When will they get their act together

When will they get their act together

It is nursery admission time again. Time for schools to raking in the moolah! The sale of roms is expected to bring in 1200 crores rupees. Now we all know the situation on the ground: not enough schools and too many applicants. This has been the same story year after year. Parents have to apply to umpteen schools each charging a whopping amount for a mere form. How can I forget the little boy rejected by 18 schools for no fault of his. That was three years ago!

I was appalled and bemused by the answer given by our eminent CEO when quizzed on the issue:  These days one is seeing news items highlighting how parents are worried over children not getting admissions in schools. This is happening because our government has been building awareness that children from all sections of society must go to school. Hence, now all parents want their children to go to school said she! Now Dear Lady this has been going on for the last three years at least if not more.

This year the problem was closer home. The coordinator of our women centre is seeking admission for his 3+ year old. He has already collected and filled many forms, some at the cost of 700 Rs and more and is running from pillar to post. You see he lives in an area where there are no good schools in a 3km radius, his child is male, he is a first child and hence has no siblings, his parents are not alumni of any school so he runs the race with a huge handicap. That is not all. Some schools have introduced new criteria. It has been named RAA or Representative Affirmative Action. Wonder what that is? Well private schools have decided to reserve 15% seats to children of Doctors, Engineers and Lawyers. India really seems to be fine tuning the quota syndrome. And the logic mooted is strange and perplexing and stated as follows: The purpose of introducing this criterion is to provide a common platform of education to children belonging to families working in different fields. This is an effort towards building a glorious nation. I am at a loss of words.Some schools are also offering extra points for twins, and of course there are extra points for the children of single parents. Our little candidate has none of these advantages. The situation is Dantesque.

Whether he will make it to a good school is a million dollar question.

Is Government school an option? Not quite as one knows of the reputation of these schools. Sadly they have not become the centre of excellence they should have been and remain in a poor if not abysmal state. We have first hand knowledge of this as all project why children attend them and share their day-to-day experiences. You have to hear them to believe them. Dickensian schools seem like heaven compared to what goes on in some of our state run institutions.

Every child now has the right to a good education. That is what our law makers wants us to believe. By this yardstick all schools in our country should be enabled to provide quality education. Education should in no way be a commercial enterprise an a way of enriching one’s self at the expense of helpless parents. Why should forms cost from 500 to 1000 Rs? The solutions proffered like the lottery system also do not make any sense. Come on! Should a child’s future be left to lady luck.

It is time the Government seriously walked the talked and not trivialise the issue as it seems to be doing. It is time they put their act together. The children of India deserve the best.

HUNGaMA

HUNGaMA

So finally the powers that be concede that malnutrition is a national shame! It took them a hell of a long time to do so. I have been harping about this for as long as I can remember. In an incisive article title Many mouths to feed, Annie Zaidi asks the disturbing and yet pertinent question: Do all Indians deserve to eat? Or do we believe that some of us deserve bottled water and broadband and truffles while some of us starve? The answer has to be a screaming YES! All 1,180,285,856 of us deserve to eat.

The recent HUGaMA report revealed some disturbing statistics: 60 % of the children suffer from some degree of malnutrition and 92% of the mothers surveyed had never heard of malnutrition. And how can we forget the most shocking statistic of all: 5000 children dying every day of malnutrition!

Now if we do believe that all Indians deserve to eat at least two square hot meals a day then why don’t we get riled at such statistics! Why do we not stop and think while serving ourselves large plates of food at the lavish parties we attend. Why don’t we see all the food that goes in our dustbins and that is still perfectly edible and ponder? Why are we so inured to glaring disparities that stare us at the face each and every day: children begging, people rummaging for food in garbage dumps, people sleeping in the freezing cold. I do not know the answers. I only know that such matters make my blood run cold and boil at the same time. I am also at a loss to understand why the so called well to do, intelligent and educated citizens of our country do not raise their voice as they did on the matter of corruption and the much talked about Lok Pal bill.

Millions do not get even a square meal a day. Millions of our children are stunted and malnourished. At the same time unimaginable amounts of food grain rot every year. Something is so very wrong and yet we remain mute and aloof.

The powers that be however are on the prowl and have sensed a good way to appease a public reeling under food rise and inflation. Why not push the Food Security Bill. It will have the much needed feelgood factor. But beware the said bill has a huge flow: though it legislates for specific amounts of food grains to be distributed to needy families, it lacks detail on how it plans to ensure this allocation.

According to a well written article without paying attention to effective distribution, the bill will simply exacerbate the problem of food wastage while millions continue to starve. Would it be impertinent to add: whilst many will find new ways of lining their bottomless pockets. Moreover according to the same article the bill will not uplift the rural population and actually hurt the farmer.

Wonder why? Another article gives a very precise example of how the true beneficiaries will fall out of the net courtesy the famed Socio Economic and Caste Census which is a mockery of the poor. If you have a mud house but it has a tarpaulin you fall off the net. Or what about this exmaple: Nani Devi, a 60-year-old  lives with her husband in a kuccha room house in Purohitaan village in Jaipur district. She has three sons, but all of them live separately and do not support them. The illiterate couple who belong to Scheduled Caste category has got a job card and is beneficiary under MGNREGA, but old age does not allow them to work much. They too will not get the famed BPL card and thus access to cheaper food.

Yet in all likelihood the bill will be passed as it is the pet project of the real powers that be and no political party would dare oppose it as it may anger the poor who see it as a panacea to all ills and are not able to understand the flaws and drawbacks. It seems to answer the very question stated at the beginning of this piece: do all Indians deserve to eat? And if the answer is yes, then it is time we found our selfish voices and did something. But will we? That remains the question.

India today

India today

The government is busy pushing a bill that will ensure that no one in our country goes hungry. This should be a wow moment for all as the 5000+ kids who die every day of malnutrition is a statistic we can well do without. The effort should be applauded as it would ensure that mothers need not stuff their children’s mouth with chili to ensure they drink a lot of water and hence do not feel hunger pangs, that no 5 year old look like a 2 year old. But somehow it does not fell right. What comes to mind is that it will be just another way for corrupt beings to fill their pockets. Had the now ageing ICDS scheme worked then no one below 30 should have been malnourished. We all know who the real beneficiaries of that scheme were: petty bureaucrats and politicians of all hues, corporate houses who were quick to hijack contracts and so on. Activists are already calling it flawed  One such activist states:”As far as children are concerned, whatever was mentioned in the draft has not come in this proposed Bill.”Many also feel that it will not reach the true beneficiaries. The whole effort may be well intended but is fraught with pitfalls that no one is willing to see. We all know what happened to the midday school meal! The reality is that children will still die of malnutrition in 21st century India 5000 a day.

That is one side of India: the hidden and dark side that everyone wants to brush under the carpet. An India that is real and should outrage the so called civil society. But that is never the case because a child dying in a remote village in the boonies does not affect the likes of us. So we remain mute, aloof, and unmoved. We only find our voice for things that let us say concern us.

The recent issue of a weekly carried the following headline on its cover: A voyeur’s guide to the Billionaire experience. Open the magazine and you will discover where and how the uber rich spend their money. The choice is ample: you can spend a night at a hotel in New Delhi @ of half a million rupees. And if that is enough you can splurge some more by buying yourself the most expensive (9999 rupees) pizza at the hotel’s signature restaurant. The same magazine invites you to taste a paan @ 5000 Rs, one that promises to increase your libido, or try the the new Rolls Royce priced at 3.25 crores. It is already a success and many have been sold. Confusing… not really this is India today!

remembering MANU

remembering MANU

Was it just a year ago that Manu left us? It seems like an eternity! With him around everything seemed easy and possible. After his departure nothing was ever the same. Friday January 7th 2011 dawned like any other chilly winter day. Nothing could make us think that it would change our lives forever.

Upon reaching project why I as always made my way to the special class located on the ground floor. I needed my feelgood shot: Manu’s smile. I was a little disappointed to see he was not there but remembered I was the one who had decreed that he should stay warm in his bed on exceptionally cold days and this was certainly one of them. I made a mental note to drop by the flat he lived in later and set out to the chores of the day. I cannot remember what exactly occurred but I was called away and never got to keeping my tryst with Manu on that fateful day. I never knew that tomorrow would never dawn.

