These words dropped in the mailbox this morning: “I am just about to lose my patience here with ….. I don’t understand what their problem is – seems like they just want to dissect each issue to pieces forsaking the larger picture at hand.”

They were written by a supporter trying to harness some help for pwhy from a funding organisation.. Unlike many pwhy supporters who have never been to see us but still have found us worthy and extended generous help, this friend had been to pwhy and spent time with us..

Welcome to the world of funding organisations and their excruciating paper work.. Welcome to a world where trust and giving have been clouded by extreme caution bordering suscpicion..

Some time back words like these use to infuriate me.. now they make me smile, though a sad smile.. I have diligently answered questions and filled forms while trying to softly share my concern and views.. I have also watched with detached amusement those who have been sent to evaluate us, counting children to meet the mentioned figure.. this in spite of my having explained that ours is an after school centre for children who sometimes leave, where the numbers can vary according to season, and holidays and festivities…

Education, development, awareness are all issues that make sense only if one can gain the trust of the people and to gain that trust one sometimes has to make course corrections and changes.. Solutions are not right if they cannot transcend time and space and that is why we have been doggedly trying to evolve a model which can be self sustained, not only where funds are concerned, but in the realm of skills and resources, keeping the costs to a bare minimum..

So we run with local staff who often to not have the skills to meet the complex formalities of many funding organisations.. though they do wonders with the children. For us getting someone to do that would equal the cost of setting up two primary extensions!

People still laugh at my rupee-a-day funding fantasy.. but it is one I do not give up on and find myself sometimes dreaming of the day when many such centres will exist and will be funded by local people: the parents, the shopkeeper, the flat resident, the local businessman.. and what makes me hold on is the sight of little Vishal counting his cars painstakingly in an environement where is childhood is safe

teach my child english.. was the first things many parents asked me six years back when i first landed on planet why.. now many may think why every parent feels that english is necessary for their children.. come on what use would a vegetable vendor or a mechanic do with english..

this is what i discovered on the brand new sign board of my vegetable vendor who now has to cater for the foreign clients and the new eating fads.. bins spraut, red cabies and spair grace are eaten by all – we are talking of bean sprouts, red cabbage and asparagus in case you had not figure it out – and so are jugnis or jugnu as radhey my scooter driver calls zucchini.. we are in the world of phonetics and hindi prononciations faithfully transcribed by a signboard painter! Do not forget the lemongrace tea!

what a delight.. and let us hope it stays like this.. at least it brings a smile when nothing else does

My heart went out to Nandini has she heaved herself down the lane, her precious books in her hand, I asked her to come and sit with me and then enquired upon what the doctor has said. This matter of fact young lady told me that she could not be operated upon till she was 40 and that she had been told to carry on doing all she did but not strain herself or carry weight..

To bring a smile on her face, I told her that according to me studying did not require carrying weight.. so she could hold on to her dream and work towards becoming a doctor.. Nandini is dying to go back to Sipaul, to her school as exam time is near. I too want her to go as the good clean air and fresh food will go a long way in helping her keep healthy..

I sat a long while trying to find an explanation for the family as I knew the reality: it was too late to repair her heart and that she would have to live with a heart beating twice as fast as a normal one.. she would not be able to do many of the things that a young girl her age does..

Later when the mother came with her uncle, I told them that her body had repaired itself just as a broken bone does if not attended to, and that it was working fine so the doctors did not want to mess with it.. nature does things its way.. I told them to make sure she studies, and not to think of getting her married.. she wanted to be a doctor. Well maybe she would be one..

I would like to see that Nandini finishes her studies and gets the support she needs to do so: books and extra tuition, and when the time comes who knows maybe she will make it to medical school.. miracles do happen if one wants them enough.

Welcome to why house – for want a better name – this where we will soon be moving, or at least part of us.. this is also a transition time for pwhy.

We at pwhy have always held that children from all walks of life should attend regular school. schools run by the state as that is the only way of ensuring that every child born in India can have access to its right to education, one that the constitution guarantees.. we have more than once voiced our concern at the slowly emerging pattern of privatisation of schools and setting up of parallel second rate systems for the under-privileged child.. that is why we ensure that all our children are mainstreamed into the existing system.. our task his to help them succeed and hence contain drop out rates..

