by Anuradha Bakshi | Feb 7, 2010 | Uncategorized
Heaven grant that the burden you carry may have as easy an exit as it had an entrance wrote Erasmus. A graceful exit and the appropriate time is undoubtedly something we all aspire and hope for. And yet when we charge into an open door we seldom think of how we will exit it when the need arises. New doors beckon us with promises of news and uncharted journeys and far too often follow our heart and sink deeper into unknown land. This is what happened to me exactly 10 years ago. The door in question was the one that had project why written on it.
I must admit that it was a lot like Alice in her Wonderland. One road led to another. And as I stepped into each one of them wonders greeted me and engulfed me. Soon I found myself surrounded by little souls egging me to act and fulfill their hopes. I did to the best of my ability. And as time passed, I found myself in the middle of a complex labyrinth from where the entrance door was no more visible. In the initial years that was not important as optimism and passion clouded all rational vision. But then slowly I found myself looking for that elusive exit door. It could of course not be the one I entered through as that would mean going back and I knew that that was no more an option. I had to find one that allowed a graceful exit, one that would ensure that all that I had been lovingly and patiently crafter remained intact and even thrived after I had quietly tiptoed away.
For the past few months I have been looking for that exit door. There have been many I knocked on but then had to abandon as they lead to nowhere. But then one day a tiny door beckoned me: it had the words planet why written on it. I opened it hesitantly and was awestruck. What met my eye seemed far too colossal for me to fathom. How could I make what I was seeing ever happen? And yet as I looked deeper I saw a tiny door marked Exit at the other side. To reach it I knew I had to make planet why happen.
Note: Planet Why is our sustainability vision. It is a guest house the proceeds of which would enable us to continue the work we have been engaged in for the past ten years
by Anuradha Bakshi | Feb 5, 2010 | Uncategorized
Only the educated are free wrote Epictetus in 100 AD.
Today young Yash and little Meher took their first step towards real freedom. They are to sit for their admission test for boarding school and if all goes well join five other children of a lesser God: Utpal, Babli, Nikhil, Vicky and Aditya. For Yash and Meher this is a red letter day!
Yash and Meher both have incredible stories. Yash came to us when he was barely six weeks old. He came into this world for all the wrong reasons. No one had a road map for him. We decided to craft him one. Easier said than done and I must confess there were many setbacks. We had first thought of finding him a new home but that was not to be. Legal tangles and uncaring hearts ensured it did not happen. The little boy weathered every storm with patience and grit. He spent the first few years in our creche and then moved to a little neighborhood school. We knew that something needed to be done. Only education could save him and give him a future. He needed boundaries and proper care. That is when we decided to send him to boarding school.
Meher came into our lives one fine day, quite perchance. But as soon as we lay eyes on her beautiful scarred face we knew she had come to stay and that the God of lesser beings had a road map for her. Her morrows would be safe. Thanks to a wonderful network of caring souls her life changed: plastic surgery repaired her scalded scalsp and maimed hands and soon this spirited child was ready to taken on the world. We knew that she too needed an education and the only place she would get that was in boarding school.
If all goes well, and why should it not as we are on hallowed ground, both Meher and Yash will begin school in April. A small miracle indeed!
by Anuradha Bakshi | Feb 5, 2010 | Uncategorized
Komal may not be able to join her sister in school and that for no fault of hers. Her family filled up the forms in time and completed all the required formalities. As per the stipulated nursery admission procedure Komal should have got the needed points: she is a girl child, she has a sibling in school and she lives close to the school, albeit in a slum! And yet she did not make it to the final list.
One wonders why?
Is it that her address was not swanky enough, or that her father’s job – he is our senior secondary teacher and has been solely responsible for ensuring that no pwhy student has ever failed a Board exam – is not upmarket and thus not exploitable, or is it that her mom is a simple housewife! Never mind if the government recently mandated that schools were not to consider parents qualifications and profession were not to come in the way of accepting or denying admission to a child. The fact is that for no fault of hers, this little girl did not make the list!
