by Anuradha Bakshi | Oct 21, 2010 | Uncategorized
You have a soft corner for the under privileged, which is so good. People generally don’t have time to spare a thought for the children of a lesser God said the comment on my post Game Over! A few days later a surprise note on a social network urged people to reach out to project like ours. The note aptly entitled the inconvenience of charity was written by a dear friend.
Seemed like some Jungian synchronicity!
For the past weeks I have been wondering how I would address our everlasting and never ending funding issue for the coming year and find the missing numbers. I was running out of words and did not know where to begin. I too am aware of the strains of the purse strings even when the heart is big. But I am also aware of the hundreds of Children of a Lesser God who depend on my capacity to once again pa(e)nhandle with conviction. For the past 10 years I have tried to perfect the art of panhandling and the fact that I am still at it after a decade goes to show that I must have done so with a good measure of success. But each year there are missing numbers that require to be met. I guess this is again a trick of my friend the God of Lesser Beings who wants to ensure that I never sink into a comfort zone and thus forget what my true mission is.
Panhandling is very humbling particularly for one who had always found money matters to be infradig. That was before pwhy and before my encounter with children of a Lesser God. Once they came into my life, things changed at the speed of light and what was once hateful simple became par to the course. Thus began my years of soliciting help from one and all. To say it was easy would be an untruth. And yet it had to be done because each coin that was dropped my way transformed in a smile as if by magic.
In a way I am glad that things have not come easy. This has enabled me to appreciate the true value of what I hold in custody. As my friend aptly said it is nothing short of trying to climb Kilimanjaro or run a desert marathon. And yet I find myself doing it each and every day with joy. And though the God of Lesser Beings does play his tricks, he also creates the right backdrop each time I find myself in doubt. Just like this time when he gently reminded me of my soft corner for the underprivileged. I must admit that there are times when the bones ache and the pace slackens and I find myself wondering how much longer. But these moments are mercifully short and fleeting. All that is needed to call me back to order is a little hand that finds mine or a cheek quietly proffered for a kiss.
So here I am again seeking help and support or as a young friend once said here I am seeking permission to continue. And this is truly what it is. I am asking you to allow us to carry on what we are doing: ensuring that one more batch of students complete their studies or move into the next class, ensuring that a group of little souls are able to acquire the skills needed to enter the portals of a school, ensuring that a bunch of very special kids spend one more day of their lives in laughter and joy. Simple things that should ordinarily happen without much ado, but that often come at a price for children of a lesser God. Every penny we sought and continue to seek is to do just that. No more, no less.
by Anuradha Bakshi | Oct 20, 2010 | Uncategorized
The scooter stopped at the red light. This was the light next to my house, the one where I had encountered my little beggar girl many months back, the one where I often found myself rummaging in my bag for some of the goodies I carry to give out to the little beggar children that crowd around my auto. For the past three weeks not a single child greeted me as courtesy the Commonwealth Games all beggars had been rounded up and hidden away. So for the past weeks I had sat quietly in my auto and continued reading my book. That was exactly what I was doing when I felt a tug at my pants and heard a little voice demanding: Chocorate, chocorate! I instantly looked up and there was one of my little beggar girls. They were back. By they I mean the beggars that live under the flyover next to my home and beg at the red light. And chocorate is the generic used by the children to demand the goodies I carry. It could be a biscuit, a banana, a toffee or a bar of chocolate. They all knew that I never gave money.
I looked at the child woefully as my bag was empty but promised her chocorate the next day. She looked at me first crossly but then gave me a huge smile and set off to knock at the next car window. The gang was back in business as the games were over. I must admit I felt a sense of relief in seeing them back. Maybe we were finally getting back our lost soul. Please do not misunderstand me. I am not offering an apology for begging, far from that as it is something I abhor and was the first why I wanted to address but sadly could not. Our nutritive biscuit programme failed miserably. We did not find any takers.I guess people were just not ready to accept their part of responsibility. We still had to learn the art of looking into people’s eyes.
As I said it was comforting to see that the beggars were back because I wondered where they had been banished to and feared for them. Their return proved that nothing had really changed. You see beggars are not a real problem for the satraps that rule us. They were simply and embarrassment, something you were sort of ashamed of and needed to hide while you supposedly put your best foot forward. So you hid them and now that the show is over you let them lose again. You are not ready to assume responsibility and address the problem. It makes me see red. We are talking of people and of children who should not be knocking at your car window but sitting on a school bench. They should not be asking for chocorate but learning to spell the word correctly!
by Anuradha Bakshi | Oct 19, 2010 | manu
You are one of those few people I know who truly love what they are doing wrote a friend. Innocuous words at first but they got me thinking and setting of on an inward journey. For the past ten years I have been so caught up in keeping the ship afloat that I have rarely given myself time to take a back seat, catch my breath and savour moments the way I should have. But my friend’s remark made me stop in my tracks and realise that what she said was incredibly true. For the past ten years, in spite of all the problems and hardships I have truly loved what I have been doing. I guess it is sometimes a sense of perhaps misplaced decency that refrained me from letting out whoops of joy each time something special occurred. My friend’s question ultimately nudged me to ask myself the question: who am I today.
Who am I? I do not know how many of us ask ourselves this question over time. There can be simple answers. You are from a particular country, of a particular gender, have a particular profession, a particular religion, a certain age and so on. So I am Indian, an old woman, a social worker etc. Some of these markers can change with time, some stay with you for a life time. Some of not much consequence. The others are the ones you build yourself and have the liberty to alter and even change. And the question you need to ask yourself is Who am I, today!
Often you are portrayed through your relationships with another so you become a good or bad daughter, spouse, friend, sibling, citizen and so on. But here again the description is insufficient and inadequate leaving you still wondering who you truly are.
