I thought she would make it… but a few hours after I wrote this, she moved on and left this world. The doctors said she died of pneumonia and malnutrition. Come to think about it Pooja died starved of love. Her mother had abandoned her and her father had no time for her. She died because she intuitively knew that she was a burden to all.

Pooja tiptoed out of this world just like little Sandhya had, leaving many questions begging for answers. One again I guess, death was the kindest gift that the God of lesser children could have granted this unloved child. I wonder what would have been her life in a land where Goddesses are worshiped but little girls are not wanted.

We came to know later that the woman who had ‘adopted’ Pooja, was not quite the kind woman we thought she was. She sought such kids and then used them in different ways to earn her living. Pooja was lucky that our centre was close to were she lived as she could for a few hours just be a child. I shudder to think what would have awaited her in years to come.

Yet over the years I have leaned to look at life through a wider angle. Had the woman not come into Pooja’s life her fate would have been worse. She may have helped her father who panhandles for a living and then fritters his earnings on hooch, drugs or women, or she would have landed in some state run institution where life is dark and abysmal. Pooja could never have aspired to what life normally has in store for girls born on the other side of a fence: a loveless marriage and early motherhood laced with the acceptability that comes from wedlock. At best she may have been sold into a life of abuse. At least for some time she was cared for, just like the proverbial goat being readied for slaughter.

Pooja has left many questions that need answers and yet have none. Her death has brought to the fore the total helplessness that one feels in the wake of such tragedy and makes one wonder what one could have done or could do. Barring the few hours we can give a child in despair, we have little to offer. And yet at times like this one knows that something has to be done.

It is at time like these that the need to set up planet why seems urgent. If it did exist than may Poojas could have found a shelter and protection. If it did exist than maybe we would be able to open our eyes and hearts wider and reach out to those no one wants.

When a few days back I sent out myriad of emails in all directions seeking help to salvage a dream that was threatening to melt away into oblivion I was overwhelmed with the words of support and encouragement I received. Among them was a poem of which I quote a few lines:

The words gave me great solace and the courage to survive the moment and not give up. Days passed. Deals were renegotiated. Time was bought. We had barely 6o days to save our dream. Another desperate mail was sent once again.

How I wish I had 20/30 or the whole 80 lacs said one of the answers and I was moved to tears. I could not imagine what was to ensue. A day or two later another mail from my dear friend Abhigyan simply said Let’s make a mailer on the book offer and send it out all our contacts. explaining your cause and also the offer.

Before I go further let me explain: Abhigyan wears many hats, and one of them is that of a publisher who recently launched his very own publishing house aptly named Undercover Utopia. Before I could catch my breath again another mail confirmed that the show was on the road,. Undecover Utopia had decided to save our dream by offering all the 4 books of their collection at half price and donating half of that to save pwhy’s dream.

Words are inadequate to express what I feel. I believe that the only way to salute this beautiful gesture is to ensure it meets with complete success, not so much for the dream fulfilled, but because it is an expression of all that is good in our world, something we see so little of!

I could not end this post without mentioning the books on offer. I have read and enjoyed them all. However one of them – Soul Search Engine – has stirred my soul. Read it, it is unique and everyone’s story and perhaps throws some insight into why there are some who dare walk the road less travelled.

Soul Search Engine ends with these words: “Creation is a manifestation of the one’s many ideas… every idea one step away from being alone… The meaning is for us to discover. Creation is only a stimulus. All we have to do is respond. And respond well. Everything is a great question waiting for a great answer.” Al Raines (Soul Search Engine).

Treat yourself to a unique experience and help us save our dream.

Was it just a month ago that we at pwhy were all set to launch a new project. A very ambitious one I must confess and one that was not quite our own I must also admit. It all began with an idea suggested by an erstwhile well wisher, one that was so daunting that we quickly suggested a trial version as we were a little apprehensive.

What ensued was rather peculiar. As we began giving life to this idea, our resolve strengthened whereas the commitment of its initiator began to wane rapidly. I presume this happened because we were looking at different ends of the same issue.

