Just when you sit back and think that you have done your bit, and maybe can take a break , someone decides otherwise and a tiny broken heart lands softly on your planet. One look at the trusting eyes and innocent face and your mind is already racing.

Deepak is 7 months old and requires open heart surgery. Though his face is plump his tiny body is proof of how difficult the simple task of breathing is for this child. The scribbled now familiar green card of the All India Institute lies in front of you..

70 000 rs with the added 4000 for the angiograpy.. how can little deepak’s daily wage labourer father ever put that money together.. and you ask yourself which one of the thousands of prayers his mom must have whispered, did he hear!

One has to stop and I think at the reality we often do not see. One the one hand India is shining and more and more of our countryPals are making it on the world’s richest men list.. Five start medical facilities now attract a new form of tourism. But no effort is being made towards medical care for the poor.

A TV network recently showed an old educated couple begging in the streets of Mumbay. The dignified old lady wore a placard around her neck saying she had lost her eyesight, breast and home to cancer and needs help.

Looking at those pictures I felt so small and inadequate and wondered where had we gone wrong in building our nation.. True that after the programme, help poured in and the couple is now comfortable. But many questions remained unanswered.. is it only after a story of human tragedy is aired on TV that people open their hearts and feel a sense of responsibility..? does our charitable side needs external prompts to awaken..?

In our 7 years of up market begging one has had to accept the sad reality that individual heart wrenching cases do get heeded, whereas long term and preventive projects are difficult to sell.. the person willing to come forward in individual cases, tiptoes away when asked for help in our every day work..

A flash of intuition or some hidden instinct pushed me to set up a community driven grass root project, and in our 7th year running and in spite of the innumerable setbacks and looming temptations, the tug is still very much there. No magical wand is going to create a perfect social system no matter how committed an administration we have. The magical wand lies in our ability to awaken the charitable side that lies dormant in each one of us, so that a network of support is created at the micro level and takes care of its own – the poor, the handicapped, the old, the sick – and ultimately this is the network that will create the bridge between national programmes and the end user.

How, is the question, and my answer remains the same: the one rupee a day model, where the one rupee could be translated as free space, time, skills and resources.. If each of our outreach programmes could be handled by the local community, we would see a quantum leap in the number of children helped..

I have always held that India’s solutions lie in addressing simultaneously the macro and the micro level till the day the meet and synergise.

Will that day dawn in our life span, I do not know, but in the spirit of what has been said, one has to continue with conviction in what one feels is right.

Deepak needs a new heart that is today’s challenge, tomorrow’s is to ensure that we are still around for all the other Jyotis and Deepaks in waiting!

Wonder what a mundane potato chip and a prayer to God have in common..

Yesterday I had a fall as the old knee gave in resulting in a badly bruised ankle.. An ice pack and bandage later I hobbled to where Utpal was playing.. he stopped and looked at me with a quizzical face.. Upon hearing what had happened he got up and went to a fetch his pack of potato chips and with a serious face took one out and told me to eat it as it would take the hurt away.. then he declared that he would pray to bhagwan to make it all well and turned his little face up, shut his eyes and folding his hands he sent his simple petition to the heavens..

I cannot find the words to express the multitude of emotions that filled me as i watched this little fellow pray.. The room was for that moment in time filled with palpable much energy and divine light..

His prayer finished, little Utpal went back to his toys leaving us all overwhelmed by the power of what had happened..

Needless to say my pain was gone..

God listens to children.. maybe we should too

Once again the dreaded happened: two young children of india took their lives away in the land capital city because they failed their Boards examinations.

This has been happening with obsessive regularity and yet no one had don anything to put an end to this..

Wonder what goes into the head of a child that makes him take this extreme irreversible step
Is failing in a set of questions in a limited number of subjects – some so inane and useless to life – tantamount to failing in life itself.. is our society so perverse as to judge a human life in whether it knows how to add, or remembers some statistic or the other.. is it the parents who put undue pressure, the peer group or the inadequate opportunities our society gives its members that make a child who has barely taken a few step in life take this momentous decision..

