by Anuradha Bakshi | Mar 6, 2009 | Uncategorized
pwhy @ 1K is no arcane formula or cryptic code. It is simply the result of the latest headcount of the project why family. Amazing is it not?
It is the time of the year when one has to begin thinking of annual reports and balance sheets, and thus the time of the year when one asks for recent demographics and statistics. And to my utter astonishment they added up to a little under 1K. Yes the project family now has almost a thousand members. Wow! It has taken less than a decade to reach te magic figure.
What takes my breath away is that it all happened quietly and without much ado. One child after the other, one centre after the other, one dream after the other. True there were obstacles and challenges, some even mind boggling but they pale in front of the achievements and successes.
Allow me to give you a glimpse of the pwhy family at this very moment. As I write these words, there are children sitting for their dreaded board examinations, others preparing for their end year tests. There are little ones about to leave the prep class and live their first day in a big school and there are women about to complete their courses and begin their journey as earning members of their family. A bunch of special children are putting the last touches on the wall painting they have created in their classroom with the help of their volunteer pal Flore and tiny tots are on the verge of performing their first French song courtesy Caroline. And keeping them all safe and secure in a motley crew of teachers whose common denominator is their commitment and passion for the work they do. And all this adds up to the 1k souls under the pwhy umbrella!
by Anuradha Bakshi | Mar 3, 2009 | manu
We humans love having an escape route at all times. It allows us to get out of situations that could become uncomfortable, or leaves us the option of changing pour minds without feeling shamefaced. Such escape routes are often vague and poorly defined notions and yet they do the trick when used.
The latest one is recession. Today everything is being validated by the simple use of the word recession. Even those who do not quite know what it means manage to hurl the word at your face in sometimes quite ludicrous ways. I am not in anyway suggesting that things are tickety-boo and that all is well around us. Far from that.
My heart goes out to those who have got pink slips and those living with the fear of losing their jobs. I understand the despair of those who gambled on the stock markets and lost. I feel the pain of those unable to pay their mortgages and who live with the fear of seeing themselves without a roof on their heads. These are real situations. What I am referring to is the unreal ones where people use recession as a possible escape route for the future; when people bluntly tell you that they may not be able to meet their paltry commitments in the future because of recession. What irks me no end is the general attitude of gloom that we all sink in rather than try and analyse why things turned from bad to worse, why we did not see it coming, and above all whether we are responsible for them in anyway. No we simply seem to be grateful for having found a way to explain our own inadequacies.
I was horrified when some time back I heard a young couple take a huge loan to go on holiday to some exotic destination. Both had landed themselves grossly overpaid jobs and though they were still on probation but the hubris was such, that they felt secure and safe. I would have thought that the collapse of things would have got us to soul search and redefine our lives rather than hold our heads and mumble the word recession ad nauseum. I would also have liked to hope that the situation we all find ourselves in would have made us look at life through different glasses and retrieve the lost values that withstand the test of times for the crisis we face is a moral one.
If we think about it, what is it that sends us chasing impossible dreams: a feeling of emptiness that we need to fill. For the past decades we have been trying to fill it with material things and our greed was such that we did not see the writing on the wall and the debt trap we were getting caught in. When the house of cards came tumbling down we were again faced with a huge void.
It is time to fill this void and this time to do it wisely. Perhaps it is time to assess what our needs are and ensure that we do not confuse them with our wants. And then if there is still a huge hole we need to fill, let us try and fill it with the right things, the ones that withstand all storms. I am not pontificating. There was a time when I too sought escape routes and material pursuits to fill the gaping holes of my life. I was lucky to stop in time as I stumbled upon one who did not have the luxury to dream of wants or needs but simply held on to life: Manu. The rest is history. I had found the road to my grail and the way to fill all the holes in my life. I did not need any more escape routes.
