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

When I was a little girl and things looked bad, my papa used to talk about the big picture. It was his way of explaining to his hurting child that what seemed dark and gloomy at that moment was actually a tiny part of a big picture full of colour and light that we could not see. It was his way of explaining the mystery of life, the presence of a higher Being and the reason of the fleeting woe.

The little girl was satisfied and ran off with a smile on her face. The teenager was more difficult to assuage and did turn rebellious but ultimately had to concede to its wisdom, the woman found the solace she often needed. The big picture became a part of my life and I found myself often referring to it to explain situations that defied logic.

Yet when I was dealt with a blow recently I was momentarily taken aback and wallowed in despair, giving undue importance to what was just one tiny splash of dark hue on the harlequin picture that I conveniently had obliterated. My thoughts ran helter-skelter trying to reverse the situation forgetting that time moves but in one direction. For that moment in time I had forgotten all about the big picture.

But mercifully better set prevailed. I must have given my frenzied mind a tiny break as I found myself hearing my papa whisper “look at the big picture“. I had forgotten all about it in the moment I needed it the most. We often are guilty of not practicing what we so readily preach. I remember some years back when I was trying to battle local slumlords and wondering why we had been hit by such a storm, a friend simply reminded me that one should not bang one’s head on a close door but simply look for an open window. Yet one often realises that in spite of the all the wisdom one pretends to have, one easily forgets past lessons.

I am at a crossroad I stood at before. Sadly so lost was I in my hubris that I forgot to make a simple journey into past days to imbibe lessons once learnt and draw strength from the fact that we moved on and prospered as somewhere the big picture stood strong.

I know that in spite of the gloom that surrounds me and threatens to devour me, it is just part of a big picture I cannot see but know exists. The storm will blow, the clouds lift and the big picture will once again manifest itself in all its glory. One just has to hold on.

Anything that does not grow dies where the words almost whispered by S, as I sat helpless hearing the ominous words that were slowly but surely obliterating my carefully constructed dream of many moons. A dream that perhaps seeded when the little face on this picture had lost his smile or maybe the day I first heard Manu’s heart wrenching cries.

The dream at first was barely coherent but it lived for a long time in my heart, a disquieting reminder that something was missing in the work I was engaged in. An intangible prompting urging me to conjure the absent link that would complete the picture.With each passing day and ensuing task the dream was spurred on and started assuming substance and form and above all a name. I simply called it planet why and to me it was just a logical extension of project why. And though by force majeure it could not be located in close proximity to pwhy, it shared the same spirit and was fired with the same passion and motivation. If project why was a place where dreams were crafted , planet why was where they remained safe.

As I sat defenseless watching my dream dissolve, my mind set on a frantic flight seeking desperate answers: where had I gone wrong; what had I missed; why was this happening. A new why that had to be answered as in it lay the safety of all the answers we had sought till now. It had all seemed flawless, cogent… The assault of words carried on mercilessly barely giving me time to keep up. The place was too far, the staff was not willing, the idea had not been shared, people had not been heard… I listened in silence, holding on the tears that were threatening to fall as words the heart could not express.

It was then time for alternatives, suggestions, other possibilities..

I sat and heard them all, processing them to the best of my ability and attempting to see if they could replace the dream. Anything that does not grow dies and yet each option proffered excluded growth and though attractive in the present moment was doomed to die. Something needed to be done, the dream had to be saved, too much depended on it.

A day has gone by. I have tried to process all I heard. I must admit that much of what was said made sense when considered within the realm of today: the today that hues the reality we see: the choice of place does seem incongruous for a guest house we hope to fill to capacity. The distance seems alarming to anyone who simply walks to work. The list goes on: it is true that I bear the guilt of pushing my ideas and not giving time for people to react. It is also true that I often do not word things appropriately. Whatever the reasons and the past errors it is not time for recriminations but time to come together in solidarity as no matter how perfect a dream it cannot become reality without the conviction of all concerned.

However as one held guilty I think I do have the right to pen a defense. Planet Why came to be because one took a quantum leap into the future in more ways than one. I understand that there is a sense of comfort and reassurance in the present day scenario. Pwhy looks manageable and viable. Planet why was conceived for the day when the need may be felt for a larger place that one owns and where one can grow; the day when all are tired of seeking rented space or angry at seeing our special kids now adults not being welcome. Come that day land would be a chimera. Our rock pile was certainly what not I would have wanted had I got all the cards in my hand but was the only one that fitted our tight pockets and one that is poised for a sparkling make over. One can never chose the ideal situation and perhaps the end of a dream came because we do not have the ability to look at the future.

