by Anuradha Bakshi | May 26, 2008 | fostercare
A few days back we got the visit of the representative of a very up market page 3 organisation. This organisation funds various NGOs by organising high profile fund raising events. As we sat chatting in our new foster care building, the lady told me about a new venture of theirs whereby they are sponsoring school fees in up market schools for a handful of very underprivileged children. Actually what she was trying to convey indirectly was her disapproval of the amounts we were spending on the foster care residential programme.
While we were chatting, our children sat quietly finishing their lunch.
I tried to the best of my ability and with as much fervour and passion I could muster to explain to her that a child from a deprived or dysfunctional poor background would never be able to fit and be accepted in an up market English medium school. He or she would feel lost and would not be able to keep up what is required of him or her. Moreover ‘home’ or what goes by the name would not be able to provide him or her the support needed.
My mind went back to a blog where I had shared my feelings about the reactions of people to our foster care programme when it was being launched. Today it is in its third month and though there have been many teething problems, we have never felt that our decision was wrong.
I would not have written this post were it not for a totally unrelated incident. Utpal is in Mumbai spending a few days with Abhigyan and his family. The first few emails were positive ones and then came one where I could feel that Popples was being difficult: tantrums and demands bordering bad behaviour. I must confess that at first I was upset and went into denial and then apologetic mode as any doting parent would. Much later when the heat and embarrassment of the moment has passed, I realised that it had been naive on my part to expect that Utpal would behave like a perfect child in an environment totally new to him. That he accepted to stay in an unknown home without batting an eyelid and with comfort and ease, is in itself huge. He is only 6 and he has had a lot to deal with in the 2000 odd days of his life.
But that does not condone bad behaviour one would we tempted to say, or does it… The urge to balance out his misfortune is not easy to put it in Abhigyan’s words. I cannot but agree. But let us take our thoughts a step further. Till date Utpal was never seen, let alone spent time in what you and I call a family: a papa, a mummy, siblings, maybe grandparents. He has never known a structured home. The only structure he has experienced is that of a boarding school. He has no role models, no examples to emulate, no mentor to walk him through such moments. He survives by instinct and the closest he has been to a home is probably mine, where he knows he gets what he wants courtesy his ever indulging Maam’ji!
We, and here I talk about all those who think they are a cut above the rest being engaged in doing some form of social work or the other and who would like to believe that lives can be transformed by doling out the needed amount of money to pay fees, books and more of the same, have to take a moment to pause and think. If that were so, how easy it would be alter destinies. But the reality is quite different. Education is not just imparted in schools however good they are. Nurturing and building lives start in homes and with parents or guardians. It takes time, patience and above all the will to truly want to do so.
When the idea of what is today our foster care programme was first mooted by a potential donor as part of what we call planet why, these are the words he chose to use: A residential foster care programme for a maximum of 20 bright children where children from deprived backgrounds will be given an enabling and nurturing environment to be able to excel in education and access to employment possibilities. The children ( a maximum of 20) will be kept at planet why for an incubating period of 4 to 5 years and then be sent to boarding school. Emphasis will be on creating an environment close to those found in educated homes, with stress on English and building self-confidence. At that point of time I must admit I was not in a great bargaining position but the immediate reaction that many of us had was that this was far too ambitious if not impossible and that the way it was spelt out reeked of social engineering.
However the die had been cast and even though the initiator of the idea backtracked at a later stage we were left holding the proverbial baby and there was no retracting. The only battle I had won was to begin with a trial with a maximum of 4 to 6 kids. The task was daunting albeit exciting and just the possibility of being able to perhaps change a handful of lives could not be set aside. However one must stress that right from the word go, we knew intuitively and logically that if this was to succeed, we had to keep the kids in residential care at least for part of the week.
Education as I have said time and again is not just imparting the 3 Rs; it goes much further and has to cover life skills. Something that tends to be forgotten. I recall with a smile one of the brainstorming sessions we had early this year about where the foster kids would spend their summer holidays. Our erstwhile donor had suggested that they be sent to homes like yours and mine and wondered if there would people who would accept them. A no comments on this one barring from saying that this person lives outside India and is not aware of the reality that surrounds us.
We will find a solution for Popples, and our fostercare kids are learning to unlearn before they begin learning again.
Life goes on as always.
To quote john Donne: “All mankind is of one author, and is one volume; when one man dies, one chapter is not torn out of the book, but translated into a better language; and every chapter must be so translated…As therefore the bell that rings to a sermon, calls not upon the preacher only, but upon the congregation to come: so this bell calls us all: but how much more me, who am brought so near the door by this sickness….No man is an island, entire of itself…any man’s death diminishes me, because I am involved in mankind; and therefore never send to know for whom the bell tolls; it tolls for thee.”
by Anuradha Bakshi | May 11, 2008 | fostercare
For the past few days I have been in a state of postpartum blues, the kind women suffer after the birth of a child. Doctors have their own complex clinical explanations but to me it is simply the feeling of overwhelming emptiness that comes after what you have waited for, desired, expected, prayed for finally comes your way and instead of the feeling of elation should come your way, it is a terrible emptiness that engulfs you and leaves you rudderless.