So life in the times of recession means holding on to the dreams of many souls and ensure that they do not die.
by Anuradha Bakshi | Mar 2, 2009 | Uncategorized
“You can shed tears that she is gone,
or you can smile because she has lived.
You can close your eyes and pray that she’ll come back,
or you can open your eyes and see all she’s left.
Your heart can be empty because you can’t see her,
or you can be full of the love you shared.
You can turn your back on tomorrow and live yesterday,
or you can be happy for tomorrow because of yesterday.
You can remember her only that she is gone,
or you can cherish her memory and let it live on.
You can cry and close your mind,
be empty and turn your back.
Or you can do what she’d want:
smile, open your eyes, love and go on.”
David Harkins
We just heard about the passing away of our dear friend Mylene Chossat. We are stunned beyond words. Mylene was life itself and to think that she is no more is difficult to believe, let alone accept. Memories of her rush to my shocked mind. I remember the day she first came, impeccably dressed and said in her gentle voice that she wanted to help us. In those days we were housed in a small jhuggi that you reached after weaving your way across overflowing drains and mud paths and I wondered how this beautiful and well groomed lady in her high heels would survive the ordeal. But nothing could stop or deter this extraordinary lady.
At that time we had just begun our creche and she being a specialist in the field decided that she would help us set it up. And boy she did! She adopted us and became our dear Mylene Ma’am. For the next four years, she came regularly and took on the task of setting up our timetable, teaching the staff new activities and helping us face every crisis. She established incredible bonds with our creche staff. Language was no barrier. One talked with the heart. And when she was leaving she invited the creche staff to tea to her home. It was mind boggling to see the bunch of slum ladies in their best clothes sharing blueberry cheese cake with their friend Mylene. Everyone was to the manor born and all differences had been cast away, at least for that precious afternoon.
I could go in writing volumes about the wonderful moments we shared with her. But, I will simply ask you to look at the picture above as it shows truly the woman we admired and loved. I know that from the heavens above she must be happy to see that Kiran and Utpal are now in big schools and little Manoj has finally learnt to walk.
Yes we we cherish her memory that lives on in each of the children touched by her and smile, open our eyes, love and go on. That is what she would have wanted us to do.
May she rest in peace.
by Anuradha Bakshi | Feb 25, 2009 | Uncategorized
If I can change one life, it would have been worth it is something I often say when asked about pwhy! I must admit that over the last 9 years we have managed to change many. Be it turning a failure into a topper, or fixing holes in broken hearts. I must confess that in most cases the realisation that we had achieved something was in hindsight, when one sat writing reports or reviewing times gone by.
I must again thank a little boy for having allowed me to experience one of the greatest moments of my life. Let me tell you how it happened.
Yesterday was the day when we had decided to take Babli to her new school. Everything was fixed and one of our staff was to accompany the little girl. On the eve of D day, I decided to call little Utpal in school and ask him if he wanted something. I was not breaking any rules as Mondays are when when one can call him. After the normal hellos and how are yous I asked my question. After a few seconds he said biscuits and chips and then in his tiny voice he added: tum bhi ajao (you also come). It was enough to get the old biddy to change all plans. Calls were made and plans altered. Ma’am had decided to accompany Babli to school.
On the scheduled morning we sat in my home waiting for the car to come. Babli sat quietly on a small chair and as I looked at her little determined face I suddenly realised that I was witnessing a stupendous moment: the transformation of a life. Nothing short of a miracle. Babli should not have been sitting here at all. Just a couple of years ago she was barely able to breathe, her little heart in need of serious repairs. And even after the much needed operation, she should have been at best in a government school and coming to pwhy like all little girls, in the afternoon. But that was not to be. We found her one day manning her father’s cart, and the sight of this bright child sitting on top of a cart selling tobacco was blood curdling. We set out on a damage control mission but it fell short of what we truly wanted for this child. And yet at that moment we were helpless as we had no options. Is that when I sent a prayer to the God of lesser beings? Maybe I did. I do not really know.
