by Anuradha Bakshi | Dec 21, 2008 | fostercare, manu
As I was browsing the innumerable pictures that sit on my computer, I came across this one, taken a few weeks ago by a friend who had dropped by. I guess she must have snapped the shot as she was leaving and the children and staff waved her farewell from the rooftop. I do not how, but I had missed this one till today.
I looked at the picture for a long time and somehow it set the mood for some muted musings, something that had not happened for a long time as one seemed always hijacked by some crises or the other. The silhouettes of the kids etched across an almost pristine blue sky seem to echo to the T the mood I find myself in as the year draws to a end.
It has been an eventful year to say the least. From our terrible struggle to salvage our land, to the continuous one to keep project why and its new avatars alive one had been on one’s toes, not having even a moment to take a back seat and simply enjoy the incredible happenings that have dotted the year.
I do not know how and when the women centre grew from a tiny handful of 5o kids to almost 300. I did not have time to pour over the regular reports the foster care kids brought home and count the stars they proudly displayed. I barely had time to dance with the special kids or play with the tiny ones. Like the proverbial character in the song of sixpence, I just seemed to have spent the year in my counting house simply trying to ensure that each day flowed in to the other. Days flew by, each with its tiny miracle that went unnoticed, at least by me. Children quietly moved from one class to the next, two batches of women got their tailoring certificates, our hearing impaired girls got their hearing aids and heard their first sound, Manu took his first bath without help, and 7 super kids learnt the art of inclusive living. And this is just the tip of the iceberg. If I were to list all the marvels that dotted the year gone by, I would need to write a book.
I had not realised it till this very moment but the year gone by was one that saw the realisation of long cherished dreams: the one that was conjured silently almost a decade back when I first lay eyes on Manu and dreamt of a soft bed for him, or the one barely evoked by a teenage girl. And it was not just the fulfillment of personal dreams but also of those barely mouthed by desperate souls, be it the sightless woman whose husband’s life was at stake, or the little boy whose mother was in danger.
It has been an incredible and blessed year. And I am glad the picture that had passed me by came to the fore today as it allowed me to remember all I had to be grateful for. Sure the sun will rise again, and the muted silhouettes will become sharp and distinct reminding me of the struggle that lies ahead, but today I just want to revel in my muted musings.
by Anuradha Bakshi | Dec 19, 2008 | fostercare, manu
Yesterday our four little foster care kids celebrated their first annual day in their little prep school. While the three older ones were dancing, little Aditya was an elephant in a Panchatantra tale. Babli, Nikhil, Vicky and Aditya are incredible kids. For the past 8 months they have been living with their very special pals Manu, Champa and Anjali. And they all are truly a terrific seven!
A year back they lived dreary lives and barely knew each other. In a few months they will take their first step in brand new world when they join little Utpal in his boarding school where a a whole new world await them.
These four kids have done us proud. They have secured excellent marks in their terminal examinations and have truly walked the talk! Yesterday, as I watched them get ready for their big show my heart filled with pride. How little it took to change the world of a child. Their willingness to accept new ways and excel in them is truly touching. They seem to know intuitively that what is happening to them is special.
My thoughts go back to the days when the whole programme had been put in question as support we thought we had secured was withdrawn without an explanation. I remember the sleepless nights I spent wondering how to salvage the programme at least for these four kids. I recall the reactions I got from those I approached for help. To many, giving quality education to slum children was anathema. And yet I could not send back these kids to their homes; I could not take back dreams that their parents had conjured.
Thank God, there were friends who felt the way I did and soon a wonderful network was created to try and help these children. Asha Seattle and Asha Canada have adopted this project and others have promised to help.
One must remember that this is a long haul. The children have to be able to complete their education that they are just beginning. It is also a long term commitment and one does not know what awaits us. It is not simply a matter of funds, for the next decade or so these children will depend on us at every step. One will have to be there at each PTM, smooth bruised egos , laud every achievement, chide when needed and heal every hurt. We too embark on a new journey, one we know will be filled with wonderful moments but also challenging ones.