Last week saw the realisation of two incredible feats came my way: we managed the garner all the funds needed for the land for planet why and are ready to close the deal, and dear popples got published. I should be jumping with joy, planning a holiday or a bash but al I feel is terribly empty and at a complete loss.
What comes to my mind are Oriana Fallaci’s words: To fight is better than to win, to travel much better than to arrive, once you have won or arrived you feel a great emptiness, and to overcome your emptiness you have to set out on our travels again, create new goals..
That is where I stand now. Needing to create new goals, charting new travels, conjuring new dreams as again in the words of Oriana Fallaci: to have realised your dreams makes you feel lost!
And there are many, some small, some huge, some seemingly easy others daunting. Garner the figure with a staggering numbers of zeros needed to build planet why, assemble the much needed money to run pwhy for the next months and then he next one; find the support to ensure that the foster care kids complete their education, find a possible treatment for little Radha, and maybe start writing another book: the project why story!
Yes to fight is much better than to win, to travel much better than to arrive. It is time set out on a new journey…
by Anuradha Bakshi | May 4, 2008 | fostercare, two indias
The furore created of US President Bush’s recent tirade on the growing appetite of middle class India as the cause of the global food crisis is understandable as it is a blow well below the belt. And many will take up the gauntlet and give befitting answers. This post is not meant to do that.
The battle royale that is now splashed all over the media set me thinking in an entirely different direction. Pwhy has made me aware of many things that earlier did not hold my attention. One of them is the amount of food wasted be it in rich, middle class or poor India. Sadly it seems to be one of the few common denominators that bind all sections of urban India.
Peep into the garbage discarded after any wedding and you will find enough food to feed many hungry souls. Walk into any wedding, party or religious festival and you will find many half finished plates pushed under the tables or dropped into the big plastic containers kept for dirty plates. Look at any one serving him or herself at the buffet table and you will be astonished by the quantity of food piled up on their plate. We are a nation that almost prides ourselves at throwing food.
Every day as I walk the tiny lane of our centre there is food thrown on the street and in every garbage pile no matter how small. This how our very own Manu fed himself for many years: rummaging garbage piles.
In a land where food is equated to God and disrespect to it is considered a sin, this new found frenzy of throwing food is uncanny. Is it a way of asserting that one has finally arrived, reached, bettered one’s self? I wonder. As a child I was taught very early to respect food and not throw it away. My mother after numerous pleas and entreaties put a stop to my habit of leaving food in my plate in a rather harsh but effective manner: the leftover plate was put into a fridge and put in front of me at every subsequent meal. The battle of wits between a 6 year old and her mother lasted two and half days. The hunger oangs made me eat that congealed food as if it was manna from the Gods. Needless to say that since I have not thrown any food away.
Last week there was a party in the lane behind our house. The next morning we found vast quantities of food thrown in the lane. It could have fed over 100 kids. That was rich India. he same week I scolded one of the foster care kids for not finishing his plate. Pat came the answer: my mod allows me to throw what I do not finish. That is poor India.
And yet we all complain about the spiraling rise of food prices.
Food for thought….
by Anuradha Bakshi | May 3, 2008 | fostercare
If you look at Vicky you would think of him as a very quiet and obedient kid. Butter would not melt in his mouth as the saying goes. The reality is quite different as the teachers at the foster care discovered.
Vicky belongs to an extremely poor family and being the youngest boy and the only abled one he has been spoilt silly by a doting but totally illiterate mother. His father a rickshaw puller is barely at home and Vicky was often left to itself playing with older children in the slum, and learning all he wrong things.
It does not take long to change ways in the harsh reality of a slum. We have seen it happen with Babli’s brother Ramu, one of our brightest kids some time back when he was still in primary school. We had a lot of hopes riding on him but they all shattered as Ramu got into the wrong company. Today he barely attends school and has started gambling and other nefarious activities. It does not take long for the slums to take you down.
That is maybe one of the reasons that I held on to the foster care programme in spite of all the criticism and warnings. Maybe, if we took the kids at he right age we would be able to change their lives. Easily said than done.
Vicky the Angel with a halo when we are around turns into a unmanageable brat once our back turned. He has been driving the staff up the walls and also instigating his pals to rebellion. At night when all are meant to sleep, the double life of Mr V begins. Plans are whispered using words that would make a sailor blush. Mostly about what would be done to us once they grow up: I will plant a knife in them whispers Vicky while the others nod. Who do they think they are these ***** and so on. All this heard by he teacher pretending to sleep.