Our first task was to prove to ourselves and others that we could do this with resources drawn from within the community we work with and; it is a matter of pride to say that we had a 99% result in the 6 years of our existence.. It is now time to fine tune our model.

why house will house our babies and special kids but all our primary centres will now be in the field, so that we can slowly create new ones and reach out more children with minimum costs.. taking us slowly to the day where we hope the community will raise the basic costs and we will act as a training-cum-monitoring vehicle.. and provide the add ons..

Our secondary outreach which will soon become self-sufficient will continue where it is.

Jump for my love.. said the pointer sisters in their famous song!

Wonder what A is jumping for…

A is an autistic child and lives locked in his world that no one understands.. not even his own family.. his mother loves him but does not know how to, his father does not have time for his antics..

At pwhy he is happy because we make an effort of entering his world and we do not check him for what may seem strange to others.. we know it is just his way of expressing himself.. for some time now we have been aware that A sometimes does not know how to deal with his abundant energy.. when a friend asked us if there was anything we would like to have, we thought of a trampolin knowing that the kids would love it..

At first hesiatnt the children soon caught the trick but it was A who took to the trampolin like a fish to water.. and he jumped, higher and higher, finally finding a way to release all that pent up energy, one that would not entail any censure or reprimand..

I have always been fascinated by the theory of synchronicity. One of the definitions I like is the following: ” Synchronicities are people that come your life to help you evolve or to place emphasis on something going on in your life. “

I sat this afternoon taking a break from things and zapping TV channels.. two of them caught my attention and interest: the replay of Dead Man Walking and an interview of Dionne Bunsha on the relase of her book: Scarred – experiments with violence in Gujarat. In the former Susan sarandonm was desperately trying to find some way finding a shred of good in the condemned man, and in the later the young journalist was trying to expain that even the worst perpetrators of injustice were convinced they were doing something good. “They are people who see themselves as some sort of Robin Hoods working for the betterment of their religion.”

The little hands in the picture are today raised to show off the paint smeared on them after a fun painting session.. tomorrow the same hands can lend their support to fight for justice like jessica lal’s or to lend support to some destructive mission fuelled by misguided robin hoods! Lst week, when we asked who George Bush was, little 10 years olds said in unison: an international terrorist.. the reason being the innumerable posters plstered all over the slums saying so.

Every day one is made aware of the frightening reality of young people becoming prey to misguided propaganda. This more so in urban slums where life for young boys is not easy and tentations many so the lure of a mobile phone, a bike, a CD player, a credit card can make regular kids into potential criminals… We have seen this happening with dubious pyramid selling agencies who seek out the most vulnerable and offer them the moon!

There is an abundance of energy that exists in kids living in the highly charged atmosphere of urban slums, an energy that is ready to be tapped.. and many are aware of this. It is never the leader who pulls the trigger or plants the exploding device.. they neeeds hands to do so.. hands that today maybe smeared with paint but who knows what will happen tomorrow..

It is our duty as a civil society to do something today and now!

It has been some time since I wrote about nanhe.. so here is some news.. he has been back at pwhy and thrilled to be with his friends.. and rearing to make up for lost time..

Since his return he has had several outings and no sir not only to the hospital: Nanhe visited Qutab minar and went for a birthday lunch to Dilli Haath!

Last week, he even cleaned the coriander that was used in the lovely pullao that the special section made for all the staff…

But little Nanhe and his smile have a long way to go.. another surgery lurks in the corner.. one that needs to be done to remove the many stones in his kidneys..

some people wonder why fight for a child like nanhe.. the answer is simple.. no matter how short the life of a child is.. we at pwhy believe that it should be lived to its fullest.. and nanhe today is doing just that!

It is always very difficult to find the right birthday gift for your adult child.. you are either likely to go wrong or land up giving something they already have..
And yet each parent wants to make the right choice.. Steve and Sandy oudid everyone and found something very special for their son.

Hello–we are the parents of Taylor McHolm, who volunteered at the crèche in Delhi during the six month he lived in India. (In Nov. of 2005 you had a picture of him in your blog, which made us cry, and made us very proud—so we sent it to all our relatives!) My wife and daughter also visited the school with Taylor when we were in India last November. Taylor’s birthday is March 2, and we would like to adopt the crèche where he worked for a few months, in his honor.

Taylor is an exceptional young man, one his parents can be proud of. In his short stay with us he made a big difference and everyday we cannot but think of him when Lali smiles, or the twins walk.. he would be happy to know that Manoj is getting better and that many of the children he loved are learning new things. And kudos to Steve and Sandy who could not have found a better birthday gift: one that will not only bring joy and a lovely smile on Taylors’ face, but one that will for months to come, ensure that over 20 little children can come to play school, play with their pals, giggle and laugh, and of course, learn new things.

