by Anuradha Bakshi | Jul 30, 2006 | Uncategorized
Many moons ago, when we were in our early teens, one of our favourite pastime was to dial random numbers on the phone in the hope of catching some young man and enganging in silly conversations.. This was often done with your best friend in tow and one quickly slammed the reciever down the moment things went a bit out of hand..
Those were the days when phones were still archaic and no one could trace the number.. and often one did not even rememeber it to dial again…
That was in the early sixties
Today we have the situation revisited version 2006.. but much ihas changed. It is not young giggly adolescents who are engaging in this inane game, but women with grown children. This is the direct result of the proliferation of cheap cellphones that have invaded the slums of India, where women married often without their consent at a very young age and propelled into motherhood, are suddenly finding a way to express a seemingly harmless repressed sexuality by dialling numbers and engaging in flirtatious conversations.. but these get out of hand as numbers are recorded and then they come sheepishly seeking help as their being found out would spell disatesr in their conservative homes..
One comes to their rescue but one is aware of the time bomb that is ticking away as this is happening in a society which has no pity or mercy for women.
by Anuradha Bakshi | Jul 30, 2006 | utpal
this touching sepia picture of Utpal sleeping should be enough to vindicate any wrong that may have happened in the six years of pwhy’s existence on the field..
some of you may have seen the revolting sting operation of a TV channel that caught doctors mutilating healthy bodies to fulfil the greed of beggar mafias..
This little body that sleeps soundly did not even need the help of a Dr Jekyll.. at the age of one he had had his baptism by fire and was mutilated enough to tug at the most cynical heart strings.
But that did not happen… instead he is today in a boarding school where he will break all barriers and reach for what would have seemed preposterous.. I do not take any credit for this but simply say that some god somewhere decided to right some of the wrongs he may have done, and placed us at the right spot at the needed hour.
In the six years we have been around we have been able to make a difference in some lives, a drop in the ocean that is India, but nevertheless an important part of the family to which they belong.
It is true that we have had our share of enemies, unfair blows and outrageous slander, all hitting below the belt in a women dominated organisation. Over the years one has tried to ward them off as best we could in the hope that our work would speak for itself and exonerate us..
Wishful thinking as three days back out came the read paint again and this time took care of colouring each one of us scarlet! We have always believed that no one born bad, and hence everyone can be redeemed.. but today I find myself faced with the dilemma of having to take action against one of my team members as her irresponsible behaviour as put a blot on my reputation.. and though I know that the person in question is not without blemish, I also know that she is a victim of circumstances and dependant of the salary she draws..
Six years down the line, and a fair track record to vouch for us, we are still battling the age old charges reserved for the second sex. I must confess that there are times when I feel like putting a lock on the door and calling it quits but then the pictures of all the kids that may not even have been around if we had not been there flash through my mind and put an abrupt end to such thoughts..
It will take all my sagacity and experience to find the just solution one again, but I just hope that the end to this infernal spiral is in the offing as I find myself at the end of my tether.
by Anuradha Bakshi | Jul 29, 2006 | Uncategorized
we read about farmers committing suicide because of their inability to pay back their loans.. we read about children taking their tender lives because they cannot meet the required standards some insensitive system created..
i have been watching in silent horror another monster lurking and waiting patiently for its pound of flesh and to borrow the title of a jefferson airplane song, let us call it: plastic fantastic lover.
or simply the credit card…
The multinationals were quick to see the immense potential of the other India and thus we have pouches of every imaginable product: from shampoos, to detergent, to shaving foam, to tomato ketchup.. never mind the load on the environment..
Then came the credit card which till date is often used for purchases such as motorbikes, or other r items.. but the day is not far when the simple folk realise that they can purchase everything with the swipe of a card: food, clothes, and other consummables. Whreas bank can recover bikes and TVs, disaster will hit when people find themselves in a debt stranglehold… and the ensuing infernal spiral..
The local moneylender does charge the outrageous 10% a month, but often after 2 to 3 years, once he has recovered his principal and a fair amount of interest, he forgets about you and goes looking for other fish.. but the plastic fantastic lover is heartless, merciless and will chase you till the end..
