It must seem as though you are surviving on promises wrote a friend I had sought support from. It seems like another message from up there. There seem to have been quite a few in the past days. Propitious or ominous only time will tell. I would rather believe the former.
Times are tough for all and yet promises abound each time you reach out to someone for help. Another friend asked candidly how we survived the first years hoping that maybe we could find some forgotten ideas. My mind wanders back to those days. It was easy then as I had an inheritance to dip in. But no inheritance is big enough to fulfill all the dreams you have and the pot of gold disappeared quicker than one would have thought. And then came the panhandling years that are still very much alive. Yes, pwhy has lived, thrived and survived on the generosity of those one reached out to. And even if you did not always get what you sought, words of encouragement and promises always abounded to ensure you did not give up. And then a miracle big or small came your way and you were out of the woods for some time at least.
Along the way and after many false starts we crafted our sustainability dream, planet why! We had hoped to see it happen by 2010 but recession made it take a back seat and the years of soliciting got a new lease of life. Have we really survived on promises? I guess so as promises uplift your sagging spirits and give you the strength to carry on. Promises of help, promises of support, promises of assistance. But I guess what makes us truly survive are the unvoiced and tacit promises I made to myself: that of giving Manu a home till he breathed his last; the promise to see Utpal conquer his morrows. There is a plethora of such promises I have made to myself each time a child walks into my life and my heart. And yes it is those promises that make me go on, even when times are dark and scary.
Don’t despair! Something will come along, and not just because it has to but because no one will let anything happen to the Project wrote a friend in a mail that dropped my way this morning. Did she sense that I was terribly troubled, or was this a message from the heaven’s above, I do not know. But the warm words felt like balm on a hurting heart! Wonder who the no one is; maybe my friend the God of Lesser beings who has always been there for us.
It is true that I am worried: our sponsor a child programme is just not taking off the way I would have liked it to and compassion seems to have gone AWOL in this times of recession. Each day we get our share of blows big and small and can only take them standing and not dare move. Many may wonder why one does not close shop or at least cut costs. The question is valid and deserves a proper answer. One cannot close shop because too many morrows depend on us: whether it is those of the little and bigger children in school who risk the danger of dropping out were we to shut our doors or the motley crew of special souls who can only claim their right to laugh or smile within the four walls of their project why class. In all we are talking of 800 morrows, no mean number you will agree. One cannot close shop because Manu and Anjali would be on the streets as they have no family but pwhy.
As for cutting costs believe you me we have tried our very best. Our classrooms are jam packed, our teaching staff is minimal and our administration the leanest possible. Moreover we cannot move out of the flat where Manu and Anjali live because no one is willing to rent their premises to house lost souls like them. The only thing we have managed to do is make maximum use of the space available and hence the rooms in the foster care house 4 classes during the day. So the only option available to us is to try and reinvent our ways of seeking help and hone our ability to make people see with their hearts. Something will come along is what I have to believe. So help me God!
I am quite Frequent Reader of your blog. Seriously I want to appreciate the efforts you are making to change the world around us. Good Job! Project Why Rocks! These were the words that greeted me this morning as I sat down to begin another day. I must confess they brought a smile to my face and made me forget, albeit for an instant, the plethora of problems that plague my existence.
I am not of the generation that uses rocks and chill! But today I felt years younger. And the comment left on yesterday’s blog was like a starred report card given to your child. As all moms I tend to get terribly critical of project why and look at its tiny defects and crevices with magnifying lenses, taking all that goes on well simply for granted. But this morning I decided to look at pwhy with benign indulgence and with my heart.
Without sounding cocky or boastful I guess I must be allowed to whisper: Project Why Rocks! As I write these words extraordinary things are happening at pwhy. We have two occupational therapists from France living at our foster care with Manu, Champa and Anjali. They will spend three whole weeks helping us improve our special section. Six young and bright students from one of the top management schools of France are also spending a month at project why. They are busy teaching children in different centres. Two of them are even living at the women centre. They are the second batch of ESSEC students. We welcomed their seniors last year. Today I can say that they come to us because we do rock! And that is not all, young Elise is back to pwhy for the third time, having decided to spend her entire summer holidays with us.
Pwhy is not an easy option. To teach here you have to be willing to brave the heat, sit under hot tin roofs or in cramped spaces and put up with frequent electricity outages. And yet each one of our volunteers enjoys what he or she is doing. With schools having reopened all kids are back from the village and every class is choker block. Sometimes the heat gets unbearable but that does not deter our volunteers. They carry on with a smile on their face and a song in their heart.