I also fully comprehend that no one would like to invest in a dream that looks very fragile and shaky at present and deprived of its sustainability element planet why loses its raison d’etre and looks like yet another liability. I more than anyone am loath to take on any more than we have. The task of meeting the present requirement is already weighing on my tiring shoulders so I should be the one to refuse any added burden. Then why am I finding it almost impossible to let the dream go? Why is it that just like on many occasions in the past when my team seemed reluctant to take on an new task, I feel compelled to soldier on. There is no urgency, no child hurting, no cause to defend and yet the drive is much the same.

I know no one wants to see pwhy die for want of combattants to use the famous quote from Corneille (Le Cid Act IV, Scene I) and yet unless we think of a doable alternative this may just happen. In my 9 years of begging I have seen that if there is nothing new on offer, sources dry out. One has to reinvent oneself all the time even if it means taking on a new responsibilities. Once again we are faced with the sustainability issue. And one again I am at a loss. And yet anything that does not grow dies

Some ideas were mooted but quite frankly each seemed daunting. One of them was that of ISR (Individual Social responsibility). I have been saddened by the total lack of heart I see and the total lack of compassion. I had placed great hopes in my one rupee a day dream hoping it would change attitudes. I was shocked at myself when as I sat redoing my website I wondered whether it still had a place in it. The ISR idea was welcome but then why did it seem jaded.

As I write these words I am at a loss to find answers and yet they need to be found as this is surely the most important why in our journey.

To many die hard project why supporters planet why is an aberration. I can understand their reaction as at first sight the two may seem totally incompatible. I beg their indulgence and beseech them to keep in mind that both emanate from the same source and have come in much the same way.

If project why saw the light of the day as a result of a chance encounter with Manu when a deafening loud why screamed for an answer that needed to be found, planet why was perhaps conceived more gently as a result of a string of quieter whys in no way less poignant.

Fate has played a curious role in my quest for answers to disturbing questions that have come my way in the bemusing journey called project why. It has set the course of this journey and steered it in directions that I could not have anticipated.

The vision of a man hobbling into my office with the help of a huge stick led us to create our heartfix hotel. At first this new venture of ours did seem to many yet another aberration. Such large sums of money to be spent on saving one child, a child whose future was uncertain, one that would just become one of the many millions barely surviving. Yet we did not give up and today over a dozen such children have had another go at life waiting for their destinies to unfold.

To some our decision of putting Utpal in a boarding school and helping his mom overcome a severe addiction and a debilitating psychological ailment was one more exorbitant deviation, but we again stood by what we believed to be right. To us it was simply a matter of finding the right answer to yet another why, a why that we never went seeking but that came our way as if guided by an invisible hand.

Hence slowly project why took a life of its own, one that often defied all logic, but one that I knew was the work of a far greater force. Time carried its inexorable course. Project why grew from why to why and with it the realisation of its extreme fragility and precarious nature that rested on the failing shoulders of an aging being bringing the inevitable question of its ability to fulfill all the responsibilities that laid upon it. What would become of the Manus that had come its way and of the hopes and dreams so tenderly nurtured.

Yet another answer needed to be found and it was planet why: a place where dreams would be secure. The journey seemed to be reaching its logical end. But fate once again, or the unseen hand, decided otherwise. The sheer magnitude of what was at stake was frightening and yet not accepting the challenge would have gone against everything we had stood for till then and negated the very spirit of project why.

To me project and planet why are intrinsically linked; the only difference being that the later has to have the ability of outlive me, and hence have foundations solid enough to weather any storm that may come its way.

I was recently asked to write a blurb that would describe project why. I knew this was no mean task as in many ways pwhy defies all logic and all attempts at containing it within any limits are vain.

I did set about trying to find the few words that would at best describe who and what we are and was soon lost in the maze of all the things we have done in the past 8 years. Are we an education oriented organisation; but then why do we fix broken hearts. Are we a children’s organisation then why do we reach out to women? Are we based in Delhi, then why do we help children like the ones in this picture?

