reality hurts…

Goodness is the only investment that never fails.” said Henry David Thoreau and till very recent times I felt that way. Look with your heart, a maxim borrowed from the Little Prince is one I followed with conviction and I guess that is also why a project aimed at imparting education found itself mending hearts along the way.

And that is also why one did not shy of helping N when she was in need, no matter what the need was. Imagine my surprise when I came to know that a humane act was so grossly misconstrued by some that it led to recriminations and even show cause notices and possible dismissal for N. I must confess that such a reaction from seemingly educated people came not only as a shock, but also as a rude reality check that left me dumbfounded.

No matter which way I tried to look at the matter, I could not find any element of logic to warrant such action and reaction. I shared my dilemma with many friends and one of them wrote these words: I think a lot of people equate kindness (and following your heart) as a weakness. So many people live self-centered lives that they can’t imagine doing something for someone else without expecting some sort of reward or payment (even though kindness has its own rewards).

Maybe he is right and such people exist but I stil find it difficult to comprehend the totally unwarranted blow that has fallen on one who has suffered enough.

And quite frankly if following your heart is a weakness, then I hope I remain weak as long as I live.

reality bites

reality bites


Our decision to close down one of our primary centres may have perplexed some of our friends and well wishers. I must confess that it was not an easy one but the writing was on the wall and we had to stand by our initial mission: that of empowering parents to take charge of the education of their children. So when we realised that most of the children were now attending private tuition’s we knew our task was done and we had to move to another place.

Sanjay Colony was the chosen location. In barely a month there are over 80 children who attend our classes regularly. Yesterday I was given the monthly report of that centre and its content more than validated our decision. More than 50% of the children were well below their class and some who were in class V barely knew the class II curriculum. This shows once again the abysmal state of municipal schools in India’s capital city where children are made to pass from one class to the other irrespective of their knowledge till they reach secondary school where they often drop out.

It is sad to see that nothing is really being done to address the situation and take on remedial measures. It is almost as if no one was really interested in educating the poorest of the poor. This is the reality in a country that is poised to celebrate sixty years of Independence and where education is a constitutional right of each and every child.

cameos of another life..

Recent days have seen a plethora of disturbing images flashed across our TV screens: a 17 year old boy gets beaten to death by his teacher for not sitting properly; 5 disabled men consume poison in public as they lose their source of livelihood; a one day old baby is found in a garbage dump with multiple stab wounds, to name but a few.

These make good copy and TRP rates for the media. They appear for a day or so and then are replaced by other images as the show must go on. In most cases they entail a few shocked reactions are then are forgotten.

However if one chose to ponder a while, one realised that each incident carries within it a disturbing reality that shows the endemic problems that exist in our society and are often the rule rather than the exception. They are cameos of the everyday life of millions of invisible Indians and reflect the plight of poverty, government apathy and many other ailments that plague our society.

It is true that the media reports them for their own purposed but that does not absolve us of the right to take note and react in an appropriate and humane manner.

equal in justice

The sentencing of Sanjay Dutt yesterday once again renewed one’s faith in the rule of law. As the court drama enfolded on TV channels one did tend to feel a surge of sympathy for the actor who has endeared himself in recent times as the genial Munabhai and quite frankly one did hope that he would get the probation he sought.

But as the first words of the judgement were heard one realised that in the ultimate analysis justice needs to prevail and the rule of law has to be respected. What Sanjay Dutt did was indeed a very serious offence and could not be overlooked. Imagine if the same had been done by an ordinary citizen: the very people who were busy trying to find loopholes for SD would have been the first ones to nod their approval to maximum punishment for the culprit.

One has to admire the judge who rose above all emotion and sentimentality and pronounced a just sentence, one that will send the right message to all those who may want to take the law in their hands.

Fame of any kind, or power or money cannot give people the licence to do as they please. It is important for each one of us to know that ultimately the law will catch up with anyone who dares take it in his own hand.

the silence is killing

the silence is killing

A few minutes back an email from a dear friend entitled: the silence is killing dropped by my mailbox.

It is true that it has been over 20 days since I last wrote a post. The reason: a nasty viral flu that got the better of me.

The last three weeks were spent between bouts of high fever and waves of exhaustion as I waited impatiently for the clock to strike four as that is when the girls got back from pwhy with the news of the day.

July has been a hectic month a pwhy with three dynamic young volunteers who have infused their own brand of charm in more ways than one: brand new activities in the special section thanks to Lucy, a dose of vitality at the somewhat slow Okhla centre courtesy Firdaush and new ways of learning at Govindpuri with Xiong.

4pm became the highlight of each day as the girls and the three volunteers sat around me and shared the spoils of the day: young Komal barely 10 months old now holds a pencil, the special kids made a scrumptious fruit salad, the new centre at Sanjay colony has over 70 kids now and so much more.

As I sat every afternoon getting the news of the day, I felt a sense of pride as I saw that pwhy had somewhat come of age and could carry on without my daily presence.

all grown up

all grown up


It is always with a tinge of sadness that a parent sees his child walk out of the parental home with confidence and determination. And yet it is something every wishes for its child and strives for.

Seven years ago, when we seeded project why, our dream was to one day see simple illiterate or semi-literate parents understand that education was an inherent part of their children’s future. That is when we set out to show then how and empower them.

It is true that the objective we set for ourselves was to contain drop out rates and enhance the school performance of slum kids, and it is also true that that what we often set forth as a measure of our success, but the dream loomed in our minds and we surreptitiously worked towards it, something forgetting that its fulfillment would mean our having to move away. And being human, we somehow found hard to accept that reality, and hence turned a blind eye to many glaring hints.

But how long could we ignore the writing on the wall? The number of kids in our Tilak Khand centre was lessening and many children now stated proudly that they had extra tuition classes ( some often give by our ex-students), and the setting up of 3 NGOs in a place where once not so long ago there was none, said it all. Our dream had come true gently but without any doubt. It was time to move to greener pastures or in our case to another slum where children and parents needed us.

Sanjay Colony was the chosen location and the availability of a small two floor jhuggi made the transition almost immediate. The new centre opened on July 5th and in just one day there were already 40 children!

Somehow we felt all grown up!