by Anuradha Bakshi | Feb 13, 2009 | Uncategorized
I have often talked about the lure of comfort zones, and the ease with which we sink into them. For the past too long now I have kept away from the day-to-day activities of pwhy. What began as a very conscious and intended decision turned unwittingly into a habit .
I remember early days when I use to check myself from jumping into my three wheeler and setting off to one of the pwhy centres or from picking up the phone to call and find out what was happening. The reason for my voluntary absence was to enable the staff to taken on responsibilities, make decisions and become truly empowered and I must admit that they did a great job making me slowly redundant. True I was informed and briefed about everything and all important decisions were never taken without my consent, but as time passed I realised that everything was going the way I wanted. I had trained my team better than expected.
Was it not what I strived and hoped for. And yet I must confess that there were times when I missed the good old days when one was forever on the field and in the thick of things. My new avatar as the one stuck in front of a computer screen playing with numbers and keeping them in check was not what I had envisaged for myself! So recently when a spate of visitors and new volunteers came to pwhy, I decided to be part of the grand tour!
We went from one place to the other, spending a few minutes at each location. Everywhere we went we were greeted by cheery faces, huge smiles and loud good mornings or afternoons. Classes were filled to the brim and surprisingly tidy and everyone was busy. My mind could not stop itself going back to the day when it all started and to the tiny jhuggi where a handful of kids sat quietly learning their first English words. I could not have imagined then that nine years later over 700 children would be part of the pwhy family. I felt an immense sense of pride laced with immense gratitude. What a journey it has been!
by Anuradha Bakshi | Feb 10, 2009 | Uncategorized
I always enjoy Utpal’s PTMs. For those few hours I get off the spinning wheel, cast my woes aside, forget about funds and balance sheets and set out for the day with a song in my heart and a spring in my ageing and aching feet!
It is always exciting to set out early morning for the long drive and the journey is filled with happy thoughts. Yesterday was one such happy day. We reached school in time and the first task after a few hurried hellos to the guard and staff was to reach his hostel and find him. As always we were greeted by the posse of small kids crowding at the door, each on the look out for his or her parents. Utpal was among them in his read hooded shirt, a tad shy as his warden looked on. After a few minutes spent with his warden it was time to set off for the day. First stop his classroom where we needed to collect his report card. Once again he had done us proud. After a further few minutes spent with his Kamala Ma’am who showed us his craft work and drawings, it was time to fly the coop for a few hours. As always I asked him what he wanted to do and promptly came the answer: pizza khana hai (i want to eat a pizza).
In the car, Amit who had come with us handed him over a box with some cake that he had got from home. Utpal opened the box, a big smile on his face, and then looked around expecting someone to hand him over a spoon. Needless to say we had forgotten to get one. Utpal looked at us with a mischievous smile as he said: should I eat it as my horse does! We laughed our guts out and took the box away telling him we would get him a spoon later.
At the pizza parlour, Utpal regaled us with his usual antics. He sipped his drink his eyes closed and his hands behind his back, danced to the blaring rock music, ate his pizza and ice cream and fed us some too. Time flew, as it always does when one is happy. It was time to leave. Next stop the local grocery to buy his monthly tuck. Biscuits, peanuts and dates where the choice of the day. Then the dreaded moment arrived, the drive back to school. We were going to leave him earlier than usual as I had some work in the afternoon. In the car I gave him the little packet of toys I had bought earlier and that lay hidden in my bag: a small car, a yoyo and some other trinkets. Utpal was all excited as he explored the bag and opened each item. He started telling us what he would do with each of them.
We reached school and he got out of the car his precious packets in his hand. As we set off to walk him back to his hostel, three little boys who were sitting in the school ground whispered: they did not even feed him anything, they just took him out and bough him some things. To which Utpal quipped back: I ate pizza.
We reached the hostel and needless to say the lump in my throat was on there on cue, and the burning in my eyes heralded the dreaded tears, but Utpal the survivor par excellence was already busy with his pals making plans for the remaining part of the day. He had moved on and I realised that it was his way of showing me that all was well and that I could move on too!
by Anuradha Bakshi | Feb 6, 2009 | Uncategorized
What is your one single special wish was the question asked by a visiting friend to a bunch of teenage girls at our women centre. The question was met with stony silence and a few quizzical glares. Children from slums are rarely asked what their wishes are. But all children have dreams and aspirations. It was time to try and ferret them out.