It must have been 4pm or so when the girls called me. They had been on their way home when a call from the special educator summoned back to Manu’s home. A few minutes later a weeping Shamika informed me that Manu had left us forever. Time stopped. My mind and heart refused to believe what the ears had just heard. How could this have happened. True he had been a tad unwell but it was Manu we were talking of! He had weathered so many storms. He had always seemed invincible. A little cold could not get the better of him. There was something terribly wrong. I rushed to the flat, running up the three flights of stairs and entered the room where he lay. He just looked asleep. He would wake up and we would hear when his endearing moans. But that was not to be. He never answered my desperate appeals. He was gone. And with him a little of myself too.

I sat next to him, my hands stroking his face. I barely heard the teacher telling we what had happened, how he had asked for a glass of water, drank it and then while the teacher went to make him a cup of tea and get him two of his favourite biscuits, he simply slipped away as quietly as he had lived, without any fuss. That was Manu, a gentle soul who had survived a wretched life without a word of complaint or anger.

Today my thoughts go to him and to his exceptional life, a life that is nothing short of a miracle. Manu came to this earth with a purpose and a mission. You may wonder what purpose and mission a mentally and physically challenged being born in abject poverty could have. It is true that most of us would have brushed him away as yet another wretched beggar had we come across him wandering his street dirty and half clad; that his heart rendering cries would have seemed an irritant that we may have quietened by throwing him a coin. I still do not know why I did not do just that. Maybe everything was preordained. I stopped and looked at him with my heart and my life changed forever. I was to be the catalyst of Manu’s mission on this earth. How blessed was I.

Manu’s legacy is huge. If not for him there would not have been a project why. If not for him so many lives would never have been transformed, be it the now thousands of children who have got access to education, the scores of kids with repaired hearts, the many hopeless souls who now have dignified employment, the bunch of disabled kids who now spend their day happy and so on. Manu was born to conjure miracles and boy he did.

If not for Manu a depressed and lost woman would not have found her way and discovered what she was capable of. Yes it was Manu who made the impossible possible. He lifted my sagging spirits and allowed me to soar. As long as he was at my side I could conquer the world.

With him gone my gait has lost its bounce, my shoulders have sagged and my spirit suddenly seems fallible. With him gone what once was effortless is now back breaking. True I know we need to carry on as that is the only way to honour his memory but the road seems long and replete with challenges that now seem almost insurmountable. Yet I know I will soldier on. I have to. For Manu.

Gifts of love

Gifts of love

A gift of love came our way lifting our sagging spirits a little. This one was truly bejeweled. Thousands of miles from the slums in which we work Kashmira a lovely lady with a huge heart sat day after day crafting some incredible pieces. With every pearl she threaded and every knot Kashmira tied she wove dreams for little children she had never met. Then one day when she thought she had sufficient jewels she decided to organise a sale urging all her friends to buy a piece reminding them that the proceeds would come to us. Yesterday a cheerful mail dropped in my mail box announcing her success. She had managed to collect quite a substantive amount and had mailed it to us. She added that this was to be an on going effort. Wow I was floored. It is easy to click an online donation option or even write a cheque but to spend your free time crafting gifts of love is rare and overwhelming.

We over the years have been privileged to be the recipients of many such efforts. Would you believe it if I told you that a kind soul from the UK spent his Xmas day or actually over 22 hours painting a mural for our tiny tots! It was a cold day – by Indian standards at least – and the building was empty and almost eerie. As early as 7 am, notwithstanding a late Xmas eve do, Gareth was in the building with his paint, his creativity and his big heart. To keep him company were his iPhone and a bottle of water. When we dropped by with some tea and cake, he had  sketched the mural. It would take him 22 long hours to finish painting it. But he did not go to bed, he wanted to see the little faces when they saw the, lion giraffe, elephant, hippos and other friendly creatures that adorn their wall. The children were a little awed at first but soon started recognising the different animals and shouting it their names. The 22 hours were worth every smile on the little faces. Gareth’s gift of love was also a very special fund raiser.

Gareth and Kashmira are very special souls as they see with their hearts. It is thanks to and because of people like them that Project Why has been able to carry on despite many obstacles. It is because of people like them that miracles come our way when the night is at it darkest. This time we were able to save one of our early education programmes. They are like rays of sunshine on a dark day and compel us to believe that there is still hope in our world, no matter what it looks like. God bless them!

Where does it go

Where does it go

 This is an infinitesimal part of the lavish buffet of a New Year’s eve party in a uppity club of our capital city. The copious fare was preceded by abundant snacks as is always the case. On the rare occasions I have attended such parties, I have never found the my way to the buffet as the snacks alone were plenty. I guess there are many like me. At best we peck at the food to please the hosts. I still remember an uber rich wedding dinner where the buffet was unending and offered every possible cuisine imaginable, even an omelet station! That was the first time I discovered visual indigestion. A simple walk along the buffet aimed at deciding what to partake ended in my inability to eat anything. I have long stopped gracing such occasions as I am one of the few I guess who can never forget the 5000+ children who die of malnutrition every day in our country. But that is my cross and I bear it alone.

The idea of this post was subsequent to a simple question I asked one of the club members: where does the left over food go as no one can tell me that there are no leftovers! The person looked at me blankly and mumbled an incomprehensible answer. I nagged him a bit and he promised me to find out. But I can guess where it goes: most probably into a bin! Have you ever asked yourselves where all the food left over from lavish parties goes? Maybe it time we should.

Let it go

Let it go

Drop the last year into the silent limbo of the past. Let it go, for it was imperfect, and thank God that it can go wrote Brooks Atkinson. Yes that is exactly what I want to do at the close of the year as it was an imperfect one! I want to welcome the new year with open arms and hope in my heart, hope that troubles will blow away and dreams fulfilled. The only deviation I may allow myself is to use the few hours left and take stock of our mistakes with honesty and candour.

I know we herald the New Year with our share of problems but it is time to take them head on and do our best. Perhaps we had grown a little too ambitious or put all our eggs in one basket. It is time for a new approach and that will be our New Year resolution.

It may also be time to candidly celebrate our achievements and look at our failures as hiccups in our wonderful story. Nothing can be perfect and fools are those who believe so. I was one of them. It is time I realise that the coming year is also the one that makes of me a senior citizen and thus it is also time that I shed my temerity and adopt wiser ways. I am ready to take on the challenges ahead and meet them full on. It promises to be an exciting year.

To all those who have been part of my incredible I want to say a heartfelt Thank You! It would not have been possible without each one of you, be it the children and team of the project, the exceptional volunteers who have come and given their time and love, the two little boys in the picture – Agastya and Utpal – who have drowned me with pure love, to my family who is my strength, and to all those who have believed in my dream and made it possible by always seeing with their hearts

I wish you all  a blessed and exceptional new year filled with peace, success, love and serenity. God bless you.

Happy New Year!

For no fault of theirs

For no fault of theirs

Come Monday these little souls and their pals will not have a creche to come and play in. The sleepless nights did not bring any counsel. The innumerable mails sent, the countless doors knocked at, the umpteen appeals and entreaties remained unheeded. No one heard the silent cries of these little Angels. Yes, for no fault of theirs their three wheeler that went to fetch them every morning will stop doing so. Instead of learning, dancing singing, laughing in a warm and happy environment, these children will now brave the cold in their humid and dark homes or on the streets of their slums.

They have not been told as yet as I am still waiting for a miracle. A glimmer of hope is on the horizon and the children may get a reprieve but the Damocles sword still hangs on our heads as unless we are able to secure funding for a length of time.

From the time I came to terms with the fact that our early may close altogether or at best be truncated, I have found myself slinking past the two baby classes, avoiding to meet their innocent and trusting eyes and willing myself not to hear their laughter and endearing babble. This is so unlike me as normally I would make it a point to enter their classrooms yearning to hear their loud and happy Good Morning Ma’am. I often lingered on watching them at work or play and soaking in their cheerfulness. Now I hurry past and almost run up the stairs in spite of my creaking knees.