So happy birthday Taylor, we miss you and love you!

Note: lali is the one carrying the placard and manoj waves from urmila’s arms

Wedding time seems to have gripped our city and we have had an array of them: from the creme de la creme to the simple folk.. wedding bells were ringing

If people did not stop talking about a recent page 3 wedding that panned three cities and many nights, we had our own page 0 wedding. A young dalit girl got married and though there were not many to comment on it, it was a big wedding with the groom on a chariot, a snazzy tent, international food and a dowry where washing machine, color TV and VCD players were proudly displayed.. one will for the moment not mention that much of the money was borrowed some of it a 120% a year!

Two ends of the spectrum..

Then there was another wedding one attended, where most of the guests were from planetB… people who belonged to the sacrosanct world of India’s ruling class. Now the talk of the day was j.lal and justice denied.. good point to start talking about India and the spectrum, where justice is denied everyday to people.. I was startled to see how little they knew about the land they represent or administer. We talked about many things from slum weddings to slum schools.. and I was amused to see that to many, it seemed as if i were talking of another planet. This is how little people know about the other side of midnight..

The little girl in this picture was merely a thought, when her sister was brutally murdered in what seemed to be a human sacrifice.. no matter how hard we tried, no proper FIR was registered and in spite of appeals to the NHRC and the police authorities, the case was explained as two children – the little girl age 5 and her cousin age 3 – having decided on their own to cross busy roads and find their way in the dark of the night to one manhole that had been left opened..

Rohan and Puja did not have parents that could fight for them.. and we did not have sufficient clout..

So if today j. lal’s case can restore justice and make some lasting changes in our legal system, it will herald new hope. Muscle and Money the two dreaded M’s have to be overpowered and only civil society can do that.. Today’s fight may seem a page 3 one, but it is not so, as the outcome of this outrage will change things for every one who suffers injustice.. and ensure that little Nidhi will lead a safe life..

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

but who bells the cat…

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Note:

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

I salute this larger than life toyMan

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

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

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

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

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

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

all of us at project why will miss Sopi Didi

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

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

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

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

All year long we celebrate innumerable festivals.. many are religious… some social… we wish each other diwali and xmas, eid and pongal amd freindship day and mother’s day… often not quite knowing what each of them signifies..

Today is R Day.. often viewed as a day of parades and traffic restrictions, of closed shops and extra security measures.. of jaded school functions where the essential is absent.. but let us take a moment and think about what we celebrate today.. the coming into force of our Constitution..

Most of us may not realise how important this is. But it is this text that guarantees each and every Indian freedom and the right to live with dignity…

We, the people of India, having solemnly resolved to constitute India into a Sovereign socialist secular democratic republic and to secure to all its citizens :
Justice, social, economic and political;
Liberty of thought, expression, belief, faith and worship;
Equality of status and of opportunity;
and to promote among them all fraternity assuring the dignity of the individual and the unity and integrity of the Nation

Every child of India has a right to know its constitutional rights and his duties.. and made aware of the responsibility he carries.. every child of India has to be made aware of his place in the democratic pattern, has to learn the fact all Indians have one vote, no matter who they are.. has to be made aware of the freedom he enjoys and the duties that ensue. Hence freedom of movement allows him to relocate – something a country like France does not permit – but he also has to understand that relocation means sharing already limited resources and therefore respecting them.. Freedom of religion also means accepting the other one’s beliefs.. Every child of India has to know that he has a right to education, one that the state must guarantee..

We all aspire for a better tomorrow individually and collectively, a better tomorrow for every Indian as only when that hapens, will our country truly wake up.. and if education is the way, then education needs to include making children aware of their true identity as citizens of India.. as only then will they be able to fulfill their dreams…

happy R day!

here is the latest picture of our very own babli from bed no 6, ward no 2… quite a star she is as she puts on a million dollar smile in spite of pain and a swollen eye! so little babli has a brand new heart… it took some effort that began when mr never say die a.k.a sitaram brought her to pwhy and ended with the great supportBabli team – inumerable friends and well wishers from the world over – at work!

across the road in ward no 19 of another hopsital, Nanhe is rid of the terrible pain that lost the valiant battle against the now famous never say die smile, a smile that helped us through the long journey to get Nanhe his much needed operation..

and this was the smile we were treated to a few moments before he was taken to surgery..

babli aur nanhe are today on the way to recovery, but they have also spearheaded a new mission for project why: that of helping children in need of life saving interventions.. and this could only have been possible without of one invisible hero… our very own sitaram.

