly sad. I had hoped, naively I guess, that Falak’s ordeal would be a wake up call. But I guess I forgot that she was born on the wrong side of the fence. The so called civil society would not take up her fight, as they would for one of their won. The outrage, if any, will be short lived. I wonder what makes us move. Every day we hear of some form of child abuse. We just carry on unmoved and dry eyed. Falak’s story will remain an individual one. Many will and have offered help. If she lives, Falak will be cared for. But about the other Falaks. Will we fight for better laws to protect our children. Maybe not as our children are not targets. It is time we change our attitude. It is time we start seeing with our heart. Falak’s pain can not be in vain.

Thanks to the wonder of Skype I get to see and talk to my grandson every day. Never mind that the 12 hour time difference muddles our good mornings and good nights! Anyway we get to live a few moments together and that is nothing short of wonderful. Agastya treats me to his version of daily trivia. The latest was his visit to the zoo where he saw a popotamus! He then went on all fours to show me what the popotamus was all about. Then it was showtime for the new toys he had be bribed with: the transformer, the car, the truck. Yes the kid has to be bribed because he does not like the new school he goes to. Understandable as till now he was attending the project why creche where he was king of the castle and the centre of all attention. This despite my repeated pleas to treat him as any other kid. But all pleas well on deaf ears: he was Anou Ma’am grandson.

I keep or at least try to keep a straight face when his little face crumples, his radiant smile vanishes at the mention of school. I try to convince him that his school is nice, his new ma’ams kind but my heart is not there. I guess both of us will have to get used to the new reality. I need to accept that he is growing up. But I know that from now on in our home a hippopotamus will always be called a popotamus just as an AC is a thanda machine (cold machine) and cars are vroom vrooms.

My thoughts go back to another little boy, now all grown up, who added the word Boman to my vocabulary. It was ‘bhagavan‘ or God and was to this little fellow anything that was big, made of inert material and had to be shown respect. Never mind the creed! The little boy has grown up and now does not use the word anymore. His God has now assumed an identity and a creed. I only wish all Gods remained Bomans. The world would be a much kinder place. I still find myself praying to Boman when things get tough. Maybe he is the real God of Lesser Beings I so often quote. Children make the world a better place and give us the best lessons in life. Why then do we not listen.

Far from that. We commit the terrible sin to letting them down and even abusing them. Every day stories of such abuse hit us in the face but we chose to look away and shut our ears. I urge you to try and listen, just once if you can. And if you do miracles will enfold and light your life. And if each of one did then the world would be a safer place for children at least. I wonder what would have happened to Utpal, Babli, Meher, Manisha and so many others if I had not listened.

Today little Falak is fighting a lonely battle. Every breath she takes is a loud scream that she wants us to listen to, if not for her, at least for all of India’s suffering children. Will we hear her?

She is battling alone for her life. She is just 2! She was named Falak. It means star. Wonder who gave her that name. But it was the right one as this little girl refuses to stop shining. Her story is nothing short of barbaric. She has been abused in the most inhuman way imaginable. Broken bones, smashed head, burnt and bitten, not by a animal but by the worst predator possible: a human being. If she lives the doctors fear brain damage. A beautiful little life has been maimed forever. And the whys scream to be heard but only silence resounds. A disturbing silence… the silence that always surrounds abused children. It is time we heard her cries and with her the cries of all the abused children of India! The children who have no voice, the children who are no one’s vote banks, the children we refuse see, hear let alone help. The children who beg on the streets, the children who are abused in orphanages, the children who are abused in their homes by those they trust most. The children who remain invisible.

Falak’s poignant story has to be heard. Maybe this little star’s life has its own meaning: to be the voice of all the suffering children of our land. How much more will it take to make us get up and scream. Are we so inured, so insensitive, so cynical, so heartless, so cold blooded, so blind.

What dark secrets does little Falak’s story hide: abuse, trafficking. Why did she land in the home of a minor who also seems to have been abused. What was the sinister game plan for this little toddler. What made it all go so terribly wrong. Questions that may never be truly answered. And even if they were what punishment will be meted out to the perpetrators. A few years in jail?

How long will we remember Falak. I guess as long as another story takes her place. One that will engage us for some time till another comes along. Switch on your TV and you will see that it has already happened: the cricket debacle is now the order of the day, then will come elections and so on. Falak will soon be forgotten by the media.

Falak deserves more than that. She cannot be made into another political issue and used to settle scores. The CEO of our city promised help. Let the report come out. Delhi Government will extend all possible support. We will do whatever is required said she!

What report! And what does whatever required means. Let me tell you what it means: it does not just mean some money for her treatment but it means life long love and care for this child who may be scarred for life in more ways than one. It means giving her a home and not throwing her in an orphanage where she will soon be abused like the little girl like her who died a few days ago. It means walking the talk all the way. If she lives, Falak may suffer permanent brain damage and that means she will join the sad rank of the mentally challenged girl child. In one of the numerous debates that aired the day Falak’s story broke, a lady did ask the question of who would adopt this child of God and take her into their home and above all heart. I would like to have said: I will but stop short of it. At my advanced age can I really give her what she deserves? Do I have the strength to be there for her 100% for times to come. No. Even if I do have the heart, I do not have enough time. Nurturing a child like her needs much more than I can give. I know it as God has already sent me a little Angel named Utpal whose life and dreams he has entrusted me with.

Falak is battling like a star all alone in a big and scary hospital. She is battling so that we can hear the voice of children who are abused and hurt every day. Her life has a meaning, a mission just like Manu’s had. No life is useless. Every one is part of a plan we have to unravel. Maybe she simply wants us to see with our hearts and take up the cudgels for all the suffering children who have no voice. Children are not vote banks hence they do not matter. I was appalled and amused when the Leno remarks got the support of UK politicos. But come to think of it they were just protecting their vote bank!

But who cares about vote banks. We are talking of a child who has been abused in the worst way possible and whose every breath urges us to hear, see and jump out of our comfort zones. Will we before it is too late for Falak and all the hurting children of India.

I normally do not check my Facebook account in the day. I did this morning. As I scrolled through the home page I was appalled to see a post that said:ONE TENTED CLASSROOM & 390 STUDENTS OF DEL GOVT CO-ED SEC SCHOOL! There were pictures to substantiate this unbelievable fact. The school is in Sundar Nagri, New Delhi 10093. A part of the city the likes of you and I may not exists but is still very much a part of our Capital. The very capital where two days from now India will celebrate its 63 Republic Day and showcase its misplaced might.

In all likelihood the children of this school will, perhaps tomorrow hoist a flag and proudly sing the National Anthem with fervour and enthusiasm. Now I ask you a simple question. Are these children not citizens of India? Don’t they have the rights enshrined in the very Constitution we are celebrating? Do they not have the Right to Education that states that schools should meet certain basic infrastructure requirements like a building, a library, toilets etc. Then why this aberration!

Imagine your child having to spend hours in the cold without a proper roof on his head, let alone a desk and chair. Having to learn in the biting cold when hands freeze and minds numb. What about summer? Imagine 320 children crammed under a flimsy tent that must be hot as hell? I guess you would bring the roof down! And yet these children bear the ordeal day after day with a simple hope: that of getting the much lauded education that is meant to open new doors. These children dare to dream and dream they must. But should we not all lend our voice to their inaudible one and set matters right. Is this not a cause that we should espouse or are we only going to champion causes that affect us.

How can the powers that be accept such a situation and allow it to happen. It take minutes for our Parliamentarians to adopt a bill to raise their own salaries. Why is it that such a glaring aberration does not make them budge and speak. When will we stop letting our children down. I am livid and want to hang my head in shame.

For a day we are pushed to forget what goes on behind the show. But can we. It is time we asked ourselves what we are truly the Republic of? The choices are many. Let us start with hunger. In spite of the glitzy, high tech and affluent image we want to project – we have the maximum billionaires in the world; guess it goes with the size of our population – we  have the worst record when it comes to malnutrition. 5000 children still die every day of malnourishment. Our statistics are worst than those of sub Saharan Africa. 42% of our children are malnourished! Recently our CEO declared that this was a national shame. Wonder why it took so long and what will be the outcome of his statement. So are we the Republic of Hunger?