One is helpless.. maybe that is the price to pay in the new economic scenario we have embraced, but what a price
by Anuradha Bakshi | Jul 27, 2006 | Uncategorized
eight years ago i decided to call our field work project why.. the reason was the innumerable questions that needed answers.. and slowly and painstakingly we set out to answer them and we did.. children remained in school and passed their examinations, jobs were given to people who never thought they would get jobs, lives were saved, even those everyone had given up on.. and all along the way there was criticism often stemming out of jealousy of some disgruntled person or the other . So we heard veiled remarks about funds being pocketed, or hidden agendas of sorts..
But as if that was not enough out came the secret weapon reserved for the fairer sex. Let me just say that for the last six years I have heard that so many times that I have started asking myself whether we as women have a right to do anything without being coloured red!
Being over half a century old, I can take the slander but my heart goes out to all the young women who work with me and who have taken a step towards changing their lives for the better.. I know that it will just take one word for their still archaic families to stop them from working and thus end their dreams…
Do I stop all work and end the dreams of 500 kids and all the ones still to come.. just because of this stigma.. If I go to the authorities, then again we will have the jaded: if there is smoke there must be fire syndrome..
We could carry on as we have , but yesterday the accusation was made in a bank in front of a large audience.. and in a few hours I will have to go and face the little puzzled faces of my colleagues whose only fault is to have been born a woman in India..
Am I not entitled to be outraged…
by Anuradha Bakshi | Jul 26, 2006 | Uncategorized
keeping in view the enormous problems with blogspot, blockouts and maybe to for get new energies and light the projectwhy blog has now moved to a new address, our very own..
our address is
https://projectwhy.org/blog/
we wil publishing continue on both sites for a while
by Anuradha Bakshi | Jul 23, 2006 | Uncategorized
For some time no I have been getting messages, some veiled, some quite direct, some even harsh about what would happen to pwhy where I to die.. let me set everyone ones mind at rest by saying that it is something i myself have been thinking of..
It is true that I have carried pwhy on my shoulders from that time the idea took seed in my mind. many reasons guided my decision and I will clarify some of them in later posts.
pwhy was is my child, one that I conceived, carried and gave birth to, and like any child it gave him moments of pure joy and deep despair. Today it has grown and I can feel the rebellion in the eyes and ways of many who are rearing to do it they way.. As every parent suffering from acute bouts of over protectiveness I have tried to hold on, but now time has come to let the nestling fly, though I can foresee many falls..
pwhy has a sound team capable of handling all administrative day-to-day activities and learning projects and even muster new teams and set up new field projects. they have enough acumen based on the maxim of rani – majboori ka naam mahatma gandhi – to find spaces no one would think of.
The enormous problem is of course the one of taking over the funding saga as till date it was entirely based on my ability to communicate on the net, something they have not yet learnt. So they now have to evolve their own ways of finding revenue sources and they have been brainstorming about it: they are excellent party and wedding planners, and the team has a rich pool of skills they can ‘sell’. I am not venturing into this operation as in the past all my ideas failed, because they were executed but not internalised.
Like a good parent, the kind I advise others to be and find difficult to go along with, I watch from the wings, turning my tongue seven times in my mouth before venturing a word, or I just make myself scarce.. Like every fledgling they will have to fall before they learn to fly.. but that is the only way..
On the flip side, we now do have a building so we are no more on the road and I will make sufficient provisions in my personal will to ensure that it is maintained and if nothing else, is run as shelter for the likes of manu and many others… that would be the worst case scenario..
But my impassioned appeal to all those who are wondering ‘what next’, is that pwhy belongs to everyone who has helped it till now and even if my mails and blogs are not there, the incredible team that made it all possible is there and all of you can take on the torch from my now tired hands….
by Anuradha Bakshi | Jul 18, 2006 | Uncategorized
had little sandhya survived we would have been heroes. However with hindsight and even after mulling hours into the night death is the kindest gift my friend the God of lesser children could have done for this unloved child.
I do not know if in this sometimes absurd and incomprehensible land of hours rituals are performed for a child, or whether a child is mourned at all. True that a certain amount of visible wailing and chest beating was performed but now it seems it was more as a prelude to the drama that was to unfold..