Little Chetna is Nanhe’s roomie.. she is two months old and has a hole in her heart that requires surgery.. the family is not rich and the mother bears the stigma of having lost her first daughter and produced another defective one.. everything seems to conspire against this little child.. almost as if the large sum required would be a bad investment..

As I looked into her huge black eyes, all I saw was a tiny little heart beating as best it could to infuse life into this beautiful child… the conclusion was foregone.. something had to be done, and in spite of the many questions that would be raised by detractors and friends, I knew almost intuitively that my friend, the god of lesser beings, was at work again.. and the slight hesitation that was about to cross my mind was set to rest there and then as the incredible Sitaram had taken the lead and was asking for referreal papers and contact numbers..

team pwhy on standby for Babli, had its next mission charted out.. and before I could say anything operation Chetna had begun imbued with a life of its own.. another miracle was in the offing…

Somehow this was a special moment in the life of pwhy, one that proved that we had come a long way as the lead to save Chetna was taken by he humblest son of India… one who was also repaying a debt!

For me it was a moment of quiet celebration…

nanhe’s operation is still uncertain.. and it is now his 20th day in the hospital.. but believe me ward no 18 is a happy place.. and almost a family ..

there is puja who has a tumour in her abdomen, and vishal who has high fever, and vijay who suffers copper toxicity and has lost the use of his limbs and ritu who has water in her lungs..
they come from different places but all have one thing in common: a smile and a will to beat the ailment and live..

and today, as nanhe slept.. I discovered his little world!

Because of your smile.. you make life more beautiful... Thich Nhat Hanh

This simple quote by a vietnamese monk sums up nanhe’s mission on planet earth.. many of you have fallen in love with his smile and his incredible courage..

I must confess there are some who have, albeit in veiled words, wondered why we are putting up such a fight for one like nanhe..

Long ago, a friend had told me that special children come on this earth with a mission many fail to recognise.. they come to make us better people, to help us get to that part of us we are unaware of.. to help us learn to look at the small things that matter most and that we often pass by.. and maybe to show us the way when all seems lost..

I am amazed at the number of friends who have rallied around nanhe, the incredible love he has managed to awaken in so many people..

And to those who wonder why we are fighting for nanhe, let me say it is simply because he makes life more beautiful

...and if at any time you feel like there is no hope, think of me sitting 10000 miles away not giving up on him! Also, if there is anything that needs to be done (absolutely anything!) and is stopped because of lack of funds, let me know immedietely…..I will raise funds for him

Our prayers are with Nanhe, god can’t snatch away his gorgeous smile… I’m praying really hard…

we are all praying for him… I am confident it will work!!

These are just a few of the messages that dropped in my mail box moments after friends heard that nanhe’s smile was in danger.. he was to be operated upon but an erratic blood pressure and low blood count made the doctors postpone surgery to next week..

For seventenn long nights and as many long days, nanhe has held on to his smile.. as you can see in the picture taken a few hours ago.. he has kept his part of the deal.. we are the ones that have not..

He has kept smiling in spite of excruciating pain, humiliating invasive tests, innumerable jabs and pokes.. telling us silently, in his inimitable way, that he was willing to fight with us… and we cannot give up…

I hope someone is listening….

Many of you have shared with us babli’s tryst with life.. this little woman of substance is a true braveheart…

Till now, for babli the ‘surgery’ had been something everyone talked about, something vague that the poor child had no way of imagining. She used to say with her perky smile and bright eyes that she was not afraid.

But now it is real and it was heart wrenching to see how hard she tried to put up a brave face when faced with the the complex machines and the men in white. You could see fear in her eyes though she tried her best to overcome it..

When I finally met her after the ordeal of her angiograpahy as she lay on a stretcher in the dark corridor of the hospital ward, visibly in pain, she jumped up and greeted me with her ususal ‘hello ma’am’… her eyes filled with trust and hope..

babli is now back with us at project why and we await the surgery date…

“I know that I can donate to the organization through the website, but I would prefer to sponsor one child’s education completely” was what was written in a mail that dropped in my box this morning. It came from an Indian living abroad.

