I talk too much and mostly about project why. This is the buzz doing the rounds. I guess it is a valid one.
Mea culpa, mea culpa, mea maxima culpa!
Yet, I guess my grey hair and my over half a century on this earth give me the right to explain the reasons for what may seem, a rude or even infuriating behaviour. I guess talking too much finds its roots way back: an only child with middle aged parents and a nomadic life where time was short and connections had to be made rapidly. It goes back to growing up with adults rather than kids your age. It goes back to a thirst for knowledge, a passion for books and a questioning mind. But none of the above can justify or condone poor behavior!
I beg your indulgence and urge you to read on. Project Why is undoubtedly the best thing that happened in my life. That it came about in my twilight years was something beyond my control. I often refer to pwhy as my magnum opus and my swan song!
As one grows old, time seems to gain momentum and move at accelerated speed. Before you realise it a day, a month , a year has gone by making you feel vulnerable and a tad helpless. You want to pack as much as you can and forget that others, younger than you cannot view things your way. I guess it is a befitting example of Bergson’s concept of time.
Pwhy is still in its infancy. It needs to find its own wings. Time is of the essence and for me time is short. I guess that is why I find myself thinking, dreaming, contemplating and yes talking pwhy all the time. In my haste to see it soar, I seem to forget that for others it is just one of many.
As you get on in life you become painfully aware of the fact that any moment lost will never come again so you cling to it with desperation. That is what I am guilty of I admit. But I try to assuage my guilt by remembering that what I do is not to fulfill some selfish goal or ambition but to ensure that children continue to laugh and deprived souls get their place in the sun.
I did say project why was my swan song and being but human, one wants to take that last bow with a feeling of success. The problem is that at this moment the choreography still needs its last touches, its final rehearsals and its opening night. The obsessive blabber is probably just that: my way of finding the missing links, ones that are not obvious but may spring out surreptitiously at some furtive moment, when one’s mind get spurred into action by a word.
Yes time is short and much remains to be done. And yes I do talk too much and about project why!
It is time to look ahead … easier said than done particularly at a time when our vision has been clouded by recent events, and our dreams obscured by the weight of unforeseen worries. I am reminded of the words of Florence Scovel Shinn: Every great work, every big accomplishment, has been brought into manifestation through holding to the vision, and often just before the big achievement, comes apparent failure and discouragement.
It is imperative and essential that we at project why hold on to our vision even if at this particular moment in time things, to say the least, look bleak. It would be easy to throw up our hands and be satisfied to muddle on as best we can. I presume this would be an acceptable option if all we were thinking of was just our limited selves. But that is not the case. Any failing on our part will jeopardize too many dreams.
It is time to look ahead.
We are faced with the daunting task of ensuring that our day-to-day work goes on unhindered and at the same time garner resources for our new dream. In other words we need to raise a substantial or rather astronomical amount of funds and our track record is to say the least rather pitiful. True we are a good hand-to-mouth organisation and have always met our needs thanks to great friends and well wishers. However this will not do to meet what lies ahead.
The past few days have been spent brainstorming. The challenge: find new ways of fund raising, ways that would go beyond crisis management and would not depend on one individual. Ideas are being debated passionately and we await the results with bated breath.
I decided to take a trip down memory lane and review our past efforts, as to many, we may look like an organisation that never pondered on the issue of long time funding. I had almost forgotten our cloth bags, our chocolates, our soap, our jewels and all else, all sacrificed to a variety of alters. I had even forgotten the passion with which I had tried, sadly in vain, to push my one rupee-a-day-dream, one that sat on our site for along time but found few takers. I remember how elated I felt when after receiving an award, I had hoped that this may perhaps bring the dream closer, but soon realised that people had moved on to greener pastures. And yet how could one give up. New ways had to be found, new battles won. We had to become sustainable. And slowly planet why was conceived as perhaps the way to solve an issue that had been disturbing us for a long time….
The trip down memory lane was an eye opener. We are still faced with the challenge of ensuring that project why lives on. That is it is freed from the shackles of being dependent on one or a set of individuals. The one rupee option is one side of the coin, planet why the other.
