by Anuradha Bakshi | Oct 20, 2006 | utpal
Utpal is back home for his diwali break. I went to fetch him ins school and was amazed by the survivor spirit this child has. As the road was being dug up we had a long walk before reaching the gates of the school. En route I was stopped by many big boys who asked him “you have come for Utpal, he is a great kid”.
My heart filled with pride as I realised that this little fellow who had nothing but the god of little persons on his side, had set up his network in school, a network that transcended age, social divides and more. From the kind faced gateman to the dining room staff, to the remote class XII seniors notwithstanding the principal, the warden and the teachers, Utpal knows them all.
As we walked away we had to stop many a times as Utpal was hugged, taken in waiting arms, and patted on the back. We waited in the wings, sharing his much deserved moment of glory, our thoughts going back to the little bundle of pain that had walked into our hearts just 3 years back.
Yes he is a survivor and a perfect role model for us, as we battle our demons and try and keep pwhy going, as he proves that nothing in life is hopeless or doomed.
If we can do it, then we have to.
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by Anuradha Bakshi | Oct 5, 2006 | utpal
I have been busy making memories for Utpal. You may wonder why. When I look back at the past six years, the one success story that I would like remembered is that of this little braveheart.
I sometimes wonder what could have happened if pwhy had not been around for this child. The worst case scenario: he would have died. At best he would have survived with deep scars on both body and mind. His drunk parents may or may not have sent him to school as fees money often feeds bad habits. And maybe one day someone would have realised that his scarred body could be used to arouse pity and hence get few pennies.
Utpal who as I write these words is somewhere in my home playing, is now in a boarding school and in two tiny months he has been transformed. one year down the line he will speak English and a few years down the line may top his class and then who knows.
His mom is in her fifth month of recovery, his sister safe in a residential programme and maybe one day we will help them rebuild a real home. the father or what goes by that name still drinks and lurks hoping to get some money from us.
Utpal’s story is what in my mind is a miracle and would make the worst cynic believe in something larger than life.
there are many disturbing questions that will come in his little mind as he grows and I have been busy making memories for him as I may not be there to fill in the blanks and tell him the truth. And as I set down putting those memories together I found myself setting out on a new journey, one where I traveled inwards trying to make sense of life itself by seeking life’s bare bones and trying to extract in Rabelaisian words “its substantific marrow”. And in doing so I stumbled on a world replete with simple things that transcend space and time making you fall in love one last time with life itself. I called it the wisdom of twilight years.
This little book is called “dear Popples.. with love Maam’ji” will stand in for all the memories that Utpal may need when he is a big man.
My dream is to see it published, otherwise it will be placed next to my Will, quietly waiting for its rightful owner.
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by Anuradha Bakshi | Oct 3, 2006 | utpal
When I was a little girl and something I could not comprehend or did not like happened, my father would always talk of the larger picture, the one only God could see and tell me that we only saw a tiny part of it and therefore could not understand its relevance. I must confess that at that time And it took care of the pain, I guess it had a lot to do with the way he said it!
Later I must confess it is a trick I often used to deal with many problems I encountered. But there were times when things were so bad that the big picture explanation was not sufficient. One of the tings I have always found very hard to accept is the incomprehensible pain that one sees inflicted on children, and least of all their untimely death.
Today we had the visit of two lovely people Jean Bernard and Marie who set up a trust in the memory of Leila Fodil a little 3 year old who came to them with advanced blood cancer and who lived in their home till the illness took her two years down the line.
As we were walking back from one project site it struck me that children like Leila or our very own Utpal come to earth as part of the larger picture, to fulfill some wondrous plan that Mister God had. Leila’s brief and agonising little tryst with life and Utpal’s traumatic survival have been the cause for so much good, so many people who should have never met have actually bonded to reach out to many little souls in need of help.Call them angels or old souls, they are blessed as they come for a purpose that we cannot at first see but that slowly unfolds itself and leaves even the most cynical believing in something greater…
Looking back at the seven years project why has been in existence, I can say with some conviction and pride that it is a place where angel do not fear to tread.
