by Anuradha Bakshi | Mar 21, 2007 | planet why, utpal
Life is a strange and fascinating journey. It is said that when a child is born his brain has the possibility of learning anything he is taught. After that begins a selective process that mirrors the child’s environment and hence appears the choice of language, likes and dislikes and so on. many of the choices we make are either akin to those of our caretakers, others stem from our rebellious nature and are the exact opposite of what we see.
As the journey continues new choices come by and many course corrections too, but some things remain embedded in your mind even though you do not quite know why.
Many years back when I was in high school one of my teachers gave me a present: it was a copy of the Little Prince of St Exupery. At that time it was just a book that touched me but somehow I had the intuitive feeling that it was to be much more.
Life took on many turns but somehow this book never left me and I found myself going back to it at times when I needed answers to seemingly incomprehensible problems. Exactly 4 years ago when a scalded Utpal landed into my life I caught myself thinking of him as the little Prince who landed from nowhere into a lost aviator’s existence.
For the last four years Utpal and I have made a long journey as he led me to places I would have never gone to were it not for him. With him I visited many planets just like the aviator did, some nice some not so nice. From the hell hole of the life of an alkie woman in an urban slum, to the crisp and refreshing air of a quaint boarding school, from the forbidding and cold precincts of a rehab centre to the laughter and hope filled surroundings of an a idyllic sanctuary, via toy shops with the best deals, and sinful fast food joints.
Like the Little Prince of St Exupery, I too encountered rares species: some funny, some sordid and some filled with hope and came across realities that my half a century on this planet had not prepared me for. I was faced with many challenges, some seemingly insurmountable but his little hand always held mine nudging me not to give up. And as I travelled with new eyes on uncharted courses I knew my little man was the bearer of some deep message that went beyond the realm of his life.
Over the years I had often found myself referring to project why as planet why, and then correcting myself as the raggle taggle elements that make project why could not be named a planet. Some Freudian slip or an intuitive glimpse of what still lay ahead. Any one’s guess. Yet hindsight shows that a tiny seed was being planted in one’s mind. Project why in its actual avatar was too fragile and had to take on a new body. The travels with my prince were just pointers towards the task that lay ahead: creating planet why that would come full circle.
And once again an apparently impossible picture seeded in my mind: that of a happy place where those with no hope could seek not only refuge but find meaning, where no one’s children would study just like others, where skills would be taught, where days and would filled with laughter and happiness and childhoods would be reconquered with renewed assurance watched by my smiling little prince.
So help me God!
by Anuradha Bakshi | Mar 21, 2007 | girl child
Miracles happen to those who believe them says a quote, but some are a little difficult to imagine let alone believe in. And yet on that long hot drive back from the grim rehab centre to my home about a year back, there was a picture that flashed in my mind as I held on to the little boy who had in one dark night lost his childhood: it was a hazy picture of a day when he would be reunited with his mom and sister in a ‘happy place’. And no matter how dim and remote it would seem at times, I never let it go!
The picture you see is not a figment of my imagination nor a piece of trick photography. It is a kodak moment. This moment happened yesterday when finally all the elements of a complex puzzle fell in place, and even the colors were right; Popples celebrated his 5th birthday with his mom and sister and best pal kiran and even maam’ji, in an idyllic place where ducks and flowers are in abundance and surrounded by a motley group of 60 kids who just like him one day lost all hope but regained it here.
The journey was long and the hurdles many but were all met with courage and dignity. An alkie mother had to be cured, a baby had to learn to live in an alien place, and a young girl had to be rescued from lurking predators all this while battling a host of so called well wishers bent upon opposing your every move. yes the odds were against us and the dice was loaded, the social profile was wrong, the foes many but somehow the happy picture remained engraved in my memory.
Yesterday once again the mr p support group set out for this special event. Armed with games and toys for his new pals and overflowing love we landed at karmmarg to celebrate a real mother and child reunion. There was laughter and song, Durga Utpal’s sister delighted us with a bolywood number, and we all sat in the shade amidst nature at his best and shared a lunch that would surpass any three star gourmet meal.
The day was picture perfect and the old maam’ji so moved that even the photographs turned out misty, but do have a look at them
by Anuradha Bakshi | Mar 18, 2007 | utpal
A mother’s arms are made of tenderness and children sleep soundly in them wrote victor Hugo and yesterday after on whole year Utpal must have slept soundly.