I was recently given John Wood’s book that outlines the long term vision of Room to Read. I pondered over it a long tome after turning the last page. Would it be possible for us to come up with a similar funding pattern. Sadly no! Unlike RtR we do not have tangible options that can be replicated by quantum leaps. Buildings that can bear names. And though we are in a land that boasts of perhaps one of the largest number of rich people, we are still in our infancy when it comes to parting with a few pennies for a less fortunate soul. My mind goes back to the day or rather night when we needed money for one of our broken hearts. I was at a party hosted by a ‘friend’ and where most of the guests were ‘rich’. Still naive and unworldly, I interrupted the revelry and asked all present to part with whatever they had in their wallets to save this child. Needless to say no one came forward.
Yes we have been blessed by the number of kind hearted people the world over who have always come forward when we have sought their help and they are the ones who have made pwhy the vibrant and beautiful reality it is. But we also know that this funding model is fragile and would not withstand the test of time.
Looking ahead, what still stands in my mind as a possible way out is our planet why vision, no matter how battered it may look at this moment. It is one that can take care of our tiny yet critical responsibilities while allowing us to continue our work. It is one that can allow Manu and Champa to grow old with dignity and surrounded by love, one that can shelter any child or women in need. Our work in many ways remains intangible. No extra buildings to bear testimony of the coin received and yet for us it is invaluable.
I would be thrilled if someone could show me a way to the yet elusive but needed option to secure our morrows. I am still looking
Little Pooja’s demise has stirred up a host of questions, all seeking answers and most sadly finding none. Once again what perturbed me the most was the total absence of dignity in dealing with the mortal remains of a child particularly in a land where rituals seem to rule life’s every moment. Yet when it comes to a child, they become disturbingly absent.
Everyone has a right to live and die with dignity and yet dignity is something we are so reluctant to give to another as if the very act of giving required its share of arrogance.
Somerset Maugham said: It is not wealth one asks for, but just enough to preserve one’s dignity, to work unhampered, to be generous, frank and independent. Pooja’s death was a poignant reminder of the catch word we all seem to forget: dignity. I too find myself in the wrong. Was it not the total lack of dignity in Manu’s life that moved me enough to set up pwhy? And is it not dignity that is the real albeit intuitive motivation for planet why? When and why did dignity get sacrificed at the alter of sustainability and other supposedly more commercially viable notions? Another why that needs to be answered.
Little Pooja’s death brought back to life with deafening silence the real reason of planet why: a place where anyone can preserve his or her dignity be it a Manu or a Pooja.
I thought she would make it… but a few hours after I wrote this, she moved on and left this world. The doctors said she died of pneumonia and malnutrition. Come to think about it Pooja died starved of love. Her mother had abandoned her and her father had no time for her. She died because she intuitively knew that she was a burden to all.
Pooja tiptoed out of this world just like little Sandhya had, leaving many questions begging for answers. One again I guess, death was the kindest gift that the God of lesser children could have granted this unloved child. I wonder what would have been her life in a land where Goddesses are worshiped but little girls are not wanted.
We came to know later that the woman who had ‘adopted’ Pooja, was not quite the kind woman we thought she was. She sought such kids and then used them in different ways to earn her living. Pooja was lucky that our centre was close to were she lived as she could for a few hours just be a child. I shudder to think what would have awaited her in years to come.
Yet over the years I have leaned to look at life through a wider angle. Had the woman not come into Pooja’s life her fate would have been worse. She may have helped her father who panhandles for a living and then fritters his earnings on hooch, drugs or women, or she would have landed in some state run institution where life is dark and abysmal. Pooja could never have aspired to what life normally has in store for girls born on the other side of a fence: a loveless marriage and early motherhood laced with the acceptability that comes from wedlock. At best she may have been sold into a life of abuse. At least for some time she was cared for, just like the proverbial goat being readied for slaughter.
Pooja has left many questions that need answers and yet have none. Her death has brought to the fore the total helplessness that one feels in the wake of such tragedy and makes one wonder what one could have done or could do. Barring the few hours we can give a child in despair, we have little to offer. And yet at times like this one knows that something has to be done.
It is at time like these that the need to set up planet why seems urgent. If it did exist than may Poojas could have found a shelter and protection. If it did exist than maybe we would be able to open our eyes and hearts wider and reach out to those no one wants.
“Life is made up, not of great sacrifices or duties, but of little things, in which smiles, and kindnesses, and small obligations, given habitually, are what win and preserve the heart and secure comfort” Humphrey Davy
The hectic and almost manic activity that seemed to have pervaded pwhy in the past weeks, may have led some to believe that we had lost sight of who and what we really are. Our normally placid ways were hijacked, albeit for a moment, by a dream that seemed within reach. Yet life went on a pwhy as it always does and nothing had really changed. Our heart was still in the right place and our eyes wide open.