Once again we are faced with admission woes and one again innocent kids are caught in the incomprehensible nursery admission drama. Two friends just called to tell me that their children had not made it to the 19 schools they had applied in. In the case of one of them, a boy and an only child, he did not make it because he had no siblings in school, was not a girl, and his parents were both brought up and educated in another city. The entire admission list of the said schools was made up of siblings and/or alumni children. Where does a only boy child go! Something is definitely terrible wrong. The only ones who make a killing are schools who accept innumerable admission forms sold at a whopping profit. A recent survey revealed that in Delhi alone good public schools earned revenues by selling prospectus to an extent of Rs.5,000 crore.
So where do harrowed parents go! And here again the tale is sordid. We had a taste of it last year when Kiran needed admission. Things can always happen if you are willing to pay. We did exposed the matter last year and little Kiran got admission in another school and truly . We were relieved and believed that things would be simpler when her sister’s turn came. How wrong we were or I guess should I say how gullible we were. Shylock always seeks his pound of flesh.
Little Komal only applies in one school, the one that had her sibling. When she did not make it, despair made us want to know why she had been rejected. I guess most parents just walk away dejected but hers did not. Upon seeing the keen interest they displayed, they were told to come back next week and meet the Chairperson. They did. They pleaded and pleaded and were thrilled when the said person finally acceded to their request. They were given a slip and sent to the accountant. The man perused the slip and asked them if they had brought the needful. They were perplexed. The man said money as he handed them a slip with a figure scribbled on it. The figure was for a whopping 35 K: admission fees and I guess a donation. He was quick to add that this was to be paid in cash, after that payments could be made by cheque.
How would the little family come up with this amount, and yet this amount held the key to the little girl’s future. And this was no time for sting operations and whistle blowing, two little innocent girls morrows were at stake. The parents will find the money. They will beg, borrow, steal but will get their child admitted. At least she has secured admission!
This is what is happening in in a country where children now have a constitutional right to free
and compulsory education. Should one just again say: Oh darling yeh hai India!
Note: many government schools give admission on a lottery basis. Wonder if that is fairer! But the question remains: what happens to those who do not make it. When will we have a common neighborhood school for all our children.
by Anuradha Bakshi | Jan 30, 2010 | Uncategorized
In the midst of winter, I finally learned that there was in me an invincible summer
Albert CamusThe recent rape of a 9 year old in Goa has once gain brought to fore the extreme vulnerability of children who are easy victims to lurking predators of all kind. The perpetrators of the heinous act have been arrested. Will they be convicted or with they one gain easily slip though the gaping holes of inadequate laws? One does not know. The sad truth is that in crimes against children, adults often go scot free. Rape is undoubtedly the extreme aberration. What we often do not see is the innumerable insidious crimes that are committed each day against innocent and hapless children. And what is even more dangerous is that children far too often accept the offense in total silence, each wound simply scarring their little souls forever. The perpetrators on the other hand, carry on the abuse with impunity, protected by written or unwritten laws that cover them with a cloak of false respectability.
Sadly again, the worst crimes on children are committed by people who the child trusts, looks up to and sometimes even loves. Is not the adult child equation one of trust and credence?
Last week a little girl came to one of our centres with a bruise on her cheek and a cut on her lips. When questioned she simply answered that the one on the cheek was a blow by her father and the other by her mother. There was no anger, no wrath, nothing.. the child simply accepted it.
My mind went back many years, to the day when I had seen a little girl in her school uniform crying copiously as she walked back from school. When i asked her what had happened she answered she had been beaten by her teacher. When asked why she simply added I must have done something wrong. The need to challenge a wrongful act was absent. The child seemed once gain conditioned to accept abuse when it came from an adult you trusted. And with each act of abuse that misplaced belief is alas strengthened. When things get too bad children take the unthinkable step and end their lives. Helplines are of no real help. An abused child has scant self esteem. She or he are incapable of seeking help. Abusive adults ensure that, and if that is not enough the family and social environment extol the code of silence.