Babli went back to her municipal school, one where in her own words, teachers do not come and if they do turn up they do not teach. We continued looking for better options but nothing was forthcoming. I must confess that we felt desolate and a tad helpless at seeing this bright child waste away in front of our eyes but there was nothing we could do. We did not know that the God of lesser beings was at work, setting the stage for the miracle to come. Time went by, we were busy in our little lives and forgot about Babli. Fabulous things were happening: a potential donor had entered our lives and we were busy dreaming grand dreams. Actually we were counting our chickens before the eggs were hatched. Our dreams came tumbling down but not before another prop was set for Babli’s tomorrow. The foster care programme that was thrust upon was an indubitable reality and as we set out looking for kids, the first name that came to our minds was that of Babli. The rest is history. Babli took to her new life at our tiny centre like a fish to water and one year down the line she is ready to take a giant leap into the future. The script that had looked awry many a times was now revealed and the miracle that took 3 years in the making was now there for all to see. This was no celluloid tale or Kodak moment. This tiny slumGirl was ready to take on the world and become a millionaire in her own way. As I said earlier it was truly a phenomenal moment and I was privileged enough to witness it thanks to the pleading of a little boy.
Every step of that incredible journey from my kitchen to the little bed in a dorm was picture perfect and moving. Babli sat in dignified silence throughout the journey, only answering when talked to. She was lost in her thoughts and I would have given up my life to be privy to them but I simply kept silent. We reached school and again Babli waited patiently while we completed the formalities. By then it was 12pm and refreshment time. As we walked towards the hostel, a little hand caught hold of mine: it was Utpal. Babli was his old pal and soon they set off to stand in line to get their two bananas. Babli’s journey had begun and Utpal was there to guide her. We were already de trop!
After handing over Babli to the hostel staff, it was time to say bye bye. I mouthed the required: take care of yourself and listen to your teachers etc but it was really not needed. A simple look at Babli”s face was enough to know that this little woman of substance knew more than anything one else that she held the reins of her destiny in her own hands and she was not one to let go till she reached the end of the race.
by Anuradha Bakshi | Feb 23, 2009 | Uncategorized
Jai Ho sang India as Oscars dropped Slumdog Millionaire‘s way. It was a day of celebration indeed and India was on cue, a fact dutifully reported all day long by all media channels. Larger than life images were aired again and again for all to see. India walked the legendary red carpet in more ways than one. Bollywood heroes and little slum kids in smart tuxedos and designer dresses walked side by side. For a few hours at least all differences seemed to have been forgotten.
I do not know how long the Slumdog euphoria will last. How long will it take for India to slink back into its usual indifference. And quite frankly I do not know what the real excitement is really all about. Slumdog was undoubtedly an excellent film and deserved all the kudos. it got but what I ask myself is whether anyone really looked and saw what lay behind the stunning pictures and lilting music. What actually set my thoughts this way was the reaction of a friend after he saw the film. He was simply horrified at the blinding scene in the film and was aghast to learn that this was the rule rather than the exception. And I guess this must have been the reaction of many, as in India we rarely look beyond what we want to see.
I watched the film again, this time trying to look beyond the glitz and glare, and realised that Slumdog Millionaire touched upon many issues that I have tried to highlight for many years now be it the abhorring plight of the beggar racket, or the desperate predicament of women caught in the spiral of the flesh trade, or the hijacked childhood of little children born at the wrong time in the wrong place. The film touched upon these issues in a poignant way but then follows its course and transcends into a story of love and hope, culminating in its Kodak moment both in the film and in reality: the boy getting his girl on a railway platform or the final walk on a red carpet!
My story does not end there. I have tried over the years and to the best of my ability to take the story further and highlight the uncomfortable reality that permeates our social fabric. What I mean is vindicated in the success of Slumdog Millionaire. It has taken a film made by an outsider to see what lay under our noses. I only hope that we are able to keep on looking and seeing.