Little Pooja who at this moment is battling for life in a hospital is one of our students at Okhla. She was just one of many: a happy child that came to class with touching regularity. A few days back she fell sick. Her mother took her to the local doctor but to no avail. She went from bad to worse.
Pooja’s mom is not her real mother. She was abandoned by her birth mother who wanted to make her life with another man. Her natural father is an addict gambler and womaniser. A rag picker woman gave her shelter and ‘adopted’ her but her extreme poverty comes in the way of her heart of gold. We took Pooja to the hospital where we were told hat she needed to be transfused. Two of our teachers promptly offered to donate blood. As I write these words, Pooja is fighting to live, surrounded by new friends and well wishers.
One cannot but wonder what lies in store for littlePooja. The plight of the girl child in this land is know to all. Where they given the choice, would little girls accept to come into this world? It is bad enough to be a girl but one that is deprived of the protection of a real family and condemned to poverty the future has little to offer. Pooja may come out of this ordeal, but may others await her.
Many have been critical of the approach we have adopted at pwhy as it does defeat logic. yet if we were to start all over, I know we would do it in exactly the same way. We may not have answers to all the problems that plague our society but we are not in the business of changing the world. We simply try to the best of our ability to solve the ones that come our way.
When a few days back I sent out myriad of emails in all directions seeking help to salvage a dream that was threatening to melt away into oblivion I was overwhelmed with the words of support and encouragement I received. Among them was a poem of which I quote a few lines:
When the night is out In full force And darkness Penetrates me to the source When the mind is about to yield To the fears of the flesh When the storm rises up From the gut And uneasy beats the heart
I try to stand up I try to spin a new yarn Try to survive the moment And vow to the bitter end – I will make the river bend I will make the mountain stoop I will cover the sky with imagination And uncover the face of You.From Soul Search Engine Al Raines
The words gave me great solace and the courage to survive the moment and not give up. Days passed. Deals were renegotiated. Time was bought. We had barely 6o days to save our dream. Another desperate mail was sent once again.
How I wish I had 20/30 or the whole 80 lacs said one of the answers and I was moved to tears. I could not imagine what was to ensue. A day or two later another mail from my dear friend Abhigyan simply said Let’s make a mailer on the book offer and send it out all our contacts. explaining your cause and also the offer.
Before I go further let me explain: Abhigyan wears many hats, and one of them is that of a publisher who recently launched his very own publishing house aptly named Undercover Utopia. Before I could catch my breath again another mail confirmed that the show was on the road,. Undecover Utopia had decided to save our dream by offering all the 4 books of their collection at half price and donating half of that to save pwhy’s dream.
Words are inadequate to express what I feel. I believe that the only way to salute this beautiful gesture is to ensure it meets with complete success, not so much for the dream fulfilled, but because it is an expression of all that is good in our world, something we see so little of!
I could not end this post without mentioning the books on offer. I have read and enjoyed them all. However one of them – Soul Search Engine – has stirred my soul. Read it, it is unique and everyone’s story and perhaps throws some insight into why there are some who dare walk the road less travelled.
Soul Search Engine ends with these words: “Creation is a manifestation of the one’s many ideas… every idea one step away from being alone… The meaning is for us to discover. Creation is only a stimulus. All we have to do is respond. And respond well. Everything is a great question waiting for a great answer.” Al Raines (Soul Search Engine).
Was it just a month ago that we at pwhy were all set to launch a new project. A very ambitious one I must confess and one that was not quite our own I must also admit. It all began with an idea suggested by an erstwhile well wisher, one that was so daunting that we quickly suggested a trial version as we were a little apprehensive.
What ensued was rather peculiar. As we began giving life to this idea, our resolve strengthened whereas the commitment of its initiator began to wane rapidly. I presume this happened because we were looking at different ends of the same issue.
The once intimidating thought of giving deprived children a go at the best education possible looked eminently doable. The enthusiasm of both parents and children gave the encouragement we needed to surmount whatever obstacles came our way. Necessary course corrections were made and our minds wide open to new ones if need be. That was the view from one side
From the other side things looked different. What had seemed as a win-win situation, a panacea for all ills, a great way to change society when conceived in thought started losing its shine as it was shared with others in a attempt to secure the much needed financial support for such a programme. As numbers were stated, doubts started emerging: how could one envisage spending so much for a poor kid!