How then does one get the child to break out of this vicious stranglehold? How does one get the child to break the unjust code of silence she or he are compelled to accept? It is not easy and that is where civil society, or at least those who have not abdicated their power to defend what is right, should stand up and shatter the oppressive silence. One of the most effective campaigns against domestic violence has been the Bell Bajao or Ring the Bell campaign. It urges each one of us to ring the doorbell when we come to face to face with an incident of domestic violence. The bottom line is do not keep quiet and walk away.
The same needs to be done when one sees child abuse in any form: bet it in homes, schools or on the street. Only then will innocent abused children begin seeing a glimmer of hope at the end of a dark tunnel and will slowly regain their lost innocence and take their first step on the long road to healing. Only then will they be able to pick up the pieces of their broken self worth and start believing that each one of them carries withing her or himself an invincible summer no one can rob them off.
So what are we waiting for…..
by Anuradha Bakshi | Jan 25, 2010 | Uncategorized
Yesterday was the Annual Day of the Shanti Gyan International School, the little boarding school where five of our kids study. The show was to begin at 11 am, and we were there on time! None of us were prepared for what was to enfold. More than just a school function, it turned out to be a taste of India in more ways than one.
Needless to say we were the first to arrive, guests I mean, the children were all there, dressed up and ready to put their best foot forward. And boy they did. The show was enthralling and that is what I first want to share with you. It started with a beautifully executed Saraswati Vandana by the senior girls, a delight for the eyes and the soul. Then the school orchestra took the stage and my heart swelled with pride when I saw Utpal come on stage tugging his little Casio. The piece was a foot tapping percussion and keyboard original composition and we were again spell bound. Next was the turn of the tiny ones whose action song got the audience clapping and cheering. We were then treated to a patriotic song, befitting the coming Republic Day. I was amazed at the perfect rendition and beautiful arrangements.
The moment we were all waiting for was finally there. A dance medley that included four of our pwhy stars: Babli, Vicky, Nikhil and Utpal. The children put the best of Bollywood to shame as they executed the intricate steps to perfection, swaying their hips with abandon and swinging their arms with the expertise of a professional. They were true stars and I was moved beyond words. What a journey it had been for these children of a lesser God. The next part of the show was a beautiful ballet entitled the Golden Rules. All religions were portrayed in an enchanting way: the Jewish wedding dance was perfect, the Gurudwara scene was touching, the Qawali got everyone clapping and the Bhumi dance was mystical. The finale was filled with energy and enthusiasm, a perfect ending to a perfect show. But there was more: the stage was slowly filled by the entire cast with faultless entries and all the children sang the National Anthem again impeccably.
As I watched the intense little faces singing, my eyes filled with tears and I quickly mouthed a silent prayer to the God of little beings beseeching him to always walk by the side of these five little kids who had braved all odds and done us proud.
Please spend a little time and see the pictures below. They are nothing short of small miracles. Enjoy the pictures before you read on!
The picture I conjured above should have been the one that played out in reality: an uninterrupted show by a bunch of lovely kids for all to enjoy and revel in. It would have been the case in any other land but ours. What if I told you that the show that was no longer than 2 hours at best, lasted almost 5! That the children who were dressed in their costumes at 11, appeared for their final tableau at 16.30! Never mind if some of them were tiny, never mind if some costumes were too flimsy to withstand the winter! Sadly that is what happened as concurrently to the children’s show we were unwilling spectators to another one, this one produced and staged by adults and whose main protagonists were Very Important People – or should is say Irritating -, the necessary component of any celebration in India. My heart went out to the management of the school and above all to the young and charming principal who stoically defied all odds and never lost his smile or composure.
Before I go on to describe to you the happenings of the day, I must stress on the fact that in India, the very existence and success of many business and other activities depend entirely on your ability to garner adequate support from the powers that be. No honest or hardworking soul can ever master the intricacies of the laws that govern us: they seem to be made in such a manner that help is always needed. The help comes at a price, one being the compulsion to include personalities in any celebration you organise. So the annual day of a school needs to have its plethora of VIPs!