The once intimidating thought of giving deprived children a go at the best education possible looked eminently doable. The enthusiasm of both parents and children gave the encouragement we needed to surmount whatever obstacles came our way. Necessary course corrections were made and our minds wide open to new ones if need be. That was the view from one side

From the other side things looked different. What had seemed as a win-win situation, a panacea for all ills, a great way to change society when conceived in thought started losing its shine as it was shared with others in a attempt to secure the much needed financial support for such a programme. As numbers were stated, doubts started emerging: how could one envisage spending so much for a poor kid!

The tune seemed too familiar and the conclusion foregone, the idea once held as path breaking was now found preposterous, one that needed to be quickly dropped. The fears recently voiced raised their head again bringing to the fore the invisible yet impregnable line that divides our society.

One could have comfortably slunk back into earlier days and carried on as if nothing had occurred but that would have been perfidious as one cannot put back the clock. How can one take away the hope one so patiently instilled in parents; how does one wish away the sparkle that one sees in the eyes of the children when one talks about the new project, one just has to begin.. again!

How I wish I had 10/20 lakhs to spare if not the whole 80! These heartwarming words dropped into my mailbox shortly after my appeal for help. They may seem anodyne to some, empty to others, and to yet others as futile as the famed if wishes were horses.. But to me these simple words are the expression of the immense love and unstinted trust that have come our way since the day we took our first hesitant step on the journey called project why and has made our every wish a reality.

Our steps grew bolder, our dreams larger and each one was backed by a wonderful network of people who saw with their hearts and never turned their back on us. Hearts were mended, hopes fulfilled and new ones crafted, and challenges accepted with new found conviction as there was always someone out there who came forward and embraced them with us.

And along the way came the ultimate dream: planet why, one that would make us come full circle and above all provide a befitting finale to my swan song. It was a dream I started sharing with all those who had made pwhy possible, hesitantly at first but as days went by with more confidence and even temerity.

Today the dream seems a reality within our reach. True that some minor hiccups came our way, but none big enough to make us stop, let alone lose faith. Once again I have been overwhelmed by the spontaneous offers of help that have come our way. True that they may seem small or even insignificant when viewed against the target we have to meet but that is only if you look at them with your eyes. When you look with your heart, each one of them is priceless.

Some have offered whatever they could spare, others have proffered words of support and encouragement that infuse us with the strength to go on. A publisher friend offered us a 50% of sale profits of books sold to pwhy supporters and donors. Many have donned their thinking caps and are brainstorming about ways to raise money. Across the world, a bevy of project why supporters are at work to make planet why come true.

How I wish I had.. are not empty words at all.

It is with the spirit of the soldiers of the Light Brigade that we have set out to raise the funds needed to secure the piece of land that came our way almost by miracle. When we began this daunting task we were needless to say petrified. This was way out of league. But two days later we find ourselves armed with newfound confidence as the 10 lacs needed to buy us two months of reprieve landed our way not as a loan, but as a donation from two wonderful souls that have always been there for us.

We now need to raise the remaining money. Easier said than done. But one look at the kids in the picture is enough to fuel us with determination and courage. To many the picture may seem innocuous, just a bunch of kids enjoying a picnic. Let me unravel the reality that lies behind. Most of these children are what is in our day and age called differently abled. Preeti who sits on the table walks on her hands, Sapna sitting in front is 12 though she looks 5. Champa whose smile is larger than life was abused, Ruchi will soon be unable to walk as she suffers from a debilitating neurological syndrome.. the list is endless each child in this picture has a future in jeopardy, held by a tenuous link: the life span of a mother. Oops I forgot there are two little girls in the picture who are wat one says in common parlance normal. Yashu who has been celebrating her birthdays for now five years with hers special pals, and Kiran who has known them since she was a baby.

Yesterday was Yashu’s birthday and our special kids had a day out at Dilli Hath. Like regular kids they played, blew candles, sang, ate cake and got return gifts. They too had bought their gift: beautiful cards they had made with love and care.

Most of these kids will grow up and one day become differently abled adults.. While differently abled kids are cute, adults are not. They become the butt of ridicule and are often derided and pilloried. It is a sad and harsh reality that often after the death of their parents, such children are rejected by heir won families. That is what happened to Manu who in spite of having a family was left to roam the streets and beg. Planet Why is for each one of them, as they grow old and lose all hope. It is to ensure that they live with dignity, surrounded by love and care and tended to till they move on.

