by Anuradha Bakshi | May 12, 2007 | Uncategorized
Little Kiran has survived all her admission woes and is now in a new school. She is special for all of us at project why as it was the day she was born that our work at Giri Nagar began. Right from the beginning she has been part of us and grown with us.
Since she was a little girl Kiran has always bonded with the kids of our special section and spends most of her free time with them. She knows how to handle each one of them and they all love her. She can be firm and kind and even helps the teachers when needed.
So it was no surprise when she announced that as she was on summer holiday, she would spend her day in that class and asked us whether she could lead the morning gym sequence. How could we refuse! It was touching to see the seriousness with which this little 7 year old handled the 20 minutes programme, coaxing and cajoling each one to give his or her best in spite of their handicaps. Toe touching, and jumping jacks, stretching and jogging, she did not leave out anything. And her class did not let her down, as they performed better then ever.
The deaf, the dumb, the mentally challenged and the physically handicapped, the autistic and the spastic everyone bonded with this remarkable child and had a whale of a time. There were no differences, no judging the other, no looking down at; all one could see was a bunch of kids ranging from the age of 6 to 30 enjoying a very special moment.
Another instance of the magic of project why!
by Anuradha Bakshi | May 12, 2007 | Uncategorized
There is a new blog about the comings and goings of project why. Khabar why ki was launched some time back hesitantly by our incomparable duo Shamika and Rani. After a slow beginning it as now taken off in style.
Khabar why ki is a blog in roman Hindi and shares in a candid way the daily events that occur at project why. It offers a different view as it comes almost from the horse’s mouth. I hope many of you will drop and encourage this new enterprise.
by Anuradha Bakshi | May 10, 2007 | Uncategorized
Meet our new teachers: Azad and Pinku Kumar. At first glance they look like many of te young teachers we have but that is not quite so.
Azad and Pinku Kumar are our old students who have just sat for their XI Boards. Knowing their track record they will pass with high marks as they always have.
They are both from very poor families. Azad’s father drives an auto rickshaw and he is the eldest of many siblings. For the past years they have topped their class and helped many other students in their studies. So when we fell short of teachers the choice was foregone as once again this has been part of the great project why dream.
It was a huge moment when I saw them standing in their smart shirts, a little nervous but full of confidence and hope. Azad who is excellent in maths will teach class VI and VII and Pinku Kumar will teach the primary section at Giri Nagar. They will initially be trainee teachers, but knowing them I am sure they will soon be able to work independently.
As I watched them this morning, I knew that in spite of the odds we have had to face time and again, it had been an incredible journey.
by Anuradha Bakshi | May 8, 2007 | Uncategorized
Once again I borrow the title of one of my favourite Neruda poems. The need for this post is based on a call from a dear friend and supporter who was a bit perplexed at what what happening at project why. I guess his doubt came from the posts like this one, and could have given the impression that we were stopping our activities as they stood today.
Far from that, project why as it stands today- 2 early education programmes, 4 primary education programmes, 1 day care for special children, 1 secondary programme and 1 computer centre – is thriving and will continue to do so as long as no outside factors come its way.
The thoughts shared on several blogs of late about planet why was because of some issues that one cannot afford to play down. One is the likelihood of seeing many of the slums we work in relocated prior to the Commonwealth games coupled with the sometimes incomprehensible sealing laws; the other is the need to plan a long term sustainability effort that is in tune with the demands of the market forces and in consonance with our abilities and skill, and last but not the least is the long term responsibility we have towards some of our more fragile wards in the light of a quasi absence of state run residential programmes for such forsaken souls.
Keeping in mind the possibility of seeing our nine centres scattered one fie day we have also begun a gentle transfer of power which began with an unlikely gift I asked my staff. The idea was to make them aware of their own capabilities and then teach them slowly how to manage and administer their own centres. This would come useful if and when our centres are dispersed in many directions as part of the Delhi shining campaign.
The sustainability issue I presume is self-evident as one has to set pwhy on a long time auto pilot course some day. I would also enable us to widen our activities and reach out to more children
by Anuradha Bakshi | May 8, 2007 | Uncategorized
Just when you think that you have got it all in place, that you have achieved the quasi impossible, that it is time to make grandiose plans for the future and that you can bask in your so-called glory, you are dealt with a blow that calls you to order.