Imagine the sense of despair that the child must feel at that moment..

It is not the child who has failed but we adults who have made the norms of success so narrow and bigoted that they cannot account for those who are otherwise endowed.. Who knows the child who took her life may have turned out to be a musician, an artist or maybe just a good human being, something so rare that we have forgotten its relevance..

I work with people who by our standards are failures as they have never passed an ‘examination’ in their entire lives and yet when one looks at them, one can see that they stand far above what we call successes, maybe not in material terms but in what makes a human being worthy of that name. Mothers who never give up, women who carry on their station in life in circumstances that would make us give up a thousand times, men who toil so that their children can have a better tomorrow, people who may have nothing but are generous to a fault..

What makes my blood run cold is that every year, as if on cue, one or more children take their lives after failing in a school examination and we do nothing barring a few chuckles of sympathy. One child dying for in this way should be enough to make us stand up and do something.. There is something terribly wrong in this numbers game which is foul in more ways than one..

I cannot begin to express the sense of immense let down I feel, when an illiterate parent comes beaming from ear to ear with his child’s school results wanting to share the joy of the child having passed. A glance at the report card where no number exceeds 33 and the words grace marks jump at you, are sufficient to prove the worthlessness of this piece of paper where the word PASS stares at you. You know the child will ultimately go the same way as his parents, as the certificate gathers dust and fritters with age..

What is this pass fail ka khel and can someone change the rules?

Ram Pyari, Nanhe’s mom had told us that she was off to the village for a few days with Nanhe. We thought nothing of it, though we wondered why she had chosen the hottest month to do so..

Yesterday we were taken aback when she came back and told us that actually she had taken nanhe to Narayan Seva Samsthan’s specialised hospital in Udaipur for his leg surgery.. I remembered her telling me a while back that she had registered at the polio camp held by the Sri Sumathinath Jain Navyuvak Mandal in Delhi last year. At that time we were worried about nanhe’s general condition and I had not given much heed to what she was saying..

Seeing Nanhe back with his smile and a cast on his leg led me to stop what I was doing and savour a very rare moment.. here was a mom saddled by destiny with 3 disabled children, a woman who had lost her husband and who fed her tiny family by selling cucumbers in the day and boiled eggs near the local watering hole at night, a mother who had never given up on her child, no matter how ill or debilitated he was.. one who had found the options possible by herself and left not stone unturned to see her last born walk, even for a short time..

Ram Pyari is a rare woman, one who takes on life with a smile not matter how bad it is, who never gives up and knows that miracles happen when you want them to, and above all that they happen when you have the courage to walk alone.. and a smile like nanhe’s to light the way..

When I come across women like Ram Pyrai, I feel tiny…

remember nandini, the spunky bright village girl.. the one whose heart could not be repaired and whose dreams are in our custody, the class V student who as an infectious smile and an admirable desire to learn.. well she amazed us once again..

nandini wants to be a doctor and wants it bad.. this young girl of 10 was already in class V and doing well when she had to leave school and come to Delhi to tend to her heart.. when the ordeal was over and she was given a go home signal, she came to me and asked me if I would help her study.. I told her that she should go back and send me a detailed break up with supporting documents and a bank account number..

I was delighted when I got a neat enveloppe with a beautifully written letter, bills and other receipts as well as a photocopy of a post office account in her name. The cost details are available at this page and we hope that we will be able to raise the funds needed.

At a time when one is always complaining about the conditions of education in india, it is important to place on record the fact that this little school in a small towm in much maligned Bihar, is imparting the kind of education one would like to see elsewhere in India.

We hope nandini becomes a doctor, we have no doubt she will be a caring one.

A friend and supporter sent a mail with these words: “Are you dreaming to hopefully build a concrete school in the area for such kids one day..”.

This is a question that has come our way many a times… and that is why I thought that it needed to be adressed and answered as best as possible.