We have 70 days to make this come true. Not much time but when one looks at these wonderful children one knows that we have to do it, come what may.

The last few days have been spent trying to comprehend what befell us. One day everything and more seemed going our way; the next we were struggling to hold on to a dream in peril. No matter which way one looked at it and how much one beat one’s self, it was impossible to find a reason that would explain, appease and lead us to accept the situation we found ourselves in and walk away.

We just took some time licking our wounds, regrouping and drawing new battle plans. We knew it was not time to recriminate neither was it time to accept defeat. We needed to review the situation and make the last ditch effort to salvage it.

The bottom line was that we found ourselves in a situation we had never faced in the past. A set of unforeseen circumstances had made the dream of owning a piece of land a reality, albeit a tenuous one. To make it happen we need to raise a whopping 70 lacs in two months. Our track record in raising funds is poor as we have always been a hand to mouth organisation. Our ability to meet our needs is best described as a constant struggle. Yet today we cannot give up and need to reinvent ourselves. Too much is at stake.

The piece of land holds the key to securing the dreams and hopes we have nurtured for almost a decade. What makes them precious is that they were not conjured by the ones who will benefit, but stars that we put into their eyes, thus making us responsible and answerable.

What lies ahead is our ability to secure a loan and then set about repaying it. A Case for Planet Why has been drafted and is being sent out to everyone we know. New ideas for funding are being mooted and discussed and will be executed. Should we not do so, then all past efforst would be in vain.

My mind goes back to the Charge of The Light Brigade

Last Friday our very special friend Andy had a haircut. But this was no ordinary haircut. Everything about it was noteworthy. It brought together a wonderful human being from Seattle, a hearing impaired girl from a Delhi slum and a little cat who decided to grace the occasion with its presence. The location was no beauty salon or barber shop; it was the terrace of the pwhy building!

It all began in our special section with Andy tugging at his growing locks and someone suggesting he have a haircut. Rinky our resident beauty consultant who is not only a trained beautician and hair artist but has now almost one year of work experience immediately offered to do the needful. In our own inimitable yet eloquent sign language she offered to take him to her salon. However the suggestion was shot down as the said salon is for Ladies Only and Andy’s presence there would have been anathema!

After much deliberation a solution was found. The haircut would be done at pwhy itself and the terrace was the designated salon of the day. So come Friday our tiny terrace was converted into a barber shop and Andy got his haircut! For Rinky it was a very important and serious moment. It was the very first time she was cutting a man’s hair. But Rinky is one of a kind and she set out to accomplish her task with professional prowess and extreme composure and the result was quite stunning. Even the little cat was impressed.

It was yet another perfect moment; one that can only happen at pwhy!

There are moments at pwhy which are incredible and moving. These are the moments that make you forget all the bad times, the struggle, the dejection, the angst that is part of any one engaged in the kind of work we do and these are the tiny cameos that make it all worthwhile.

Courtesy our dynamic volunteer Mathilde the special section of pwhy has been having weekly karate classes. As the class has children with are differently abled to use the politically correct word, they were divided into two groups. Preeti, our spirited polio affected 12 year old, who walks with the help of her hands, was relegated to group B as the class was going to concentrate on kicks and everyone felt that was something she would not be able to do.

The class started and everyone was busy kicking. A few minutes into rthe class and Mathilde felt someone tugging at her pants. It was Preeti who wanted her attention as she set about showing off her version of kicks: furious movements of her useless leg achieved with the help of her had!

Needless to say we all felt tiny and like heels. Mathilde stopped the class as place was made in the centre for Preeti who joined the class and proved to everyone present that she was as good of not better than all of them.

We had our new Karate Kid, one who called us back to order and ensured that we did not forget that if your spirit was in he right place nothing was impossible.

Normally the first Sundays of every month are special. This is the day when the motley crew that goes under the name of ‘Utpal’s parents’ sets out for the long drive to his school and spends time with him. Every month the set of parents is different – barring a few constants – and comes from all walks of life and the world over. This Sunday too his family extended from the US to India via Italy and France!