I hope for a miracle but will it come. Only time will tell.

Project Why 2011

Project Why 2011

To write a report about Project Why is always a thrilling experience.  It is perhaps the only time one can truly assess and appreciate all that has happened in a single moment. Project Why is a vibrant blend of a host of different activities in diverse locations and one never truly gets to appreciate them together except when one sits down to write a report!
The year gone by was once again and thrilling one. We had our share of highs and lows, some quite disquieting.


The year dawned with a terrible event that shattered us all. Manu who was the soul and spirit of Project Why passed away gently on a cold January day. Many thought, and quite rightly so that we would cave in and fade away but they were wrong. If Manu was the reason it all began, he was also the force that imbued us to carry on, more so after his passing as that was the only way we could truly honour his memory. The biggest lesson he had given us was that nothing is impossible and that life was to be celebrated no matter how worthless it may seem. So 2011 had to be a special year, one befitting the spirit of Manu. And he did just that. 2011 turned out to be quite an exciting year.
     
15 August 2011
Independence Day and Ram Goburdhun Centenary Celebrations


Before outlining the activities of different centres, one would like to share the highlight of 2011, which undoubtedly was the celebration of our Independence Day, which coincided with the Centenary of Ram Goburdhun in whose memory Project Why was created.

Children from all centres participated in these celebrations. The show was breathtaking in more ways than one. The passion of the children, the quality of the different items and the warmth of the audience made it a unique experience. The large community hall was packed and the foot tapping music and dance were appreciated by one an all.
You can share some of these very special moments by clicking on the following link:
The magic of a celebration
At the end of the show children who had topped their respective classes were honoured with medals.
It was truly a wow moment for project why.


GOVINDPURI – OKHLA – GIRI NAGAR
Number of children:  ~550

Number of Staff: 25

OKHLA

Primary Classes

  Our Okhla centre has been in existence for six years. The journey began in a garbage dump that we ‘reclaimed’! It all began in a makeshift structure of bamboo and plastic sheets amidst extreme resentment. Today it is a happy centre under a tin roof, with walls and even fans. The centre runs in 2 shifts with boys in the morning and girls in the afternoon.

The children come from extremely deprived homes, most of migrant labour. When we first came in the area 90% of the children were not going to school. Many were peddling drugs or engaged in petty theft. Now all our children are in school and doing well.
In early 2010 we began spoken English classes to help children build their confidence. Children are taught through fun activities like story telling, educational games etc. Environment classes are also held. Children are taught how to keep the neighbourhood clean, prevent disease and make the planet plastic free. Unfortunately we had to close the English classes because of lack of funding.

The primary children were taken for an outing to the Science Museum and participated in a First Aid workshop at the American School.

The Okhla team, staff and children is extremely motivated and committed to their school. It is the only centre where children participate actively in painting the school every Diwali each child contributing five rupees and the teachers coming up with the balance. They have truly taken ownership of their centre.

As each year the children celebrated all the festivals with gusto and joy. A painting competition was organised by them. The children are fond of dancing and always perform for visitors and friends.
Many children topped their respective classes in school and done us proud.

Secondary classes

 Secondary were started recently on popular demand as our own students had graduated and wanted to continue studying with us. Children are helped with difficult subjects like maths and English and are also taught to study independently.

Over and above school curriculum, we endeavour to widen the knowledge of the children, something crucial for children from deprived homes. The students are taught to explore encyclopaedias and general knowledge books from our well stocked library. The centre also subscribes to newspapers to help them keep abreast with every day occurrences.

During exam time the students have regular tests based on sample papers. The pressure of exams is such that it leaves little time for extra curricular activities. However for the 15 August celebrations the students wrote and performed a play in English based on the Gandhi’s Dandi march.

The students benefit from the volunteers who come time and again and share their knowledge and skills.
Monday to Friday is reserved for studies, whereas Saturdays are for other activities.

Computer Classes

 Computer classes were also started on popular demand as we were told that there were no computer classes in the vicinity and that those that were there were very costly. Thanks to some generous donors we got 3 computers and began classes. These are extremely popular. The classes are taught by Mithu who is physically impaired after polio in his childhood.  He was a student of pwhy who showed keen interest in computers. He worked as a teacher’s aide in our main computer centre before taking over the Okhla computer centre.
This year 3 students obtained their certificates and our teacher participated in an one day NIIT teaching workshop. We are in the process of finalising a programme with NIIT. This will enable our students to get NIIT certificates after completion of a 3 month course.
You can read about special moments of our Okhla centre here:
Let my country awake
So many smiles
Happy R Day

GOVINDPURI

Early Education

Early education has always been a great concern for us as early education is still not in the ambit of free education. Experience shows that slum toddlers do not lead a privileged life in the arms of caring parents. By the time they reach school, they are unsocial difficult children who find it extremely difficult to adjust to a set pattern and routine. Our early intervention programme is above all aimed at giving toddlers and pre-schoolers the right to early childhood in a safe environment.
Most of our children come from extremely deprived homes though some also belong to higher social strata, as some parents in the neighbourhood chose to send their children to our crèche.

Our early education programme is divided in two classes:

Crèche: Here the children range from 1 to 5. They are taught poems, counting, how to hold a pencil, draw a straight line. They are also taught to draw, sing and dance.

Prep: After a year in the crèche the children are moved to the prep section where they are prepared for entry into Class I.  They are taught English and Hindi alphabets, numbers, etc.

The children enjoy their time with us and make the most of it. Any time you walk into these classes you are greeted with a huge smiles and loud Namastes!

The main drawback of these classes is that we are unable to follow the children once they ‘graduate’ from our programme. This is due to the fact that they come from a slum where we do not have an outreach primary programme or belong to families who put them in better schools.

The programme is also an onerous one as we provide free transport and lunch to many of the students hailing from very poor homes.

This is why we may close the crèche in its present form and eventually think of opening a new one with children from a locality where we have primary outreach

Primary Outreach



This class was started in April 2010, after we closed down two of our small centres.

Many children come from Sanjay Colony and Govindpuri slums. What is quite moving is that some children are also surrogate parents to the younger siblings. The brother looks after the younger sibling in the morning and then hands the child over to the sister after she finishes school. The younger sibling thus spends the day at pwhy!

After a slow start, the centre gained momentum and soon the classes were filled to capacity. The children enjoy their time at project why and are happy learning.

What is remarkable in this class is that Anita, one of the teachers is a project why alumni. She has been with us since nursery and completed her class XII this year.

Many children got good positions in their school exams and were given prizes.
True blue
Only wish it shall be great

Library

Thanks to a huge donation of books we were able to start a Library in our old classroom in Giri Nagar. Children come and read books or take them home and enjoy the experience. The library also has a TV and DVD player and is thus a cine club! Pwhy children come and see movies or cartoons once a week.
As our librarian has time on his hands, he also runs a small primary class for 20 children from the locality.

Special needs section

The start of 2011 did not augur well for this section as Manu passed away on January 6th leaving all his pals stunned. They grieved for him in the most touching manner but soon realised that life has to go on. A smiling picture of Manu now hangs on the wall reminding each and everyone of us that his spirit is to be honoured.

The plight of children with disabilities has always been of great concern to us as they are by far the most neglected of all. More so as they grow into young adults and become a ‘burden’ for their families. Manu was the most poignant example of this sad reality.

We run a day care for 20 children and young adults with disabilities. The children have a vast array of disabilities both physical and/or mental. The main trust of the programme is to help these children and young adults gain independent living skills and if and when possible some vocational skills to help them become income earning members of their families thus regaining the respect they have often lost.
They also have a lot of creative and fun activities. Dancing is the all time favourite.
A speech therapist visits the centre regularly.
The children are also taught computer skills.