I often get request like this and I reply to them individually.. some undesrtand , others never write back. This time I thought it would be better to address the ‘sponsorship’ issue in an open post.

I do not know when ‘sponsoring children’ became a fashionable option in the ever growing charity business.. and many moons ago, when I had not started work on the field, it seemed acceptable..

Today it is something that I find difficult to accept, and even though I know it closes many doors to me, I find it not in tune with the project why spirit.

I will try and explain why…

Project why’s main trust is to empower people to take on the reins of their lives, and stand on their own.. and singling out one child is a sure of way of marginalising her or him. For us all the children are the same and they all the deserve the best… and as we hope one day to have the community itself steer the project by pooling resources, the idea of sponsored kids does not work.

Then, project why being a support education system, cannot ensure that a child will remain with us for a given time. His parents may leave the area, or the city… or some other case of force majeure may lead to them leaving..

What we seek is support to continue our work which extends far beyond simple education. In empowering a community you must gain its trust and reach out whenever a problem arises. Only then will people accept your ideas and your suggestions. A simple school certificate that can be obtained with a mere 33% , is not what will change India.They are larger issues that need to be addressed.

We do understand that donors want to know where ‘their money goes‘. That is why we set ot what we call an adoption plan for want of a better word, and hence a donor can chose a group of kids, and we then provide information about the group.

That is one end of the story, but there is a more disturbing one. Why is it that we give more easily when there is heart wrenching story, a terrible calamity, a face to relate to.. is it not much more because of some inadequacy in us… lack of trust in the other, some innate fear..

When we launched our one rupee programme, it was with the idea of blurring the great donor-recipient divide, to make everyone a potential donor.. and we still believe that it will happen some day, as that is the only long term option to sustain such efforts.. till then we hope tat those of you who think we are doing something worthwhile will continue believing in us!

Yesterday was eid.. some celebrated it, others enjoyed a holiday…certainly if they were government employees..

Normally on holidays OPD halls in government hospitals lie empty and bare.. but not quite.. two young doctors decided otherwise in the cardio thoracic centre of AIIMS and that is how little Babli and around a dozen little kids got their pre-op checks done in princely style. No queues, no waiting between test, so off you went from the phsyical check up, to the Xray departement, to the ECG room.. all in record time. simply because two young doctors, who have nothing to gain, decided that kids hsould get a better deal..

This morning, Babli will be first in the line for her angiograph.. thanks to two young indian with a heart

Oh darling, yeh also hei India

Many of you have reacted with spontaneity to some of the human problems that I write about..and some of you have suggested solutions that seem plausible and humane.. these are the very solutions that used to come up to my mind when I began my work.. but most of them had to be reviewed and corrected as one discovered the reality of India and life in urban slums..

What was important was to define what one aimed at: short term patch up options that satisfied one’s own conscience, or long term solutions that may seem harsh in the beginning but could sow the first seeds of long term changes..

We opted for the latter..

Let me share some of the unimaginable situations that we have had to deal with.

What do you do when a severly malnutrioned mother tells you that they do not eat left overs!

What do you do when clothes you have given are not put on the child because the local soothsayer tells the parent that the child’s ailment is due to her wearing given garments that have spells acst into them..

What do you tell a woman who defends a drunkard husband who beat her and her children…

How do you fight the local quack or the local money lender who lends at 10% a month!!

How do you fight the need to impress which makes people buy a TV but not food…

How do you fight the stranglehold of religious diktats where enormous amounts of money are spent to fulfill the hunger of the Gods, where milk and fruits are bought for a stone deity but not for a little child..

What do you say to someone you want to help when he says that he is happy with his pathetic life because his employer gives him the timely carrot..

Hopeless.. one may say.. not quite. There is a way, albeit a slow one.

We chose to walk that path at pwhy. It entails getting the confidence of those you work with and slowly setting small examples. What you have to keep in mind is the long term objective.

One has to remember that one is fighting with age old traditions, outdated mores, atavistic feudal attitudes that will take time. Mothers are always a good starting point and children the real strength. You have to play a judicious game of slow empowerment, where you demistify existing values and slowly introduce new ones..

In city that are bursting at the seams and are real tinder boxes, the message you have to send is that the future lies back home, in the villages and smaller town; start telling the children that all the skills and knowledge they acquire should be taken back. Each problem you encounter should become a larger lesson..