Risteh, Yogita and Rahul live in Rohtak. They are very bright kids and are doing extremely well in their studies. A few months back their father, a mechanic in an elecronic shop, suffered a major accident that left him incapacitated and hence he lost his work and the ability to earn again. He was the sole earner of he family. Their mother who is illiterate can barely bring food on the table. Their school fees were not paid. And they were on the verge of being thrown out. Their plight was brought to our notice quite back accident. Needless to say we decided to help them could we have done otherwise.

So coming back to trying to seek a set of parameters that would define project why should we say that we are an organisation that functions by accident and twists of fate. Not a very pretty picture ans certainly not one that would endear us to anyone. And yet is not true that it all began because of one day Manu came into our lives by accident..

I would rather think of these as a series of serendipities that are orchestrated by the ones that I like calling the God of Lesser Beings, the one to whom distraught mothers send desperate prayers and who works in his own ways.

So are we just an answer to prayers? I guess not as that would not explain planet why or the foster care programme as these emanate from our own desires and dreams. I guess I will one again have to go back to the Little Prince and the Fox and their secret and simply say:

Project why is where you see with your heart!

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!

Citizen why is the name of a new blog created by our dear friend and supporter Andy. The base line of the blog says: A place for the people of Planet Why to share their stories.

I met Andy a few months back on the net, in one of those dark moments when one is desperately looking for help wondering how one would get through the night. Andy immediately offered to help, and as time went on I found myself sharing may of my dreams with him.

Andy was perhaps the first one who urged me to hold on to my dreams, particularly the one of seeing planet why become a reality and promised to help in any way possible. he even wrote: As things move forward on Planet Why I’d love to come and visit to help in person, if that would be alright.

True to his promise Andy came and is now an integral part of pwhy. When he suggested he start a blog where those who came to planet why could share their thoughts and stories, I was thrilled as I have always held that pwhy is what it is because of the spirit and love of all those who have come by and shared some time with us, all the precious Citizens of the incredible place that is planet why!

As I read the first posts on this new blog, I also realised what an invaluable mine of knowledge it would be for us, as we see pwhy through fresh eyes and become aware of things that we did not know and look at ourselves as others see us!

Thank you Andy!

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?

When one embarks on a new journey one is always a little scared and a tad nervous particularly if one is an adult and the journey is somewhat uncharted. It is not so with children. For them everything new is a thrilling adventure be it a walk to the nearby park or cruise around the world.

This indubitable yet oft forgotten truth was brought to the fore as I watched three of the little pioneers of our foster care cum scholarship programme have their first ever class with Andy Bhaiyya. If one needed any reassurance about the worth of this programme, a single look at these children was ample proof that we were on the right track.

Just a week back these little souls lived their run-of-the-mill existence. A few hours at project why and then back to their tiny homes where life was not easy particularly in the bitter cold. For little Babli it was even worse as she went to a school where no teacher ever taught and her dreams of becoming a police seemed thwarted with obsessive regularity.

So when we decided to give her this chance she grabbed it with both hands and her eagerness to do everything well was palpable as she took on the role of the elder in the tiny group. And while we are still planning and fine tuning matters, our little pioneers are already on the way, their hunger for knowledge reflected in their eager looks and trusting eyes.

God bless them and walk with them…

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.

Little Anisha came visiting. It is always a delight to see her sunshine smile even if it sometimes it takes some time coming. My thought went to just about a year back when we feared for her life that seemed to hold on by a breath.

But children have a way of making up for loss time and little Anisha was always a fighter. Today she looked just like any other little girl all set to start her school life and that is what she had come to do: get admitted in our creche!

It is moments like this that make everything we do worthwhile and give us the courage to carry on in spite of everything.

I wonder what the future hold for this lovely child. I simply know that beautiful morrows await her.

God bless her and walk with her.

India may have its first woman president but it is going to be a long time before the girl child in India gets the same right as her male sibling. What is tragic is that it is often the mother, a girl child herself, who treats her that way.

No mother will ever accept that but one just has to look at things to see the difference. The three kids in the picture are siblings, whereas the boy was dressed warmly as the morning was chilly, the little girls were sent to school in summer frocks.

I wonder why mothers react this way. One would have thought that having suffered similar humiliations themselves they would not perpetrate them and yet it is the mothers who are the real culprits.

