by Anuradha Bakshi | Feb 10, 2008 | Uncategorized
Last Friday our very special friend Andy had a haircut. But this was no ordinary haircut. Everything about it was noteworthy. It brought together a wonderful human being from Seattle, a hearing impaired girl from a Delhi slum and a little cat who decided to grace the occasion with its presence. The location was no beauty salon or barber shop; it was the terrace of the pwhy building!
It all began in our special section with Andy tugging at his growing locks and someone suggesting he have a haircut. Rinky our resident beauty consultant who is not only a trained beautician and hair artist but has now almost one year of work experience immediately offered to do the needful. In our own inimitable yet eloquent sign language she offered to take him to her salon. However the suggestion was shot down as the said salon is for Ladies Only and Andy’s presence there would have been anathema!
After much deliberation a solution was found. The haircut would be done at pwhy itself and the terrace was the designated salon of the day. So come Friday our tiny terrace was converted into a barber shop and Andy got his haircut! For Rinky it was a very important and serious moment. It was the very first time she was cutting a man’s hair. But Rinky is one of a kind and she set out to accomplish her task with professional prowess and extreme composure and the result was quite stunning. Even the little cat was impressed.
It was yet another perfect moment; one that can only happen at pwhy!
by Anuradha Bakshi | Feb 6, 2008 | Uncategorized
There are moments at pwhy which are incredible and moving. These are the moments that make you forget all the bad times, the struggle, the dejection, the angst that is part of any one engaged in the kind of work we do and these are the tiny cameos that make it all worthwhile.
Courtesy our dynamic volunteer Mathilde the special section of pwhy has been having weekly karate classes. As the class has children with are differently abled to use the politically correct word, they were divided into two groups. Preeti, our spirited polio affected 12 year old, who walks with the help of her hands, was relegated to group B as the class was going to concentrate on kicks and everyone felt that was something she would not be able to do.
The class started and everyone was busy kicking. A few minutes into rthe class and Mathilde felt someone tugging at her pants. It was Preeti who wanted her attention as she set about showing off her version of kicks: furious movements of her useless leg achieved with the help of her had!
Needless to say we all felt tiny and like heels. Mathilde stopped the class as place was made in the centre for Preeti who joined the class and proved to everyone present that she was as good of not better than all of them.
We had our new Karate Kid, one who called us back to order and ensured that we did not forget that if your spirit was in he right place nothing was impossible.
by Anuradha Bakshi | Feb 4, 2008 | Uncategorized
Sunday was truly staggering in more ways than one. On the way back from Utpal’s school I banged my head on the edge of the car door and it was a stunning blow. Somehow it was ominous in more ways than one.
As I lay down to catch a few minutes of respite I switched on the TV hoping it would provide the needed escape. It was a news channel and as usual the topic was the ongoing cricket controversies. I laid down with my eyes shut barely listening to the droning voice of the newsreader. The news item changed and I sat up in horror as the story of a seven year old being brutally beaten by a mob filled the air. My blood ran cold. The child, just a baby, was tied to a pole, trashed without mercy and stripped while the crowd jeered.
My thoughts went back to an incident that had occurred a few months back and that I had written about though sadly many had not understood why the plight of that woman had shaken me and disturbed me. An ugly spat had ensued on the comment box and that disturbed me to the the extent that I stopped writing about such issues.
Yet the sight of this child made me cringe and brought back all the repressed feelings. What have we become and I say we as can one afford the comfort of excluding one’s selves from the mob that carried out that abhorrent act? It is a reflection of the society we have become and a shame. How can anyone allow such a thing to happen; how can anyone watch a small child being subjected to such humiliation and pain and stand still? A seven year old is a baby, a tender being that needs protection, care and nurturing. Any child that age can err; what he needs is someone to show him right from wrong.
My thoughts went back to an incident that occurred many years back when we had just begun our work. Two small boys, about 6 or 7, where often jeered and threated as thieves. Their misdemeanor was to steal a few coins from the local temple. Both hailed from poor dysfunctional families, their mothers in the village and their fathers brutal drunks. They were sweet boys, one with a severe handicap. I sat down with them one day and asked them why they took money from the temple: they looked at me with broad smiles and answered in unison: to buy chocolates! I gave them some coins and asked them to go and buy the said chocolates and show it to me. They dashed off and came back with a tiny packet of corn puffs. That was what they called chocolate. I told them not to take money from the temple but to come to me whenever they wanted chocolate and I would give them the money to buy it. Unlike what many would have believed, they never came everyday, but sometimes when they felt like a bag of corn chips.