I normally do not sit in judgement for anyone, that is not the role I was given, at best I watch from the wings. In Sandhya’s case it was clear that her hole in her hear, her cyanotic hue reminiscent of that of the lord of the Gopis, her lost eyes were all a means of exploitation, a father that was simple minded, a surrogate father that was comparable to the shrewd advisors of epics of yore-years.. a strange cast..
and what role did we have to play? were we to be the ones who would rescue lady S.. maybe .. what we did not contend for is the aftermath.. the phone calls trying to feed on the memory of the poor child, extract the last ounce.. and the absurdity of it all.. hold us responsible..
once again we can see our detractors at play, those who have never wanted us to be as we can help change things and hence disturb their carefully planned lootshop.
the story goes like this.. they went to AIIMS, could not muster 61K. we helped them with the money and paid it, the child was too far gone, she died after 3 attempts by the best doctors in India, and we are responsible..
strange India…
by Anuradha Bakshi | Jul 15, 2006 | Uncategorized
I do not why I am reminded of Brecht’s Mother Courage as I sit today my head filled with unanswered questions the day after the loss of a human life no one really mourned. Why does Brecht’s play written in nazi germany and set in the seventeenth century, ring so true today. I read it many years ago when I still belived that life was beautiful and hope existed and I could not quite feel one with Brecht’s cynical talk about the inconvenience of dignity, the efficacy of taking (as opposed to giving or, what’s more foolish, waiting for someone to give), and the worth and/or worthlessness of human life, and the faith you might still have in human nature is challenged at every turn.
Why is it then that six years down the pwhy line it all makes so much sense.. I am too headed the Mother Courage way, albeit for different reasons, and going to be left pulling an empty cart off an empty stage after having tried and lost all..
You may wonder why I feel this way.. and I guess all of you deserve answers before it is too late. Those who stood by me without faltering because you were too few, those who waited too long as they thought there were others, those who waited for me to prove my worthiness, those who could not shed their cynicism, and those who thrive on writing epitaphs and statistics.
Any process involving change is a long one set with many obstacles and though these are not unsurmountable, they often take time.. that is something many did not understand.. to succeed in getting people to shed old ways many roads have to be tried and only a few may work out, that too many could not accept… age old traditions are so deep seated that they have to be carried like dead wood no matter how galling, that too was not comprehended and the list is endless…
That the change has to come about in a world that tends to look more and more like the one out Brecht is known to portray seems absurd but is true: personal egos clash and children die unattended at the doorsteps of hospitals, children are duped away from the right path by promises of quick returns and those trying to make a difference are sneered upon and cast aside.
You carry on for a while because some still believe, because some still trust, because you see hope in the eyes of a child, because you see pride in the eyes of those you love.. and then those very people become more demanding, intransigent at times, unaware of the weight you carry and then the cruel blow as oblivious that you are almost there, they chose to abandon you… just like that.. saying words that do the one thing that is irreversible: kill your spirit..
It takes everything you have, what you have learnt from your experience, from your elders and peers, from your achievemements and failures, from every smile you gave and every tear you shed, to muster the courage to carry on pulling the cart till the end of the show..
by Anuradha Bakshi | Jul 14, 2006 | girl child
sandhya2000 – 2006 She tiptoed on to our planet quietly almost as if she wanted no one to notice her lest we let her walk into our hearts. She would slink softly behind her loud mother hiding her face lest you lost yourself in her huge melting eyes.. She would sit in a corner patiently waiting for us to finish whatever we were doing.. Sandhya knew she was a temporary guest.
Sandhya was what they call a blue or cyanotic baby, where the heart is malformed and the blood deprived of oxygen. Since 1944 a simple surgery called a BT Shunt can repair the damage. For sandhya’s family the cost was exorbitant, but friends pitched in and two days back she was operated upon. However she did not make it, and tiptoed back to her world this morning leaving us all bewildered and lost.
Sandhya is gone but leaves many questions that needs to be answered. I am not being cynical if I say that maybe God showed extreme kindness in taking little Sandhya away had also slight mental retardation making her future very bleak. In a country where a girl child is already a burden, one like Sandhya becomes a millstone. Moreover, Sandhya seemed to be unloved, even by her mother as was visible from the moment I set my eyes on them. Never did I see a maternal gesture, a caress, a tender word, something that wold bring hope and cheer to the forlorn child.. Sandhya was a lost case from day one..
Yet we tried, our little team who accompanied her every time she needed to go the hospital getting her a fruit juice or a biscuit and feeling rewarded by her tiny smile, and the doctors who never gave up till she decided to at 12 noon on July 14th.
So go little Sandhya, evening star, go and shine on a world where children like you are loved and cherished.. we did not deserve you
by Anuradha Bakshi | Jul 14, 2006 | Uncategorized
remember babli, the spirited yourg lady whose heart was fixed and who was to rejoin school this term well, we forgot that oh darling yeh hai India!