As the section has shifted to a bigger place, we are hoping to be able to add new activities such as cooking, baking, housekeeping, gardening etc. These will prove useful to them in the future.
This year the special children made some beautiful diyas for Diwali. These were sold and with the money they ‘earned’, gifts were bought for all and a super party organised with everyone’s favourite food. Everyone had a ball.
Farewell to Manu
Walk the talk
You take care of them God
Radha is back

Residential Programme for children with disabilities

This programme was a started to ensure that Manu, the young adult with disabilities that we found on the streets 10 years ago has a place to call home.  He was then joined by Anjali and Champa who were also homeless and at high risk of being abused. In winter they were joined by Radha for whom the extreme cold is a nightmare in her dark and damp hole. However, Manu passed away, and Anjali left the facility leaving Champa alone. We closed the residential centre and made arrangements for Champa to live with one of the special educators. We were sorry to have had to close this facility as it was a wonderful place!
Here are some glimpses of what life was in this very special place:
We are dancers, we create dreams
Give him his dinner
To the manor born

GIRI NAGAR

Senior Secondary classes
These classes are from IX to XII and focus mainly on mathematics and accountancy, as these are subjects that are feared the most by students. As every year, our students have passed their X and XII with excellent marks and some have even topped their respective schools.
We also sponsored the technical course fees of two of our best students: one for the course of lab assistant and the other for a diploma in electronic engineering.
Why not sponsor a future


Computer classes

Number of students: 38 per batch
Our computer classes are very popular. We have 10 computers and run 6 month courses. Many of our ex students have got jobs in companies, banks, etc.’ Saturdays are reserved for pwhy children.
In 2011, 31 students completed their certificate in a variety of courses Basic, Tally, DTP, Flash Animation, Hardware – and secured good jobs.

After school support for the hearing impaired
Thrice a week we provide space to 20 hearing impaired secondary students for after school support classes. These are run by our special educator.

Boarding school Programme

We sponsor 8 children in a boarding school. These are children from extremely deprived homes and would have never completed their studies and most probably dropped out and become child labour. The children are in different classes and each one of them tops his or her respective class
This is by far our most cherished programme as it is in consonance with what we stand for: equal opportunities for all children born in India. The programme is supported by individual donors.
 My never fail feelgood shot
She does not stop smiling
From five to eight
From vedic maths to table manners

Success Stories
Okhla
Kusum hails from Bihar. When her family moved to Delhi she was 12 and had never been to school. She wanted to study but was ashamed of going to school in class I. She joined pwhy and began to learn form scratch. Being bright and motivated she learned quickly and we got her admitted to class VI. Now she is in class X!

Harichanda was 8 when he first came to project why. He did not go to school and would roam the streets and fight with other children. We coaxed him to join the centre and turned out to be a very bright child. We called his mother and asker her why she did not get him admitted to school, she said she was illiterate and did not know how to go about it. We got him admission in class III. Now he is in class VI.

Firoz was 15 and lived closed to the centre. The boy was nice but had got in wrong company and would steal  and peddle drugs. He come to us and told us he wanted to study and we accepted him in spite of his age. He slowly dropped his bad habits. He was good dancer so one of our supporters sponsored dance classes for him at the Ashley Lobo Academy. Today he is a driver and has been sent to Mumbai by his company.

Sumit was in class III when he joined us. His elder brother who is 14 is an addict and steals from the goods trains. He stopped coming to the centre and wanted to emulate his brother but we talked to him and he is now coming regularly and also going to school.

Computer section
Abhay was 18 when we first met him. He lived in Delhi with hid grandfather who was very poor. We coaxed him into joining our computer course and he did exceedingly well. We helped him get a job with Vodafone where he is today a team leader earning 15 000 Rs a month.

Mohammed Husain use to iron clothes with his father while studying in school. A bright student he finished his class XII with good marks. Seeing his desire to learn new things we got him to join our computer classes as we felt it would help him accede to a better future. He today works as a computer operator at NDTV and earns 10 000 rs a month.

Preeti is 20. She comes from a poor family and has a mentally challenged sister. She is very bright but had to give up her studies to start cleaning houses to help her family. She wanted to join the computer course so we sponsored her. Today she works in a private company as a computer operator and earns 6000 Rs a month

Note: It is imperative that students acquire a skill to be able to break the cycle they are born in and improve their chances. Many of our students who have completed their studies with us have also completed their computer course. This has enabled them to get good jobs.
Many are employed as computer operators in different organisations earning between 6000 and 10 000 Rs. Some are employed as teachers and a few as hardware technicians.

 

THE PROJECT WHY WOMEN CENTRE
MADANPUR KHADER

Number of children: 280
Number of women: 70
Number of staff: 16
 
Primary Section Class I to V

From the very outset of the project we ran primary classes for the children of the community.  The classes are held in 2 shifts: boys in the morning and girls in the afternoon. Each shit was divided in two 1.30 minutes shifts.

Many of our children have left the centre as their families had to relocate because of the increase in rents. Most of our children are from migrant families and thus live on rented premises. Till recently rents were low in Khader Village but the construction of the metro resulted in rents being upped and thus inaccessible to migrant families.

At first we thought of looking for new children but then, after much deliberation decided to change our focus from ‘quantity to quality’ and thus instead of enrolling more children we decided to increase their timings. Now children stay for an extra hour and half and are taught spoken English and general knowledge. This ranges from teaching them about the environment to story telling, science, geography, creative activities etc all taught in an interactive and fun manner.

In the global economy of today, helping the children improve their ability to speak English guarantees them better job options when they finish their studies.  Children do learn English at school, but teaching quality is state run schools is poor and most children do not have the sort of home environment where they are encouraged to speak it or indeed have anyone to speak it with and are thus lacking in confidence. Sadly the spoken English classes have been closed down as the persons funding this programme expressed their inability to continue doing so.

We also want to try and make our children better citizens and hence the general knowledge component which is designed to enable them to acquire more rounded life skills.

Moreover the new education policy whereby no child can fail till class VIII has made it imperative for us to educate children, as education in Government schools is practically non-existent.

  Secondary Section

These classes are also held in two shifts. Emphasis is laid on the school curriculum and teaching the child to study independently and enable him to get good results in the school leaving examinations and thus accede to further education.

Computer Classes

This class was started on popular demand by the children, who are fascinated by computers. Thanks to some generous donors we have 5 computers. The children enjoy these classes immensely and always ask for more.

Spoken English:

This class was launched in April 2010.
The main focus in the English classes is as follows:
Encourage the child to use language in speech to express feelings and opinions, to reach out to others, and thus slowly accept English as a means of communication.
Emphasis is laid on motivating the child to use language even if there are errors. Correction is incorporated gradually and gently.
The classes have been a huge success but the departure of the teacher and shortage of funds have forced us to suspend them for the time being.

Environment and awareness

The first issues taken were water and plastic as well as cleanliness of the surroundings. This is particularly relevant as the centre is located in a village where access is trough a small lane replete with buffaloes. Children were also encouraged to plant some green plants and learn to tend to them and respect them.

Water and the plastic menace are issues that are discussed on a daily basis as 10 minutes are set aside for this after every class. Children are encouraged to come up with their own solutions. In one case children felt that too much water was wasted while drinking water from the Mayur jug at the women centre. It was decided that children would have water drinking water breaks and these would be supervised by a class monitor! Some children have now stopped bringing plastic bags and urge their friends to do the same. Peer pressure seems to be the best way to ensure such changes! Waste water is also used to water the plants

On Saturday the children clean the surroundings of the centre. Though there was initial resistance from the community who felt that we were making children do ‘dirty’ work, we were able to convince them that this was not the case and now we find some of the older ladies helping with the cleanliness campaign!

Several issues were covered this year. Workshops on the following issues were held: Right to Education, Constitution of India, Jan Lok Pal bill etc. A sex education workshop was held for girls only.
Creative activities

Children are encouraged to express their views through essay competitions. The children were asked to write on a variety of subjects.

A six week photography workshop on the theme ‘respect’ was held in July/August for 6 children of class VII. The children exhibited their work during our 15 August celebrations and everyone was touched by the sensitivity of the pictures. These children are given cameras every day for half an hour to chronicle the activities of their centre.

Children also painted posters for the annual Pantomime show held in the UK. The theme this year was Jack and the Bean Stalk.

Children celebrated Gandhi Jayanti and Children’s Day. They made posters on the lives of Gandhi and Nehru. A science competition was also organised and the children from all classes made interesting models.
We have now decided that once a month we will organise an open day where each class will report on what they have done individually and as a class.