Yes, we dream and we dream big.. and we have also sometimes wished for a building, particularly when the heat is unbearable or the rain floods our ad hoc space, or the cold turns us all blue and we have to jump before starting class.. and it is also true that we have now got a small building where our babies and special kids are housed and safe.. but that is where we stop..

When pwhy began, we always saw it as something the community could replicate and that is why we drew our human resources from within even if it meant that we fell out of the net of a myriad funding agencies as we had untrained teachers.. that is also why in the six years of our existence we have taught in reclaimed pig styes and garbage dumps, on the road side, between houses, in airless jhuggis and open parks.. erecting classrooms in a jiffy when we were pushed around and bulldozed, wearing down our detractors. Bamboo poles and plastic sheets were all that was needed.. the idea being to show that to teach children one needed the will to do so, the rest was there if one looked for it.. it also meant that no matter where slums were relocated, classroom activities could be recreated without problems as all resources were right there..

Yes we dream but our dream is to be able to reach out to as many children as possible, and on the way give more jobs to people who have none.. and thus our magic formula remains the same: 2 shifts = 50 x 2 kid + 2 teachers @ 10K per month and it is a succesful one as proved by the school results. There are over 1.7 million kids who run the risk of dropping out.. and that is what should remain our objective if we are to be true to our mission… so the answer is no we do not dream of a building.. we do not have the time to as at every moment children are growing and mising the one chance they may still have…

So when the heat gets unberable, as it was today, we just hold on to our dream and then somehow a cool wind blows our woes away

You think you have seen it all and that you are immune to heart wrenching situations.. well beware that is not the way life is..

Utpal has now been a resident of my home fro over 2 weeks, he adjusted like a fish in water and laughs, plays, eats, sleeps and plays.. true you wonder what goes on in his little heart.. but you ensure not to mention certain words.. like mummy.. and keep your fingers crossed.. even though you try not to, you indulge him a little, and get amazed at his resilience and spirit..

So nothing prepared me for the words Utpal said to an unknown shopkeeper as he looked at some toys – meri mummy nahin hai – I do not have a mother.

My heart missed a beat, I wanted to hug him and say soothingv words, but I watched him with moist eyes respecting the dignity of the moment.. resolving with renewed determination to give him back a mummy healed, and one he can be proud of..

Mom’s are precious and you can only have one.. that is what Utpal teaches me everyday!

we have moved.. to a tiny rickety building, in gali no 3 of the very congested govindpuri area.. away from the larger spaces we had, but we have moved to our own .. the building will house our early education programme and our special a kids in two large rooms on 2 floors.. and though there may be no open spaces and other niceties somehow the kids knew instinctively that the space was ours..

on the top floor, under an asbestos (!) roof is the tiny office, one that ensures that you do not stay in and sink into a comfort zone.. the open space in front has been covered by some straw mats, and potted plants give it a special flavour.. so luch time is almost picnic time.. never mind the heat

news spaces and new rules: no cleaning staff, everyone is responsible for his own space and so on day one istelf kids and teachers were busy cleaning and setting things right..

ouside the door there is a tiny street bustling with activity and with much to discover and learn about.. so many expeditions are being planned and everyone is excited..

happy times at project why!

It was brain gym time for teamPwhy, as Sareylom held a day long workshop for our staff! Plates and flags were flung in the air amidst laughter and fun. This was the first workshop where all the staff participated..

The aim was to help individuals integrate body and mind through movement and to improve concentration, memory, reading, writing, organizing, listening, physical coordination, and more… it is all done through series of ludic excercises of deceptive simplicity.. it is only when you get down to them that each participant’s strengths and weaknesses come to light.. so the one that seems so connected and poised is at a loss when plates have to be turned in ways that would faze the best dervish.. and the quiet barely litereate creche worker impresses everyone by her dexterity..

It is for the first time that all pwhy staff competed with each other in a game of equals.. quite an experience.. particularly as the men where often the ones finding simple coordination excercises harder than rocket science..