Let us continue to find the right definition for our Republic. Corruption is what comes next. I guess everyone agrees on that one. 2011 witnessed a lot of hue and cry on the issue. But again to no avail as voices of dissent were overpowered and futile and pointless solutions set into motion. We all know nothing will happen and corruption will remain intact. And this across the board from the small street vendor who wants to eek a living to the big corporates who want their pitch accepted, everyone will have to grease a palm confidently proffered. It almost seems that we cannot live in our dear Republic without mastering this art. Are we the Republic of Corruption?

Are we then the Republic of failed promises. Perhaps. Look at all the lofty promises made by the powers that be, promises meant to be a panacea to all ills but that get hijacked on the way and become new avenues to enrich the executors. The examples are endless. Look at all the grand schemes that are heralded ad infinitum and bear complex acronyms: ICDP, MNREGA, XZYZ and so on. One of our erstwhile leaders did admit that not even 10% trickles down to the beneficiary.

Are we the Republic of the absurd where politicians of all hues promise free laptops in a land where millions still sleep hungry. Where a politician asks a school child to tie his shoe lace at a public function and when admonished simply answers that his doctor has advised him not to bend. Has he not heard of slip on shoes, maybe one should send him a pair!

Are we a Republic of extremes where the rich get richer and the poor poorer by the minute. The gap is widening in every walk of life.  Let us talk about our children. Instead of progressing our children are  are regressing. The education infrastructure is abysmal. According to a recent article India has a shortage of 1.5 million teachers. Now don’t tell me cannot find teachers if we truly wanted to. Sanctioned amounts are never released. On the flip side schools for those who can pay are proliferating. Education is a lucrative business. The state of health is no better. Health care for the poor is lamentable: overcrowded hospitals where you need to wait for months and even years for a simple surgery, quacks who fill in the gap with their half baked knowledge. The rich however are wooed by luxurious hospitals that burgeon by the day and cater to your every whim provided you have the moolah.

Our Republic does not have the will to house its poor. They are left to fend for themselves and come up with solutions often illegal but that soon get the blessings of those in power always on the hunt for new vote banks. You cannot imagine what some of these dwellings look like and what living in them means in the heat of the summer or the winter freeze. Can we called ourselves the Republic of  shame.

We could also be called a republic of feudalism, forgive the paradox but what else would you call a country that is divided along every line possible: caste, religion, gender and economic status. Invisible and impregnable walls separate them and some arrogate to themselves the right to trample others.

You may think that all these are just generalities. Not quite. In the last few days we have had the above stated shoe lace aberration, a woman mercilessly beaten up by a cop, 12 babies dying in 2 days in a state run hospital and more.

A sad picture is it not? But I would like to look at matters in another way. In spite of all the chaos and failures millions of Indian live one day after the other with infinite dignity and courage. Millions of children defy all odds and dare to dream and build a better future. Thousands of Indians have the grit to take the road less travelled and bring usurped smiles back. Faceless millions continue to protect the values and principles many have waylaid. Millions of Indians refuse to give up on their cherished country. We are the Republic of smiles, hope, courage and dignity.

God bless India!

I have always held that the education system in our country is abysmal. Many like throwing facts and figures at me to prove the contrary but I hold my ground. And I have reason to as I have for the last 12 years seen things first hand. In spite of highfalutin and grandiose programmes launched time and again and in spite of the fact that education has become a constitutional right of every child born on this land, the reality is quite different.

I would have liked to be proved wrong but two recent studies sadly validate my take. In the Programme for International Student Assessment (PISA), conducted annually to evaluate education systems worldwide by the OECD India ranked second last among 73 countries. Even in maths considered India’s forte they only beat Kyrgyzstan. In English reading too they were second last. When scores were compared an Indian eighth grader is at the level of a South Korean third grader in math abilities or a second-year student from Shanghai when it comes to reading skills. And that is not all Pratham’s seventh Annual Survey of Education Report released last week tells a sorry tale: rising enrolment but declining attendance, over-reliance on private tuition, decline in reading and mathematical ability of children in the age group between 6 and 14.

And yet when Indian children are given a enabling environment they top the chart. So when one reads with profound sadness that an eight grader from India compares to a second grader in China one knows that the fault does not lie with the children but with the system and with each one of us. Just bear with me a little before wondering why I say that we are responsible too.

For the past 12 years we have been working with what one could call Children of a Lesser God: the ones born on the wrong side of the fence, the ones whose parents can barely afford school let alone tuition, the ones who often go astray, the ones whose childhood is hijacked for more reasons than one can count, the ones who start life with a huge handicap and run an unfair race in an insensitive world. They too have rights, education being one of them but here again things are not as should be. The schools they go to are fraught with aberrations: little or no teaching, abusive teachers etc. They move from class to class courtesy the no fail policy. We have students who have ‘passed’ class IV or V and can barely read. The immediate reaction would be to think that something is wrong with the child. Not all all. The same child with a little help and support not only makes up but goes on to top the her or his class. Over the years we have had many such examples, the most stunning one being a young girl who failed class VII thrice an went on to secure the 11th position in Delhi in her XII Boards.

So the fact that the Indian eight grader compares to a second grader from another country is not due to the child’s ability but to the sorry state of affairs in our system. And this state has been aggravated over the years with the widening of the gap between rich and poor, a gap that has percolated to every field even education. Over the years we have seen the commercialisation of education. Education is now a lucrative business that answers  market demands. Hence we have schools for the uber rich, the rich, the not so rich and so on. On the other side of the spectrum, state run schools that now seem to be catering to the poor have seen their standards drop by the minute. Some of the stories the children tell us are beyond belief. Municipal schools in our capital city have no toilets, no drinking water, sometimes no desks. Teachers are indifferent and often brutal and uncaring. How children survive this ordeal and keep their smile and humour is ample proof of their desire to study.

It is time we looked at our state run schools and did something. These schools cater to the millions of underprivileged kids and need to be run efficiently. I have often mooted the idea of a common school for ALL children, schools that should be centers of excellence, schools that should really celebrate the much extolled  unity in diversity, schools were your children and their children would grow and learn together. But as I said earlier we too are responsible for the sorry state of affairs as we will never accept to have our children study with theirs! So a common school however good will remain a chimera.

And then let us not forget that schools now top the charts of lucrative business where the demand is much higher then the supply, and everyone wants a share of the pie. Even our politicians! And then of course let us not forget that poorly educated masses are needed to keep our version of our democracy alive. Till then Indian children will remain 200 points and more below the best.

We however have set in motion our own version of a ‘common school’ by sending 8 of the most deprived children in a good boarding school to prove that the most disadvantaged child can hold is on and outshine others. Till now they have validated our theory in every which way imaginable. They will one day prove indubitably that they are the best.

My boys have gone. Agastya my grandson is now in the US ready to begin a new chapter in his life. Soon it will be school and new pals and Grandma will have to take a back seat. Utpal also left for his boarding school after spending his winter holidays with me. The house feels empty and Ma’amji a tad lost.

2011 was a very special year as both my boys spent a lot of time with me. Agastya was with us for a good part of the year and even began his schooling in the Project Why creche! The boys spent a lot of time together as even if Uptal was in school, Agastya never missed a single PTM. They got on like a house on fire. When Utpal was at home, Agastya followed him everywhere. They played together, ate together, went to the park together and even bathed together. It was a joy to watch them.

Today is Agastya’s third birthday and I miss him so much. We will connect on skype thanks to the magic of the Internet but it will not be quite the same as having him romp around the house. The tone has been set for 2012: the year of the virtual Nani! Not to mention the disquieting time difference where you do not know when to say ‘good morning’ or ‘good night’. I guess the old biddy will have to get used to it. I must admit that these time zone issues are still alien to me, I belong to the generation when we travelled my ships and body and soul journeyed together.