D, our committed coordinator decided to rephrase the question: if you had 1000 Rs what would you get. And out came the answers: a watch, a tape recorder, clothes, school books, gifts for my siblings, a new school bag, clips for my hair and more. Simple dreams, simple desires that reflected the small things that we take for granted but that hold such meaning for these kids. None costing anything close to the 1000 imaginary rupees, and yet things that were so dear to these young girls. The answers were moving in their simplicity.
We decided to delve deeper and asked what they would like to change around them if they could and pat came the answers: get rid of the dirt and garbage around us, get clean water, plant more trees and so on. One young girl simply said she wanted people to learn to respect others. The reason for this was touching: she has no father and her mother works but is often the butt of nasty and misplaced comments. She just wanted others to respect her mom.
Children have wisdom beyond their age but sadly cannot always express their views or share their opinions. No one is willing to listen to them.
A day earlier the same friend had asked the same question to our special kids, the ones many think have no dreams. This is what they said: Radha who can never walk wants to be a dancer. Ankur a policeman, Anurag simply wants to become a big man and Preeti a teacher. Dreams that may seem impossible but are nevertheless important to these children of a lesser God. No dream is ever too small, no dream is ever too big…
by Anuradha Bakshi | Feb 4, 2009 | Uncategorized
How long will it take for little Komal’s scars to heal. I am not talking about the bruises and lesions but of the scars now seared on a little six year old’ s soul. Komal was mercilessly and brutally beaten by sadistic and sick cops in a small town of Uttar Pradesh. Her crime: 200 rs stolen from a woman who thought her to be the culprit. Komal was beaten in public by a policeman while many watched. Her heart rendering cries and pleas fell on deaf years. Actually everyone seemed to be enjoying the show not realising that the camera was rolling.
Her crime was that she belonged to the poorest of the poor, the lowest of the low, those who often become the butt of many a vile game. And this is no isolated incident. The poor and voiceless are subjected to such brutality day in and day out.
The images played out yesterday are disturbing in more ways than one. The despair of the tiny girl in her long skirt and bare feet, screaming and pleading is disturbing indeed but what was more frightening was the look of sadistic pleasure on the faces of the perpetrators, what was more disturbing was the smiles and sneers and the total absence of sensitivity of those looking on.
Komal’s horrific story is the talk of the day as is always the case. Debates are aired on every channel. In one such debate a retired police officer mentioned the fact that policemen were harassed, stressed and overworked and thus vented their frustration. I would like to ask the person whether the same cop would vent his so called frustration on his own 6 year old. There was talk of the need of reforms and more stringent laws. But a juvenile justice act exists which did protect this child if it had been applied.
Had the cameras not been there was the tag line used by one of the TV channels and one really wonders what would have happened to little Komal had the cameras not been there. How long would it have taken for the sadistic cop to vent his so called frustration or how long would the onlookers have enjoyed the show. What is disturbing is that each and every time an aberration like this occurs in full public view, no one reaches out to help the victim. Wonder why?
But the cameras were rolling and Komal’s story was for all to see. Since then a huge damage control drama is in operation: the cops have surrendered, one is in jail the other on bail. Komal’s family was visited by senior police officers who proffered apologies, police stations will be informed about the right of children and so on. But will all this heal the scars of the soul of little Komal. And above all will cameras be rolling the next time another Komal is brutalised.
There are more questions that need to be asked. When will we as a civil society cease to be mute spectators? When will we stop pointing fingers at the weak, the voiceless and the poor each time a petty crime is committed? Will the woman who falsely accused little Komal be made accountable? And will the perpetrator of this heinous abuse be truly punished?
by Anuradha Bakshi | Feb 1, 2009 | Uncategorized
Little D has been rejected by 18 schools. He is just three and was one of the 400 000 aspirants to the 200 000 seats in nurseries run by coveted schools. So even with my poor math 200 000 kids are left in the lurch having failed to meet the requirements of the complicated and ambiguous point system.
Let me elucidate. Little D applied to a neighborhood school thus getting the proximity to school points. But that is where it stops he cannot get the 5 points he would have got were his parents alumni of the school – they belong to another city – or the 2o if he had a sibling in school – he is the first child- , or the 5 if he was a girl child – he is a boy – or the whopping 20 were his parents post graduates – his family is one of first generation learners who want to give the best to their child.
