by Anuradha Bakshi | Sep 25, 2005 | Uncategorized
woke this morning , sat at my computer, browsed the usual sites..
as i opened this blog, my heart missed a beat as I saw something I had missed till date: on the right hand three little words – home sweet home -.. and a clock ticking backwards
I was overwhelmed as I imagined this child of India, one of its very best, longing for the day she will be home…
Sitting in the land of the plenty, the american dream that so many aspire to, she longs for the sounds and smells that filled her childhood, the warmth of the land that gave her life, the safety of the place she belongs to..
I imagined how long time must seem to her till the morning dawns when she sits on that plane that will bring her to home sweet home.. in 31 days.. 4 hours…. 32 minutes..
There is something about India.. pity some of us do not see it
by Anuradha Bakshi | Sep 23, 2005 | Uncategorized
scene one: somewhere in the US a bunch of young bright young indian students are busy preparing for the draw of two to tango.
Two to tango was the name they gave the raffle they set to garner funds for project why after reading about our work. Sonal, Vel, Sneha after much thought and debate decided on a 2 dollars raffle with a 100 dollars price with a target of 1000 dollars. Vel, the young man in a hurry decided to match everyone who gave 8 dollars or the equivalent of the yearly donation for our one-rupee-a-day programme. Enthusiastic and moving mails dropped in my mailbox informing me of the progress or seeking an immediate answer to some query. My heart filled with pride as I saw the names appearing one after the other bringing a glimpse of lovely Indians kids with a heart that beat for their motherland and its lesser kids… and somehow I felt vindicated
scene two: a phone call from a young university student from Delhi’s top college informs us to come and collect the receipt book we had given her as it was over.. wow 100 donors.. not bad..
later the same day: two crestfallen kids, rani and shamika, hand over the duly completed receipt book and a plastic bag with 50 one rupee coins.
An extreme sadness fills me… how come none of them thought that something was amiss: one rupee is less than the cost of the paper the receipt is printed on.. forget about thinking of what a rupee given this way can do.. even a beggar throws it back at you
Have our kids lost their heart or their capacity to feel for others so imbibed are they in their cynicism.. Does it take leaving one’s homeland to discover that her future is ours too…
Where have we gone wrong..
Note: I have never met vel, sneha or sonal; the other kid is a friend’s daughter!
by Anuradha Bakshi | Sep 23, 2005 | Uncategorized
An incident occured today that set me on a strain of thoughts about matters that one often brushes away with great words…
It began with a call from an acquaintance who runs an upmarket nursery school with her mother a lucrative entreprise where fees rose from 300 rupees a couple of years ago to a mind boggling 1200 at present..
She wanted some help so I decided to drop by.. we chatted for a while.. and she told me how the numbers of students had dwindled with all big public schools having opened their own nursery section.. after the customary cup of sweet and weak coffee she asked me if I would do her a favour.. could I take the grandson of Saroj, the almost instututional ayah of the school, in project why… he is two and a half..
I said I would and got up to take leave… a worried Saroj walked with me to my waiting three wheeler and told me that the child had been in a creche till date, but had walked out of it and got lost.. she wanted a safe place… I told her to bring the child..
As I drove away , it suddenly struck me that the child could have easily been taken into the little school was it not for what I call the invisible but impregnable walls (IIV) that surround us, though many are blissfully unaware of their existence..
How could little Monu or Vijay or Abdul rub shoulders with the upmarket bacchas.. it would have cost the mother-daughter duo to have Saroj bring the little one.. knowing them, he would have sat quietly and imbibed everything around him.. but that would have meant crossing the IIV a line that could beat any LOCs…
Never mind if Monu or Abdul or Priya were born in free India and enjoy the same rights that their peers from across the border… never mind if their mummies would work extra hours making ‘pieces’ for the local exporter and pay the 1200 rs. Some do pay upto 600 to the english medium school aptly called Mother Kesari or Budding Flowers where no one speaks english..
And if a Monu or Abdul or Priya’s mummy did gather the courage of crossing the II wall clutching her purse with the fee amount, dressed in her party best: she would be shunted away by a clone of our erstwhile Saroj..
It is all a matter of invisible and impregnable walls…
I know for one that Saroj will henceforth not do it…
How do we get the mother daughter duo to change…
You guess right.. i have something in my mind…
by Anuradha Bakshi | Sep 22, 2005 | Uncategorized
Class is over.. the climb down the rickety ladder will take them back to their day-to-day existence .. but today has been different.. the children have stars in their eyes..
no metaphor here..
Today’s class was about the earth, and the plantets, and the milky away all brought alive by Sophie who ascended these very steps globe and laptop in hand to open a new world to these little kids.
Time stood still in this tiny, airless room where it is almost difficult to breathe, as twenty pairs of eager eyes crowded around the screen. The excitement was palpable.. the mood serious.. just as it should be in any place of learning…
So what if it is a tiny room up a rickety ladder.. a little effort makes it a ladder of hope
by Anuradha Bakshi | Sep 16, 2005 | Uncategorized
a mail dropped by in mailbox this morning. it was from someone i did not know..
It began woth the words: “I’ve heard a lot about you from A. I’m skeptical, as always, about all good things. And yet, I wish I could meet you and be involved in what you are doing.”
Many questions came to my mind, but what disturbed me the most was the way in which mistrust had permeated our lives with consequences that one is even aware of…
Nutan had a debilitating cardiac problem. She needed medical care and in all likelihood complex surgery. The family was told to arrange for 110 000 rupees before investigation would start. Now Nutan hails from Bihar and is one of the poorest of the poor, but there was no other way: It seemed that earlier many patients had left without paying bills so no one was to be trusted! Today we were told that Nutan may not need surgery and will soon be reunited with her children… Just imagine what would have happened had the money not been found…
One of the main obstacles that lie in our efforts to garner funds for project why, is the mistrust people feel towards charitable organisations, and their unwillingness bordering refusal, to give us the now almost elusive one rupee and thus the chance to prove our worthiness. Now imagine if we had not shown trust when Nutan, or Arun or Raju or all those who came to us and turned them away..
It seems that a world in a hurry to accede to material things draws comfort from applying labels to everything, not finding time to view each case seperately, and making up its own mind.
I would like to share a simple secret with them, the one given to a mythical little prince by a simple fox: “And now here is my secret, a very simple secret: It is only with the heart that one can see rightly; what is essential is invisible to the eye.” The Little Prince, Antoine de St Exupery.
Maybe we should learn all over again to look with our hearts..