Sewing Classes

The classes are taught by two young ladies who did their training at our centre.
The classes are held thrice a week from 10 to 3. Timings are flexible to suit the trainees, as many have home and families to tend to. Certificates are given every six months
Some of our ex trainees are now gainfully employed. While some have taken full time employment others get contractual jobs from export houses that they do at home. The certificates help them in securing such work.

Beauty Classes

Classes are held daily and are very popular. Some trainees have secured jobs in local beauty parlours. Others work from home.

Adult education classes for women

In order to promote adult education we have made these classes compulsory for all women attending sewing and beauty classes. The classes are for 30 minutes. The women have to pass a small exam. If they do not clear it they do not receive their vocational certificate. We had to resort to this extreme measure as when the course was optional, ladies always found an excuse not to attend

Awareness within the community

Regular meetings are organised with the parents of our children. These enable us to discuss many issues: Right to Education, Corporal Punishment, Nutrition, Vaccination etc.

Counselling

Counselling is done on a case-to-case basis. It maybe counselling the children on issues like stealing, fighting, lying etc or counseling parents. Recently one of our student’s got an opportunity to learn classical music, something he was very interested in. The father was against the idea but we managed to convince him. Young Parveen performed in public at a recent show.

Challenges

Rent raise:  With the construction a metro line in the vicinity, rents in Khader village have shown an exponential increase. Most of our children are from migrant labour families and lived till date in rented rooms in the village. Many have had to relocate in cheaper areas leading to the children having to leave the centre. We too fear that our landlord may soon do the same.

Girl child:
Education of girls in India has always been a challenge particularly in underprivileged homes. When a girl is born the main worry of her parents is to start saving for her marriage. Education is secondary. Hence girls are sometimes not sent to school and even if they are the school is not a priority. Often girls are held back at home for household chores or to look after younger siblings. We even have 6 years old looking after their little brothers or sisters.
We even lost two of our brightest girls as they were sent to the village to look after their ageing grandparents!
Gender equality is one of the issues that we raise both with the children and during parents meeting and community awareness meetings.

No fail policy
The new education policy voted this year stipulates that no child will fail till class VIII. This child friendly policy works well in good schools where internal assessment in house monitoring ensures that children learn. In state run schools however there is no teaching at all and children are pushed from class to class. If some kind of support is not given the children from underprivileged homes will remain practically illiterate! This makes our role more challenging and important.

Social issues.
In spite of our having been on the field for almost three years we realise that social change is slow to come and has to be pursued with patience and determination. Issues like beating of children in homes, limiting the size of the family, early marriage of girls, domestic violence are those we try to address relentlessly.

SUCCESS STORIES

Neetu is 20 and passed her class XII. She has 5 siblings. She is physically handicapped because of polio. After the death of her father she was terribly depressed, as she did not see what her future would be. She joined us as a crèche aide but then went on to complete her beautician training. When our previous teacher left we decided to give her a chance and employed her. Today she runs our beautician programme with flair and commitment; Neetu has reason to smile again.

Sonia is self-taught. Her father runs a small tea stall and the family is poor. Sonia wants to do a BA in Education but did not want to be a burden for her father. She completed a computer course in an NGO but no one was willing to give her a job as she did not have the right social profile. We did. Today she can aspire to her dreams.

Geeta has passed her class XII and done a Teacher’s Training Course. She is 36 and has two children. Her husband is a drunk and does not earn anything. Geeta bears all expenses of the home and is always in financial straits.  Her in-laws are no support at all. She came for her job and we gave her one. She is our secondary teacher and a very good one. Now she can support her family and above all the education of her children.


Bhuvnashewari is in class 3 and is 13. For along time she could not go to school because her parents were construction workers working at different places. Now her father has got a job and the mother still works on sites. Bhuvnashewari does all the housework, washes clothes, cooks and cleans. If things are not done properly, she is beaten by her mother. But she has dreams and wants to study and be a doctor. Will we be able to fulfil her dreams.

Rakhi is 21 and cleans people’s home and cooks for them. She wants to study and comes to the centre in the afternoons. She had always wanted to go to regular school but never could as her family needed her support and she began to work at the age of 7. She lives in rented premises and her dream is to one day own a small house.

Shezadi is 17 and has 5 siblings. She works in people’s home since the age of 10 and has never been to school. Her father is a construction worker. She had always wanted to study and be doctor or teacher to earn enough money to look after her mother who is ailing. She comes to our centre to be able to learn and perhaps change her life.

Amita is 15 and lives with her uncle and aunt. Her father lives in Nepal and she has 6 siblings. She was sent here to earn and send money to her village as her father is ailing and the sisters need to be married. She comes to our adult education class and dreams of being a teacher.

IMPACT
Stitching Classes:
Madhu Singh, Hansa Devi, Indira Yadav , Savitri Kumari and Bhavna are now  able to add to the family income by bringing contract work at home!
Chanda and Asha now employed in export houses.

Drop out rates.
Drop out rates have been arrested and our children are often topping their classes.

Empowerment of women
Village women are now coming out of their homes to acquire a skill. We hope this is the first step towards their empowerment

Social impact
The village is inhabited by people of different castes and communities. There are even separate areas for each caste/community. However at project why they all come under one roof to learn, thus breaking age-old barriers. This is very encouraging as women who never spoke to each other are doing so and who knows maybe friendships are being formed.
 Celebrating Gandhi Jayanti
English medium stars
Girl and the broom
Incredible team
On borrowed time

THE FUTURE

We hope to be able to continue our work for years to come, as true change cannot be achieved in a limited time. To see the real impact of our programmes, be it with children, women or the community we need to be able to carry on our activities for at least some more years. This would enable us to work out a transition where the community itself will be empowered enough to spearhead activities and generate resources. Otherwise our work would have been in vain.
However the past year has been a difficult one and the next one looks bleak. Unless we get some firm commitments we might have to close some sections of our project.
I just hope it does not come to that!

education bizmess

education bizmess

Want to make money? Start a sham school. There is arider however you need to be politically connected and live in India. It is a very lucrative business, believe me. How does it work? Well simple: you create a school and enroll loads of bogus students. So you have 1000 + students on paper and only a couple of hundreds actually and if need be at inspection time you ‘hire’ the missing numbers @ 1500 a day! It is believed that 1000 of crores can be made this way.

The modus operandi is spelt out in a recent article in a leading weekly that gives the findings of a recent survey. The survey found that class nine students of Ashapuri High School, Patan, were unable to do simple arithmetic problems. When questioned they said that they were brought to the school just two days earlier.The government gives schools 04.50 per student for mid-day meal, besides 3kg rice every month. As per the norms, each school should have one teacher for every 50 students and the salary starts at Rs:14,000. Nashik has 5,154 schools and 12,14,000 students are on the rolls. But nearly one lakh students were absent during the inspection. More shocking was the absence of 667 teachers and 234 non-teaching staff. So far, government funds to the tune of Rs:1,233 crore have allegedly been swindled by the managements of these schools. Get the picture. You have loads of fake students and encash all the government goodies.

Our politicians have really mastered the art of swindling. Wish they mastered the art of ruling as well. Wishful thinking I guess. But let us go back to our story and understand what it actually means. Simply education denied to thousands of children who could have benefited from the hijacked funds. But that is not all. What is truly disturbing is the fact that education is now viewed simply as a means to gain money. At one end of the spectrum you have uber rich schools that charge astronomical amounts and at the other schools that are abysmal or even worse that simply do not exist! No one is really interested in imparting education at all. And NO one cares about the teaching children.

This fact was highlighted in another article this week on home schooling an option that sensible educated parents are opting for as no really lessons are learnt in schools that are obsessed by numbers: be it pupils or marks! But this option is for a very few very privileged children.

For the past 12 years project why has been trying to bridge the gap and the bittersweet reality is that it has managed to do so quite well with very meagre resources. Every year scores of children have learnt and achieved: be it in their school examinations or in the dreaded Board examinations. I say bittersweet because though we celebrate every single achievement with pride and joy we cannot for get the millions of children who are deprived of quality education or of any education at all.