I wonder what the little 7 year old from a little village in Bengal wanted as he set about opening a tool box? Maybe just a small treat, something every child is entitled to. Was there no one in that jeering mob that could have reached out to the child and asked him why he was stealing? Was there any justification at all to beat the child, strip and humiliate him in public? What makes us behave ion such a repugnant manner? Where are all the values we love brandishing at the drop of a hat? I cannot begin to imagine what that little child must have felt for that interminable hour? Which God did he pray to? Was that God listening? I cannot begin to imagine what scars the child will carry for the rest of his life?
What gives us the right to act in such a way? I have no answers. I just hang my head in shame.
by Anuradha Bakshi | Feb 4, 2008 | Uncategorized
Normally the first Sundays of every month are special. This is the day when the motley crew that goes under the name of ‘Utpal’s parents’ sets out for the long drive to his school and spends time with him. Every month the set of parents is different – barring a few constants – and comes from all walks of life and the world over. This Sunday too his family extended from the US to India via Italy and France!
The day was to be special as we were also planning to visit our new plot of land. After a quick visit to the school we spent some time at the site and then set off to give Mr P his monthly treat. This time after much deliberation it was to be a new mall! After a long drive and a longer wait at the new toll highway we reached the said mall. It was a strange experience as we strolled along Kafkaesque corridors interspersed with newly opened stores.
At last we found a place to eat and later the children play area. The children had their fill of games but somehow the mood was not right as Utpal kept clutching to my hand and refusing to leave me though he had to go back to school in another car. He was unusually stubborn and would not listen to any coaxing. I sat with him on a bench trying to talk to him but to no avail. It was heart wrenching as he does not normally behave that way.
I did not want to leave him and could feel my eyes welling up with tears. He looked up and saw my face and sensing my pain he just walked away towards the waiting car, clutching the little bag filled with the goodies he had bought. I just watched him walk away, wondering what was going on in his little head and not finding the answers that would quieten my mind.
We drove back in silence. I had been deeply disturbed by Utpal’s behaviour and wondered what had caused it. What had he been trying to convey? Why was I not able to sense what ailed him?
A plethora of questions crowded my mind each needing an answer but none forthcoming. Some pertained to Utpal only but others took on a wider connotation and I thought of all the little ones who would soon be in our care, each one needing much more than one could even begin to anticipate.
As long as they were left in their world, however dark and abysmal, they were protected by the ways of that very world, but once you took them away things were bound to change. With each step they take on this new journey,will come new dreams, new hopes but also new pain, grief and hurt. As they reclaim their right to be children they will need the protection and care till now denied to them in their world where all one does is simply survive. And we as adults have to play by the rules.
Is that what Utpal was trying to tell me in his own way?
by Anuradha Bakshi | Jan 29, 2008 | Uncategorized
The tragic death of four tiny school children in Mumbai brings to fore once more the terrifying reality of the safety of our children and the alarming conditions prevailing in our cities. The illogical school system compels parents to send their wards to faraway schools. The absence of safe school transport forces then to take recourse to whatever is available and the greed of transporters on the look out for a quick buck makes the journey to school one fraught with danger. A vicious circle no one can truly break.
I have seen many children climb into potential death traps every morning as vans propelled y cooking gas cylinders abound in our city. Little Kiran is one of them. It is true that her family did try the school bus but the route was so long and the stop so far away from her home that they soon fell for the easier option: the school van! It fetched her from her door step and droped back home and was a tad cheaper too!
What alarms me is the way our education system is heading. A safe option is always a neighborhood school and that can only happen if and when the government school system is reinforced and becomes a viable option for a larger segment of society. But sadly it is quite the contrary that is happening as more and more parents are opting for the now mushrooming private schools. Somehow the fact that free education is a constitutional right seems to have been lost in translation.
How many more deaths will it take for us to finally wake up.
by Anuradha Bakshi | Jan 28, 2008 | Uncategorized
Seeing Utpal is always a celebration and I must confess that since he has gone to boarding school I do miss seeing his little face and incredible smile.
Yesterday was a special day as we had to give the first instalment of our land and we all knew that this had to be done by no one else but Utpal. And though it was not PTM day, we made the necessary phone calls and got the required permissions.
We reached the school and as we sat in the reception area we soon saw Utpal strutting down the corridor all bundled up and wearing his stunning smile. Soon it was hugging and cuddling time though I could sense his almost imperceptible unease – he was now a big boy – and stopped immediately.
He sat with us at first a little self conscious as we were surrounded by teachers and staff but to my absolute delight he soon reverted to his old endearing self and asked me what I had brought for him. He smiled with glee when I handed him over his bag of goodies filled with his favourite biscuits and cookies and set about examining his booty. He then opened one packet and after eating one biscuit set off to go and share it with his pals.
Soon it was time to leave and unlike past days when parting was always difficult he waved us a cheery goodbye and set off back to the game he had left to come and meet us. I guess this time I was the one to wipe the corner of my eye but was happy to see that Utpal had settled in his new life.