I almost fell off my chair when i asked on July 10th was to me should have been a redundant question: is babli in school?
Well not quite was the answer as the mother said the could not afford to take a day off as she would lose her wage and her budget would go haywire, the father or what goes by the name said he could not leave the bottle/deck-of-cards duo and poor Ramu, was not being taken seriously by the school seriously, and the school said unless a family member came…
At that moment I understood Zizous’ infamous head butt because I was ready to deal out hundreds starting with one to my own staff but the half of century on planet earth stood by me, and taking a deep breath I realised that the first thing was to get lady b in school before the anti diluvian system would tell me that i was one nano second too late, never mind the child was a heart surgery survivor!
So I simply asked how much was the daily earning of the mother, making a mental note for a special butt for the employer, and asked my teacher in a sweet voice to inform the mother to take the next day off and go to school to do the needful!
I had not given babli a new heart to see her end her life on the streets or cleaning ustentils in a home till she was married at a tender age to an old man repeating the destiny of her mother…
Much had to be done, much remained to be explained, and above all priorities. What had happened here is that babli’s mom did not understand priorities, and was so blinded by her day-to-day needs that she could not see her daughter’s future. The same applied to the staff whose ire could not see that first one had to get lady b in school as a simple day’s wage was nothing compared to all that we had invested in the child!
So I guess the first head butt comes to lady B! the big one… me
by Anuradha Bakshi | Jul 9, 2006 | Uncategorized
in spite of all technological advances that enable us to obliterate the defines of space and time, connect to people across the globe with the click of a mouse, we in delhi have had to make rather pre-historic adjustements.. one that reminded me of the days when my life graviated around the sleep pattern of my daughter.. all house chores or any chore for that matter was done when either p or s slept.. that was in 1975 and 1981..
Today in 2006, my girls are big ladies and I am an old woman but I see myself having to relive those days and ways.. this time not to the sweet pattern of a baby’s slumber but to the erratic and puzzling plan followed by those who provide our city electricity.. so here you are at the computer and off it goes and you rapidly swithch everything off and wait till it gets back. Now in the mean time the computer of your mind may have forgotten where you were so you have to play all kind of association games till you find survival tactics..
I now have a pencil that hangs aroung my neck and I jot things down whenever I remember them, something I had long forgotten. I have also crossed from my menu all that requires baking. Many of our meetings are held in the terrace. Children have more outdoor activities than before. And we talk a lot about not taking things for granted…
And above all, maybe it is time we ask ourselves how responsible we are for all this mess, and look for ways to find long term solutions..
by Anuradha Bakshi | Jul 6, 2006 | Uncategorized
If little deepak lives today it is because a bunch of doctors fought for him as if he was one of their own when his heart stopped beating, and brought him back to life. They did not have to do it: he was not their son, they were not going to earn a huge amount of money from his family or get an international award. They were just doing what they were taught by their teacher and mentor, emulating what they had seen.
Today their mentor has been humiliated and cast aside because of some petty and spiteful reason and dismissed from office. Bewildered, confused, taken a back, his team have done the only thing they could: stopped work. They above all know that many innocent will suffer, and among them little Deepak, the very child for whom hey fought, but then what else can they do to make themselves heard.
In some lands they could have worn black bands, in others registered their protest in more dignified ways but here they know no one will hear. Strange that this land that prides itself of being civilised is the one that somehow has turned deaf to all that is good and has learnt to just look at the bad. No one is perfect and we have perfected the art of looking at the bad and obliterating the good, no matter what the proportions.
The mentor in question is the one who made it possible for little Deepak whose father is a daily wage labourer to have an open heart surgery, something that only the rich could have a few years ago. pwhy is a silent witness to this fact as Deepak is our 7th poor heart on the block. But that has been forgotten. The mentor in question is the one that chose to be operated by one of his student when he needed an open heart surgery and who on the eight day after his surgery, when the likes of you and me are still tottering around, walked to the OT and operated upon a patient, not a VVIP as we know of, but his kind of VVIP a nameless Indian.
yesterday night, little deepak who is the perfect ambassador of thenameless Indian may have spent a difficult night, but he bore it bravely so that all that is good is not sacrificed to the altar of greed and apathy.
by Anuradha Bakshi | Jul 2, 2006 | utpal
For the past few days strange things have been happening in an otherwise orderly environement.. an intricate and baffling interplay of movements, numbers, words and occurences. At moments the entire scenario becomes extremely puzzling..