Merry Xmas

Merry Xmas

Manu and Father Xmas

Xmas is around the corner. The children of our special class are busy decorating their tree.
Xmas has always been festive time in the special section. A time for joy and cheer. A time for goodies and presents, a time of laughter and giggles. Every year the children trim their tree with love and care, each one making a unique ornament and hanging it. How can I forget the time when Munna decided to hang a simple white sock. Somehow that sock looked just right! Yet this year it will not be quite the same. Manu is no more be with us.

I can never forget the Xmas when Santa came to town. It was pure magic. Each and everyone had his or her special moment with Santa. Manu did too. I still wonder what the two of them shared but I am sure it was something incredibly precious.
To me Manu epitomized the spirit of Xmas as his existence was nothing short of a miracle. It was the indubitable proof that every human life, no matter how wretched, is to be cherished and celebrated as every life has been crafted with a purpose that needs to be discovered. Manu’s was to seed project why! How blessed he was, and how blessed was I to have stumbled upon him. He became the spirit of pwhy and my inner strength. When he was around nothing was impossible.

This Xmas my thoughts go to him, to all that remained unsaid because I felt there was enough time, that he would always be there with us. Did I ever expressed the immense gratitude I felt for all that Manu gave me. I do not think so. Perhaps it is only after he left for a better world that I truly realised all that he had bestowed upon me. With him around it was Xmas everyday! There was not a single day when I was not treated to one of Manu’s special smiles. Even if he was in a bad mood, and that happened quite often, the moment I walked in his face would light up. On better days he would ask me to come near him. He would sometimes gently touch my face or tap the space next to him asking me to sit. And my heart would melt and tears well in my eyes. If he was eating, he would immediately hold out his hand and share his treat. I can never forget the first time he did that, way back in 2000. It was a very privileged and blessed moment for the both of us.

Yes I owe a lot to Manu and it is time I expressed it with the hope that wherever he is, he will find the time to stop and hear me. Manu gave a purpose to my life. He made me discover a part of me I did not know existed. He gave me strength to take on impossible challenges and fulfill them, he made my most far fetched dreams possible, even the one of giving him a home till death did us part. He actually made this happen far too soon. Sometimes I feel he was an angel sent by the God of Lesser beings to hold my hand and show me the way. How do you pay such a debt of gratitude.

Manu was to me what the fox was to the Little Prince. He taught me the true meaning of ‘seeing with your heart’, a lesson engraved in my soul forever. From the instant I met him, my life was never  the same: it has been gently infused by all that is good and pure. Manu was a saintly soul and I fortunate to have loved him.

His legacy is huge and sacred. I hope I am able to honour his memory in every way possible. This Xmas I feel his presence around me. It is time to murmur the ‘thank you’ that remained far too long in my heart.

Merry Xmas!

agastya’s class

agastya’s class

I have just experienced one of the most difficult day in my entire existence. It was the day I had to sound the first stroke of the death knell of one of our classes. For the past weeks and even months the sword of Damocles has been hanging on my head. The precarious condition of our funds has been such that the inevitable had to happen. All pleas and entreaties fell on deaf years. Maybe I cried wolf too many times and was not believed.

It is true that all looked well to one and all. Yes project why ran like a clockwork orange and delivered its promises as hoped. The only one who knew the reality behind the scenes was me. For the past year I had been juggling numbers to keep afloat. Yet I knew that it would not be possible to do so forever and that it was time to see the writing on the wall. We had to see reason and make the needed adjustments. I know many will ask why we allowed ourselves to grow beyond our means. It is a very valid query. However the answer is complex. Our growth has always been organic and stemmed out of real needs. And each need was always sustained by our supporters. Hence one of the reason for our crisis is the last moment withdrawal of committed support. A real case of force majeure! Yet this is not the first time we have faced such a dilemma. When such a situation occurred I always managed to find alternatives though it was difficult. Today I have grown older and cannot muster the energy needed to make this option good. Moreover our inability to secure funding for our sustainability plan has made it imperative to garner all efforts to find a plan B. So to cut things short, we need to make some savings for want of a better word.

Reason decreed that the ones to go would be the babies. Sounds terrible and brutal, doesn’t it? But somehow it meets all the criteria of reason. Our early education programme was started because we felt that the toddlers needed to be cared for and have a safe enabling environment to grow and learn, particularly as the 0 to 6 are out of the ambit of free education in India. Actually the creche was one of the first programmes we started way back in 2001. All was on course in the initial years as project why was small and in one neighborhood so the kids could move from one class to another. I can never forget the days when we taught under a huge tent in a reclaimed pig park and all classes were under one big yellow plastic tent. But then the Gods got jealous and courtesy wily politicos and their scheming alter egos – small officials – our tent was bulldozed and project why got scattered. Today the creche has the most adorable children but sadly a large chunk of them come from a far away slum where we have no primary outreach. The rest come from better homes from the area where we are located. This results in our losing most of the children once they have completed their 2 or 3 years with us. The former resume roaming the streets as their parents do not get them admitted in school, and the later go to better schools. They never become project why alumni!

So the moment one has to start contemplating a cut in pwhy, they seem to be the most logical ones to chose. Never mind if they are the most assiduous, the most endearing and the most innocent. Never mind if they have been Agastya’s classmates for many many months. Never mind if they have the most endearing eyes or the infectious smile. They are the ones the sword has fallen on and they will have to go. And all this because a old biddy was unable to walk that extra step and save them.

I cannot begin to describe what is going on my mind. Words are too paltry to convey the emotions and pain I am feeling. The countdown has begun and soon the day will dawn when these lovely souls will take their last autorickshaw ride back to their homes. Will I have the courage to stand and wave them goodbye for the final time knowing in my heart that I am sending them back to the streets. Or will I hide in a hole and weep. Will I ever have the courage to ever look at myself in the mirror and like what I see. Will I be able to live with the guilt of having broken the dreams of these innocent souls. I do not know.

I shared this with a dear friend and all she could say was ‘who will hold your hand’. The answer is ‘no one I guess’. This cross is for me to bear alone so help me God!

Are you OK

Are you OK

Hope you’re doing fine..I didn’t see any blog posts from you wrote a dear friend. Are you OK? You haven’t updated your blog wrote another. No I am not OK! And I am not talking of the few aches and pains, they come and go and have never had the ability to make me lose my spirit. I am not OK because in spite of my best efforts I will soon have to put planet why to rest. I am not OK because I have been unable to raise the missing numbers we need to run and have to decide which part of pwhy will have to be closed down as the new year dawns. I am not OK because I feel I am letting down those I love most and who have given me more than I could ever have dreamt of. I am not OK because I feel the God of Lesser beings has finally stopped smiling at me.

It is true that for the past weeks my virtual pen has remained silent. It is not easy to share failure. My mind is bursting with images and thoughts I can barely control. Images of happy days gone by but also dark images of the days to come. Which children will be sacrificed, which teachers will lose their small yet critical jobs. Why was I not able to keep my ship afloat. Where did I go wrong.
The future of project why looks bleak. Once upon not so long ago I was tormented by the question: what will happen to pwhy after me? I thought I had come up with a wow solution – namely planet why – a solution filled with optimism and cheer. For some time everything seemed on track barring a few glitches. We managed the land, a sustainability report that was brighter than expected, a beautiful eco friendly model. All that was needed was the money. Yet in spite of promises and our best efforts we were unable to raise the needed funds. But we still did lose heart and were confident of coming up with an alternative sooner than later. I was still OK.
The crunch came some days back when it was time to plan the coming year’s funding. There was a huge gap. Many of our regular donors had backed out; the reasons were numerous I guess though no one ever admits them: economic crunch, donor fatigue, new options. Your guess is as good as mine. We too were at fault one must admit. Had we not once again sunk into comfort zones thinking that all would remain unchanged. No point in crying over spilled milk. The reality is that things are bleak and one has to take some drastic steps. Part of pwhy will have to go. But who?