The day was to be special as we were also planning to visit our new plot of land. After a quick visit to the school we spent some time at the site and then set off to give Mr P his monthly treat. This time after much deliberation it was to be a new mall! After a long drive and a longer wait at the new toll highway we reached the said mall. It was a strange experience as we strolled along Kafkaesque corridors interspersed with newly opened stores.

At last we found a place to eat and later the children play area. The children had their fill of games but somehow the mood was not right as Utpal kept clutching to my hand and refusing to leave me though he had to go back to school in another car. He was unusually stubborn and would not listen to any coaxing. I sat with him on a bench trying to talk to him but to no avail. It was heart wrenching as he does not normally behave that way.

I did not want to leave him and could feel my eyes welling up with tears. He looked up and saw my face and sensing my pain he just walked away towards the waiting car, clutching the little bag filled with the goodies he had bought. I just watched him walk away, wondering what was going on in his little head and not finding the answers that would quieten my mind.

We drove back in silence. I had been deeply disturbed by Utpal’s behaviour and wondered what had caused it. What had he been trying to convey? Why was I not able to sense what ailed him?
A plethora of questions crowded my mind each needing an answer but none forthcoming. Some pertained to Utpal only but others took on a wider connotation and I thought of all the little ones who would soon be in our care, each one needing much more than one could even begin to anticipate.

As long as they were left in their world, however dark and abysmal, they were protected by the ways of that very world, but once you took them away things were bound to change. With each step they take on this new journey,will come new dreams, new hopes but also new pain, grief and hurt. As they reclaim their right to be children they will need the protection and care till now denied to them in their world where all one does is simply survive. And we as adults have to play by the rules.

Is that what Utpal was trying to tell me in his own way?

Seeing Utpal is always a celebration and I must confess that since he has gone to boarding school I do miss seeing his little face and incredible smile.

Yesterday was a special day as we had to give the first instalment of our land and we all knew that this had to be done by no one else but Utpal. And though it was not PTM day, we made the necessary phone calls and got the required permissions.

We reached the school and as we sat in the reception area we soon saw Utpal strutting down the corridor all bundled up and wearing his stunning smile. Soon it was hugging and cuddling time though I could sense his almost imperceptible unease – he was now a big boy – and stopped immediately.

He sat with us at first a little self conscious as we were surrounded by teachers and staff but to my absolute delight he soon reverted to his old endearing self and asked me what I had brought for him. He smiled with glee when I handed him over his bag of goodies filled with his favourite biscuits and cookies and set about examining his booty. He then opened one packet and after eating one biscuit set off to go and share it with his pals.

Soon it was time to leave and unlike past days when parting was always difficult he waved us a cheery goodbye and set off back to the game he had left to come and meet us. I guess this time I was the one to wipe the corner of my eye but was happy to see that Utpal had settled in his new life.

This would make any teacher go ballistic and hurl a string of unkind words at the child who stands mortified not quite understanding why his valiant attempt at forming words meets such rage!

The truth is that in most cases both are right: the teacher is unaware of the problem of the child,and the child is incapable of doing better.

Most adults are not aware of learning disabilities and akin them to incompetence, sloth and even impudence. And children who are learning impaired slowly withdraw and lose all self confidence! They become failures and can rarely achieve what they are capable of. The plight of such kids was beautifully evoked in tare zameen par and I decided that all pwhy teaching staff see the movie in the hope that they would be able to understand the extent of harm that a word often said with good intentions could have on the child under their care.

I must confess that it has been an uphill task to try and get this across to my great team who often thought that I was clueless about teaching. I cannot blame them as they themselves are products of a harsh school system and even harsher home environment where verbal and physical abuse is the order of the day.

Many of the children who come to project why may not have learning disabilities but do have difficulties because of their social background, the inability of their parents to teach them and above all because of the callousness of their insensitive school teachers who have often already bruised their faltering self confidence. And yet each one had incredible potential waiting to be tapped.

So the entire staff was sent to see the film with the tacit understanding that this was not to be fun time but learning time and that there would be a brainstorming session after that. So we sat down the next day to exchange our thoughts and feelings about what we had all seen. I set the ball rolling by simply asking what they thought the film was about. As expected one of he younger teachers started by giving a summary of the film viewed from the outside. I stopped her half way and simply asked: How do you think each one of you fitted within the story?