This picture was taken just a month or so ago and it seemed that we had finally come to rest as Utpal’s shattered family was finally reunited in one place after a long battle.His mom and sister looked happy and he had a place to come back to for his holidays.
Was it just a week ago that he had come home for a few hours and we had planned all the things he would take with is him for his summer holidays that he was to spend with his little family. And the glint in his eyes each time we mentioned his mummy was heartbreaking. Was hubris that made me see only what I wanted and ignore the rest. How did I forget the insidious ways of the enemy we had fought. How did I not see Utpal’s mom disturbed look. How did I miss what was silently screaming to be seen. How did I forget the hold alcohol had on the spirit and the soul of its victims.
Yesterday a frantic call from the place she is in shattered the very foundation of the life we had so painfully created. Utpal’s mom had spend two days at a hospital caring for a sick child, and somehow her small foray into an unprotected world had awoken the demons of her sordid past. From that moment onwards her restlessness had increased. Too fragile to be able to handle the situation and not having a support group she became aggressive and threatening. The caretakers of the place she is in ran scarred and delivered the ultimate sentence; she could not stay there any longer.
We were at a loss. Where could she go where she wuld be safe. The concerted advise was tha she needed another stay in a home where he could be counselled and protected. Well there are not many such places in Delhi. It was suggested that she go to a place in another state where such facilities exist. But then how would her son meet her?
That is where we stand today. Will we find a place for her as all other options would be pushing her back into the hell of her past?
What is heartrending is that that deep down she wants to rebuild her life. The truth is that the power of alcohol is deep seated and she cannot fight this alone. The truth is that a woman who drinks is shunned by all. But the truth also is that she did not ask for such a life and that she was a victim of circumstances.
Before anyone asks why I cannot bring her home, the answer is simple: my home is intimately linked to her past; that most of those who work or come by are from the very place where she lived her dark days and where predators lurk.
We will set out today to look for solutions and hope we find one.
by Anuradha Bakshi | May 7, 2007 | Uncategorized
This morning a neighbour of Mehajabi came by. Actually he was the man who had first brought her to us. He had come to collect the precious receipts that would ensure that the child was operated. After collecting the two pieces of paper and listening to the instructions, he lingered on for a while, hesitant to say what he wanted to.
I asked him what the mater was and he said shoved some medical papers in my hand and mumbled some inaudible words. This is his story..
Two years ago he lived in a village in Bihar where he eked a living as a daily wage labourer. He has a tiny plot of land and a little house. Life would have carried on were it not for his wife’s sudden loss of hearing. Local medical facilities being non-existent, he decided to come to Delhi in the hope of getting his wife cured. In Delhi he rented a tiny hovel and started his life as a daily wage labourer in earnest. He also set out get his wife treated but soon discovered that each day spent at the government hospital was one without work and the treatment was taking forever as he was sent from pillar to post.
After some time the comings and goings got the better of the little family as there were four children that needed to be carted each time and the loss of income was too much to bear. The wife too took on a job and life went on. But the ear ailment worsened. The wife’s employer decided to ‘help’ and sent the wife to a local specialist. She paid part of the treatment but then left for another city. The wife was ‘operated’ upon and given a huge prescription of expensive medicines. Part of the doctor’s bill still needed to be paid and the man borrowed and paid the same. But no money was left for the medication and the wife never went back to the doctor.
This was two weeks ago, and the man was at his wit’s end as infection had set in, the landlord not been paid and the family in danger of being homeless. He had come to ask for help.
A quick glance at the medical papers he carried showed that they did not even state what kind of surgery had been performed. We took him to our local doctor who referred him to a ENT specialist and we will try and ensure that she gets treated.
There must be many like this family who come to the city and get caught in an infernal spiral. They leave their roots and home to seek better medical help but soon find themselves worse they were in a inhospitable big city that is ready to devour them. As they try to survive, they sink deeper into debt. Some turn to alcohol, others gamble, and still others take their frustration out on their helpless families.
Welcome to the world of medical tourism of another kind.