I have spent sleepless nights wondering just that. It is like Sophie’s choice. Which child of yours do you execute? How do you go about making such a decision. Do you apply logic or reason when all that matters is the heart? I do not know. As I lie awake I try and imagine the almost apocalyptic scenario I will need to write. Logic says ‘close the creche’, most of children come from a slum where we do not have any primary programme and thus ‘lose’ the kids after the 2 or 3 years they spend with us. Easily said. But the moment I visualise this option I see all the little faces and huge eyes that greet me every morning with a smile that warms the cockles of my heart and makes all problems vanish. The smiles mutate into incomprehension and then hurt and I break up in a cold sweat. Logic says ‘close the special section; it is the least cost effective’. Easily said again. But the moment I allow myself to wander that way Manu’s gentle face appears in front of me and I am reminded of the silent promise to him and his ilk. Wasn’t I the one who pledged a life and death with dignity to those rejected by all.

The tussle between logic and heart goes on relentlessly. Logic says ‘cut the project in half’, the heart retorts which children and teachers will you sacrifice. Whose dreams will you fulfill? Whose job will you save? The questions are merciless, unending and terrifying.

Morning always dawns after such nights. Reality bites again. The situation remains unchanged. The missing numbers loom large. How will we get through this month, and the next and the next. Something will have to be done, sooner than later unless a miracle comes our way. But will it?

No, I am not OK!

cheers @ 1.25 lacs!

cheers @ 1.25 lacs!

Two unrelated incidents occurred yesterday. They were in no way linked but somehow painted a graphic image of India. The first was the trials and tribulations of the week end of a dear friend in the heart of Uttar Pradesh. The second an article I stumbled upon aptly titled: Rs. 1.25 lakh for a small peg of cognac at Delhi hotel. True these were not sold every day but we were promptly informed that a champagne bottle priced at Rs 1. 75 lacs was quite popular with our guests and sells pretty well.
But let us take them one at a time. Last week a friend volunteering with us told me that she was planning to visit Mathura with the family of one of the student she was teaching as they belonged to Mathura and had offered to be her guide. I was a little concerned as my friend is in her seventies but did not say anything as she was really excited and keen to go. The experience she said was one of a kind as she visited the sights on a motorbike! But what truly disturbed her was the squalor of the places she went to and the abject poverty around her. A far cry from the Delhi of malls and starred hotels just three hours away. She told me that the slums of the city were luxurious if compared to what she had seen.
Was it then synchronicity that I should come across the article just a few moments before hearing about the famed week end. I remember jumping out of my skin some years back when I heard of a bottle of champagne being sold at the galling price of 50K! Well prices had gone up. If daily articles cost more then spirits had to follow I guess. So a peg at 1.25 lacs should not make us jump. Welcome to India the land of the uber rich and the abjectly poor. The land where some gorge themselves whilst others starve. Yet another tale of two Indias!
True you cannot and should not grudge anyone for their success, their riches, their prosperity. But can you turn your eyes away from the terrible pictures of children dying or the chilling statistics on malnutrition. Can you keep mute when you come across a child begging? Can you simply pass the abysmal living facilities that dot our city unmoved? I guess you can as most of us do with our myopic view of life contained within the four walls of our existence. How many of us would like my friend visit a place with someone who we considered ‘lower’? My friend did and what she saw was first hand: people living in cramped spaces with doorless bathrooms, where words like privacy have no meaning at all, where in a few square feet the old and the young eat, sleep, pray, cook, laugh, cry, fight, love and live or should one say survive. How many of us would share this space albeit for one night as my friend did and not be critical or horrified but humbled. How would you like to live in towns and shanties everyone has forgotten with no civic amenities where garbage and refuse lie everywhere and walking becomes an obstacle race? Yet many do, without grudging or complaining, forsaken by all.
Forgive my ranting but when I stumble upon a peg @ of 1.25 lacs my blood runs cold. There is something obscene and revolting about the image of someone sipping in a few minutes what another would never dream of in a lifetime. But that is the way we are. When will this country awake!
who will light a candle for the 5013 children

who will light a candle for the 5013 children

Last week a real estate tycoon threw a birthday bash. It took place in a palace in the middle of a lake where special duck shaped boats floated on the lake providing a novel dancing floor. The tout India was there: a true reunion of the uber rich and famous. And to crown it all the waka waka girl was flown in a special plane to entertain the guests. It was some show!

As the rich feasted danced and caroused, children died without a murmur . It is estimated that 5013 children die each day in India of malnutrition! India has the dubious distinction of having more than a third of the world’s child mortality. Should we not hang our heads in shame! I do. Yet the haves keep on celebrating. Children die while food grain rots. Children die while some gorge and waste. This is nothing short of unacceptable.

What is infuriating is that many sound programmes have been set up to deal with the situation but you guessed right they have been hijacked on the way and money siphoned to greedy pockets. The best example is the famed ICDS (Integrated Child Development Scheme) aimed at children below 5 and that would have ensured, if it had run as planned, that all Indians below the age of 35 were well nourished and inoculated. The reality is that almost 5o% of our children are suffer from malnutrition.

Last week one of our staff members was asked to visit a slum by local dwellers. The reason: they wanted us to open a primary outreach in their slum cluster. She was taken to the local anganwadi (creche) run under the (ill)famed ICDS programme. The so called creche was housed in a dark, airless, damp hole as I refused to call it room. There were a handful of toddlers sitting on the floor and a so called creche worker busy on the phone. There were no weighing machines, no toys or books, no pencils or crayons, no visible food supplements or at least plates and cups that would prove nutrition was given. The children were meant to sit and do nothing. This was how the ICDS programme was translated into reality. This was in the heart of the capital, a stone’s throw away from a swanky 5 star hotel! This was the place meant to monitor a child’s growth and development and take remedial measures. Frankly the child would be better running the in slum lanes. At least s/he would be in the sunlight and get some vitamin D! No wonder children die if programmes meant to protect them run like this.

5000 children die everyday and we remain silent. A statistic like this one should, if we had a conscience, make us take to the streets just as we did when one man gave his stop corruption call. It is true that in a convoluted way corruption encompasses the proper running of schemes but I am ready to bet my last rupee that none of US ever thought that we were taking to the streets or to our preferred social media to espouse the cause of dying children. We were there because we were fed up of the corruption that affected us. Civil society as it is called is made up of educated and aware people. Is it not their duty to raise its voice all all aberrations one encounters: children dying, children begging, children working in your neighbour’s house. But we are selfish and self centered and the dying children are not part of our minute horizon. So children keep on dying as we keep on living our myopic and pathetic existence. We pretend to be aware of things, well read and informed but will at best pontificate from the comfort of our homes or at cocktail parties with words that remain useless. If one of ours dies in suspect conditions we take to the streets, light candles, write articles and ensure that justice is restored. But the child that dies because of our apathy and indifference does not even affect us. We carry on the party while a child passes away every 18 seconds.

These 5013 are also our children. They have the same rights our children have. Their only sin is to have been born on the wrong side of the fence. Someone needs to take the cudgels on their behalf. Someone like us but will we?

Bye bye kitchen

Bye bye kitchen

Agastya my darling grandson finally left yesterday after 3 glorious months. A deafening silence pervades the house. It is almost eerie. Gone are the pattering of little feet and the giggles. Gone is the delightful prattle that got us all mesmerised. His last words were enchanthing. When asked by his mom to say bye to the staff in the kitchen Agastya set off on a mission to bid farewell. After saying a bye bye kitchen, he ran out and started a litany of byes: bye bye house, garden, bicycle, flowers, grandpas’ office and so on. He was so excited that he forgot bye bye nani! I did not say anything as I was busy fighting my tears.

The past months were a whirlwind. Every things was centered around this two and a half years bundle of joy. Our sleep time, waking time, eating time and above all playing time were orchestrated by the exacting yet adorable ring master. I was reminded of a quote by Sam Leveson: “The simplest toy, one which even the youngest child can operate, is called a grandparent“, a role I gladly played. At times I was on my fours playing with toy cars. But the preferred game was his version of Simple Simon: he led and we followed. Up, down, on your knees, touch the floor, wave your hands, roll them, hop, skip, jump. There was no respite as you followed the little man who got cross if you dared sit down. Forgotten where the creaky knees, or the hurting back. You just became a child and the special God children pray to ensured that the batteries of the toy were always charged and the pain on hold. All you skills often forgotten were tested: running, drawing, painting, singing. Even if you had never done it before you were commanded to draw a car and boy you did and even if it looked like nothing on earth it still brought a huge smile on the loved face.