There was a long silence some puzzled faces and then one teacher softly said: we should not use harsh words; another: every child has great potential and yet another: I saw myself in the film as this was happened to me.

These three simple comments had said it all and I realised with some satisfaction I must confess that I had finally been able to convey what I had been trying to for a long long time.

Two years ago when pwhy was facing one of its proverbial financial crisis, our indomitable friend Isabelle decided to do something. Knowing Isabelle it had to be something unique and it was. On July 29th 2006 a heart warming event was held to help pwhy survive. Since it has begun an annual event and on that day two very special souls Christophe and Judith play and dance their hearts away for children they had never met.

January 3rd 2008 was to be a very blessed day as Christophe and Judith finally met some of the children they already carried in their hearts as they found time from their busy schedule to come to pwhy. As they had little time we all went down to the special section where they children has just settled for the day. Soon copy books were cast aside and the the CD player was turned on and almost by magic these bunch of very special kids decided to say thank you in their own way by dancing for their very special friends. It did not matter whether some could not hear, or others could not walk; it did not matter if no one spoken the same language everyone decided to put their best foot forward and dance with their hearts. Even as I write these words my eyes are moist as nothing can ever truly convey what happened in those precious moments. It was a moment only for he privileged as the gods came down from heaven to be part of it.

Judith then decided to dance a Flamenco for the children and even if the guitar had been left behind Christophe provided the beat with his hands and feet. All the kids were mesmerised and I could see little feet tapping. But blessed moments come and it was soon time to say farewell. But promises were made as our hearing impaired girls who are great dancers wanted to learn the Flamenco and our friends pledged to come back.

Our camera did capture some of these moments for you

Tommy can you hear me sang the Who in their famous rock opera way back in 1970! Soon we at project why will be singing Rinky, Saheda, Pooja can your hear us!

These three lovely hearing impaired girls who have been with us now for many years will soon be able to hear thanks to some very special friends in Germany!

They will be fitted with very sophisticated hearing aids that will allow them to hear the world and learn new experiences and above all be safe!

Rinky will be able to hear her clients at the beauty parlour where she works part-time and maybe get the raise she hopes. Her walk back home late in the evening will be less frightening. Saheeda will find it easier when she joins her beauty course in March and little Pooja may be able to learn much more before she decides what she wants to do in life!

Yesterday they audiometrist came for the first measurements and it was quite an experience:

Xmas was celebrated in earnest at the women centre. There was a tree, streamers, stars and bells, pictures of Santa drawn by the kids and much merriment. There was home baked Xmas cake and presents for all.

Sophie who had planned the party made a little speech explaining what Xmas was and how it was celebrated y children in our country. I was designated to translate and began by asking the kids whether they knew what Xmas was. Most of the children at the women centre belong to poor Muslim families and rarely go beyond the streets of Madanpur Khader where shops are not decorated for Xmas and do not sell Xmas ware and hence the answer to my query was a barely audible no accompanied y a vigorous shaking of the head!

Links had to be made so I asked about Eid and then Diwali and everyone nodded and smiled and went on to say that Xmas was just like those days for people who went to church instead of temples and mosques, all homes of God. When I asked what kids ate on Eid and Diwali, pat came the answer: ladoos and sewaiyan, so cake it was for Xmas and the link was made. Xmas became something familiar and comprehensible: it was simply a matter of replacing cakes with ladoos or sewaiyan!

In many schools across our city where English is taught children are often heard singing the following prayer:

Strangely this prayer transcends all religion and faith, all social and economic barriers. Schools in remote corners of the city which boast of a sign board stating English medium have their children reciting these verse often led by a teacher who can barely articulate the words. I must confess that in our creche it is also sung with great fervour even if it sometimes difficult to differentiate the words!

I have heard it over and over again as I walk up or down the stairs of our centre but it was only yesterday evening when I was looking at the pictures of our Xmas party that the familiar tunes came to my mind as I saw the snapshot of Manu eating his meal sitting at a table and using a spoon!