My mind again travels back to the time where I first laid eyes on each of them. The day Babli told me herself that she needed an operation but that the family did not have the money. And then long after the operation the terrible day when I found out that Babli had stopped going to school. My mind also goes back to the very first time little Aditya walked into our lives a lost child with his huge eyes filled with questions. or the day we first moment I saw Vicky in the arms of his mother as we visited his family? Children whose dreams had been put on hold by seemingly insurmountable circumstance. And yet the god of lesser beings had his own plan. One that took many twists and turns but ultimately brought these children together under one roof and salvaged all dreams just as he had done for little Utpal.
In a few months these children will fly to another coop. We will miss them but for them it is the only way to go.
by Anuradha Bakshi | Dec 16, 2008 | Uncategorized
5000 crores! A mind boggling figure! I do not even know how many zeroes it has and yet this is what private schools in India make by simply selling nursery school admission forms and this is no loose statistic but the result of a survey made by the ASSOCHAM Social Development Foundation (ASDF).
It is again that time of the year when public and upmarket schools open their hallowed doors to new entrants: the little nursery babies. For the past year or more I have watched with growing horror the plight of parents and their tiny wards as they set off to fulfill all the modalities required to get admission in a good school. The drama seems to be endless and with its share of unexpected twists and turns. Just as you feel that things may just have fallen in place, a new bombshell hits you. After innumerable court orders, commission decisions and more of the same, the (ill)famed point system seemed to have been the chosen mode, but as some autonomy was left to each school, we were lights years away from the promised fair, transparent, etc process.
The shocker was indeed the recent survey and the mind boggling revelation: in Delhi alone good public schools are likely to earn revenues by selling prospectus to an extent of Rs.5,000 crore. Some school charge 1000 rs for their prospectus and the average a parent spends on buying prospectuses is 5000 rs. There is no guaranteed admission and one has not even begun talking about the fees, admission charges and donations asked.
Education is the new lucrative business on the block.
Yesterday a metro channel aired a call in programme on nursery admissions. Two guests were invited: one a upmarket school principal and the other an ASSOCHAM rep. Many harrowed parents called in, each asking candid questions or sharing some of their angst. The guests did not quite answer the proffered queries but debated their own viewpoints. While one defended the case of the public schools the other pleaded for some regulatory system. Needless to say the debate was heated and got nowhere.
All this is terribly troubling particularly in a scenario where humbler parents are wanting a better education for their children and where state run schools seem to be growing from bad to worse by the day. I cannot forget the plight of little Kiran’s admission.
It is a strange situation. The children of India have acquired their supposed right to education after almost half of century of independence, and yet the bill is still on its slow way to implementation. The feeble voices raised in favour of a quality neighbourhood common school are loudly being shut down by interested lobbies: those of the public schools as yo will all agree it is all about money, honey!
In the midst of all this, little children are being forgotten. It almost seems like everyone is conspiring to keep the majority of children away from the so called good schools. And that is another matter of debate: who decides which school is good?
One had no choice but to agree that in spite of recession and tumbling markets children still need to be educated and hence education becomes a lucrative option. Every business house seems to have its own school and new public schools are being opened everywhere. On the other hand government schools which have prime locations and ample land seem to be deteriorating by the day making us believe that the lobbies are working well. Education is truly the new business on the block.
Who will bell the cat? No one I guess and yet the idea of a good common school has to be mooted and accepted. Perhaps not for the ones who can afford the mind boggling costs but for the many who feel they have acquired the right to give their children a better education. Getting your child into a good school should be easy and affordable, not the mortifying experience it seems to have become.
A good common school where teachers are selected through and IAS like competition and given sterling work conditions, children who can walk to a school that does not look like a 7* extravaganza, but an even playing ground that reflects the unity in diversity that India is. An impossible dream? Maybe, but dreams do come true sometimes.
by Anuradha Bakshi | Dec 16, 2008 | Uncategorized
We have our library! And like everything else at pwhy it is a happy and even funky one. For me this is a very special moment. Many do not know, but when it all began, almost a decade ago, I had dreamt of pwhy being a space where children could come and be children for at least a little part of their day. A place where they could read, play, laugh and just be kids. That was before I had come face to face with the realities that surrounded us: the poor state of schools, the need to arrest drop out rates and so on. So the dream was shelved and our journey as a education support programme began.