With Utpal it will be back to the weekly phone call that one never misses and the quick exchange of love filled words punctuated by small demands. I must again admit I look forward to those. So time to organise life around the tow little souls I so dearly miss.

Utpal loves malls. He loves the thrills of the games, enjoys the rides and even had a go at bungee jumping, the kind they have at malls. I must confess that I am the one responsible for introducing him to such activities as when he first went to boarding school the only place close enough to school where we could take him for a treat was the nearby mall! I must also add that he has never been demanding specially as he grew up and was quite happy to go the ersatz option namely his beloved Kal Mandir. But a special treat will always be a visit to the mall. So last week as a reward for having been exceptionally endearing and compliant during his entire winter break, I decided to give him that special treat and find out a mall near our home which had some options for kids.


Before I go on I must be quick to add that I abhor malls and what they represent. I have often penned my views on the subject. To me they are the absolute antithesis of what I think India should be. I shun them and it needs nothing short of miracle to push me in one. But Utpal is an adept at conjuring miracles and this was yet another of them. So on a chilly Sunday morning we set out, my daughter, Utpal, Deepak the young lad who works at home and is Utpal’s best pal and me to conquer the mall. The deal was that Utpal and Deepak would go to the kidzone and Shamika and me would wander around looking at the famed sales. After a few hiccups – the kidzone opened only at one so we had to find an alternative so hurray for the video game parlour – Shamika and I took on the mall. We walked by empty glitzy shops looking at price tags that seemed outrageous even after 40 or 50% mark down and walked around aimlessly. Shamika did manage to find a deal though. 


I spent my time looking around the alleys of the malls that were slowly filling up. The people one saw were not at all potential shoppers but seemed to have come for a Sunday outing. There were middle class families children in tow and of course numerous young couples in need of a place to spend private time. This was quite an eye opener for me and a totally different take on malls. It brought a smile on my face. Unable to afford the exorbitant prices on offer, middle class India has adopted their own own brand of mall culture: the new place to hang out. Not a bad idea, warm in winter, cool in summer and dry in the monsoon. There are free places to sit and some not too costly coffee shops. And no moral policing as is the case in parks! My thoughts went back to times gone by and I remembered with a smile our  hang outs of days of yore: the zoo, a park  or a roadside dhaba in winter and probably a morning movie show in summer!



After our stroll meant to kill time till Utpal had his fill of games and rides we went to join him at the kidzone situated next to the food court. Here again we saw middle class people enjoying a meal has the eateries are still affordable. Many of the ones located in normal markets have outlets in malls. Andif shops were quasi empty the food court was filled to capacity with long queues at the coupon sales counter. Needless to say I did stand patiently and Utpal and his pal got their fill of chips and other fast food fare. 


Thankfully it was soon time to go as Utpal decreed he had had his fill. I had had more than enough. One the drive back I wondered whether the likes of Radhey our three wheeler driver and his family would one day also join the throngs of people enjoying a lazy day off at a swanky mall. Maybe not though am not certain if malls have a ‘rights reserved’ tag. I do feel that they too should adopt their own brand of mall culture and increase the much sought footfalls. Cheers to incredible India.

Utpal got a new bicycle for Xmas. He was thrilled and rode it all day with a huge smile on his face and proud to show off that he could ride a cycle without trainer wheels. The same evening he took it to the nearby park to show it to all his friends. The next day when it was park time again he came into my office and asked me softly whether he could give is old cycle to Amit. Amit it transpired was his special park friend and the son of a daily wage labourer. Of course you can were my words! I gave him a big hug and off he went both cycles in tow.

After he left I sat in my office for a long time, my thoughts going back in time to the day when I first held this very special child in my arms. What a long way he had come. He had been born on the wrong side of the fence and suffered unbelievable pain at an age where children should know only love. From the excruciating pain of third degree burns to the agonizing pain of seeing his mom simply vanish, he had seen it all. At the tender age of four he was sent to a boarding school where he cried himself to sleep night after night his head filled with questions that he could barely articulate let at all convey. He slowly adapted to his new life and healed somewhat when he was again faced with court appearances and tough decisions he had to take. The questions multiplied, the answers were still not forthcoming. That is when he almost broke down and we had to seek medical help. The smile that once was his trademark had simply disappeared to be replaced by anger and rage.

In the last months Utpal has slowly accepted to come out of his shell and voice his fears and we have tried to assuage them gently. The smile has come back and with it a new found confidence. Today his simple request was a true gift not just to his little park pal but to his Ma’amji. His gesture was proof that he was finally feeling secure and protected. It was also proof that over the years he had imbibed values dear to me and understood the true meaning of the art of giving. May God always bless him.

It is nursery admission time again. Time for schools to raking in the moolah! The sale of roms is expected to bring in 1200 crores rupees. Now we all know the situation on the ground: not enough schools and too many applicants. This has been the same story year after year. Parents have to apply to umpteen schools each charging a whopping amount for a mere form. How can I forget the little boy rejected by 18 schools for no fault of his. That was three years ago!

I was appalled and bemused by the answer given by our eminent CEO when quizzed on the issue:  These days one is seeing news items highlighting how parents are worried over children not getting admissions in schools. This is happening because our government has been building awareness that children from all sections of society must go to school. Hence, now all parents want their children to go to school said she! Now Dear Lady this has been going on for the last three years at least if not more.

This year the problem was closer home. The coordinator of our women centre is seeking admission for his 3+ year old. He has already collected and filled many forms, some at the cost of 700 Rs and more and is running from pillar to post. You see he lives in an area where there are no good schools in a 3km radius, his child is male, he is a first child and hence has no siblings, his parents are not alumni of any school so he runs the race with a huge handicap. That is not all. Some schools have introduced new criteria. It has been named RAA or Representative Affirmative Action. Wonder what that is? Well private schools have decided to reserve 15% seats to children of Doctors, Engineers and Lawyers. India really seems to be fine tuning the quota syndrome. And the logic mooted is strange and perplexing and stated as follows: The purpose of introducing this criterion is to provide a common platform of education to children belonging to families working in different fields. This is an effort towards building a glorious nation. I am at a loss of words.Some schools are also offering extra points for twins, and of course there are extra points for the children of single parents. Our little candidate has none of these advantages. The situation is Dantesque.

Whether he will make it to a good school is a million dollar question.

Is Government school an option? Not quite as one knows of the reputation of these schools. Sadly they have not become the centre of excellence they should have been and remain in a poor if not abysmal state. We have first hand knowledge of this as all project why children attend them and share their day-to-day experiences. You have to hear them to believe them. Dickensian schools seem like heaven compared to what goes on in some of our state run institutions.

Every child now has the right to a good education. That is what our law makers wants us to believe. By this yardstick all schools in our country should be enabled to provide quality education. Education should in no way be a commercial enterprise an a way of enriching one’s self at the expense of helpless parents. Why should forms cost from 500 to 1000 Rs? The solutions proffered like the lottery system also do not make any sense. Come on! Should a child’s future be left to lady luck.

It is time the Government seriously walked the talked and not trivialise the issue as it seems to be doing. It is time they put their act together. The children of India deserve the best.

So finally the powers that be concede that malnutrition is a national shame! It took them a hell of a long time to do so. I have been harping about this for as long as I can remember. In an incisive article title Many mouths to feed, Annie Zaidi asks the disturbing and yet pertinent question: Do all Indians deserve to eat? Or do we believe that some of us deserve bottled water and broadband and truffles while some of us starve? The answer has to be a screaming YES! All 1,180,285,856 of us deserve to eat.

The recent HUGaMA report revealed some disturbing statistics: 60 % of the children suffer from some degree of malnutrition and 92% of the mothers surveyed had never heard of malnutrition. And how can we forget the most shocking statistic of all: 5000 children dying every day of malnutrition!