My mind flashed back to the summer of 2000 when I had first seen Manu and to the words I had first written about him: Manu, a young physically and mentally challenged young man lived on the street, neglected, dirty and soiled. People would feed him but like you feed an animal. Children threw stones at him. His family abused him in all conceivable ways. No one touched him, when things became too much he would let out the most heart wrenching cries.

In many ways those cries seeded what was to become project why as we all know it now. And as I looked at the photograph of Manu sitting at a table with his friends and teachers enjoying his meal I whispered the little prayer as it conveyed what I truly felt…

Yes God thank you for everything…

Nanhe is back. After a long break.. a few months actually. Nanhe is back after long negotiations with his mom as often the battles with moms are arduous and foregone as it is almost impossible to deal with the passion and lack of logic of a mom’s love for her child.

This time the adversary was some new therapy that has taken Delhi’s slums by storm: a electronic massage gadget that claims to cure all ailments from cancer to back pain or even toothache. It comes at a cost but that cannot deter a mom’s determination. She has each day managed the needed amount and taken her child convinced that he is better and can stand on his own. Desperate moms see things we cannot.

A deal was struck. Nanhe would come to pwhy in the morning and we would ensure that he is dropped back in time for his treatment. So Nanhe and his larger than life smile walked into the class to every one’s delight. And I watched in wonder this lovely boy who is in many ways a miracle child.

Life in the past eight years has been an exhilarating roller coaster ride with a medley of wonderful experiences, sensations and events that hit us at such a staggering pace that one often did not quite have the time to savour them fully.
I guess it was because one was busy meeting every challenge forgetting to pause and enjoy the feeling of delight and thrill that came with each of them.

As I sat composing my yearly greetings mail I had by force majeure to take stock of all that had happened in the last twelve months and I was staggered at the number of miracles big and small that had come our way in this incredible journey of hope and joy. True that some or most of them did not fit the usual cannon of success but nevertheless for us they were truly wondrous.

I also realised that at some moment my life I had also stopped saying I believed in miracles as life itself was a miracle and I was busy being grateful. Somehow time seemed too short to express all the gratitude one felt, gratitude for the simplest things like the sun shining, the wind blowing; gratitude for the little smiles that greeted you every morning, for the report cards held out with pride, for the child whose heart was now fixed; for the other who spends his holidays with his healing mom; for the millions of hearts reaching out to make all this possible and above all for the privilege of being able to see witness and experience all this.

I have no time for anything else, I am simply busy being grateful.

As I sat writing my yearly greeting mail I came upon this Xmas gift suggestion from Oren Arnold: To your enemy, forgiveness. To an opponent, tolerance. To a friend, your heart. To a customer, service. To all, charity. To every child, a good example. To yourself, respect.

At first it looked like yet another corny quote that abound on the web but as I read and reread it I realised how relevant it was to the world we live in.

I presume we would all agree to this simplistic list and find it obvious but if we just pondered for a while how many of us actually comply with it. When was the last time we actually truly forgave someone or for that matter practices tolerance? I wonder.

But what really rung true for me was the good example to every child. Just last week we saw the the senseless gunning down of a teenager by his classmate and once again one realised the total absence of role models that children could emulate?

But it is the last word of this quote that should set us thinking. Do we really respect ourselves for if we did the world would be a different place where tolerance, forgiveness, charity, good service and god example would come by naturally.

The news was like a bolt out of the blue: Shalini was leaving the centre. In her own way had tried to convey this to us a few days back; we just thought she was going off for a few days to the village or a wedding like so many times earlier. But this was not quite that. Her family had sold their house and bought another one in a far off area and so Shalini would not be able to come to pwhy!

For all of us at pwhy, and particularly for her teachers and friends in the special section it was a great shock. Shalu is one of our oldest students and somehow an integral part of this very cherished class. Her warm nature, her even warmer smile, her incessant blabber, her passion for dancing, her eagerness to help , her genial disposition, her fond hugs had become part and parcel if our lives and are going to be painfully missed. True that she had temper fits and bad moments but even those had become dear to us as they were part of who Shalini was.

As we all set down to come to terms with her departure it almost felt as if a chapter was closing for us. Something yet intangible had come upon us and we all knew that things would not quite be the same.