This is one of the reasons why the theme selected for the first meeting of the women’s group at the Kamala centre was the girl child and we decided to show Matrubhhomi as we felt that it was one every woman should see particularly in a land where one the one hand women are worshipped but on the other they are used and abused!

Over 15 women attended the meeting and the issue of the girl child was debated with passion and verve. Every one agreed that something had to be done and that the girl child needed to be protected but they also accepted the fact that it would not be an easy task. They all promised to give the matter some thought and come back for the next meeting with ideas for an awareness campaign.

We know it is no mean task as the laws themselves are far from being respected. This came to light the very next day in a glaring manner: a pregnant lady, mother of two girls came to our centre asking us to keep her daughters till late evening as she worked. She also told us that the child she was carrying was yet another girl as had been revealed by an ultrasound she had done recently. Were not sex determination tests banned in our city?

You can share some of the moments of our first women meeting here

I have been watching, with utter dismay and deep concern, the plight of parents running from pillar to post to get their children admitted to nursery in a schools across Delhi, India’s capital city. The nursery admission saga has been going on for quite some time in this city with a wide range of unlikely protagonists in the fray: school authorities, state government, parent’s associations, activists and even the judicial system. And if that is not enough parents now resort to every trick in the bag: pleas, threats and the now sated string pulling!

Education is a a constitutional right for each and every child and yet good educations seems elusive. Over the years a surreptitious and complex caste system has evolved within the society of schools. And sadly education which should be a level playing field has now transformed itself into yet another social status definer with the better one coming at a higher price. A peek into any of the high caste one is sufficient to prove this: some schools today look more like luxury resorts than places of learning. The lower ones a.k.a government schools on the other hand defy all description. In the middle lie a plethora of schools that have mushroomed over the years as education made a subtle shift from places of learning to commercial enterprises, where quality is often sacrificed.

I was horrified when a young nephew ,who is in one of the leading schools in Delhi came for help with is French classes,a subject offered by many leading schools. His copy book was full of mistakes and the pronunciation he had been taught seemed Spanish and not French! The child would have been better off learning Sanskrit or any other Indian language. I brought this fact to the attention of his parents in the hope that they would take it up with the school, but a the look of alarm on their faces reminded me of the long haul it had been for them to get this child admitted into this prestigious school. They were in no mood to rock the boat.

I have always been a strong proponent of the common school system. A school in the neighborhood a child could walk to, a school where children from all walks of life would learn together and celebrate difference, a school where the only admission criterion would be your place of residence. No child should be subjected to rejection at an early age which is what is happening today as parents run from one school to another dragging little 3 years old who are made to go through incomprehensible interviews and complex admission procedures. They may not be able to express themselves but imagine what they feel as they listen to their parents vent their feelings. To me this is just another form of child abuse.

A self respecting society should ensure that this does not happen.

A rock pile ceases to be a rock pile the moment a single man contemplates it, bearing within him the image of a cathedral wrote St Exupery. How right he was.

For me this piece of barren line ceased to be barren from the moment we decided that it was the one chosen to hold planet why. From that instant in time reason took leave of absence and the heart took over. Never mind if one did not know how or when; never mind how daunting the task at hand looked; never mind the obstacles that could come our way, planet why was a reality that just had to happen.

Another beautiful quote of the same author flashed in my mind: if you want to build a ship, don’t drum up people together to collect wood and don’t assign them tasks and work, but rather teach them to long for the endless immensity of the sea and I realised that this was what lay between today and the day when planet why would be a vibrant reality: my ability to get people to long for planet why as much as I did.

No mean task in a world where people have long forgotten the beauty of simple things and lost their ability to think beyond their own needs. And yet beautiful things live on and miracles happen. Just a few days back I would not have believed that I would be standing at the edge of a dusty road looking at a piece of barren land. Just a few days back I was simply trying to figure out how we would go through the next month and the next… the rock pile just remained a hope, a dream, a longing, a prayer… one that I had left to a higher being to fulfill.

The road to this dusty road has been a long one. For a long time I did try to get others to long for it just as I did, but at some point of time I surrendered the thought to the wind knowing within myself that it would ultimately land safely some day. It did, far sooner than I could have imagined and in the most unlikely way possible leaving us all speechless.