There were special treats: a visit to the local the park, a day at Utpal’s school, a trip to the rides at the Kalka Temple and above all trips to the toy shop. Each was laced with oodles of fun and merriment that warmed the cockles of my old heart. Then there were the goodies: the hugs and kisses lavishly dealt out when he was in a good mood. They were heavenly and had the mysterious capacity to make you forget all your worries and woes. Life stood standstill and perfect. Time raced at the speed of light, each day melting into another without respite. One was so taken in by the magic that one forgot that this special time was limited and the day would dawn when the little one would fly away and leave you with your aches and pain and a bleeding heart.

Today time hangs heavy. The stairs that one ran up and down behind a little elf now look daunting as one climbs then slowly a step and a moan at a time. All the pains and worries put on hold loom larger than ever. The house is still replete with the toys, cars and clothes of the little one. Slowly they will be put or given away and the house will again regain its adult look. The pedal cars, scooty, and bicycles that the little fellow parked so painstakingly next to his granddad’s one before he left will soon be removed. How I will miss them. I remember how vehemently I had reacted some years back when little Utpal had left for boarding school and someone decided to put his bright yellow pedal car aptly christened ‘yellow submarine’ away. I wanted it left there, for me to see everyday. This time I did not murmur a sound when the neatly parked toy vehicles were put away. They would adorn the drive again when Agy came back.

I will slowly pick up the scattered threads of my life as it was before the bundle of life and energy landed upon us. The aches and pain will reclaim their lost place. Problems and fears will also once again take centre stage. The laughter and giggles will soon give way to frowns and worry lines. The sleepless nights that had vanished will reappear with a vengeance. New games will have to be conjured to fill empty time. I will have to learn to live on two time zones to catch a glimpse of the beloved face on a screen. Bless technology. Yes an old woman to have to live again till her little buddy comes back and makes her feel again.

Bye Bye little one. God bless you!

another day in paradise

another day in paradise

Got up this morning to some shattering news. A donor we had counted on to carry on our work has rescinded on his promise. This meant we were in deep trouble. In normal circumstances I would have been completely devastated were it not for the fact that I was on a high: you see yesterday was PTM day and I had been injected with my dose of my preferred stimulant:the smiles and hugs of my eight little Angels. That also meant that their dreams and morrows took centre stage and thus the option of dejection and depression was a no no!

Sunday was a perfect day, a lovely blue sky, a warm sun and the feel of winter in the air. We reached the school early and as it was also result day we headed towards the classes of our proteges. But as we reached the first floor we were greeted by a smart class XI student who requested us to first visit their science project.Needless to say we did and spent time looking at the models and listening to the young voices as they talked about their creations. The models were innovative and interesting and it was a special moment. Then it was time to make our way to each class for the anticipated result. I was a little anxious as any parent would be. Took me back many years when I use to do the same for my girl. But all anxiety was in vain as I got glowing reports in each and every class. Our kids had once again excelled. What a proud moment it was. I signed all the report cards with delight.

Our serious task completed it was time to have fun. We sat in the grounds and all the children came and shared their stories. There were many, each one special and blessed. It was really rewarding to see these very special children happy and brimming with self confidence. A far cry from the day they first entered the school. Even little Manisha had her tales to recount. Then an excited voice told me that the tuck shop was open. All eight kids charged to the shop and had their fill of frooties, chocolates and biscuits. Agastya my grandson who never misses a PTM when he is in town as Utpal Bhaiya is his special pal was having a great time running all over the place and playing with the kids and of course eating all the goodies usually not on his menu! We basked in the balmy mood as long as we could but the clock was ticking too fast and it was time to leave. So goodbyes were said and Agatya gave Utpal a special hug. Did they both know they would not be meeting for some time?

The ride back home was quiet as usual as one was lost in thoughts. The question up most on my mind was undoubtedly: Will I be able to fulfill the fragile dreams of these wonderful kids?

www.flickr.com


walk the talk

walk the talk

I entered the world of disability quite by accident. In hindsight it seems it was preordained. My first encounter with the Giri Nagar slums was for purely personal reasons. I had gone to meet Mataji, a healer, with the hope that she would cure me of the depression I had allowed myself to seek in post the demise of both my parents. She did much more than that. She was a true changemaker. But that is another story waiting to be told.

I often spent long moments sitting on the step of Mataji’s home watching the world go by, a world I felt strangely comfortable in. Perhaps it was because it was so very different to mine. Anyway it is while sitting on the doorstep which was on the street that I first saw Manu and got my first exposure to the plight of one who is disabled. Manu touched a deep chord in me and stirred emotions that I find hard to describe. Let us simply say that even today when I think of that instant I am covered in goosebumps. At first I just watched too frightened to ask any question. But then mustered the courage to hear a story that was heart wrenching. I do not know how it happened but I heard myself making a silent promise to myself, one that no one heard but me: One day you will have a home Manu.

The journey had begun. It took years to build the home pledged. And a very circuitous route with many milestones: a spoken English class, a day care for special kids – you see Manu had to have his set of pals – after school support, early education and so on. Till one day we had enough strength to open our residential facility for special people. Manu had his home. It is there that he spent the last days of his life and passed away gently leaving me completely lost. It is then that I realised how much Manu had given me and what an special soul he was. If not for him project why would not have seen the light of day. He proved beyond doubt that NO life is futile and worthless.

Over the years I have pontificated about the plight of special children and adults, about how tenuous their morrows are, about how insecure their life became once they lose their parents, about how little society has done for them, about how much they need to be accepted and loved. And it was for them that Planet Why was conceived. You can understand my dejection as I slowly begin to grasp the fact that Planet Why may never see the light of day and my special children may have to face indignity and disrespect.

All these sombre thoughts have been running in my head as I slowly watch the quietus of planet why and I wonder whether I truly gave it my best. Had I pushed the project adequately? Had I put my heart and soul into it? Was I paying for my new found reclusion that resulted in my isolation from the rich and famous? Should I have shed my disdain for page 3 soirees and slipped into my my high heels more often? How I regret not knowing those who have money. I know that I could convince them were I able to cross their threshold. But what is the point of lamenting now when it is too late. Or is it?

A few weeks back I lost a close one. Strangely this demise came with a rider. It is was not one that could be dealt with an adequate amount of tears and eulogies. This untimely death came with a deafening question: can you walk the talk! Let me elucidate. The one who left us also left a younger sister. She is challenged though no one ever accepted that reality. She lived all her life in a golden cage, jealously protected by those who loved her. No one was willing, as is often the case, to accept that she was special and thus needed special care. All her life she had been made to believe that she was like all others and kept away from the world, as her close ones built one for her within the confines of four walls and peopled by a handful only. Everything in her life was controlled and managed. She had no say whatsoever and the ones who ran her life had no knowledge whatsoever of the needs of a special person. We too never intervened as one would not have been heard and sometimes it is easier to let things be. But the God of Lesser beings had another plan. He took away her close ones in a short span of time leaving her alone but strangely also free. The question was would anyone help her enjoy her freedom.

One could have left her with what remained of her family and done the bare minimum: a few visits, a small gift thrown in, some hugs and comforting words not really meant. But as I said it was time to walk the talk, to remember the spiel on dignity and respect, on care and love. It was time to act and let the long imprisoned soul free. So barely a few days after the departed had been laid to rest I decided to get her out of her walls and into the big world. She would come to project why and be part of our special class. I must admit a little sheepishly that I was a tad apprehensive at first. How would she react? How would the others react? Would she like it? What can I say: she took to the project like a fish to water. She was all smiles and everyone took to this new aunt, for want of a better word. For the first in her life of almost half a century she had something that was really hers: a place to go to every day, friends to interact with, dance it, share a meal with and above all laugh with. I cannot describe how humbled I feel and how overwhelmed.

Was it time to make a last ditch effort for planet why!