When we confronted Vicky, he just kept quiet, his head bowed, butter would not melt…
Next day we called his father to tell him that if Vicky’s attitude did not change we would be compelled to send him back as he also refused to study. It was heart breaking to see the father’s face as he implored us to keep his son. He simply said that were he to go back to the slums he would become even worse as the environment was not conducive to any child’s proper growth.
We have of course agreed to keep him for the time being. Could we do anything else.
by Anuradha Bakshi | Apr 24, 2008 | fostercare
The world celebrated earth day this week. Wonder why as nothing seems to shake us from the state of catatonic stupor that makes us oblivious to the reality that surrounds us in spite of all media reports, activists’ pleas and terrifying figures thrown at us each day.
In recent days everyone has been harping about escalating food prices and a lot of government bashing has been going on. No one seems to realise that things are going to get worse and that the main culprit in this real life whodunit is each one of us.
A recent news report stated the following
Steady fall in food supply across the world due to stagnation in farm output.Climate change threatens to worsen food insecurity in the world’s poorest regions.
Rising temperatures will affect crop yields in 40 developing countries.
Global warming will increase food prices by 40 per cent.
But we still remain unconcerned and unaware. What is alarming is the quantum of food wasted in our country not only by the rich, but by the poor itself. In villages leftover food is fed to the cattle but in urban slums it is simply thrown on the streets! One of the hallmarks of success or status symbol seem to have become food wastage. Every garbage pile in the poorest of slums is always replete with left over food fit for consumption. People tend to pile up their plates and unabashedly throw what they cannot finish.
When we chided one of the children at the foster care about not finishing his plate, pat came the answer: I never finish it at home! What no one seems to understand is that food shortage is going to hit us sooner than we think. And it is not the government but we ourselves who are to blame. Our total neglect of the environment and hidden economic agendas are the real baddies here.
car. Feeble attempts at promoting common transport seem to go unheeded as it is Land once uses for food is now used for land depleting but pocket filling cash crops. The escalating number of farmer’s suicide in India seems to leave us cold as we are busy increasing our carbon footsteps with misplaced alacrity. Families have not one, not two but cars in double digits. Motorbikes have replaced cycles and will soon be replaced by the much heralded nano believed that almost 1500 cars are added each day on the already choking roads of Delhi!
Trees are felled to make place for these cars, open spaces converted to make way for concrete jungles. The show just goes on. Huge malls that are avid gobblers of energy are replacing smaller shops. India is in the move and the yet inaudible cried of the earth are quietened by the roars of the progress.
Every decision we make affects climate change and this moving documentary urges us to make the right choice.
As I see things around me, I a reminded of the words of Jim Morisson writen in the sixties but that seems so true in our times:
What have they done to the earth?
What have they done to our fair sister?
Ravaged and plundered and ripped her and bit her
Stuck her with knives in the side of the dawn
And tied her with fences and dragged her down
When the Music is – Over The Doors
by Anuradha Bakshi | Apr 21, 2008 | fostercare
Whenever I have had the slightest doubt about the judiciousness of having begun the foster care programme though as many know it was a case of force majeure something has occurred to validate that decision and blow way the once held doubts.
A simple meal was enough to prove that the children were happy and Manu’s joy is visible in more ways then one. But there is still a long way to go.
Many still feel that taking young children away from their homes to give them a better chance in life is not quite the right thing to do. This kind of reaction does often come from those who do not know the situation that prevails in India. The most startling and heinous example of thsi is the present baby swapping case where none of the set of parents wants the baby girl! A DNA test has been ordered by the Court but even though it will determine who the biological parent of the girl is, she will never be truly wanted and one wonders what her life will be like.
Aditya, Vicky, Babli and Nikhil did not have a great future in heir homes even if they did have parents who loved them as best they could. Next year of all goes well they will be in boarding school. Another decision that many think is not the best. But a recent incident did rest some of my doubts.
Last Sunday Xavier went to visit Utpal. The children were busy playing and quite thrilled to see Xavier as they all ran up to him and smothered him with hugs and words. All eyes were of course on the fancy biscuit packet he held and once it was handed over to Uptal they all surrounded him each professing to be his best pal or even his brother. Soon Xavier was forgotten and the little band busy planning the next move.
Utpal the survivor decreed that the box would be opened by Dolly Ma’am. The kids spent some time talking to Xavier but one could feel that they were raring to dash off to look for Dolly Ma’am.
Utpal is the same kid who once lived a lonely and abysmal life. He is the same child who was packed to an unknown place at the tender age of four and who cried his heart out each time we went to see him and had to leave. And today he barely has time for us so busy is he with his pals, his ma’ams and his school.
I know our little pioneers of the foster care will be just like him. So never mind the occasional doubts, there is a whole new world waiting!