The journey is not over and much remains to be done. But it will all come together as long as we keep on longing for the essential, as long as we keep looking with our hearts and as long as we keep on taking one step after another in the right direction.

When Utpal fell into my lap almost 4 years ago he was scalded, swathed in bandages and quite frankly not a pretty site. And yet as I held his fragile body and looked into his incredibly beautiful eyes I knew this was no ordinary child but a very special emissary who had landed my way for a purpose.

As years went by his bag of miracles unfolded and each time something extraordinary happened one felt one had finally unraveled the reason of his appearance in our lives. But as time went by we realised that we would never be able to keep up with him and he would never cease to amaze us.

When we had conceived of planet why and dreamt about it we had never imagined what it would turn out to be when it actually happened. Frankly we were quite content with the image we had conjured and in fact felt it was larger than life. A place for our lost souls was more than we could hope for. But for our little miracle man it was not enough. He had done his bit by sending a set of angels our way but with them came a rider: over and above shelter for our lost souls, we would need to ensure that more kids like him would one day be able to wear smart school uniforms and attend schools that actually were not meant for them and have pals they could laugh and play with.

So be it. You cannot argue with orders that come from blessed souls;you just have to obey them and give them your best though you are more than a little perplexed about what and when the next diktat would come.

Today we set out on our new mission with a song in our heart, a prayer on our lips and renewed determination to see planet why become the hallowed ground we hope it will as what is at stake is far more than anyone can imagine!

To many this may just look like a barren piece of land, and it is just that if you look with your eyes. But today I ask you to look with your heart just as a little prince did in a marvelous fable and said: What makes the desert beautiful is that it hides a well somewhere…

If you do agree to look with your heart then this ungainly piece of land will soon transform into a place where dreams come true. It all began almost 8 years ago with a disturbing encounter between a middle aged a woman and a young man abused hurting and forsaken by all and a preposterous dream: to give this man a real home. At that time the dream did seem absurd;just a meal or a set of clean clothes was what reason dictated but the woman was a dreamer and the dream refused to go away.

The meal was bought, the clothes too, but it did not seem enough and a journey began as somehow she felt that the dream would be fulfilled when day would break, it was just a matter of getting through the night!

It was a long night, and along it more dreams came each of them as impossible as the first one particularly if you allowed yourself to look with your eyes, one just had to keep the heart wide open. Many little hurting souls joined the bandwagon and midway remedies were found and applied but the dream refused to go, on the contrary it became larger and bigger: a home for all the hurting souls, a smile on all the faces that had forgotten to smile, a haven for all those forsaken by their own!

And as it became larger, the woman realised that it was now way beyond her league but she knew she had to just get through the night: day would break. And all through the night she kept praying as she knew that now the matter was not in her hands anymore. And then one fine day Angels appeared and decided that the time had come for the day to dawn.

So look the the picture again: this is where planet why will soon become a reality. This where Manu’s home will be, where Champa will roam freely, where Nanhe will smile away and where Sapna will jump to her heart’s content and many more lost souls will live a dignified and happy life. But the Angels did not want to stop at that, this where many little Utpal’s will don their smart school uniforms and leave for school and one day will stand shoulder to shoulder with those born on the other side of the fence.

So this is no barren piece of land, this is sacred ground, a place where dreams come true, where angels do not fear to tread, a place where the day finally breaks.

Dreams do come true; you just have to get through the night!

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.

Planet why is my most cherished dream but till two days back it was just that: a dream. True that I am used to dreaming and must confess that I have turned quite greedy as many of my dreams have turned into reality over the past 8 years, but planet why often seemed akin to the holy grail and I knew I was no Parsifal!

And yet, with a zeal close that of a knight with no armour I held on to that dream and pursued it as best I could because my holy grail was a cup full of lost smiles and hopes gone astray! I must confess that I rarely garnered the courage to actually spell out the astronomical figure needed to recover all these hopes and smiles but I persevered in my elusive search.

What I had forgotten along the way was that the quest was not mine alone; actually I was simply a channel, albeit a blessed one, who had to carry on what had been entrusted to me, and never give up, no matter what obstacles came my way.

Pwhy has been a journey interspersed with dreams and miracles and even the confirmed agnostic would be compelled to accept that this journey has been steered by an unknown hand who makes things happen!