Now if we do believe that all Indians deserve to eat at least two square hot meals a day then why don’t we get riled at such statistics! Why do we not stop and think while serving ourselves large plates of food at the lavish parties we attend. Why don’t we see all the food that goes in our dustbins and that is still perfectly edible and ponder? Why are we so inured to glaring disparities that stare us at the face each and every day: children begging, people rummaging for food in garbage dumps, people sleeping in the freezing cold. I do not know the answers. I only know that such matters make my blood run cold and boil at the same time. I am also at a loss to understand why the so called well to do, intelligent and educated citizens of our country do not raise their voice as they did on the matter of corruption and the much talked about Lok Pal bill.

Millions do not get even a square meal a day. Millions of our children are stunted and malnourished. At the same time unimaginable amounts of food grain rot every year. Something is so very wrong and yet we remain mute and aloof.

The powers that be however are on the prowl and have sensed a good way to appease a public reeling under food rise and inflation. Why not push the Food Security Bill. It will have the much needed feelgood factor. But beware the said bill has a huge flow: though it legislates for specific amounts of food grains to be distributed to needy families, it lacks detail on how it plans to ensure this allocation.

According to a well written article without paying attention to effective distribution, the bill will simply exacerbate the problem of food wastage while millions continue to starve. Would it be impertinent to add: whilst many will find new ways of lining their bottomless pockets. Moreover according to the same article the bill will not uplift the rural population and actually hurt the farmer.

Wonder why? Another article gives a very precise example of how the true beneficiaries will fall out of the net courtesy the famed Socio Economic and Caste Census which is a mockery of the poor. If you have a mud house but it has a tarpaulin you fall off the net. Or what about this exmaple: Nani Devi, a 60-year-old  lives with her husband in a kuccha room house in Purohitaan village in Jaipur district. She has three sons, but all of them live separately and do not support them. The illiterate couple who belong to Scheduled Caste category has got a job card and is beneficiary under MGNREGA, but old age does not allow them to work much. They too will not get the famed BPL card and thus access to cheaper food.

Yet in all likelihood the bill will be passed as it is the pet project of the real powers that be and no political party would dare oppose it as it may anger the poor who see it as a panacea to all ills and are not able to understand the flaws and drawbacks. It seems to answer the very question stated at the beginning of this piece: do all Indians deserve to eat? And if the answer is yes, then it is time we found our selfish voices and did something. But will we? That remains the question.

The government is busy pushing a bill that will ensure that no one in our country goes hungry. This should be a wow moment for all as the 5000+ kids who die every day of malnutrition is a statistic we can well do without. The effort should be applauded as it would ensure that mothers need not stuff their children’s mouth with chili to ensure they drink a lot of water and hence do not feel hunger pangs, that no 5 year old look like a 2 year old. But somehow it does not fell right. What comes to mind is that it will be just another way for corrupt beings to fill their pockets. Had the now ageing ICDS scheme worked then no one below 30 should have been malnourished. We all know who the real beneficiaries of that scheme were: petty bureaucrats and politicians of all hues, corporate houses who were quick to hijack contracts and so on. Activists are already calling it flawed  One such activist states:”As far as children are concerned, whatever was mentioned in the draft has not come in this proposed Bill.”Many also feel that it will not reach the true beneficiaries. The whole effort may be well intended but is fraught with pitfalls that no one is willing to see. We all know what happened to the midday school meal! The reality is that children will still die of malnutrition in 21st century India 5000 a day.

That is one side of India: the hidden and dark side that everyone wants to brush under the carpet. An India that is real and should outrage the so called civil society. But that is never the case because a child dying in a remote village in the boonies does not affect the likes of us. So we remain mute, aloof, and unmoved. We only find our voice for things that let us say concern us.

The recent issue of a weekly carried the following headline on its cover: A voyeur’s guide to the Billionaire experience. Open the magazine and you will discover where and how the uber rich spend their money. The choice is ample: you can spend a night at a hotel in New Delhi @ of half a million rupees. And if that is enough you can splurge some more by buying yourself the most expensive (9999 rupees) pizza at the hotel’s signature restaurant. The same magazine invites you to taste a paan @ 5000 Rs, one that promises to increase your libido, or try the the new Rolls Royce priced at 3.25 crores. It is already a success and many have been sold. Confusing… not really this is India today!

Was it just a year ago that Manu left us? It seems like an eternity! With him around everything seemed easy and possible. After his departure nothing was ever the same. Friday January 7th 2011 dawned like any other chilly winter day. Nothing could make us think that it would change our lives forever.

Upon reaching project why I as always made my way to the special class located on the ground floor. I needed my feelgood shot: Manu’s smile. I was a little disappointed to see he was not there but remembered I was the one who had decreed that he should stay warm in his bed on exceptionally cold days and this was certainly one of them. I made a mental note to drop by the flat he lived in later and set out to the chores of the day. I cannot remember what exactly occurred but I was called away and never got to keeping my tryst with Manu on that fateful day. I never knew that tomorrow would never dawn.

It must have been 4pm or so when the girls called me. They had been on their way home when a call from the special educator summoned back to Manu’s home. A few minutes later a weeping Shamika informed me that Manu had left us forever. Time stopped. My mind and heart refused to believe what the ears had just heard. How could this have happened. True he had been a tad unwell but it was Manu we were talking of! He had weathered so many storms. He had always seemed invincible. A little cold could not get the better of him. There was something terribly wrong. I rushed to the flat, running up the three flights of stairs and entered the room where he lay. He just looked asleep. He would wake up and we would hear when his endearing moans. But that was not to be. He never answered my desperate appeals. He was gone. And with him a little of myself too.

I sat next to him, my hands stroking his face. I barely heard the teacher telling we what had happened, how he had asked for a glass of water, drank it and then while the teacher went to make him a cup of tea and get him two of his favourite biscuits, he simply slipped away as quietly as he had lived, without any fuss. That was Manu, a gentle soul who had survived a wretched life without a word of complaint or anger.

Today my thoughts go to him and to his exceptional life, a life that is nothing short of a miracle. Manu came to this earth with a purpose and a mission. You may wonder what purpose and mission a mentally and physically challenged being born in abject poverty could have. It is true that most of us would have brushed him away as yet another wretched beggar had we come across him wandering his street dirty and half clad; that his heart rendering cries would have seemed an irritant that we may have quietened by throwing him a coin. I still do not know why I did not do just that. Maybe everything was preordained. I stopped and looked at him with my heart and my life changed forever. I was to be the catalyst of Manu’s mission on this earth. How blessed was I.

Manu’s legacy is huge. If not for him there would not have been a project why. If not for him so many lives would never have been transformed, be it the now thousands of children who have got access to education, the scores of kids with repaired hearts, the many hopeless souls who now have dignified employment, the bunch of disabled kids who now spend their day happy and so on. Manu was born to conjure miracles and boy he did.

If not for Manu a depressed and lost woman would not have found her way and discovered what she was capable of. Yes it was Manu who made the impossible possible. He lifted my sagging spirits and allowed me to soar. As long as he was at my side I could conquer the world.

With him gone my gait has lost its bounce, my shoulders have sagged and my spirit suddenly seems fallible. With him gone what once was effortless is now back breaking. True I know we need to carry on as that is the only way to honour his memory but the road seems long and replete with challenges that now seem almost insurmountable. Yet I know I will soldier on. I have to. For Manu.

A gift of love came our way lifting our sagging spirits a little. This one was truly bejeweled. Thousands of miles from the slums in which we work Kashmira a lovely lady with a huge heart sat day after day crafting some incredible pieces. With every pearl she threaded and every knot Kashmira tied she wove dreams for little children she had never met. Then one day when she thought she had sufficient jewels she decided to organise a sale urging all her friends to buy a piece reminding them that the proceeds would come to us. Yesterday a cheerful mail dropped in my mail box announcing her success. She had managed to collect quite a substantive amount and had mailed it to us. She added that this was to be an on going effort. Wow I was floored. It is easy to click an online donation option or even write a cheque but to spend your free time crafting gifts of love is rare and overwhelming.