The point system is needless to say elitist, even though it pretends to be fair and transparent. Fees charged by private schools are indeed a deterrent but even if a first generation learner parent managed to surmount this obstacle, the point system ensures that he will be weeded out sooner than later. The caste system pervades insidiously and surreptitiously and we will keep the status quo. Good schools for kids with sparkling pedigrees, the others relegated to the squalor of municipal schools by force majeure. Yes how can little D produce a masters degree for his parents and even if he did how could they manage to fill the long questionnaire akin to an exam paper or answer the questions fired to them in a language they do not master. The Ganguly 100 pint system is a clever ploy to preserve the prerogative of the upper classes. Schools in India have a long way to go before they become level playing grounds for all the children of India, you know the ones who have a constitutional right to free education of equitable quality!
So where does D go from here, or where do the 200 000 rejected children go. To private nursery schools I guess till next year when they will need to get admissions in class I. But these classes will already be filled with the school’s nursery kids. True there are lesser schools, those that have not yet become famous and then there are the state run schools both by the municipal corporation and the state administration the later a little better than the former. But as things stand this is not yet an option for the parents of the 200 000 kids. I say not yet because the day is not far when they may just have to become the only viable alternative or so one would want: a common school that offers free and equitable education for all. True that the road will be long and the detractors many, and true again that the state run schools will need to be revamped and restyled. Let us go back a few years, oh not so very long ago, to the days when public schools were few and many children from the middle class went to government schools. Peruse the bio data of present and past senior government officers, bankers and other well placed people and you will see that they are often product of government schools. So why can this not happen again.
Today the obsession of sending your child to a English Medium Public School has percolated to the lowest classes of society. Yet it was music to my years to hear some parents mention on the various debate on admission aired on every channel the word government school. True that everyone felt they were not an option as the were poorly run, but somehow one felt that if they were made better parents would consider it an option. So why can’t we? Maybe because there are many forces who do not want this to happen, but that is another debate. The reality is that as I write these words is that 200 000 kids have been rejected and have nowhere to go!
by Anuradha Bakshi | Jan 31, 2009 | Uncategorized
Cinema Paradiso is a touching film. It is about youth, friendship, hope and the magic of movies. Cinema Paradiso is also the name of our new cine club that was inaugurated yesterday with a special show for our very special children.
The idea of a cine club for slum kids was first mooted by our dear friend Xavier many years ago. I must confess that the idea seemed rather incongruous to me as I struggled to survive perfecting the art of a hand to mouth existence. But Xavier held on to his dream and he is one who makes dreams come true.
The dream did come true as a sparkling home theatre was bought and set up in our new library. After many discussions it was decided that the cinema club would be inaugurated with a screening for our very special kids. This was because most if not all of these children have never been to a movie hall and are never likely to. This was also because these children are never taken out of their homes or given any treat. So yesterday as the clock struck ten, the 20 odd kids were bundled up in our three wheelers and taken to the library located a short distance away. There was palpable excitement as they put on their shoes and set off for the short journey. There was even more excitement as they entered the the small room and saw the screen on the wall. They quickly sat down, eyes wide open staring at the images on the screen. After s small introduction where each word I said was greeted by warm applause and vehement nods of the head, it was show time: one the menu a 1915 Charlie Chaplin film.
The kids sat mesmerised, laughing at each slapstick moment. Everyone was having a ball, even those who could not hear. The giggles were infectious and we laughed with them, more moved by their enthusiasm and joy than by the on goings in screen. Everyone has a great time. It did not matter if you could not hear, speak, walk, talk: the show transcended all barriers. It was a runaway success.
Some may wonder why have a library filled with books in an alien language an a state of the art home theatre for a bunch of poor slum kids. I must admit that there are many who think this way, the kind of people for whom charity is a good way of getting rid of your rubbish and easing your conscience. In their parlance beautiful, enriching and elevating pursuits are the prerogative of the rich and not fit for consumption for the poor. But we at pwhy differ and believe that every child has a right to get the best of everything. So our little library and small cine club aims at just that: bringing to deprived children a little bit of the magic of books and the wonder of the silver screen.
Welcome to Cinema Paradiso!