The tune seemed too familiar and the conclusion foregone, the idea once held as path breaking was now found preposterous, one that needed to be quickly dropped. The fears recently voiced raised their head again bringing to the fore the invisible yet impregnable line that divides our society.
One could have comfortably slunk back into earlier days and carried on as if nothing had occurred but that would have been perfidious as one cannot put back the clock. How can one take away the hope one so patiently instilled in parents; how does one wish away the sparkle that one sees in the eyes of the children when one talks about the new project, one just has to begin.. again!
As I downloaded the day’s pictures I came across this one. It is our own little Kiran having lunch at pwhy on one of her rare days off from school. Kiran is special to us as she was born just when pwhy began. She grew with us and became an integral part of our lives.
She is an exceptional child in more ways than one and has often delighted us with her own brand of logic: bet it her own type of English or her little pearls of wisdom.
Kiran spent the first years of her life either being carried around practically where ever I went, or as she grew older in the special section which she somehow preferred to the creche! Slowly but surely an incredible bond was created between this little girl and the kids in the special section notwithstanding their age. Kiran is now in school but her ties with her pals have gone stronger. She spends all her off days and holidays with them and often turns teacher for the day!
Kiran goes to an upmarket school now as her humble family feels that it will open new doors for her. She is slowly learning about the unfortunate divides that exist in our society and expresses them in her own candid ways, and deals with them with a little help from us. But Kiran has never felt the need to alienate one life for the other. She is equally at easy with the kids in her street as she is with her school pals and finds time for her buddies too. She flits comfortably from loud Hindi slang, to barely audible English to sign language when communicating with her hearing impaired friends.
The above post is my answer to a doubt recently voiced about the wisdom of a new project we have launched at the behest of a well wisher. Sadly these apprehensions stem out from the attitude of potential donors, something I had foreseen and expressed at a time when things were still being debated. Helping children break social barriers is anathema to many. What is pitiful is that no one will accept this reality. The blame will be squarely put on the tiny shoulders of the potential beneficiary with supercilious ease.
I am not endowed with the gift of divination and cannot see into the future. Yet I am reasonably certain that Kiran and any other child who is given a chance, will be an asset and not a liability to society. It is also true that all children given the same chance may not turn out to be exceptional. Unless we give a reasonable chance to this project, we will never know what truly happens.
New ideas, specially those that rock the boat never find takers. Yet they are the ones that bring about the change we all want to see and somehow once again in the life of pwhy we find ourselves faced with a new challenge we know we have to take on with courage and determination.
Dear to us are those who love us. . . but dearer are those who reject us as unworthy, for they add another life; they build a heaven before us whereof we had not dreamed, and thereby supply to us new powers out of the recesses of the spirit . . .
Ralph Waldo Emerson
These words reverberated in my mind this morning. Wonder why? Perhaps because the last week has been one of rejections. If you look for the word reject in the dictionary you come across this definition: dismiss as inadequate, inappropriate or not to one’s taste.
It is easy to reject and people do it with ease. Special kids are not a worthy cause to defend, a carefully crafted dream is not to one’s taste; ten years of a labour of love are inappropriate in a world where everything is coloured in dividends and returns; dreams and aspirations are inadequate as they remain intangible in our materialistic times. Today what is sought are quick and visible results.
I concede to the fact that in the world we have nurtured for almost a decade now, things take time and may seem elusive at first. A child who can barely hold her head at 5 needs years to walk her first step; one who cannot hear or speak has to muster strength from unknown depths to mouth her first intelligible sound; and the being rejected and scorned for years needs time to trust another again. But when they do walk, speak or trust it is nothing short of a miracle, one that was worth waiting for.
It is also true that the ones we fondly call our
special kids, often do not make a pretty picture. It is also true that no matter how much or how well they learn they will never be able to compete with their peers who are aid to be normal. True again that they are not a wise or sound investment. We simply cast them aside with a string of harsh or politically correct names: disabled, handicapped, challenged, differently abled.
If you have ever set your doubts and apprehensions aside and cared to enter the world of these wonderful beings, you will soon see that the above attributes better describe us than them. They accept you with open hearts and huge smiles and without any judgment. They open their world to you without restrain. They are grateful fro whatever you give them and expect no more. But that is not all. They have a secret mission, one that maybe even they are not aware of: they compel you to look at yourself with honesty and courage. The moment you have dared to look into their eyes be prepared for a journey to the depth of your soul.