We over the years have been privileged to be the recipients of many such efforts. Would you believe it if I told you that a kind soul from the UK spent his Xmas day or actually over 22 hours painting a mural for our tiny tots! It was a cold day – by Indian standards at least – and the building was empty and almost eerie. As early as 7 am, notwithstanding a late Xmas eve do, Gareth was in the building with his paint, his creativity and his big heart. To keep him company were his iPhone and a bottle of water. When we dropped by with some tea and cake, he had  sketched the mural. It would take him 22 long hours to finish painting it. But he did not go to bed, he wanted to see the little faces when they saw the, lion giraffe, elephant, hippos and other friendly creatures that adorn their wall. The children were a little awed at first but soon started recognising the different animals and shouting it their names. The 22 hours were worth every smile on the little faces. Gareth’s gift of love was also a very special fund raiser.

Gareth and Kashmira are very special souls as they see with their hearts. It is thanks to and because of people like them that Project Why has been able to carry on despite many obstacles. It is because of people like them that miracles come our way when the night is at it darkest. This time we were able to save one of our early education programmes. They are like rays of sunshine on a dark day and compel us to believe that there is still hope in our world, no matter what it looks like. God bless them!

 This is an infinitesimal part of the lavish buffet of a New Year’s eve party in a uppity club of our capital city. The copious fare was preceded by abundant snacks as is always the case. On the rare occasions I have attended such parties, I have never found the my way to the buffet as the snacks alone were plenty. I guess there are many like me. At best we peck at the food to please the hosts. I still remember an uber rich wedding dinner where the buffet was unending and offered every possible cuisine imaginable, even an omelet station! That was the first time I discovered visual indigestion. A simple walk along the buffet aimed at deciding what to partake ended in my inability to eat anything. I have long stopped gracing such occasions as I am one of the few I guess who can never forget the 5000+ children who die of malnutrition every day in our country. But that is my cross and I bear it alone.

The idea of this post was subsequent to a simple question I asked one of the club members: where does the left over food go as no one can tell me that there are no leftovers! The person looked at me blankly and mumbled an incomprehensible answer. I nagged him a bit and he promised me to find out. But I can guess where it goes: most probably into a bin! Have you ever asked yourselves where all the food left over from lavish parties goes? Maybe it time we should.

Drop the last year into the silent limbo of the past. Let it go, for it was imperfect, and thank God that it can go wrote Brooks Atkinson. Yes that is exactly what I want to do at the close of the year as it was an imperfect one! I want to welcome the new year with open arms and hope in my heart, hope that troubles will blow away and dreams fulfilled. The only deviation I may allow myself is to use the few hours left and take stock of our mistakes with honesty and candour.

I know we herald the New Year with our share of problems but it is time to take them head on and do our best. Perhaps we had grown a little too ambitious or put all our eggs in one basket. It is time for a new approach and that will be our New Year resolution.

It may also be time to candidly celebrate our achievements and look at our failures as hiccups in our wonderful story. Nothing can be perfect and fools are those who believe so. I was one of them. It is time I realise that the coming year is also the one that makes of me a senior citizen and thus it is also time that I shed my temerity and adopt wiser ways. I am ready to take on the challenges ahead and meet them full on. It promises to be an exciting year.

To all those who have been part of my incredible I want to say a heartfelt Thank You! It would not have been possible without each one of you, be it the children and team of the project, the exceptional volunteers who have come and given their time and love, the two little boys in the picture – Agastya and Utpal – who have drowned me with pure love, to my family who is my strength, and to all those who have believed in my dream and made it possible by always seeing with their hearts

I wish you all  a blessed and exceptional new year filled with peace, success, love and serenity. God bless you.

Happy New Year!

Come Monday these little souls and their pals will not have a creche to come and play in. The sleepless nights did not bring any counsel. The innumerable mails sent, the countless doors knocked at, the umpteen appeals and entreaties remained unheeded. No one heard the silent cries of these little Angels. Yes, for no fault of theirs their three wheeler that went to fetch them every morning will stop doing so. Instead of learning, dancing singing, laughing in a warm and happy environment, these children will now brave the cold in their humid and dark homes or on the streets of their slums.

They have not been told as yet as I am still waiting for a miracle. A glimmer of hope is on the horizon and the children may get a reprieve but the Damocles sword still hangs on our heads as unless we are able to secure funding for a length of time.

From the time I came to terms with the fact that our early may close altogether or at best be truncated, I have found myself slinking past the two baby classes, avoiding to meet their innocent and trusting eyes and willing myself not to hear their laughter and endearing babble. This is so unlike me as normally I would make it a point to enter their classrooms yearning to hear their loud and happy Good Morning Ma’am. I often lingered on watching them at work or play and soaking in their cheerfulness. Now I hurry past and almost run up the stairs in spite of my creaking knees.

I hope for a miracle but will it come. Only time will tell.

The year dawned with a terrible event that shattered us all. Manu who was the soul and spirit of Project Why passed away gently on a cold January day. Many thought, and quite rightly so that we would cave in and fade away but they were wrong. If Manu was the reason it all began, he was also the force that imbued us to carry on, more so after his passing as that was the only way we could truly honour his memory. The biggest lesson he had given us was that nothing is impossible and that life was to be celebrated no matter how worthless it may seem. So 2011 had to be a special year, one befitting the spirit of Manu. And he did just that. 2011 turned out to be quite an exciting year.
     
15 August 2011
Independence Day and Ram Goburdhun Centenary Celebrations

Before outlining the activities of different centres, one would like to share the highlight of 2011, which undoubtedly was the celebration of our Independence Day, which coincided with the Centenary of Ram Goburdhun in whose memory Project Why was created.

Children from all centres participated in these celebrations. The show was breathtaking in more ways than one. The passion of the children, the quality of the different items and the warmth of the audience made it a unique experience. The large community hall was packed and the foot tapping music and dance were appreciated by one an all.
You can share some of these very special moments by clicking on the following link:
The magic of a celebration
At the end of the show children who had topped their respective classes were honoured with medals.
It was truly a wow moment for project why.

Number of Staff: 25

OKHLA

Primary Classes

  Our Okhla centre has been in existence for six years. The journey began in a garbage dump that we ‘reclaimed’! It all began in a makeshift structure of bamboo and plastic sheets amidst extreme resentment. Today it is a happy centre under a tin roof, with walls and even fans. The centre runs in 2 shifts with boys in the morning and girls in the afternoon.

The children come from extremely deprived homes, most of migrant labour. When we first came in the area 90% of the children were not going to school. Many were peddling drugs or engaged in petty theft. Now all our children are in school and doing well.
In early 2010 we began spoken English classes to help children build their confidence. Children are taught through fun activities like story telling, educational games etc. Environment classes are also held. Children are taught how to keep the neighbourhood clean, prevent disease and make the planet plastic free. Unfortunately we had to close the English classes because of lack of funding.

The primary children were taken for an outing to the Science Museum and participated in a First Aid workshop at the American School.

The Okhla team, staff and children is extremely motivated and committed to their school. It is the only centre where children participate actively in painting the school every Diwali each child contributing five rupees and the teachers coming up with the balance. They have truly taken ownership of their centre.

As each year the children celebrated all the festivals with gusto and joy. A painting competition was organised by them. The children are fond of dancing and always perform for visitors and friends.
Many children topped their respective classes in school and done us proud.

Secondary classes

 Secondary were started recently on popular demand as our own students had graduated and wanted to continue studying with us. Children are helped with difficult subjects like maths and English and are also taught to study independently.

Over and above school curriculum, we endeavour to widen the knowledge of the children, something crucial for children from deprived homes. The students are taught to explore encyclopaedias and general knowledge books from our well stocked library. The centre also subscribes to newspapers to help them keep abreast with every day occurrences.

During exam time the students have regular tests based on sample papers. The pressure of exams is such that it leaves little time for extra curricular activities. However for the 15 August celebrations the students wrote and performed a play in English based on the Gandhi’s Dandi march.

The students benefit from the volunteers who come time and again and share their knowledge and skills.
Monday to Friday is reserved for studies, whereas Saturdays are for other activities.

