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.
by Anuradha Bakshi | Jan 21, 2010 | Uncategorized
I don many hats, some by choice, others by conviction and still others by compulsion but there is one that was bestowed upon me as a blessing and that is the one of a granny! Exactly a year ago, on this very day my life changed forever. A bundle of pure joy landed in my existence: it was Agastya Noor my grandson.
Today Agastya celebrates his first birthday and I once again beg your indulgence an allow me to share some personal thoughts. I wonder if becoming a grandmother has changed me in any ways. Outwardly life is very much the same and I continue donning all hats and giving each my very best. Yet I realise that I do it all with a song in my heart and a spring in my gait. You see Agastya brought hope into my life. He has given me the strength to laugh in adversity and to truly believe that tomorrow is another day. He has made me understand that every child is precious as each comes with dreams and unlimited possibilities and shown me how blessed I am to be able to fulfill a tiny part of those dreams. He has shown me that life is a wonderful gift that has to be lived to its fullest. God bless him always!
by Anuradha Bakshi | Jan 20, 2010 | Uncategorized
Martha lives in Mexico City. She came to see us for a day and got touched by what I have oft called the magic of project why. Back in her country she thought of us and wrote these words I want to share with all. Maybe she more than anyone else, intuitively understood the true spirit of project why.
WHY?
Why feel pity when you can feel hope?
Why stand by as a spectator when you can jump in and be a participant?
Why feel indignation when you can feel commitment?
Why conform when you can transform?
Project why was born to answer these questions. It was born out of a powerful desire to say no. No, I will not accept this as the way it is, as the way it has always been. No. I will not accept dispair as an unescapable reality. No. I will not be handed my destiny. I will have a say in writing my story, and the story of those around me.
But why try to change the world if it seems such an impossible task?
Maybe you should ask little Utpal, who survived devastating burns against all odds thanks to the help summoned by Project Why.
Or Heera, a young lady who has the hope to heal her heart and maybe live beyond her 16Th birthday.
Or Himanchu, who is learning to read, and write, and speak a new language, and dream of posibilities rather than obstacles.
We CAN change the world. But we have to do it one child at a time. And we are already
behind schedule.
Get your heart involved. Today.
Visit projectwhy and join this celebration of opportunity, life and future.
Why? The answer is simple. LOVE. Pure. Raw. Undying love.
Martha Soler
by Anuradha Bakshi | Jan 16, 2010 | Uncategorized
An article that appeared in today’s paper revealed the tragic state of primary education. The article begins with these ominous words: the scare raised by the Supreme Court on Thursday about China being poised to overtake India in English proficiency is about to come true. The article further states that just about 44% of class I children know there English alphabet. Which really translates into the fact that these children will seldom master the language, irrespective of whether they are taught English or not. Unless we do something about teaching English, we may lose an advantage we do not realise.
The reason for this deterioration is manifold: misplaced political agendas, poor teaching methods, lack of interest and so on. But whatever the reason it is ultimately the child who bears the brunt. Knowledge of English is undoubtedly a huge advantage to anyone seeking to better his or her employment opportunities. The fact that English was part of our colonial heritage should be viewed in a positive manner and not rejected. And teaching English to underprivileged kids could be the elusive leveler we all seek.
At present the teaching of English is government schools is truly abysmal. Children learn by rote and thus are never able to use the language as a communication tool or ever read a book. Alter the question slightly and the child is lost. Children may no there colours, animal names, vegetable names, and more such lists but would never be able to combine them into a sentence. In higher classes they learn there comprehension answers by heart and can change an affirmative sentence into a negative one without understanding the words! So even if on paper all looks great, the bottom line is that even with years of study of the subject children are not able to comprehend or speak English.
In today’s world knowledge of English is a real advantage, it opens doors previously closed and can give you the head start you so need. And yet far from recognising this advantage, we are slowly letting it perish. Even we at project why have been overtaken by circumstances and have let our own advantage fade. Did we not begin our work almost a decade ago with spoken English classes? And was it not in answer to a need expressed by the community: Teach our children English?
It is time to wake up and salvage the advantage we have. To make course corrections and give our children the one advantage they truly need. It is really time to mutate.
by Anuradha Bakshi | Jan 12, 2010 | Uncategorized
Compassion brings us to a stop, and for a moment we rise above ourselves wrote Mason Cooley. The recent appalling incident of total and shocking indifference that seemingly shook the nation brought to light the distressing lack of compassion that permeates our social fabric. The sight of the bleeding policeman begging for help may have disturbed us but would it lead us to act were we ever placed in a similar position is the question that begs to be asked.
This incident brought back to memory another incident that occurred 5 years back. One morning I was informed by one of our staff of the presence of a young man who had been lying in the area and seemed hurt. When I went to the spot I found Babloo Mandal, a man in his twenties writhing in pain. He had a huge maggot infested wound on his leg and he cried for help in agony. It seemed he had been hurt in an accident some time back and had been left there, perhaps by the driver of the car that hit him. This was a Monday morning and I discovered with horror that the man had been lying there since late Saturday night. This was a crowded area with flats and shops and people passing regularly but NO ONE had extended the boy any help. His words seemed incoherent but if you bothered to stop and listen he was simply begging for someone to save his life. The stench of his wound was vile and people simply walked by hurriedly.
I also discovered with renewed horror that the police had been called the previous night but had refused to take him to a hospital. We decided to spring int action and while we set about calling the cops one of my staff went to him and held his hand and told him that help was one the way. We realised that Babloo was simple minded and mentally challenged. The cops did eventually turn up but no one was willing to pick him up, so I sent two of our teachers with them. I thought that we had the matters in hand but I was soon to discover how wrong I was.
An hour or so later I got a call from the hospital saying that the doctors refused to attend to him and had handed some disinfectant and cotton to my teachers. Babloo was left on a stretcher outside the emergency hall. Enough was enough. I called a friend from the press and set out for the hospital. My journo friend reached the hospital a camera man in tow at the same time as I did and pictures were clicked before the authorities realised what had happened. Soon we were swarmed by security personnel and hospital staff. Babloo Mandal was finally taken into the emergency room but there too, no one was willing to cut off his shorts. It was again a pwhy staff who went and got a blade and did the needful. His wound was cleaned and dressed and we waited hoping the hospital would admit him. But that was not to be. The hospital staff told us tersely to take him away.
A few phone calls were made and we found an NGO that had a shelter with medical staff and were willing to take him. Babloo was finally taken to the shelter and then moved to a private hospital that took care of him. And though gangrene has set in, the doctors managed to save his leg. In the meantime, based on the few details he could give us, we managed to trace his family and after a few weeks Babloo was reunited with those he loved.
I had forgotten about this incident but the sight of the policeman begging for help brought back memories of Babloo Mandal. At that time what we did what was to us the obvious option and nothing out of the ordinary. True everyone else’s behaviour had upset us, but somehow we never found it necessary to delve upon the matter. I was just another day at project why. But today somehow many questions that should have been asked years back come to mind. Is compassion such rare quality? How can people watch and let someone die? Why did no one go near the bleeding man and at least reassure him? How does one teach another to be compassionate? Why don’t we stop and rise above ourselves when needed?
I do not have the answers. All I know is that I will stop each and every time it is needed.