It has been a long solitary journey for utpal and his mom, but they are both survivors.
It was also the first time in that the now legendary motley crowd that goes by the name of Utpal’s parents was not there to fetch him. trusted Dharmendra bhaiyya was given the task of picking up utpal and delivering him and the little red bag to the portals of karm marg. Imagine my panic when I received a call telling me that the whole karm marg was away on a field trip and only the ducks, the dogs nd a three staff members were there. My immediate reaction was to ask that Utpal come back to me, but he knew that something special was to happen and once again acted with wisdom beyond his age as he befriended those present and told Dharmendra bhaiyya to leave.
Later a bag was delivered to my home. It contained Utpal’s school clothes, his uniform and winter wear. I just held on to each that little bit longer as I emptied the bag missing his smile and babble.
As I write these words I do not know how the mother and child reunion went. I just foolishly spent the night kicking myself for not having put a sweater his bag.
by Anuradha Bakshi | Mar 18, 2007 | Uncategorized
why ki tazaa khabar is a new blog that saw the light of day on March 17th. The idea was mooted by the following words sent by a long time supporter: I find a major problem which is lack of information… my only problem is that I never get any information about that project. how that project is going on..how are kids in that project…did they do any progress..how is my contribution being helpful to them…how many teachers are there in the project etc etc.
Being one who has the tendency of easily slipping into comfort zones – i.e. taking for granted what goes on smoothly – this was a wake up call. I understand my friend’s concern as once upon a time I did send out regular individual emails!
But as the project grew and so did everyday challenges, individual updates became rarer as I believed – maybe wrongly – that the blogs and updates on the site were adequate information.
Having decided right from the outset that I would not waste my funders money on heavy administrative structures, and having also chosen to employ only community people who were not savvy enough to write in English, I was left with little choice. I could have sent a mail explaining this but I just sank into a comfort zone.
The wake up call that landed in my inbox jolted me into the need of finding a viable solution that would dovetail into the why spirit and give a day-to-day account of what happens at pwhy.
The way out I hit upon was a blog in roman Hindi in the words of those who were directly involved with running pwhy. So why ki tazaa khabar will be rani and shamika’s blog in their own words and will give all a different view of pwhy.
It is the first time shamirani – the name they chose – are setting out on such a venture and if you feel it is something hat needs to be encouraged please do drop a mail to
shambakshou@yahoo.co.in.
by Anuradha Bakshi | Mar 17, 2007 | Uncategorized
I have always been a morning person and a light sleeper. Yet for years I never woke up before 4 or 4.30 am. If I let my memory travel back I realise that often it is was the cling clang of the Delhi Milk Scheme vans that used to wake me up. Sometimes a crow or a bird preceded it by a few minutes.
Lately I have found myself waking up as early as 2 am jolted from my sleep by the sound of a speeding vehicle. We live close to a flyover and in the dead of night every sound does get amplified. True that in yore years too sometimes their were cars whizzing past, maybe on their way to the airport, or Saturday party goers getting back home but it was an occasional sound that did not get passed the deep sleep one was in. It is the everyday sounds that reach that part of your brain like the milk van or the faithful crow.
Irked by this new phenomena that was now translating itself into dark circles under the eyes and an irritable Maam’ji, I decided to try and decipher the source of this new late night occurrence. It did dawn one such night: these were the BPO or call centre staff vehicles crisscrossing our city to meet their unearthly schedules.
A lot has been said about the effects of these new working hours that need to meet different time zones and turn night into day. many young people are paying the price and as is often the case, the once lucrative and upmarket job options is now being shunned by some and is slowly reaching the lower strata of society. Today many of our ex students work in call centres as the job profile is scaled down to meet the ever exceeding demand.
Doc P, our family doctor recounted how on a trip to the US he needed to change a booking and dialled a number answered by a young lad who was desperately trying to communicate in his newly acquired American Hinglish; no matter how many times Doc tried to coax him into speaking in Hindi, the lad held on: needless to say the booking was never changed.
While travelling to pwhy everyday one sees new hoardings for BPO training institutes that guarantee perfect English in 6 weeks or so. I guess they must be lucrative as new ones appear ever so often.
I guess I wil need to invest in a good pair of earplugs!