I wonder what makes pwhy endearing to others and as today I have allowed myself some indulgence I will say unabashedly that what makes us rock is that we have been making a difference to the lives of others and I end this post with a quote by Forest Witcraft : “A hundred years from now it will not matter what my bank account was, the sort of house I lived in, or the kind of car I drove…but the world may be different because I was important in the life of a child.”
Maaza a gaya – What fun I am having – are the words that Manu pronounced in the middle of Flore’s farewell party. Flore has been a long term volunteer who spent nine months with the special section.
On Saturday she threw a big farewell party for all her special kids. There was music, exciting eats – chocolate filled pancakes and lots of sweets and cold drinks – and lots of games. Flore had brought presents for each and every child. Some got games and books, others lunch boxes and toys, the bigger girls got perfume and clothes and Manu got a monthly ration of his favourite cookies.
Everyone danced with abandon; even those who could not walk. Manu did a perfect rendition of a head banger while sitting in a corner and Radha and Nanhe danced in Shamika’s and Flore’s arms. Preeti did a perfect rendition of the Macarena even though she cannot walk. And Shalini who had got a pair of ghungroos (bells for her feet) regaled us all with her version of Kathak.
When it was time to play games, every one was game and you could see Preeti running on her hands and even winning! For a few hours everything that was sad and ugly was forgotten. I even think that for those precious moments little Radha forgot that she would perhaps have to spend another night on the roadside.
When it was time for the party to be over, one could feel a subtle change of mood. Everyone was trying to be brave but it was no easy task when the friend you were losing was as precious as Flore. Was she was not the one who had spent innumerable hours with every single child in the special section and was she not the one whose stamp was marked on every nook and corner of the newly painted classroom, particularly the clouds on the ceiling that made each one of us dream every time one looked up.
Flore is not your regular nineteen year old. She has wisdom and compassion way beyond her years and had a hart as big as the world and more. So no matter how brave you tried to be there was no way you could hold your tears when it was time to say goodbye.
You can share some moments of this very special farewell party.
Manu is back in class and he is back with his long lost smile. For all of us at pwhy it is a huge miracle. For many months we feared for his life though we kept a brave face. His body had almost given up as he suffered multi organ failure: his liver and kidneys had almost packed up with the potent TB medication and we were at a complete loss.
His frail and emaciated body was devastated but his spirit held on, and held on strong. It refused to give up no matter what. He just lived on and slowly began to heal proving beyond doubt that mind is stronger than the body.
He still cannot walk on his own but when we told him that he could come to class he was thrilled and accepted to be carried down two flight of stairs in spite of the pain. He spent the whole day in class with his long lost friends who were thrilled to see him.
When he felt a little tired he simply lay on Prabin’s lap to rest for a while and then was all set to carry on his activities of the day. It was nothing short of a miracle and I could only watch him with clouded eyes and a huge knot in my throat. What a journey it had been for this saintly soul who had suffered the worst ignominies in his life and yet who accepted it all with dignity and grace. A blessed soul whose life touched each and every child of project why and above all me. I feel humbled and in awe.
Manu has been back home for over three weeks. His body is devastated by his terrible ailment but his spirit is intact and soaring. Yesterday we got his latest blood results. His liver and kidneys have not been able to withstand the medication and hence they need to be stopped. In lieu the men in white have prescribed daily shots. Shots in a body that is just a bag of bones is in no way easy. And yet that is the only way out.
A friend who is a healer and who realises my pain has time and again tried to tell me that Manu’s spirit is immortal and cannot be destroyed. I know she is right . I see his spirit every time I go and sit with him. Though he may not be able to walk or move on his own, Manu always reaches out to me and takes my pulse and then looks me deep in my eyes and says: you do not have fever! If I am standing, Manu, the impeccable host, insists I sit down and then looks for Aunty to order my proverbial cup of green tea! He will sit with me at the dining table for as long as I am there, reassuring me that he is well and that I should not worry. Yesterday he even asked me to get him grapes as no one else was getting them for him.
A friend has dropped by a couple of days and we had sat with Manu for some time. What asaintly soul, pure as snow was what she said as we left him. I realised how true her words were. Manu is just that: a pure soul where no ill can dwell. In spite of everything he has suffered over the years, Manu has never shown any resentment or rancor. In many ways he is a blessed soul.
His pain is unbearable. I have spent many nights praying for his well being. I would like to see his body heal and his suffering stop. I cannot begin to understand why the God of Lesser Beings has ordained so much pain for him. When we finally found him a real home with a bed, I really thought we had come full circle. And yet that was not to be. I can only wonder at what lies ahead and hope for the best
It must seem as though you are surviving on promises wrote a friend I had sought support from. It seems like another message from up there. There seem to have been quite a few in the past days. Propitious or ominous only time will tell. I would rather believe the former.