When the idea of this workshop was mooted, I was a little apprehensive at the outcome, but all my doubts vanished as I heard the peals of laughter coming from the room… I simply tiptoed away

We will soon be moving.. from a comfortable 6 room flat to a motley medley of space. Many are a little perplexed about this change.. but it was necessary as we were slowly sinking into the comfort zone syndrome a.k.a according to me as the government job disorder.. a psychological ailment as debilitating as any of the known ones.

A strange and insidious affliction as you do not even know how and when it hits you and no one is safe from it. Hard working people leave their homes in villages to seek better pastures and the fabled government job in cities.. they soon get the bug as even if they do not get the ‘naukri‘ they acquire the syndrome. They look for employment that will ensure a secure salary and no or minimal work. They soon learn the ropes and the way to unions and courts.. On the way they lose their ability to work and above all think independently.

The safe surroundings of the seven rooms, insulated from the world outside were slowly but surely leading to us acquiring the dreaded urban bug… it was evident in the different attitudes of those still teaching in hardship conditions and those sinking in comfort zones.. so it was time to act.

Come the ides of April and our team will be shaken out of this unhealthy torpor and back to challenging spaces. Some like the special section and the babies will be housed in a small building and the primary sections will move to open spaces close to the homes of the kids… makes more sense that way..

We hope to rekindle the fire that makes pwhy what it is.. and will see that we do not sink into comfort zones again.

This may just seem a fun picture to many, but for me it is much more.. if you look with your heart..

This is our very special section.. one that has been crafted with love and patience with little souls no one wanted, let alone believed in..

Two years back little Sapna (extreme right) could not even hold her head up, today she walks talk and is full of mischief just like any other kid, Tampa now smiles her terrible ordeal a fading memory, Ruchi’s cerebral ataxia is now diagnosed and every offert wil be made to delay further damage, Anuraag can find a space where no one pushes him around and where he can cook to his hearts content, the impossible trio neha-rinky-shaheeda – spent fun filled hours practicing their newfound skills as make up artists on their pals, Munna is uttering his first words and Lucky a very new member of the family has found friends and this beautiful symphony of life is performed under masetro nanhe whose baton is his smile!

These special children are proof that life is worth living no matter what odds you face, that life is worth celebrating no matter how dismal seems.. simply because you are alive..

“He who has a strong enough why“, said Nietzsche ” can bear almost any how“. I must be blessed, having project why!

Life would stop if we stopped asking questions and seeking answers.. I guess that is why people often grow bitter in their twilight years.. there are no more why’s in our lives as everyone is seeking their own and you desperately find cracks to fill, and get msiesrable when you find there are none, so you create them and hence the infernal spiral..

You need to find a big enough why to borrow Nietzsche words, one that will fill your life and make it worth living.. with each why comes a challenge that needs a solution that you must seek. On the way you make mistakes but then you learn and set out again..

The last six years have been a wondrous journey on planet why, a journey of discovery but also a journey of inner growth.. a journey of learning where the teacher is the smile of a child people have given up on, or the will of a mother who refuses to give up!

Ramu brought his report card this morning with a beaming smile.. i remember him saying that he would stand first and he did!

Ramu lives in a cramped shack and has no place to study.. he often has to look after his siblings – babli and arzoo – as his mom comes home late.. and yet he did us all proud.

I think this reportt card needs to be shared.. as it shows how far we can reach with very little.. and vindicates the pwhy way

well done ramu

remember ramu, babli’s sullen brother who was handled with great efficiency by our knights in shining armur… well he did us proud as he stood first in his school in Class V… and that is not all, all our primary kids have passed.. even those we did not think would make it..

as the kids proudly brought their results cards, it was the teachers who came into the office with beaming faces.. somehow they seemed to be more excited than the kids..

remember these teachers are all slum people who never dreamt that they could ‘teach’.. many had to leave studies due to early marriages.. for many it is also an imperceptible social climb, as some worked in factories, others were unemployed and some even cleaned homes.. and they know that they have to prove themselves at every step.. and they have.