Computer Classes

 Computer classes were also started on popular demand as we were told that there were no computer classes in the vicinity and that those that were there were very costly. Thanks to some generous donors we got 3 computers and began classes. These are extremely popular. The classes are taught by Mithu who is physically impaired after polio in his childhood.  He was a student of pwhy who showed keen interest in computers. He worked as a teacher’s aide in our main computer centre before taking over the Okhla computer centre.
This year 3 students obtained their certificates and our teacher participated in an one day NIIT teaching workshop. We are in the process of finalising a programme with NIIT. This will enable our students to get NIIT certificates after completion of a 3 month course.
You can read about special moments of our Okhla centre here:
Let my country awake
So many smiles
Happy R Day

GOVINDPURI

Early Education

Early education has always been a great concern for us as early education is still not in the ambit of free education. Experience shows that slum toddlers do not lead a privileged life in the arms of caring parents. By the time they reach school, they are unsocial difficult children who find it extremely difficult to adjust to a set pattern and routine. Our early intervention programme is above all aimed at giving toddlers and pre-schoolers the right to early childhood in a safe environment.
Most of our children come from extremely deprived homes though some also belong to higher social strata, as some parents in the neighbourhood chose to send their children to our crèche.

Our early education programme is divided in two classes:

Crèche: Here the children range from 1 to 5. They are taught poems, counting, how to hold a pencil, draw a straight line. They are also taught to draw, sing and dance.

Prep: After a year in the crèche the children are moved to the prep section where they are prepared for entry into Class I.  They are taught English and Hindi alphabets, numbers, etc.

The children enjoy their time with us and make the most of it. Any time you walk into these classes you are greeted with a huge smiles and loud Namastes!

The main drawback of these classes is that we are unable to follow the children once they ‘graduate’ from our programme. This is due to the fact that they come from a slum where we do not have an outreach primary programme or belong to families who put them in better schools.

The programme is also an onerous one as we provide free transport and lunch to many of the students hailing from very poor homes.

This is why we may close the crèche in its present form and eventually think of opening a new one with children from a locality where we have primary outreach

Primary Outreach

This class was started in April 2010, after we closed down two of our small centres.

Many children come from Sanjay Colony and Govindpuri slums. What is quite moving is that some children are also surrogate parents to the younger siblings. The brother looks after the younger sibling in the morning and then hands the child over to the sister after she finishes school. The younger sibling thus spends the day at pwhy!

After a slow start, the centre gained momentum and soon the classes were filled to capacity. The children enjoy their time at project why and are happy learning.

What is remarkable in this class is that Anita, one of the teachers is a project why alumni. She has been with us since nursery and completed her class XII this year.

Many children got good positions in their school exams and were given prizes.
True blue
Only wish it shall be great

Library

Thanks to a huge donation of books we were able to start a Library in our old classroom in Giri Nagar. Children come and read books or take them home and enjoy the experience. The library also has a TV and DVD player and is thus a cine club! Pwhy children come and see movies or cartoons once a week.
As our librarian has time on his hands, he also runs a small primary class for 20 children from the locality.

Special needs section

The start of 2011 did not augur well for this section as Manu passed away on January 6th leaving all his pals stunned. They grieved for him in the most touching manner but soon realised that life has to go on. A smiling picture of Manu now hangs on the wall reminding each and everyone of us that his spirit is to be honoured.

The plight of children with disabilities has always been of great concern to us as they are by far the most neglected of all. More so as they grow into young adults and become a ‘burden’ for their families. Manu was the most poignant example of this sad reality.

We run a day care for 20 children and young adults with disabilities. The children have a vast array of disabilities both physical and/or mental. The main trust of the programme is to help these children and young adults gain independent living skills and if and when possible some vocational skills to help them become income earning members of their families thus regaining the respect they have often lost.
They also have a lot of creative and fun activities. Dancing is the all time favourite.
A speech therapist visits the centre regularly.
The children are also taught computer skills.

As the section has shifted to a bigger place, we are hoping to be able to add new activities such as cooking, baking, housekeeping, gardening etc. These will prove useful to them in the future.
This year the special children made some beautiful diyas for Diwali. These were sold and with the money they ‘earned’, gifts were bought for all and a super party organised with everyone’s favourite food. Everyone had a ball.
Farewell to Manu
Walk the talk
You take care of them God
Radha is back

Residential Programme for children with disabilities

This programme was a started to ensure that Manu, the young adult with disabilities that we found on the streets 10 years ago has a place to call home.  He was then joined by Anjali and Champa who were also homeless and at high risk of being abused. In winter they were joined by Radha for whom the extreme cold is a nightmare in her dark and damp hole. However, Manu passed away, and Anjali left the facility leaving Champa alone. We closed the residential centre and made arrangements for Champa to live with one of the special educators. We were sorry to have had to close this facility as it was a wonderful place!
Here are some glimpses of what life was in this very special place:
We are dancers, we create dreams
Give him his dinner
To the manor born

GIRI NAGAR

Senior Secondary classes
These classes are from IX to XII and focus mainly on mathematics and accountancy, as these are subjects that are feared the most by students. As every year, our students have passed their X and XII with excellent marks and some have even topped their respective schools.
We also sponsored the technical course fees of two of our best students: one for the course of lab assistant and the other for a diploma in electronic engineering.
Why not sponsor a future


Computer classes

Number of students: 38 per batch
Our computer classes are very popular. We have 10 computers and run 6 month courses. Many of our ex students have got jobs in companies, banks, etc.’ Saturdays are reserved for pwhy children.
In 2011, 31 students completed their certificate in a variety of courses Basic, Tally, DTP, Flash Animation, Hardware – and secured good jobs.

After school support for the hearing impaired
Thrice a week we provide space to 20 hearing impaired secondary students for after school support classes. These are run by our special educator.

Boarding school Programme

We sponsor 8 children in a boarding school. These are children from extremely deprived homes and would have never completed their studies and most probably dropped out and become child labour. The children are in different classes and each one of them tops his or her respective class
This is by far our most cherished programme as it is in consonance with what we stand for: equal opportunities for all children born in India. The programme is supported by individual donors.
 My never fail feelgood shot
She does not stop smiling
From five to eight
From vedic maths to table manners

Success Stories
Okhla
Kusum hails from Bihar. When her family moved to Delhi she was 12 and had never been to school. She wanted to study but was ashamed of going to school in class I. She joined pwhy and began to learn form scratch. Being bright and motivated she learned quickly and we got her admitted to class VI. Now she is in class X!

Harichanda was 8 when he first came to project why. He did not go to school and would roam the streets and fight with other children. We coaxed him to join the centre and turned out to be a very bright child. We called his mother and asker her why she did not get him admitted to school, she said she was illiterate and did not know how to go about it. We got him admission in class III. Now he is in class VI.

Firoz was 15 and lived closed to the centre. The boy was nice but had got in wrong company and would steal  and peddle drugs. He come to us and told us he wanted to study and we accepted him in spite of his age. He slowly dropped his bad habits. He was good dancer so one of our supporters sponsored dance classes for him at the Ashley Lobo Academy. Today he is a driver and has been sent to Mumbai by his company.

Sumit was in class III when he joined us. His elder brother who is 14 is an addict and steals from the goods trains. He stopped coming to the centre and wanted to emulate his brother but we talked to him and he is now coming regularly and also going to school.

Computer section
Abhay was 18 when we first met him. He lived in Delhi with hid grandfather who was very poor. We coaxed him into joining our computer course and he did exceedingly well. We helped him get a job with Vodafone where he is today a team leader earning 15 000 Rs a month.

Mohammed Husain use to iron clothes with his father while studying in school. A bright student he finished his class XII with good marks. Seeing his desire to learn new things we got him to join our computer classes as we felt it would help him accede to a better future. He today works as a computer operator at NDTV and earns 10 000 rs a month.