Shalini’s hurried departure also brought forth another reality that sadly pervades the lives of children with disabilities: they are never part of important decisions that families take and their well being is never a mater of concern. Shalini is in her thirties but to her family she is unimportant. The area the family is shifting to has no option for her and she will now be relegated to the confines of her new home. She will lead a lonely life and become more difficult to handle. And sadly there is nothing we can do.

It is a times like these that I realise how important it is for us to set up planet why as that would be a happy option for persons like Shalu. I do hope that it will become a reality soon!

PS: just heard that Shalu could no quite fathom the meaning of the farewell party as she was convinced she would be back the next day.

Yesterday a leading TV channel called asking whether they could film lunchtime at pwhy! This was for a segment in a daily lunchtime programme that highlights the lunch hour in different parts of the city. I guess someone decided that it would be good copy to go and peep at the other side of the fence: the slum kids.

Now at pwhy the only kids who stay the full day are the special ones and they are the ones who have lunch. So I told the young ebullient reporter that we would love to have them come by and share a meal with our special bacchas! Though we were on talking on the phone, I could sense the moment of hesitation and ensuing awkwardness. I could imagine the million unformulated questions that were crowding his mind as sadly one knows what images the word special or disabled or even handicapped – however politically incorrect – conjure in people’s mind. But I was not the one to give up.

After a mumbled I will get back to you the phone went dead. Shamika who is a very possessive mother figure to her brood of 20, was up in arms but I held on and redialled the number as I remembered that Saturday was cooking day at the special section and delectable aloo paranthas were on the menu. I also told the reporter that these children were just like other kids and though they may not have the same way of communicating as us, they were totally able to express their feelings. Less than a month back they had hosted a group of special children from France and shared a great meal with them!

There was another I need to check with my producer and will get back to you but blissfully some time later a confirmation call came and our bacchas will hopefully be part of that programme.

I have often quoted the lines the fox told the little prince in St Exupery’s memorable work: It is only with the heart that one can see rightly; what is essential is invisible to the eye. Never were these words more relevant than yesterday when a group of children with disabilities came all the way from France to visit project why.

It all began when a group of students from a special school in Paris decided to do a project on India. As they set about discovering India, one of their teachers decided to ask someone to talk about India and it was our very own xavier who was the chosen one. Not only did he talk about India but also about pwhy.

What happened next was nothing sort of incredible. Someone suggested a visit to India and project L’Inde en roues libres – freewheeling India – was born. It did not matter if all seemed impossible, life is made of dreams and dreams need to become reality.

That is how 8 young French students with various disabilities spent a stupendous morning and shared an awesome meal with 18 Indian kids with disabilities. It was a huge moment where nothing could come in the way of the perfect bonding that happened between these two groups. there were no barriers neither language nor country. Only one thing prevailed: love and understanding. There was dancing and music, laughter and moist eyes, hugging and embracing. the excitement was palpable, the mood upbeat. All disabilities were forgotten and impossible dreams crafted: a visit to France next year. Why not! One has to hold on to dreams, and hold on to them tight. Who cared about passports and visas or the mind boggling costs.

The most touching moment for me was when Champa, who is our most simple minded kid beamed at her new french friends and said: come to my home. Who cared at that instant that her home was a tiny black hovel, it was by far the most generous and heartfelt invitation.

For all these children who though from divergent worlds suffer the same rejection and contempt it was a special moment: one lot suddenly found they could reach out and help, the other realised they could have friends from another world. And for that tiny moment the world seemed perfect! The rest of the world could think whatever they wanted, these kids had claimed their right to live life at his best and even dream.

Of all the special moments that we have lived at pwhy, this was by far the most monumental as it vindicated much of what we beleive in and have fought for. And as we waved bye bye to our new friends, we all knew that we would meet again, and perhaps in paris, who knows. Only time will tell.

You can share some of these very special moments here.

It was dancing time in the special section and as usual every one was dancing. Did not matter if you could not stand or walk, you had to dance!

Preeti cannot stand and walks with the help of her hands, but she too loves dancing. Komal decided to join the party. She is 15 months old and is our youngest creche student. As no one was quite her size she walked to Preeti and started dancing with her. To Komal it did not matter if Preeti was different, she looked at her with the wisdom of the young and found her ideal partner.