As a friend once told me, special kids are Angels sent to earth to show us what we truly are capable of. So blessed are the ones who are given the opportunity to care for such souls. They give us the courage to walk that extra mile, grit to carry on in the face of all adversities till we reach our goal and realise our dreams.
So as the rejections come our way, we need to see them as a boon and be grateful to those who cast them as they alone will give us the impetus needed to defend the causes we hold dear to us and build dreams no matter how impossible they seem.
Yes dear to us are those who love us. . . but dearer are those who reject us as unworthy,
A mail dropped by. It was from a dear friend, one of the few who look with their hearts and walk that extra mile for to save dreams, particularly those conjured by others. At this moment of time he is busy saving mine. A dream that began almost a decade ago with a chance encounter between a middle aged woman and a street beggar.
The plight of that young soul confined in a useless body and a fractured mind pilloried by all perturbed the woman for many nights. Somehow she knew that she had to do something, something larger than throwing a few coins his way. And thus the dream began. The dream of giving Manu a life!
Henry Thoreau said: If you build castles in the air, your work need not be lost; that is where they should be. Now put the foundations under them. Yes, thinking of giving Manu a life, one where he could have a warm bed to sleep in and friends to laugh with and share a meal with was indeed a chimera.
My mind goes back to the first meal shared with Manu. He was still encrusted with years of dirt and abuse. We had given him a plate of dal and some rotis . He sat on a stool eating them quietly. A while later he looked up and smiled at me and offered me a piece of roti dipped in dal. I sat next him and ate. Maybe that was when the foundation was laid.
Years have passed. Manu has friends and spends the day at pwhy. He even goes to birthday parties where he shares a treat with his pals The foundation has got stronger. But Manu still does not have a bed to sleep in and a place to call his own. The foundation is still not finished. The dream will be truly fulfilled with planet why.
You can share some of the moments of the birthday party here
How I wish I had 10/20 lakhs to spare if not the whole 80! These heartwarming words dropped into my mailbox shortly after my appeal for help. They may seem anodyne to some, empty to others, and to yet others as futile as the famed if wishes were horses.. But to me these simple words are the expression of the immense love and unstinted trust that have come our way since the day we took our first hesitant step on the journey called project why and has made our every wish a reality.
Our steps grew bolder, our dreams larger and each one was backed by a wonderful network of people who saw with their hearts and never turned their back on us. Hearts were mended, hopes fulfilled and new ones crafted, and challenges accepted with new found conviction as there was always someone out there who came forward and embraced them with us.
And along the way came the ultimate dream: planet why, one that would make us come full circle and above all provide a befitting finale to my swan song. It was a dream I started sharing with all those who had made pwhy possible, hesitantly at first but as days went by with more confidence and even temerity.
Today the dream seems a reality within our reach. True that some minor hiccups came our way, but none big enough to make us stop, let alone lose faith. Once again I have been overwhelmed by the spontaneous offers of help that have come our way. True that they may seem small or even insignificant when viewed against the target we have to meet but that is only if you look at them with your eyes. When you look with your heart, each one of them is priceless.
Some have offered whatever they could spare, others have proffered words of support and encouragement that infuse us with the strength to go on. A publisher friend offered us a 50% of sale profits of books sold to pwhy supporters and donors. Many have donned their thinking caps and are brainstorming about ways to raise money. Across the world, a bevy of project why supporters are at work to make planet why come true.
The baffling judgement pronounced by a local court yesterday reinforced once again the vulnerability of children in India. A little girl allegedly raped by her own father was sent back to live with him as the man was acquitted because the key witnesses (her mother and sister) turned hostile.
At the time of the rape she was 4, today she is 7. I cannot begin to think what goes on in her tiny mind and am at a loss to picture the consequences that this will have on her tomorrows. This tender soul has been raped not only by her father but by all those she could trust, her mother, her sister and above all the entire system ostensibly created to protect her: society with all its trimmings: police, legal system and what not.
What is galling and frightening are the words pronounced by the judge: The acquittal in thiscase is painful as a blossoming child is alleged to have been ravished by her own father. But unfortunately her mother and sister turned hostile. But what is disturbing apart from the acquittal is the fact that the victim may have to live under the same roof and in the same hands of the accused.
Is justice blind to this point?
Even if one was to play Devil’s Advocate there is not much one could proffer. The mother was vulnerable in a society that is ruthless to one who dares go against her husband. The sister had no option but say what she was told to. The mother alone could not have brought up the children alone. The judge had to go by the book and so on.