What just moments ago was a happy and enabling environment seems to have been shattered by some invisible malefic genie that has hit every where it could. BPs have fallen abysmally low and temperatures risen to alarming heights. Even the men in white are baffled.
The main protagonist of the show are a old lady and a little man, and the genie is the fateful day when one leaves for school. Nothing to write home about would one say, well not quite as both are acting out of style to protect the other and whereas this is totally normal for one who has lived over half a century, its is phenomenal when it is done by a little fellow of 4.
But Utpal Mondal is not your normal little 4 year old; he is one who has packed more suffering in his tiny life than many in their entire existence. So Utpal, normally the exemplary kid, one who never bothers any one, has for the past few days done everything possible to test everyone’s patience, even worked up an illogical fever that sends us all scurrying to the doc, finding little ways to makes us wish that he leaves…
But dear Utpal, we know you too well and see through your little game and it makes you dearer to our hearts.. It is just that we know that you have to go and grow and live the destiny that has been chalked out for you, the one for which you even had to submit to the excruciating ordeal by fire..
So litlle Utpal when that day dawns, it will be a beautiful one for all of us, one we will always remember as a very special one.
by Anuradha Bakshi | Jun 27, 2006 | Uncategorized
After why, what – that is the question.. almost a Shakespearian one..
Six years down the line we have successfully proved that with a little effort and local resources, drop out rates can be contained and children can pass their Boards. True that we have some students who cross the 70 and even 80 % line, but they are the exception; most of them hover around 50 and some even dip lower..
This is the time of the year when the famed or ill famed cut off marks are out. One stares with despair at the 92 and 93 % marks you need to enter a good college and wonders where does that leave children of lesser gods..
Evening colleges, correspondence courses, open universities… Most again leaving the students idle for part of the day, bearing the brunt of parental pressure urging them to work..
This has been disturbing us as school education in India is totally devoid of technical options. In many countries, weaker students are urged to take a technical stream that ensures that they leave school with a certificate and a skill. In France there is even a stream called bac en alternance where the student spends three days in school and the other three learning a trade: working as a sales person in a shop, training in a kitchen, working with a carpenter and so on…
After much thought we have decided to start evening and week end classes in plumbing, electrical works, air conditioning repair, computer repair, carpentry, tailoring, accupressure and naturopathy, beautician etc using local talent. If we are able to do so we would even think of launching – call pwhy – whereby we would offer these skills in a well organised way to friends and others.
Another option that we plan to start, and one where our special section can also play an important role is providing packed lunches and diners to offices and young people living alone. This would also provide work to handicapped people with tricycles as they would be able to deliver them and thereby earn a dignified living.
These are but a few options we have thought of, the mainstay being that children would acquire a skill that would come handy in their lives. We are looking for other ideas, but given our past errors, when we jumped and made things and did not find outlets, we only want to launch a new idea if there is a market to support it.
One must realise that a simple education is not enough; we are duty bound to give our children the required skills to be able to survive..
The myth of government jobs has to be destroyed, and children taught that nothing comes easy.. But if you have the will then the way is there as young Sanjiv has proved. He chose to learn yoga, accupressure, shiatsu and other massage and many alternative forms of healing while doing his studies (week end classes at Gandhi smriti) even if his peer group made fun of him and today earns a whopping 7 to 8 K and has a motorcycle. He is learning English with us and we hope to get him clients from the expat community.. Sanjiv did much more than survive just because he chose to walk an unknown path that a kind soul showed him with his head held high..
Can we convince others to do the same becomes the next existential question.
by Anuradha Bakshi | Jun 22, 2006 | reservations
I cannot but remember the days in May 2000, when I use to sit at a door step in Giri Nagar, and hordes of parents use do come with a single plea:
“English bolana sikhado” – teach them to speak in English-
How intuitive and right these poor illiterate parents were: last week spirited Garima, a class X topper was denied a place in a ‘prestigious’ English medium school because she could not speak English properly.. what properly means should be defined by the principal of that school..
Wonder if next time my French friends say: ze book is on ze taboul‘ I should cross them off my social list and what about the London friends who speak with a cockney lilt!
Almost 60 years after independence, one that was fought against the British, we still judge people by their ability to parrot the queens’ tongue!