And then you know you are on the right path when a Vicky tells you: I will go back and set up a pwhy in my village in Bihar..

The road is long but it is the right one…

Oh darling yeh hai India!

Delhi woke up to its coldest day in 70 years.. it was 0.2 degree celsius.. later that day came an announcement: all primary schools would be closed for two days..

Easy said, easy done… great idea, the kids can remain warm at home.. is what one would logically think from the comfort of our homes..

But what about children whose home is a tiny chilly dark hole…whose parents both leave for work as the evening meal depends on that..

What about the children whose hot meal is the one they get in school..

Will closing the school keep these kids warm, fed and safe…

One of the reasons why we decided on the very first day we began our work to keep our centre open on holidays was that those were the days where the children needed us most, as they hung around unsafe streets, and had no one to look after them or feed them..

Remember there are 1.7 million such children in our city…

Note: as I had anticipated many little girls (morning shift) turned up to an empty school to be sent back in many cases to a locked home!

R in his lasted blog mentions a touching letter written by a father after the loss of his son in battle. In his trying to define what makes a true hero, this grieving father writes the following:

But even more, being a hero comes from respecting your parents and all others, from helping your neighbors and strangers, from loving your spouse, your children, your neighbors and your enemies, from honesty and integrity, from knowing when to fight and when to walk away, and from understanding and respecting the differences among the people of the world.”

OIne wonders if such heroes exist… they do.. one just has to know how to recognise them as they often remain invisible, and melt away in the background, or are simply taken for granted..

We have one such person…

Sitaram came to us a couple of years back when he was desperately seeking funds to get his son Raju a much needed heart surgery.. there was something poignant about this gentle man, who hobbled on a stick having suffered a stroke and who was willing to give everything he had to save his ailing son.. We could not remain silent spectators and we found the funds and Raju was operated upon. He is now back in school and will be going to class VI..

Normally people helped are grateful.. but Sitaram’s debt of gratitude was of another kind. He soon started ferrying children in a cart, that became our famous why-on-wheels, but it is just today that I realise how much more Sitaram has done with utmost discretion and compassion..

Babli and Nanhe are both children that Sitaram brought to project why.. as well as Munna and many other children in need of our help.. He took upon him to get Babli’s first check ups and thus ensure that she get the much needed operation.. Each time a problem occurs, he is always the first one to offer help, no matter how back breaking the task..

But there is another side to his compassion, one that often goes unnoticed.. a few days back when he was a little delayed for his afternoon shift, we were surprised to learn that he had taken a little time off to go visit Nanhe in hospital… something no other staff member had yet done..

Sitaram once was a man running a little tea stall. His son’s heart condition compelled him to leave the confines of his lane and come into contact with the big bad world as he ran for over a year looking for help ; what he found was false promises and humiliations..as he knocked every imaginable door.. even that of the First Citizen.

So when help came, for Sitaram it could not end with a thank you.. he intuitively embraced the pwhy spirit and became a silent ambassador, bringing hope in a way so discreet that none of us recognised it..

a true invisible hero

Babli and Nanhe will be operated upon next week… at project why life continues and the beat goes on..

Little Manoj looks like a garden gnome.. he is almost two and cannot stand, his legs not bigger than two sticks.. his bright eyes dart around with intelligence as he tries to follow the others, making sure he is not left out..

His emanciated body is a silent reminder of the everpresent and insiduous ailment that pervades urban slums and attacks children: malnutrition.. a mother who never got what was needed to build sturdy bones and strong muscles… a child fed for far too long on breast milk… store bought goodies that have become the hallmark of urban life: bread and biscuits dipped in weak tea.. no fruits or vegetables… legs that never crawled as there is no space in the dingy homes, let alone the alley in front of the home which often looks like a drain.. and where you breathe the fumes of factories …

Back home in the village there would have been wholesome chappatis, green vegetable, local fruit and milk, as even the poorest of the poor own at least a goat, and grow seasonal vegatables… there would have been clean water and freah air and space to run in..

Manoj’s mom is a frail undesrnourished 18 year old who does housework and his father works on daily wages in some factory.. they came to seek a better future…

Is an urban slum, in a city where habitat for the poor has simply been forgotten, where employers do not respect the minimum wage laws, where quacks replace doctors, where there is no caring grandmother to share local remedies.. where the man often starts drinking the much needed rupees to ease his frustration… where you find yourself in the stranglehold of the money lender the moment the first problem hits you, a better future..

I wonder…