And in all this the little child was forgotten and had no one to stand by her and protect her. My mind goes back to one of our students who had been raped by a neighbour when she was 4. The man was caught, did a stint in jail and came out an resumed his life. The girl grew up and became a teenager but her past followed her: she was branded a bad girl and no one talked or played with her as she had once had been raped, never mind if she was barely 4 at the time.
My heart goes out to this little child whose childhood has been ravished and who stands helpless and alone.
It is with the spirit of the soldiers of the Light Brigade that we have set out to raise the funds needed to secure the piece of land that came our way almost by miracle. When we began this daunting task we were needless to say petrified. This was way out of league. But two days later we find ourselves armed with newfound confidence as the 10 lacs needed to buy us two months of reprieve landed our way not as a loan, but as a donation from two wonderful souls that have always been there for us.
We now need to raise the remaining money. Easier said than done. But one look at the kids in the picture is enough to fuel us with determination and courage. To many the picture may seem innocuous, just a bunch of kids enjoying a picnic. Let me unravel the reality that lies behind. Most of these children are what is in our day and age called differently abled. Preeti who sits on the table walks on her hands, Sapna sitting in front is 12 though she looks 5. Champa whose smile is larger than life was abused, Ruchi will soon be unable to walk as she suffers from a debilitating neurological syndrome.. the list is endless each child in this picture has a future in jeopardy, held by a tenuous link: the life span of a mother. Oops I forgot there are two little girls in the picture who are wat one says in common parlance normal. Yashu who has been celebrating her birthdays for now five years with hers special pals, and Kiran who has known them since she was a baby.
Yesterday was Yashu’s birthday and our special kids had a day out at Dilli Hath. Like regular kids they played, blew candles, sang, ate cake and got return gifts. They too had bought their gift: beautiful cards they had made with love and care.
Most of these kids will grow up and one day become differently abled adults.. While differently abled kids are cute, adults are not. They become the butt of ridicule and are often derided and pilloried. It is a sad and harsh reality that often after the death of their parents, such children are rejected by heir won families. That is what happened to Manu who in spite of having a family was left to roam the streets and beg. Planet Why is for each one of them, as they grow old and lose all hope. It is to ensure that they live with dignity, surrounded by love and care and tended to till they move on.
We have 70 days to make this come true. Not much time but when one looks at these wonderful children one knows that we have to do it, come what may.
The last few days have been spent trying to comprehend what befell us. One day everything and more seemed going our way; the next we were struggling to hold on to a dream in peril. No matter which way one looked at it and how much one beat one’s self, it was impossible to find a reason that would explain, appease and lead us to accept the situation we found ourselves in and walk away.
We just took some time licking our wounds, regrouping and drawing new battle plans. We knew it was not time to recriminate neither was it time to accept defeat. We needed to review the situation and make the last ditch effort to salvage it.
The bottom line was that we found ourselves in a situation we had never faced in the past. A set of unforeseen circumstances had made the dream of owning a piece of land a reality, albeit a tenuous one. To make it happen we need to raise a whopping 70 lacs in two months. Our track record in raising funds is poor as we have always been a hand to mouth organisation. Our ability to meet our needs is best described as a constant struggle. Yet today we cannot give up and need to reinvent ourselves. Too much is at stake.
The piece of land holds the key to securing the dreams and hopes we have nurtured for almost a decade. What makes them precious is that they were not conjured by the ones who will benefit, but stars that we put into their eyes, thus making us responsible and answerable.
What lies ahead is our ability to secure a loan and then set about repaying it. A Case for Planet Why has been drafted and is being sent out to everyone we know. New ideas for funding are being mooted and discussed and will be executed. Should we not do so, then all past efforst would be in vain.
My mind goes back to the Charge of The Light Brigade
“Forward, the Light Brigade!” Was there a man dismay’d? Not tho’ the soldier knew Someone had blunder’d: Their’s not to make reply, Their’s not to reason why, Their’s but to do and die: Into the valley of Death Rode the six hundred. Alfred, Lord Tennyson 1854
All people dream, but not equally. Those who dream by night in the dusty recesses of their mind, Wake in the morning to find that it was vanity.
But the dreamers of the day are dangerous people, For they dream their dreams with open eyes, And make them come true.
