by Anuradha Bakshi | Feb 1, 2007 | common school
One is often so engrossed in the now, that one forgets to delve into the realm of the after. Yet unless we take time to do that, we may remain frozen in time.
Spiritual masters often ask us to visualise the future if we want to see it realised. I guess there is some truth in that. We have many nows in our lives, each pertinent to a particular field of our activities and each requiring its own visualisation.
Maybe it is time for me to assess the now of pwhy and make some projections. Let us consider this instant as ground zero and dream a little.
A bunch of children of all ages and sizes were brought together under the pwhy aegis a few years ago with the sole purpose of trying to better their tomorrows. The first task was to keep them in school as education was often hailed as a panacea to all ills. We set about this task and completed it with success. Somewhere down the line we realised that what was offered as education was in no way going to make a difference to these young lives as much more was needed. So we set about qualifying and quantifying the missing elements or defining the true ground zero.
One common factor linked all our children: they belonged to an urban slum. That sole factor dictated the quality of their lives: poor habitat, bad education, abysmal medical health facilities, few employment options one one side and great expectations fuelled by urban dreams on the other. To lace it all a feudal attitude vis-a-vis those in power.
The fact is that most of what is mentioned – habitat, school etc – has fallen into this state of despair because existing government programmes have been hijacked down the road. And as the end beneficiary are often kept in the dark, no one is ever able to redress the torts.
Hence if we look ahead from ground zero and allow ourselves to dream a little what we see is a day when people will be in a position to ask for all that is rightfully theirs and has been lost in transition. We tend to forget or maybe do not give enough importance to the tools that we have been given. I refer to the Right to Information Act that enables every Indian to seek redressal for a few rupees.
If that day is to dawn, then one needs to empower people and teach them responsibility. And the only way to do that is to catch them young. It has now become imperative for us at pwhy to move beyond the books and curriculum and teach our children the art of being a citizen.
by Anuradha Bakshi | Jan 30, 2007 | ghaziabad girls, noida children, two indias
A short news item aired yesterday showed relatives of children killed in Noida by serial killers blocking a road and protesting the slow pace of the probe.
My mind travels back to the week where the whole nation watched the nightmare of NOIDA unfold. Rewind to a few weeks earlier and one’s thoughts go to the plight of the 50 odd Ghaziabad orphanage girls waiting to be released while their abuser smirked on.
Somehow the girls seem lost in some incomprehensible labyrinth of justice and bureaucracy that mere mortals cannot reach. The mind races back to the time when one could visit them in spite of the harrowing presence of their abuser, and bring them a few moments of solace.
Now one just sits helpless and lost.
Recently we experienced the deafening furore of Ms Shetty and her tryst with the celebrity big brother. The racist remarks ultimately paid. Few months ago Jessica and Priyardhasini got the much awaited justice when voices took on their case. But those voices belonged to well educated, English speaking upmarket people and hence they were heard. They belonged to the right India, as did those that ensured that little Anant return home safely!
The Ghaziabad girls and the Nithari children do not have that luck. The voices heard yesterday were not the right ones.
Let us not forget that the true perpetrator of the crimes against the Nithari children was not the predator but the police and the administration. Today again it seems that the same game is being played.
In a few days or weeks, the tired parents will have to go back to the task of surviving and even these feeble voices will die out.
I had feared this would happen and hoped that we would see the writing on the wall and do something. My fear has been confirmed, my hope shattered.
Many heralded 2006 as the year of the rise of civil society, maybe one should add a rider: it only words in one India, the other remains unchanged.
by Anuradha Bakshi | Jan 29, 2007 | Uncategorized
Nanhe is back. And the smile too!
Everyone was stunned as he entered the class in Sitaram’s arms. Moments later a palpable excitement prevailed in the classroom as his little buddies set about to greet their long lost pal.
All else was forgotten: Anurag stopped jumping, Umesh stopped whining and even Shalu stopped complaining. Little Sapna came alive, Himashu smiled and Manu forgot his swollen gums and quietly handed over his puzzle.
No words were needed for his pals to understand that Nanhe had come back from very far and that this was a very special moment. Had not Nanhe defeated all logic and all medical prognostics, was he not the one who had chronic renal failure and severe anemia.
We watched him in awe as we could sense the strength of his spirit soaring high and my thoughts went to Daisaku Ikeda’s words: Human life is indeed wondrous. You may be ill physically, but as long as your mental state is strong, it most certainly will exert a positive influence on your body. there may be no better remedy than hope.
by Anuradha Bakshi | Jan 29, 2007 | utpal
When Utpal walked into the gate of his brand new school he was making a tryst with destiny.
He would one day walk out of that gate and take on the world.
I have often let my imagination run wild and imagine what he would become: a conventional doctor or a hot shot choreographer.. any one’s guess I suppose.
yesterday we spent the day with him in his school and as we lazed around in the balmy winter day, he took my camera and started shooting pictures. He went done on a knee, took time and shot a series of pictures. He shot his buddies, his pals in the kitchen, some of us and even took some shots of flowers and trees. You can see them here.
Quite frankly they are not bad.. and some could even make it to a competition.
I watched this little chap and once again marveled at the incredible journey this little chap has made in the last 4 years: from a searing frying pan to a boarding school. At moments like these you can only say Chapeau Bas – hats off – to mr godJi and his incredible talent!
by Anuradha Bakshi | Jan 28, 2007 | Uncategorized
Last week nanhe was discharged from hospital. The discharge slip read: hemoglogin:3.2, BP not detecteable, chronic renal failure. A dismal prognostic to say the least.
When consulted all medico friends confirmed our fears.
Nanhe is special and his smile has made us weather many a storm. Not knowing what to do as no conventional options were possible, I shared my angst with many friends. Many messages of love and support poured in, and many sent healing in various forms.
The days went by and defying all norms, Nanhe held on and two days back he delighted us with a huge smile. For that one moment time stopped. That smile was nothing short of a miracle.
I recalled Deepak Chopra’s words: Miracles happen every day. Not just in remote country villages or at holy sites halfway across the globe, but here, in our own lives, and wondered as to what message that smile held.
Time has stopped for that moment indeed, but reality hit us soon after. Nothing had changed actually: nanhe was still that very special child who could never stand on his own, his mother was still that poor widow with three more challenged children and his tomorrows look as bleak as ever.
Yet his holding on despite all odds could not be without purpose.
I remember nanhe’s last day in class, when he played mentor to young Himanshu. I also recall the innumerable times when his smile has wiped away many a doubt and lifted my sagging courage. I recollect the number of people around the globe who have warmed up to this special child and who have prayed for him over and over again.
How can one forget the often illogical yet passionate strength of a mother’s love. Nanhe’s mom has been a perfect example of that, not giving up one bit but doggedly carrying on, carting her child to the hospital, pleading with doctors and getting for her child more than one could hope for.
Nanhe lives and even smiles. I guess somewhere we are blessed to be able to still have this child with us.
These are moments where logic and reason fail, and only wonder remains.