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by Anuradha Bakshi | Sep 23, 2006 | utpal
It is appalling how adults use kids. Before little Utpal went to school a posse of family and relatives took advantage of all the goodies provided.
It is but obvious that one could not help him at home without including the others, directly or indirectly. A ceiling fan bought to ensure that he did not play with live wires provided breeze to everyone.
Now with Utpal safely in school and his mom well into recovery and at the doorstep of a new life, the bunch of profiteers that include innumerable new aunts and uncles and surrogate parents decided to use half-sister Durga.
So a man who is not a father suddenly discovers paternal feelings and send the poor child to get the pennies needed for his next bottle, and when she does not get them resorts to beating her on the streets.
Even I, who normally find to seek in some recess of my mind ways to condone almost everything found this behavior unforgivable. So Durga too goes to a residential programme where I hope she will make up for lost years and before someone realises that she is almost a woman and could be sold!
All this is extremely disturbing as when caretakers become predators no child is safe.
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by Anuradha Bakshi | Sep 10, 2006 | utpal
When Kim called a few week back to say he wanted to feature project why in his The Strait Times, I was surprised wondering what I had done to receive such an honour. I must confess that in the days preceding his arrival, I spent many hours wondering whether we would meet his expectations.
Kim landed with his photographer Fen and his warm smile was enough to set my mind to rest. It was a warm Sunday morning where we had to drive miles to meet little Utpal, and then go to a baby christening in the slum. As the day went by I knew that I had met another person who saw with his heart and that he would able to see project why as it should be seen.
Never mind the garbage dump in lieu of class rooms or the rather makeshift structure that we work in, Kim and Fen caught the love and passion that infuse our work, the smile of the special children as they dance and sing with abandon, the mischief of the boys who know that project why is the only place where they can claim their childhood and the hospitality of the humble rickshaw driver as he proudly serves them tea in his home.
We talked, or rather I talked and he listened, sometimes taking notes as I poured out my dreams, my hopes, shared my achievements and my failures not withholding anything as I knew that there was no need of pretending or shying about anything.
As I write these words, I have not seen what Kim wrote but the number of mails that have dropped in my mailbox and moved me to tears, are proof enough of the fact that the magic of Kim’s words has been the best ambassador of my dreams.
Click here to discover some of the heartwarming messages from Singapore
Read Kim’s story Suffer not little children here
by Anuradha Bakshi | Aug 28, 2006 | utpal
Look at this picture, at first glance it may seem to be just two people and a child posing in front of the Birla temple in Delhi, India’s capital city, nothing to write home about.
Look again and let me tell you the incredible bonds that underlie this picture. In normal circumstances these three should not be posing together. In our carefully crafted society replete with labels, and hermetic boxes the three belong to worlds that should never meet, let alone bond!
A on the right of your screen is an IIT engineer with a job in a multinational who should have been spending Sunday with his pals at some multiplex or mall. The man on the left is R, barely literate who drives a three wheeler and belongs to some backward and boorish village in the state of Bihar, and the kid, well is labels are confused, his mother a recovering drunk and his ancestry not quite defined. You may wonder what they are doing, and why they are looking happy and content. Some cynical mind may even venture to say that this is part of some marginal film script?
Well that is far from the truth. Amit , Radhey and popples spent their Sunday together, and had a ball. They took a metro ride, visited the temple had a great lunch, all part of Utpals monthly day out from his boarding school.
This is the India pwhy is trying to create, even if it goes down in recorded history as snapshots like this one. An India were bonds are made out of love and mutual respect. In this equation it is difficult to define who has given more, the child to the two adults of vice versa. Radhey and Amit who in today’s India should have never talked to each other, or at best exchanged a few innuendoes had A’s bike broken down and R given him a ride, have learnt to respect each other because of their bond to little utpal whose life has touched so many shattering boxes and discarding labels at the speed of light.
If i were to disappear today, this simple snapshot would have made my life worthwhile