Another friend recently wrote about the importance of finding your voice. It was an innocuous remark pertaining to a very specific situation but somehow it struck a deep chord inside me. It seemed an answer to a deep search I had embarked on, the search of who I truly was. Over the past 10 years, when I began the pwhy journey I have felt more and more alienated by what was once comfortable and sufficient. As pwhy grew so did my loneliness. The situation was paradoxical as when I set up pwhy I was painfully alone but pwhy brought innumerable new souls into my life. Then why the loneliness? Perhaps because I suddenly felt alone in my world, perhaps because all reference points suddenly seemed pointless and empty. I realised that the time had come to redefine myself but that was no easy task.
With each step on the pwhy road I felt I moved away by quantum leaps from the world that I had known and found ample. Suddenly it felt painfully deficient. Once I had crossed the invisible line I had unwillingly abdicated the right to be one of my erstwhile peers. I had done the unthinkable in a land where you were conditioned to remain in your determined framework. If you did dare venture out of the box you had to be prepared to pay the price. Sounds cryptic. Let me try and elucidate.
Say you belong to a particular social class, then all your activities are defined by it. Your conversations, your likes and dislikes and so on on are almost predefined and that is the world you are meant to navigate in. Now say you have tasted other flavors and dare bring them into the closed doors of your predetermined orb, you are immediately considered persona non grata! I remember how quickly people moved away from me when I use to try talking about pwhy in up market parties. I felt like a pariah. But the other side of the coin was that the other world was not ready to accept you as one of them. There you were put on a pedestal and had to remain there and that is when the loneliness set in. You suddenly became no one’s child. And yet you so wanted to belong at least somewhere. It was a real predicament and there seemed to be no ready answer.
But slowly as time passed , people grew less in awe of you and more willing to accept you. True these people would never become your intellectual sparring partners, but they surrounded you with so much love that you once again felt content and wanted. Wonder who they are? Let me introduce you to some of them. It is Utpal and his endearing ways, Manu and his lopsided smile that greets me every morning, the band of special children and their cheerful Good Morning Ma’am, the tiny creche kids, the Okhla children, the Khader children and their incredible smiles. But that is not all: it is also the Lohar ladies who never failed to produce a syrupy cup of tea and a lovely hand slapped roti; the innumerable families who have always opened their homes and heart to me; the simple people who illuminate my day every single morning and make it worth living.
So today I am above all Anou Ma’am and I like what I see and truly feel that this is who I want to be till the end of my days.
by Anuradha Bakshi | Oct 17, 2010 | Uncategorized
It is finally over.. I mean the CWG and we can all get back to our lives.. or so I hope. Games over, let the audit begin scream headlines as everyone is on overdrive trying to exonerate themselves and pass the buck. Committees are being formed, agencies roped in to examine all charges. I do hope something does come out of it but why then am I feeling so despondent. I guess, without being a cynic, it is because of a sense of deja vu.
A few days back I urged everyone to spare a thought for the myriad of workers who had toiled to ensure that the show happened. Salute them we must. Today another touching set of pictures brought the same people to mind. A photo essay entitled the Other Games, depicts the plight of the CWG children. The worker’s kids who played their own set of games well before the Games began. It is extremely touching and speaks volumes. Again I gently urge you to spend some time looking at the pictures. I did and as I looked at the innocent faces I could not stop myself from asking the loud question that begged to be asked: where were they today? Most of these children’s families, like thousands of others were brought from other states. Wonder whether they are still in this city or have gone back home. Wonder whether their parents have found jobs. And if they are still here do they have a roof on their heads? Questions crowd the mind. Don’t these children have rights like all the other children of India. Right to education to begin with. Yet while their parents toiled they were left to their own devise in makeshift inhuman shelters or on the pavement, living their childhood as best they could. Who usurped their rights? I guess we all did and must bear the shame.
As the mud slinging continues and the enquiries get on their way my thoughts go to all those who lost their homes because of the Games, to those who lost their livelihood, to those who were compelled to leave the city for the hallowed fortnight as there was no work. To my Lohar friends whose life changed forever simply because they lived on a road guests would zip past. Will the enquiries, audits, probes give them back what they have lost. No way. They will need to rescript their lives and reinvent themselves. Wonder if they will be able to do so. Hope the God of Lesser Beings will once again conjure a miracle.
by Anuradha Bakshi | Oct 16, 2010 | Uncategorized
There was a PTM at the boarding school yesterday and as always it was pure joy to see our exceptional eight! It was also Kiran‘s birthday and she had decided to celebrate it with her special pal Utpal and his friends. So we had chocolate cake and pizza and other goodies. It was a quaint birthday party held in the housemother’s room, with a band of very special children and lot of laughter and cheer.
But that was not the highlight of the day. You may wonder what it was then? Well it was little Manisha who just could not stop smiling. Her happiness was infectious and heartwarming. She just beamed all the time, her smile getting bigger if you asked her if she was happy at school! In two months she had put on weight and was looking for want of a better word: sparkling!
It was indeed a special moment to see this child who just a few months ago had been living in a hell hole and who by a twist of fate or should I say by the grace of my friends the God of lesser beings, saw her life touched by a miracle. The tears and anxiety for the past were gone for ever and in its place was this big huge smile that said it all. I tried to imagine what could have been going in her little head but stopped myself as it may just have taken away the pure magic of that blessed moment.
Once more I say Chapeau Bas to the God of lesser beings!
You have a soft corner for the under privileged, which is so good. People generally don’t have time to spare a thought for the children of a lesser God said the comment on my post Game Over! A few days later a surprise note on a social network urged people to reach out to project like ours. The note aptly entitled the inconvenience of charity was written by a dear friend.