these spirited ladies and the Kundan the token man, know that many a times I have to defend them and that sometimes we have even been refused funds as the teachers were not trained.. but they also know that I have always defended them and stood by them quiteky stating that 100%results for six runing years was sufficient prood of their competence..

and one must not forget the kids, who have believed in us and come before or after school, sometimes travelling for over an hour sustained by the meagre meal given by the MCD schools. The kids have always been there cold, rain or heat; they have never complained about the lasck of emenities, the roadside classroom or the porcine neigbours..

so a motley team it is, but one that wins…

I do not know Anshu Kumari.. I just hope someone had shown her the way to our heartFix Hotel..

A leading TV channel aired her story. It went like this: An 11-year-old girl in Bihar is awaiting help for her heart surgery despite President APJ Kalam offering to bear the expenses for the treatment. Anshu Kumari was born with a blockage in her heart. Her father, a security guard, cannot afford the treatment.
On a visit to Bihar in December, the President had promised to pay for the surgery needed to save Anshu’s life. But three months later, there is still no sign of help and Anshu’s treatment hasn’t started…

This is the endemic problem that plagues us.. the huge gap between good intentions, programmes.. and the people they are meant for. Tritherapy for AIDS is now free, but few HIV +ve patients know about it, and even if they manage to reach centres, the way they are treated ensures they never return; many programmes for children never reach them as their parents do not have the voice needed to ask for their rights.. and the list is endless.. some people benefit, the task payer pays but the beneficiary gets nothing..

Good governance is today’s leit motiv and often quoted as a panacea for all ills.. as a first step maybe people like us should take on the simple task of acting as a bridge and beeing the voice of those who still have to learn to speak up.. It is encouraging to see that the voice of the people is now being heard, at least to redress wrong.. but the next step is to inform ourselves of the reality around and ensure action..

In Jammu and Kashmir relocated families are forced to see their children as rations promised were stopped and no work was available.. again a report that was aired today..

We need to take initiatives.. as we have all the tools needed from the Right to Information Act to the judicial system.. till every person garners the courage to speak, we have to be their voice.. and not wait for others tp do so, we have to learn to look with our hearts and beyond ourselves..

If a small project like ours could manage to get 5 heart surgeries done.. anyone can..

One simply has to want to take the first step

nanhe is in hospital again.. and we are worried.. he was doing much better and we were waiting for the doctors to decide upon the next surgery.. two days ago he was unwell and was taken to hospital where he had a series of fit.. he was admitted immediately..

nanhe recovered from the fits but seemed to have disconnected and lost part of his hearing.. he was discharged but yesterday his fits appeared again and he is now in hospital in poor shape.. his smile lost somewhere in the recesses of his brain..

The doctors seem at a loss and we are all distressed.. and praying for a miracle.. and the return of his smile

For young Sandhya the wait continues.. after her chicken pox got over and the 61 K were deposited, sanhya went to AIIMS and we were hoping that a date for her angiography and subsequent surgery would be given fast. Well for some reason or the other it was not and the date written on the green card was 15 may 2006, 7 weeks from now.

sandhya, as some of you may remember hails from a small village in Bihar. Her father is according to sandhya’s mom ‘simple minded’ and cannot work much. they survive on the meagre income they get from the little land they have..

They came to Delhi after Sandhya’s debilitating ailment was detected and live with a sister-in-law in a tiny hovel.. now 7 weeks is a long time.. and guests can start feeling unwelcome.. but were Sandhya to go back, I fear that many would advise on the futility of making the trip again and wasting more money.. don’t forget Sandhya is just a girl.. this is when the famous gender issues we highlight take their most poignant form..