D.H Lawrence
Planet why to many is just a dream. The almost jaded dream of a tiring old lady, a dream many went along with because they did not have the heart to break it or because they felt that it was just a dream and dream seldom become reality.
Yet in the words of Richard Bach: you are never given a dream without also being given the power to make it true. Planet Why is just that sort of dream, one conjured with open eyes, one that aimed at securing many others.
It remained a dream for a long time till one day it a breathtaking string of unforeseen events jolted it to the realm of the possible. The dream threw up challenges that to some looked more like obstacles. It was in jeopardy and before it could be further destroyed it seeped back in to the night waiting for another morn.
I know its is safe and will reemerge again when the time is right. In the meantime we have a project to run.
When I was a little girl and things looked bad, my papa used to talk about the big picture. It was his way of explaining to his hurting child that what seemed dark and gloomy at that moment was actually a tiny part of a big picture full of colour and light that we could not see. It was his way of explaining the mystery of life, the presence of a higher Being and the reason of the fleeting woe.
The little girl was satisfied and ran off with a smile on her face. The teenager was more difficult to assuage and did turn rebellious but ultimately had to concede to its wisdom, the woman found the solace she often needed. The big picture became a part of my life and I found myself often referring to it to explain situations that defied logic.
Yet when I was dealt with a blow recently I was momentarily taken aback and wallowed in despair, giving undue importance to what was just one tiny splash of dark hue on the harlequin picture that I conveniently had obliterated. My thoughts ran helter-skelter trying to reverse the situation forgetting that time moves but in one direction. For that moment in time I had forgotten all about the big picture.
But mercifully better set prevailed. I must have given my frenzied mind a tiny break as I found myself hearing my papa whisper “look at the big picture“. I had forgotten all about it in the moment I needed it the most. We often are guilty of not practicing what we so readily preach. I remember some years back when I was trying to battle local slumlords and wondering why we had been hit by such a storm, a friend simply reminded me that one should not bang one’s head on a close door but simply look for an open window. Yet one often realises that in spite of the all the wisdom one pretends to have, one easily forgets past lessons.
I am at a crossroad I stood at before. Sadly so lost was I in my hubris that I forgot to make a simple journey into past days to imbibe lessons once learnt and draw strength from the fact that we moved on and prospered as somewhere the big picture stood strong.
I know that in spite of the gloom that surrounds me and threatens to devour me, it is just part of a big picture I cannot see but know exists. The storm will blow, the clouds lift and the bigpicture will once again manifest itself in all its glory. One just has to hold on.
Anything that does not grow dies where the words almost whispered by S, as I sat helpless hearing the ominous words that were slowly but surely obliterating my carefully constructed dream of many moons. A dream that perhaps seeded when the little face on this picture had lost his smile or maybe the day I first heard Manu’s heart wrenching cries.
The dream at first was barely coherent but it lived for a long time in my heart, a disquieting reminder that something was missing in the work I was engaged in. An intangible prompting urging me to conjure the absent link that would complete the picture.With each passing day and ensuing task the dream was spurred on and started assuming substance and form and above all a name. I simply called it planet why and to me it was just a logical extension of project why. And though by force majeure it could not be located in close proximity to pwhy, it shared the same spirit and was fired with the same passion and motivation. If project why was a place where dreams were crafted , planet why was where they remained safe.
As I sat defenseless watching my dream dissolve, my mind set on a frantic flight seeking desperate answers: where had I gone wrong; what had I missed; why was this happening. A new why that had to be answered as in it lay the safety of all the answers we had sought till now. It had all seemed flawless, cogent… The assault of words carried on mercilessly barely giving me time to keep up. The place was too far, the staff was not willing, the idea had not been shared, people had not been heard… I listened in silence, holding on the tears that were threatening to fall as words the heart could not express.
It was then time for alternatives, suggestions, other possibilities..
I sat and heard them all, processing them to the best of my ability and attempting to see if they could replace the dream. Anything that does not grow dies and yet each option proffered excluded growth and though attractive in the present moment was doomed to die. Something needed to be done, the dream had to be saved, too much depended on it.
A day has gone by. I have tried to process all I heard. I must admit that much of what was said made sense when considered within the realm of today: the today that hues the reality we see: the choice of place does seem incongruous for a guest house we hope to fill to capacity. The distance seems alarming to anyone who simply walks to work. The list goes on: it is true that I bear the guilt of pushing my ideas and not giving time for people to react. It is also true that I often do not word things appropriately. Whatever the reasons and the past errors it is not time for recriminations but time to come together in solidarity as no matter how perfect a dream it cannot become reality without the conviction of all concerned.