Preeti is 20. She comes from a poor family and has a mentally challenged sister. She is very bright but had to give up her studies to start cleaning houses to help her family. She wanted to join the computer course so we sponsored her. Today she works in a private company as a computer operator and earns 6000 Rs a month

Note: It is imperative that students acquire a skill to be able to break the cycle they are born in and improve their chances. Many of our students who have completed their studies with us have also completed their computer course. This has enabled them to get good jobs.
Many are employed as computer operators in different organisations earning between 6000 and 10 000 Rs. Some are employed as teachers and a few as hardware technicians.

Number of children: 280
Number of women: 70
Number of staff: 16
 
Primary Section Class I to V

From the very outset of the project we ran primary classes for the children of the community.  The classes are held in 2 shifts: boys in the morning and girls in the afternoon. Each shit was divided in two 1.30 minutes shifts.

Many of our children have left the centre as their families had to relocate because of the increase in rents. Most of our children are from migrant families and thus live on rented premises. Till recently rents were low in Khader Village but the construction of the metro resulted in rents being upped and thus inaccessible to migrant families.

At first we thought of looking for new children but then, after much deliberation decided to change our focus from ‘quantity to quality’ and thus instead of enrolling more children we decided to increase their timings. Now children stay for an extra hour and half and are taught spoken English and general knowledge. This ranges from teaching them about the environment to story telling, science, geography, creative activities etc all taught in an interactive and fun manner.

In the global economy of today, helping the children improve their ability to speak English guarantees them better job options when they finish their studies.  Children do learn English at school, but teaching quality is state run schools is poor and most children do not have the sort of home environment where they are encouraged to speak it or indeed have anyone to speak it with and are thus lacking in confidence. Sadly the spoken English classes have been closed down as the persons funding this programme expressed their inability to continue doing so.

We also want to try and make our children better citizens and hence the general knowledge component which is designed to enable them to acquire more rounded life skills.

Moreover the new education policy whereby no child can fail till class VIII has made it imperative for us to educate children, as education in Government schools is practically non-existent.

  Secondary Section

These classes are also held in two shifts. Emphasis is laid on the school curriculum and teaching the child to study independently and enable him to get good results in the school leaving examinations and thus accede to further education.

Computer Classes

This class was started on popular demand by the children, who are fascinated by computers. Thanks to some generous donors we have 5 computers. The children enjoy these classes immensely and always ask for more.

Spoken English:

This class was launched in April 2010.
The main focus in the English classes is as follows:
Encourage the child to use language in speech to express feelings and opinions, to reach out to others, and thus slowly accept English as a means of communication.
Emphasis is laid on motivating the child to use language even if there are errors. Correction is incorporated gradually and gently.
The classes have been a huge success but the departure of the teacher and shortage of funds have forced us to suspend them for the time being.

Environment and awareness

The first issues taken were water and plastic as well as cleanliness of the surroundings. This is particularly relevant as the centre is located in a village where access is trough a small lane replete with buffaloes. Children were also encouraged to plant some green plants and learn to tend to them and respect them.

Water and the plastic menace are issues that are discussed on a daily basis as 10 minutes are set aside for this after every class. Children are encouraged to come up with their own solutions. In one case children felt that too much water was wasted while drinking water from the Mayur jug at the women centre. It was decided that children would have water drinking water breaks and these would be supervised by a class monitor! Some children have now stopped bringing plastic bags and urge their friends to do the same. Peer pressure seems to be the best way to ensure such changes! Waste water is also used to water the plants

On Saturday the children clean the surroundings of the centre. Though there was initial resistance from the community who felt that we were making children do ‘dirty’ work, we were able to convince them that this was not the case and now we find some of the older ladies helping with the cleanliness campaign!

Several issues were covered this year. Workshops on the following issues were held: Right to Education, Constitution of India, Jan Lok Pal bill etc. A sex education workshop was held for girls only.
Creative activities

Children are encouraged to express their views through essay competitions. The children were asked to write on a variety of subjects.

A six week photography workshop on the theme ‘respect’ was held in July/August for 6 children of class VII. The children exhibited their work during our 15 August celebrations and everyone was touched by the sensitivity of the pictures. These children are given cameras every day for half an hour to chronicle the activities of their centre.

Children also painted posters for the annual Pantomime show held in the UK. The theme this year was Jack and the Bean Stalk.

Children celebrated Gandhi Jayanti and Children’s Day. They made posters on the lives of Gandhi and Nehru. A science competition was also organised and the children from all classes made interesting models.
We have now decided that once a month we will organise an open day where each class will report on what they have done individually and as a class.

Sewing Classes

The classes are taught by two young ladies who did their training at our centre.
The classes are held thrice a week from 10 to 3. Timings are flexible to suit the trainees, as many have home and families to tend to. Certificates are given every six months
Some of our ex trainees are now gainfully employed. While some have taken full time employment others get contractual jobs from export houses that they do at home. The certificates help them in securing such work.

Beauty Classes

Classes are held daily and are very popular. Some trainees have secured jobs in local beauty parlours. Others work from home.

Adult education classes for women

In order to promote adult education we have made these classes compulsory for all women attending sewing and beauty classes. The classes are for 30 minutes. The women have to pass a small exam. If they do not clear it they do not receive their vocational certificate. We had to resort to this extreme measure as when the course was optional, ladies always found an excuse not to attend

Awareness within the community

Regular meetings are organised with the parents of our children. These enable us to discuss many issues: Right to Education, Corporal Punishment, Nutrition, Vaccination etc.

Counselling

Counselling is done on a case-to-case basis. It maybe counselling the children on issues like stealing, fighting, lying etc or counseling parents. Recently one of our student’s got an opportunity to learn classical music, something he was very interested in. The father was against the idea but we managed to convince him. Young Parveen performed in public at a recent show.

Challenges

Rent raise:  With the construction a metro line in the vicinity, rents in Khader village have shown an exponential increase. Most of our children are from migrant labour families and lived till date in rented rooms in the village. Many have had to relocate in cheaper areas leading to the children having to leave the centre. We too fear that our landlord may soon do the same.

Girl child:
Education of girls in India has always been a challenge particularly in underprivileged homes. When a girl is born the main worry of her parents is to start saving for her marriage. Education is secondary. Hence girls are sometimes not sent to school and even if they are the school is not a priority. Often girls are held back at home for household chores or to look after younger siblings. We even have 6 years old looking after their little brothers or sisters.
We even lost two of our brightest girls as they were sent to the village to look after their ageing grandparents!
Gender equality is one of the issues that we raise both with the children and during parents meeting and community awareness meetings.

No fail policy
The new education policy voted this year stipulates that no child will fail till class VIII. This child friendly policy works well in good schools where internal assessment in house monitoring ensures that children learn. In state run schools however there is no teaching at all and children are pushed from class to class. If some kind of support is not given the children from underprivileged homes will remain practically illiterate! This makes our role more challenging and important.

Social issues.
In spite of our having been on the field for almost three years we realise that social change is slow to come and has to be pursued with patience and determination. Issues like beating of children in homes, limiting the size of the family, early marriage of girls, domestic violence are those we try to address relentlessly.

SUCCESS STORIES

Neetu is 20 and passed her class XII. She has 5 siblings. She is physically handicapped because of polio. After the death of her father she was terribly depressed, as she did not see what her future would be. She joined us as a crèche aide but then went on to complete her beautician training. When our previous teacher left we decided to give her a chance and employed her. Today she runs our beautician programme with flair and commitment; Neetu has reason to smile again.

Sonia is self-taught. Her father runs a small tea stall and the family is poor. Sonia wants to do a BA in Education but did not want to be a burden for her father. She completed a computer course in an NGO but no one was willing to give her a job as she did not have the right social profile. We did. Today she can aspire to her dreams.

Geeta has passed her class XII and done a Teacher’s Training Course. She is 36 and has two children. Her husband is a drunk and does not earn anything. Geeta bears all expenses of the home and is always in financial straits.  Her in-laws are no support at all. She came for her job and we gave her one. She is our secondary teacher and a very good one. Now she can support her family and above all the education of her children.