As I said earlier the children were ready by 11.30 and so were we. But the clock ticked on and the front rows remained empty. An announcement was made requesting us to go and have a cup of tea. We did. The clock continued ticking. The children were seen peeping from behind the curtain. The head boy and head girl of the school stood patiently at the lectern, their big sashes gleaming. Another announcement informed us that the chief guest was on his way and should be with us in a few minutes. The clock struck one and still no one! You could see worried faces and people talking frantically on phones. The children waited in the wings. Then some activity as one of the guest had arrived. The show could begin. It did. It was 1. 45. The first three items were performed after the guest had been duly welcomed with flowers and speeches. We were to say the least relieved. But our relief was short lived. Around 2.20 the show was stopped. The chief guest had arrived. More speeches, more flowers.. and the children waiting.
After some speeches, prizes were distributed to a batch of kids. Great photo ops for the VIPs as I have forgotten to mention, there was a band of pressmen and photographers in attendance. The guests were plied with refreshments as is custom in our country, while we could amost hear our stomachs rumbling. This drama went on. One had to go through 4 VIPs each seeking their place in the sun. Finally it was over and the children could perform their final acts.
What got my goat and left me speechless was the fact that none of the so called VIPs had bothered to even remember the name of the school whose function they were attending and had to be prompted. The speeches were mutually or even in one case self adulatory. One wondered who their were being addressed to. The whole act was to say the least galling. A necessary evil one could well have done without. A total disregard for the hundreds of people who had waited patiently and for the little children whose day it was and who were the real VVIPs. But I guess we were all parents and thus vulnerable. Even I waited patiently. Had it been any other occasion I would have walked off!
As is often said: Oh darling this is India!
by Anuradha Bakshi | Jan 22, 2010 | Uncategorized
I have often been faced with dilemmas, some more challenging than others. And each time a message from what one may, for want of another word, call the heavens has come my way and dispelled all clouds. For the past few weeks now I have been pondering about how to bring about the qualitative change we seek and need at project why. The first option that came to mind was to try and bring about the change slowly, a class or two at a time, and add a class each year. The reason for doing it this way was dictated by our limited resources, both space and funds. It would have been unrealistic and unreasonable to do otherwise, or so it seemed.
I set out to write a small proposal for what I called a pilot project. Should have been easy but somehow it just did not get off the ground. I must admit that I was extremely frustrated and annoyed. I just did not realise that this was a gentle message from the heavens urging me to stop and review things. I left the unfinished proposal but found myself sharing my thoughts with friends and well wishers individually. Many warmed up to the idea. But my writer’s block refused to go away. Then a mail dropped from someone unknown till then. It was a person who had stumbled on our site and wanted to help us. I of course was prompt in sharing my new quality mantra! That is when another message from the so called heavens dropped my way, this one louder and clearer: why not quality for all. The writer reacting to my mutation idea simply asked: is it just an idealist’s expression of dissatisfaction at the natural gap between ideals and reality, is it a strategic internal brainstorming on improvements, perhaps both? Can quantity be maintained while striving for improved quality, even if it costs significantly more? Would it be possible to experiment with increasing to 2 hours instead of 3 on a trial basis, and grow gradually and in a more manageable fashion?
The words hit me like a bolt out of the blue. The whole idea that had seemed so right, was actually preposterous if you viewed it within the spirit of project why. Was I not the one who had always clamoured high and low about the unacceptable reality of having different schools and systems of education for different sets of children? Was I not the one who extolled the virtues of a common school? Then how could I have thought even for a moment that I could have within project why two parallel approaches? This was against the very grain of all we stood for. I can only say in my humble defense that I put forth this idea keeping in mind our limited resources. But were we not the ones who always managed some way or the other, who always rose up to any challenge and met it with a smile. And while I debated all these issues, another mail dropped by, this one from a dear friend and young mentor. My hope is that your “quality vs. quantity” debate need not be one or the other he gently chided. The writing was on the wall. Quality it had to be, and for all our primary kids! True we would have to sacrifice some small things like individual copy books for all or monthly outings for every kid, true we would have to crowd children in the limited space we have, but the small impediments would be amply assuaged by large dollops of enthusiasm and commitment.
The writing was on the wall, only I had been too blind to see it. It had to be quality for all right from the word go! Was that not what project why was all about.