However as one held guilty I think I do have the right to pen a defense. Planet Why came to be because one took a quantum leap into the future in more ways than one. I understand that there is a sense of comfort and reassurance in the present day scenario. Pwhy looks manageable and viable. Planet why was conceived for the day when the need may be felt for a larger place that one owns and where one can grow; the day when all are tired of seeking rented space or angry at seeing our special kids now adults not being welcome. Come that day land would be a chimera. Our rock pile was certainly what not I would have wanted had I got all the cards in my hand but was the only one that fitted our tight pockets and one that is poised for a sparkling make over. One can never chose the ideal situation and perhaps the end of a dream came because we do not have the ability to look at the future.
I also fully comprehend that no one would like to invest in a dream that looks very fragile and shaky at present and deprived of its sustainability element planet why loses its raison d’etre and looks like yet another liability. I more than anyone am loath to take on any more than we have. The task of meeting the present requirement is already weighing on my tiring shoulders so I should be the one to refuse any added burden. Then why am I finding it almost impossible to let the dream go? Why is it that just like on many occasions in the past when my team seemed reluctant to take on an new task, I feel compelled to soldier on. There is no urgency, no child hurting, no cause to defend and yet the drive is much the same.
I know no one wants to see pwhy die for want of combattants to use the famous quote from Corneille (Le Cid Act IV, Scene I) and yet unless we think of a doable alternative this may just happen. In my 9 years of begging I have seen that if there is nothing new on offer, sources dry out. One has to reinvent oneself all the time even if it means taking on a new responsibilities. Once again we are faced with the sustainability issue. And one again I am at a loss. And yet anything that does not grow dies
Some ideas were mooted but quite frankly each seemed daunting. One of them was that of ISR (Individual Social responsibility). I have been saddened by the total lack of heart I see and the total lack of compassion. I had placed great hopes in my one rupee a day dream hoping it would change attitudes. I was shocked at myself when as I sat redoing my website I wondered whether it still had a place in it. The ISR idea was welcome but then why did it seem jaded.
As I write these words I am at a loss to find answers and yet they need to be found as this is surely the most important why in our journey.
To many die hard project why supporters planet why is an aberration. I can understand their reaction as at first sight the two may seem totally incompatible. I beg their indulgence and beseech them to keep in mind that both emanate from the same source and have come in much the same way.
If project why saw the light of the day as a result of a chance encounter with Manu when a deafening loud why screamed for an answer that needed to be found, planet why was perhaps conceived more gently as a result of a string of quieter whys in no way less poignant.
Fate has played a curious role in my quest for answers to disturbing questions that have come my way in the bemusing journey called project why. It has set the course of this journey and steered it in directions that I could not have anticipated.
The vision of a man hobbling into my office with the help of a huge stick led us to create our heartfix hotel. At first this new venture of ours did seem to many yet another aberration. Such large sums of money to be spent on saving one child, a child whose future was uncertain, one that would just become one of the many millions barely surviving. Yet we did not give up and today over a dozen such children have had another go at life waiting for their destinies to unfold.
To some our decision of putting Utpal in a boarding school and helping his mom overcome a severe addiction and a debilitating psychological ailment was one more exorbitant deviation, but we again stood by what we believed to be right. To us it was simply a matter of finding the right answer to yet another why, a why that we never went seeking but that came our way as if guided by an invisible hand.
Hence slowly project why took a life of its own, one that often defied all logic, but one that I knew was the work of a far greater force. Time carried its inexorable course. Project why grew from why to why and with it the realisation of its extreme fragility and precarious nature that rested on the failing shoulders of an aging being bringing the inevitable question of its ability to fulfill all the responsibilities that laid upon it. What would become of the Manus that had come its way and of the hopes and dreams so tenderly nurtured.
Yet another answer needed to be found and it was planet why: a place where dreams would be secure. The journey seemed to be reaching its logical end. But fate once again, or the unseen hand, decided otherwise. The sheer magnitude of what was at stake was frightening and yet not accepting the challenge would have gone against everything we had stood for till then and negated the very spirit of project why.
To me project and planet why are intrinsically linked; the only difference being that the later has to have the ability of outlive me, and hence have foundations solid enough to weather any storm that may come its way.
I talk too much and mostly about project why. This is the buzz doing the rounds. I guess it is a valid one.