Bhuvnashewari is in class 3 and is 13. For along time she could not go to school because her parents were construction workers working at different places. Now her father has got a job and the mother still works on sites. Bhuvnashewari does all the housework, washes clothes, cooks and cleans. If things are not done properly, she is beaten by her mother. But she has dreams and wants to study and be a doctor. Will we be able to fulfil her dreams.

Rakhi is 21 and cleans people’s home and cooks for them. She wants to study and comes to the centre in the afternoons. She had always wanted to go to regular school but never could as her family needed her support and she began to work at the age of 7. She lives in rented premises and her dream is to one day own a small house.

Shezadi is 17 and has 5 siblings. She works in people’s home since the age of 10 and has never been to school. Her father is a construction worker. She had always wanted to study and be doctor or teacher to earn enough money to look after her mother who is ailing. She comes to our centre to be able to learn and perhaps change her life.

Amita is 15 and lives with her uncle and aunt. Her father lives in Nepal and she has 6 siblings. She was sent here to earn and send money to her village as her father is ailing and the sisters need to be married. She comes to our adult education class and dreams of being a teacher.

IMPACT
Stitching Classes:
Madhu Singh, Hansa Devi, Indira Yadav , Savitri Kumari and Bhavna are now  able to add to the family income by bringing contract work at home!
Chanda and Asha now employed in export houses.

Drop out rates.
Drop out rates have been arrested and our children are often topping their classes.

Empowerment of women
Village women are now coming out of their homes to acquire a skill. We hope this is the first step towards their empowerment

Social impact
The village is inhabited by people of different castes and communities. There are even separate areas for each caste/community. However at project why they all come under one roof to learn, thus breaking age-old barriers. This is very encouraging as women who never spoke to each other are doing so and who knows maybe friendships are being formed.
 Celebrating Gandhi Jayanti
English medium stars
Girl and the broom
Incredible team
On borrowed time

THE FUTURE

We hope to be able to continue our work for years to come, as true change cannot be achieved in a limited time. To see the real impact of our programmes, be it with children, women or the community we need to be able to carry on our activities for at least some more years. This would enable us to work out a transition where the community itself will be empowered enough to spearhead activities and generate resources. Otherwise our work would have been in vain.
However the past year has been a difficult one and the next one looks bleak. Unless we get some firm commitments we might have to close some sections of our project.
I just hope it does not come to that!

The modus operandi is spelt out in a recent article in a leading weekly that gives the findings of a recent survey. The survey found that class nine students of Ashapuri High School, Patan, were unable to do simple arithmetic problems. When questioned they said that they were brought to the school just two days earlier.The government gives schools 04.50 per student for mid-day meal, besides 3kg rice every month. As per the norms, each school should have one teacher for every 50 students and the salary starts at Rs:14,000. Nashik has 5,154 schools and 12,14,000 students are on the rolls. But nearly one lakh students were absent during the inspection. More shocking was the absence of 667 teachers and 234 non-teaching staff. So far, government funds to the tune of Rs:1,233 crore have allegedly been swindled by the managements of these schools. Get the picture. You have loads of fake students and encash all the government goodies.

Our politicians have really mastered the art of swindling. Wish they mastered the art of ruling as well. Wishful thinking I guess. But let us go back to our story and understand what it actually means. Simply education denied to thousands of children who could have benefited from the hijacked funds. But that is not all. What is truly disturbing is the fact that education is now viewed simply as a means to gain money. At one end of the spectrum you have uber rich schools that charge astronomical amounts and at the other schools that are abysmal or even worse that simply do not exist! No one is really interested in imparting education at all. And NO one cares about the teaching children.

This fact was highlighted in another article this week on home schooling an option that sensible educated parents are opting for as no really lessons are learnt in schools that are obsessed by numbers: be it pupils or marks! But this option is for a very few very privileged children.

For the past 12 years project why has been trying to bridge the gap and the bittersweet reality is that it has managed to do so quite well with very meagre resources. Every year scores of children have learnt and achieved: be it in their school examinations or in the dreaded Board examinations. I say bittersweet because though we celebrate every single achievement with pride and joy we cannot for get the millions of children who are deprived of quality education or of any education at all.

Manu and Father Xmas

Xmas is around the corner. The children of our special class are busy decorating their tree.
Xmas has always been festive time in the special section. A time for joy and cheer. A time for goodies and presents, a time of laughter and giggles. Every year the children trim their tree with love and care, each one making a unique ornament and hanging it. How can I forget the time when Munna decided to hang a simple white sock. Somehow that sock looked just right! Yet this year it will not be quite the same. Manu is no more be with us.

I can never forget the Xmas when Santa came to town. It was pure magic. Each and everyone had his or her special moment with Santa. Manu did too. I still wonder what the two of them shared but I am sure it was something incredibly precious.
To me Manu epitomized the spirit of Xmas as his existence was nothing short of a miracle. It was the indubitable proof that every human life, no matter how wretched, is to be cherished and celebrated as every life has been crafted with a purpose that needs to be discovered. Manu’s was to seed project why! How blessed he was, and how blessed was I to have stumbled upon him. He became the spirit of pwhy and my inner strength. When he was around nothing was impossible.

This Xmas my thoughts go to him, to all that remained unsaid because I felt there was enough time, that he would always be there with us. Did I ever expressed the immense gratitude I felt for all that Manu gave me. I do not think so. Perhaps it is only after he left for a better world that I truly realised all that he had bestowed upon me. With him around it was Xmas everyday! There was not a single day when I was not treated to one of Manu’s special smiles. Even if he was in a bad mood, and that happened quite often, the moment I walked in his face would light up. On better days he would ask me to come near him. He would sometimes gently touch my face or tap the space next to him asking me to sit. And my heart would melt and tears well in my eyes. If he was eating, he would immediately hold out his hand and share his treat. I can never forget the first time he did that, way back in 2000. It was a very privileged and blessed moment for the both of us.

Yes I owe a lot to Manu and it is time I expressed it with the hope that wherever he is, he will find the time to stop and hear me. Manu gave a purpose to my life. He made me discover a part of me I did not know existed. He gave me strength to take on impossible challenges and fulfill them, he made my most far fetched dreams possible, even the one of giving him a home till death did us part. He actually made this happen far too soon. Sometimes I feel he was an angel sent by the God of Lesser beings to hold my hand and show me the way. How do you pay such a debt of gratitude.

Manu was to me what the fox was to the Little Prince. He taught me the true meaning of ‘seeing with your heart’, a lesson engraved in my soul forever. From the instant I met him, my life was never  the same: it has been gently infused by all that is good and pure. Manu was a saintly soul and I fortunate to have loved him.

His legacy is huge and sacred. I hope I am able to honour his memory in every way possible. This Xmas I feel his presence around me. It is time to murmur the ‘thank you’ that remained far too long in my heart.

Merry Xmas!

I have spent sleepless nights wondering just that. It is like Sophie’s choice. Which child of yours do you execute? How do you go about making such a decision. Do you apply logic or reason when all that matters is the heart? I do not know. As I lie awake I try and imagine the almost apocalyptic scenario I will need to write. Logic says ‘close the creche’, most of children come from a slum where we do not have any primary programme and thus ‘lose’ the kids after the 2 or 3 years they spend with us. Easily said. But the moment I visualise this option I see all the little faces and huge eyes that greet me every morning with a smile that warms the cockles of my heart and makes all problems vanish. The smiles mutate into incomprehension and then hurt and I break up in a cold sweat. Logic says ‘close the special section; it is the least cost effective’. Easily said again. But the moment I allow myself to wander that way Manu’s gentle face appears in front of me and I am reminded of the silent promise to him and his ilk. Wasn’t I the one who pledged a life and death with dignity to those rejected by all.

The tussle between logic and heart goes on relentlessly. Logic says ‘cut the project in half’, the heart retorts which children and teachers will you sacrifice. Whose dreams will you fulfill? Whose job will you save? The questions are merciless, unending and terrifying.

Morning always dawns after such nights. Reality bites again. The situation remains unchanged. The missing numbers loom large. How will we get through this month, and the next and the next. Something will have to be done, sooner than later unless a miracle comes our way. But will it?

No, I am not OK!