But dreams never leave you once you have conjured them and somehow forces are silently at work to conspire to make them happen. Almost a year ago a mail from someone I did not know then dropped by. Another soul thousands of miles away had a similar dream: to bring thousands of books to children in India. Six months ago the books did land. We began a small library in the women centre, an instant success with the children! But most of the books lay quietly in cartons waiting for the right moment for want of space.
Then a small gift made the impossible possible. We decided to knock down our old jhuggi and build our library and children centre. And uncanny but true it would be in the very space where it all began, the place where our very first spoken English class was held. To crown it all this was when three graffiti artistes from France offered to decorate some part of pwhy: it was to be the library.
As I write these words the books are still in cartons and the paint still fresh but a few weeks from now the library will open and children of the area will have a place where they can come and reclaim their childhood.
The library is the realisation of a long cherished dream. It could not have happened without our friends from the omprakash foundation – Willy, Gordon, Lily – and our graffiti artist friends – Miguel, Martin and Ken. Bless them all
by Anuradha Bakshi | Dec 15, 2008 | manu
Last week the world celebrated the 60th anniversary of the signing of the Universal Declaration of Human Rights. On that day the Alliance Francaise had a special celebration. Three graffiti artists from France made live paintings while musicians performed. Pwhy was invited and we had set up an information table and made a power point presentation that was looped through most of the evening bringing the smiles of the pwhy children to warm the chilly evening.
I had to make a speech and while writing it I had to do two things: read the Human Rights Declaration again and then link it to our work. While doing so I realised how privileged we were as most of our rights were protected all the time, something we were barely aware of and simply took for granted. To us human rights was what we defended from the comfort of an armchair or at a cocktail party when some terrible violation had taken place in some remote part of the country or the world. We were simply oblivious to the fact that we belonged to the chosen few whose rights were protected by birth.
As I perused the list of articles I realised that many of the rights we took for granted, were actually violated for many around us though we remained comfortably oblivious to the fact. I sat a long time wondering what I would say in my speech and realised that in hindsight pwhy had somehow been a journey of restoring violated human rights. It all began with Manu. Had he not been subjected to the violation of each and every one of his human right? And even today, 8 years down the line though we may have helped restore some of his rights we have not been able to give him back his right of being a citizen of a country as all our efforts have been in vain. A classic catch 22 situation.
There have been many cases where our efforts has helped restore some usurped or hijacked human right often quite unwittingly and yet there are moments when even our inured minds are jolted beyond words. Recently a visit to little Radha’s home shook us out the complacent attitude we seemed to have adopted. The picture you see is that of her house ( the one on the left of the picture is hers). One her mother has to pay 4oo rs a month for over and above the three meals a day she has to provide to her landlord. The house could best be described as a kennel! Made of bricks and mud with a paltry tin roofing this minute dwelling was home to two adults and four children. It is was where they slept, ate, cooked, played, laughed, cried in a word: lived. Is is where little Radha sheltered her brittle bones. No wonder she broke them with clockwork regularity.
Today it lies locked as the family has gone to the village to perform the last rites of the father. When they come back they would have to resume their pathetic survival in this flimsy space. If all goes well this will not be the case as we hope to be able to give the little family shelter in our women’s centre.
But across our city replete with its sparkling malls and sprawling homes there are many such hovels where people live, people that make our lives a little easier. When I hear the constant references in speeches made by those who rule this city to making Delhi a world class city for the famed forthcoming sports extravaganza, my blood curdles. Can one even consider making the city a better place if there are people living in such conditions. And what is worst is that many such dwellers have voters ID cards! Hence they are not as invisible as one would like to think. It is just that in our country one does not visit the homes of those who work for us. Maybe one should begin to.
No one can be allowed by any self respecting society to live in a space where you cannot even stand. Please look at this picture again
Could you live here?