We will try our level best to pre-pone the date, it has become a matter of life and death!

great bike.. all boys want one some day.. a valid dream that can be yours if you work hard would be the normal line to pitch..

well not quite as one has been witnessing with growing panic..

our ersthwile quiet world has been invaded by a new army.. and eebiz is the buzz.. in the past few months in spite of our best efforts, there is a proliferation of new recruits all in their newfound attire of black pants and white shirts and black ties..

the pyramid sale vessel has landed in our slum.. and two captains selected from our very own to lead the new army. One of them is our very first class X student..

the buzz is that 7500rs can give you the world.. learn and earn.. join the internet highway.. just buy a self learning education package!

Stop I scream.. the people targeted are practically illiterate and can barely survive.. but who is listening when the captains have got gleaming bikes and even a ford fiesta… and as more gullible people go scurrying to borrow the needed sum at alarming interest rates, young people get drawn into the net as the captains earn more..

but there are subtler dangers, the unexpressed jealousy and resentment.. the possible violence that can take all kind of hues when people lose all they have invested.. when the promised money remains elusive and the money lender’s is at your doorstep..

Recently many articles were written on young Rubiya from Kerala, a muslim girl who is a bharatnatyam dancer and has danced since age 3.. often to sustain her family. When shunned by the local mosque committee this 17 year old retorts with rare wisdom:“God is one. When I pay ritualistic obeisance through mudras , I am imploring not just the Hindu gods but the supreme creator, which we call by different names.”

The woman in the picture is Saira Bano, and yes she wears sindoor and a bindi! She is the perfect example of the good grassroot politician.. A midwife by profession, she became a social activist to help women and their families..

Armed with courage and rare common sense, she slowly established her network that includes the local politicians and administrators who all cannot help but admire her.. She is the one who helped us set up our okhla programme and stood there at every step, negotiating with goons and cops with her determined smile and never-say-die attitude.. and even got the local SHO (police in charge) and the local municipal corporator to our Republic day celebrations.

Asked about sindoor and bindis.. she retorts: When in Rome.. do as the romans do – for her it was an easier way to get entry into homes..

Now the question everyone wants to ask is about the reaction of her brethren: her answer is simple.. a mussalman is one with true Iman or honour, and that she has.. and as long as her husband and children understand her, she is not afraid of of anyone..

Incredible women in Incredible India

Went to what at best could be called a funding fantasy.

The cause AIDS children in the north eastern states of India; the venue: an up market club; the sponsors: jewellery tycoons; the guest list: Delhi’s very own page almost 3; the chief guest: a minister.. food and drinks; the mandatory fashion show that went on and on; an auction that never happened because there was always an anonymous bidder that bid more than the bidder (seems fishy) and a quiz that did not ask questions about AIDs but about how many diamonds were in the bustier the lady wore in the picture on the screen..! and the finale: a cheap rendering of the actual charbuster where a poor woman gyrated amidst cat calls..

This is not fantasy or an imaginary event, I attended it myself though I had to keep pinching my arm to believe it was real..

rewind to 12 years back
My thoughts went back to a charity event organised in France some years back, where the main message the organisers and the VIP invitees wanted to put across was the need to show people that HIV +ve people could be touched and hugged and this was done with dignity and grace.. I almost felt like going to the mike and telling people that there were some HIV positive people among the guests.. wonder what would have happened..

rewind to 10 years back
I cannot forget the time I spent at Micahel’s care, a haven where people with AID could die with dignity, and the words of a young north easterm mother who was close to death: just sit by me and hold my hand didi.. I did..

rewind to 10 weeks back
In the ward where nanhe was admitted, was a child with high fever. he had lost his parents and was there with his aunt.. all was well till the tests results came back.. he was HIV +ve. The nursing staff’s behaviour changed with immediate effect and as the buzz started attitudes changed.. needless to say he was gone the next time I visited. I felt sorry as I had come with information about the new free tri-therapy.. and in spite of my bst efforts , I could notfind the family.I just have his picture and his smile and keep wondering: is he still smiling...

This is the India we live… And notwithstanding how much the charity made that evening, I wish they had used the evening to spread a little awareness about AIDs.

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..