Garima was lucky – NDTV picked up her story.. there are so many Garimas living under the stranglehold of their inability to converse in English, their self esteem eroded.. there are many whose mother tongue’s inflection is so strong that it permeates every language they speak and who can never quite get rid of it… the Japanese and Italians and our own Biharis or Bengalis are good examples of this
There is something terribly wrong in our land, now added to your social or religious background is added the ability to master the language of the erstwhile coloniser.
So now perhaps some smart alec will come up with a reservation for those who cannot speak English well..
Why can’t we accept the child who speaks English with her or his Indian accent, just as we accept the inversion of l’s and r’s by our friends from the Far East..
One of the most difficult tasks at pwhy has been to get our kids to shed their self-consciousness and put in active use the huge knowledge of English that lies hidden in their brain.. one understands why when one reads Garima’s story..
But there is another aspect to her story, one that I highlighted earlier with reference to the Mumbai old couple: the role of the media as an agent of change… a single story on the silver screen gets people to shed their cynicism and inaction and do something, be it redressing a tort or reaching out to another..
So maybe that is the road to tread..
PS: Kudos to Garima who has decided to remain in her old school, the one that helped her top and kudos to her parents who have stood by her.
by Anuradha Bakshi | Jun 16, 2006 | Uncategorized
When the aviator missed his Little Prince in St Exupery’s beautiful fable, he looked at the sky searching for a star… when he missed his laugh he thought of bells ringing..
Two weeks from now little mr p will walk out of my door to a new life in his new school.. and a new future just what I wanted, just what we all worked for so hard..
I must confess that though I have been making all the right noises and saying the right words, the ones everyone expects, written all the appropriate thank you’s and bless you’s, deep in my heart all is not quite well.. as is obvious by the fact that I have been hiding the list the school has given and that needs to be purchased as if delaying buying the little socks and hankies would make the two weeks seem longer, or by my erractic work pattern, or my tiptoeing in the dark room and watching popples sleep..
I must also confess that each time he says Maa’mji and comes struting into my office I have been far more indulgent in spite of the many raised eyebrows around me using my position as elder shamlessly.. silly behavior I know but when was love logical.
I have also spent long moments going back on the past three years since I first lay my eyes on this little chap and trying to understand the bond. It is so easy to find reasons to explain why you love someone and when it is little mr p, then they are there on a platter, but I think there are some hidden reasons that only you know and those are the real ones.
So you understand how a tiny fellow has shown you the way many a times when your steps faltered, has helped you find in yourself things you did not know you possessed, even if it is simply stopping your early wails each time you burnt your little finger..
Yes he has taught me many things: courage, uncondional love, stoical acceptance of humiliation and hurt, remarkable ability to adapt to new situations.. albeit adults ones.. but also brought into my life his warm hugs, his special maa’mji, his beautiful smile and above all his demanding love which beckons me and makes me the one he knows is there even if no one is.
But love means to know when your presence becomes hampering, when you need to tiptoe away as life waits with open arms and many dreams to follow.. So two weeks from now I will let mr p walk out of the door into the light..
by Anuradha Bakshi | Jun 14, 2006 | Uncategorized
kids are quite amazing.. mr p wore his Hanuman mask and had us in peals of laughter as we kept telling him to smile and he kept obliging under his mask not realising that no one could see his face..
we finally did tell him to remove it and the dazzling smile was revealed!
Keep smiling little Hanuman
by Anuradha Bakshi | Jun 14, 2006 | Uncategorized
This morning as I entered my office the light on my cellphone was flashing indicating a message in my inbox. I rarely use this facility and normally what awaits me on the screen is some promo or the other. I opened the message – not a promo this time – and read the beautiful words sent by a lovely young woman I recently met. It said:
If God answers your prayers he is increasing your faith
If He delays, he is testing your patience
If He does not, he knows you can handle…
I stared at the words for a long time letting their meaning sink in, and realising how true they were. The words written were in no way a message of resignation but one of hope. How many times have I not sat waiting for what many call miracles, till I realised that it was for me to make it happen, and then somheow things happened: the right words appeared on the screen as my fingers tapped the keys, the long forgotten name sprung back in one’s memory or the right option was sought..
One is but human and somehow one forgets that the greatest gift anyone can give you is the realisation that nothing comes by begging, but by believing in yourself and in your ability to get it, no matter how many hurdles you need to overcome.