A chance virtual encounter barely a few months back led to the the incredible: planet why moved from the realm of dream to that of reality as angels joined my quest and helped us secure an interest free loan to enable us to purchase the land where planet why will seed. They are now furiously at work so that we are able to repay back that loan and get the funds needed to build this blessed space where mislaid hopes and smiles will finally find a home and bright morrows will be crafted with love and care.

Angels look just like us; only you need to see with your heart to recognise them! And you do not thank Angels, you just carry on your work with renewed faith to hold on to their wings.

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:

This morning S dropped by at the women centre to discuss our road map for planet why. It was not a matter of convincing ourselves, or anyone else for that matter, of the validity of the project. It even makes good business sense were it viewed solely as a business proposition. Actually it has to be so, as we need the profits to continue the work we began 8 years ago and graduate from the status of perpetual albeit high-tech beggars to that of people capable of fulfilling our dreams ourselves.

I have often talked about planet why and shared my vision trying to view it from all possible angles: be it the sustainability factor or the humane one. I have pitched it within the confines of social enterprise as well as that of what is now known as volontourism! Which ever way one looked at it, it always seemed to make sense.

As Anatole France said: To accomplish great things, we must not only act, but also dream; not only plan, but also believe. I guess one needs to turn the quote a little as dreamed and believe we have, now it is time to act!

I remember the days when I found it infra-dig to speak of money. I shudder to think of all that was owed to me that I never sought back. Then came pwhy and with it many little dreams that needed to be fulfilled; dreams entrusted to me by the God of Lesser Beings. And the only way to accomplish this daunting yet edifying task was to quickly give up what one considered demeaning and learn to beg. I must admit I learnt quickly and that is how we could achieve all that we have.

Today as we set out to translate another dream into reality I find myself faced with the necessity of taking a quantum leap in my new found profession as what we need today is a staggering figure with a string of zeros I cannot even formulate. And yet the dumbfounding figure pales in the wake of what it would actually yield: smiles on faces that had forgotten to smile, hope in hearts where there was only despair, shelter to those who live in constant fear and above all a tomorrow for those whose today has died.

Actually it is something was one has been doing till now but the target was small as it was just a matter of being able to carry on one day at time, one month at a time and so on for nearing nine years now! But this hand to mouth existence can only be temporary just as we are. What we seek now is secure all the tomorrows and moor them firmly so that little boys little Utpal can sleep in peace. That is what planet why is all about.

I know that there are people across the planet who know how to see with their hearts. I did find so many of them and they are the ones who made pwhy the vibrant reality it is is. I need now to just like the Little prince of St Exupery to set out on new travels and find the right ones. Past experience has shown that they are not easy to come by but dreams are never easy to fulfill and one does comes across businessmen too busy to look at you. But one has to persevere till the end and view the humongous figure as an aggregate of many smaller ones as my dear friend M put it.

I also know that simple humane stories of children will not suffice this time. So we do have our set of learned men furiously making plans with all the needed columns and projections to reassure the kind hearted persons who will be willing to invest in our dream to prove to them that it is worthy of their trust.

Nothing happens unless first we dream. (Carl Sandburg)

If I ever saw an angel, it was in your eyes. You’ve touched my life like an angel… Thanks for being there for me!

Four years back a little angel dropped into my existence. True that he was scalded and scorched and did not look very pretty but his incredible eyes were truly seraphic and in spite of the searing pain they held a message of love, hope and faith. I somehow knew he was blessed.

That day Utpal walked into my existence and life was never the same again. Miracles started coming our way and problems seemed to vanish as fast as they came. Project why grew in leaps and bounds at an astounding pace that left us all puzzled and stunned. Angels appeared from nowhere and nothing seemed impossible.

As I sit in the very first hours of this New Year crafting seemingly impossible dreams I can feel his presence and know that these dreams will come true. What I seek today is a way to make all the little dreams that the God of Lesser being has left in my custody come true and even if what we seek has a staggering number of figures, they pale in the wake of what they would actually yield: smiles on faces that had forgotten to smile, hope in hearts where there was only despair, shelter to those who live in constant fear and above all a tomorrow for those whose today has died.

Planet why has to become a reality and I know that a little angel is at work to make it happen.

Utpal is also a little boy just like others and today as a special treat he goes to see Hanuman returns with his pal Kiran and his ageing Maam’ji before he returns to his boarding school.

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.