What's my work about?

It’s about telling little kids to wash their hands frequently, and feeling humbled as I find out their mothers need to walk long distance to get even one bucket of water.

It’s about telling slum kids not to play in the dirt and slime all around them, and having them cheekily ask “…and where else should we play?”

It’s about finding out kids can play with almost anything. Even dead puppies in blocked drains.

It’s about having a three year old look you in the eye and firmly assert, “Superman is a mode of transport, because if I was to ask him to take me to school, he would”.

It’s about having a child ask you “My mother died. Do you think she will come back?”, and wondering where your integrity, that you are so proud of, disappeared so suddenly.

It’s about telling mothers to feed their children nutritious foods, and knowing from their expressions that they probably eat just once a day.

It’s about telling a kid that a dental exam won’t hurt, and having the kid ask you, “Are you saying it won’t hurt you, or it won’t hurt me?”

It’s about watching a child drink a glass of milk, and knowing it has been a long, long time since that child tasted milk.

It’s about having a kid tell you, “And, how do you know for sure that twenty two comes after twenty one? My mother says you shouldn’t believe everything you hear.”

It’s about having a grim faced mother walk up to you and say, “You’ve added to all my household chores”, and when I look surprised, she adds “My child refuses to come to school without taking a bath, and so I’ve to drop everything and fetch water for her, or she refuses to come to school”. And then watch her smile proudly.

It’s about learning to share from a teen, who slips a used, old bracelet on your wrist, and says he borrowed it from his girlfriend who is standing behind him smiling shyly, and you’re hit by the realization that you have nothing as precious to gift in return.

It’s about watching a mother cry, because she never though her child would be good enough to recite an English rhyme. And telling her that, God willing, some day her child would speak better English than I do, and watch her look at me in new hope.

It’s about discovering that the truth is not that these kids have a better future because of the work I do. But, rather, that I am a better person today because I work for these kids.

My great dream of spending a pleasant few minutes posting shattered a few minutes ago. But, post I will, though admittedly it isn't going to be a pleasant one.

As a non-profit working with children, one of the areas we work in is a slum area in Delhi. We run a very tiny preschool program for a group of 50 kids. After a year of working, we evaluated the progess of the kids, and were so excited to find the kids show tremendous improvement in their development milestones. And, as with all kids, it is such a pleasure to watch them grow. The parents love the program. Last week, I conducted a mock "exam " for the kids, where they had to recite nursery rhymes and alphabets for me. The idea was just to see if they had the confidence to speak up and also of course, how much they learned. We invited parents too, so that they could see their child's progress. The event was a big success from all perspectives - the mothers were in tears to see their kids speak in English - Johnny, Johnny was every kid's favorite poem. And I was amused by the howlers - I asked one kid what his name was, and when he responded correctly, I asked him his mother's name. He gave me almost a pitying look and said "Mummy", in a tone that implied, "Which planet do you live on?". Another kid said "Twinkle twinkle little star, eating sugar, yes papa". Kids are awesome.

Parents did their best to convince us to keep the kids with us, instead of enrolling them in the local goverment school. Of course, since our objective is to send the kids to school, we keep repeating that our "school" is just a preparatory one. Admissions began in the school this week, and tomorrow we were scheduled to take the first group of kids for admission. Parents were still unconvinced - they keep relating stories of how teachers don't teach, and that the kids would forget all that they had learned in the past year etc etc.

And then into this happy bubble of community politics, today happened. Our Program Manager called to tell me that at the local school, a teacher beat up a child so badly that she died. That sounds inhuman in itself, but the real story is that the child was sick, didn't do her homework, and the teacher made her bend forward, placed a load of bricks on her back, and kept hitting her, till she had a brain haemorrhage.

Of course, this isn't the first time this has happened in an Indian school. But, what shocks me is that this is the capital city, and look at how underdeveloped we are. What also shocks me is the attitude of the lower middle class, vis-a-vis the slumdwellers. Previously when I visited the school a few months ago, the principal said "I don't know why you waste your time - these people cannot be improved". Of course I told him I didn't share his opinion, but he just laughed indulgently, suggesting I clearly had miles to go before I grow up. At that time it had struck me pretty hard that our small preschool program is not going to be enough. When they are with us, the kids live in this happy, secure bubble. The school is where they get their first taste of the real world. And, then making a vague mental resolve that sometime in the future, we needed to work on sensitizing the schools in the area, the interests of the other 200,000 kids I work for, took precedence over these 50 kids.

The area is in a riot situation, and other than the direct implications of this on the girl and her family, and the school, our parents have simply refused to admit their kids in school, now. More importantly, what a waste of life.

lyrics. My way al la TDH

I have a CD compiled with my way and strangers in the night repeating again and again ..
my colleague and I belt the song out in loud though not always melodious tones.. during our commute to work.

to see the REAL THING ---

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=sEbgB6X6S5c


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legal disclaimer ...THIS SONG IS COPYRIGHT FRANK SINATRA .OR WHO EVER OWNS the copy right
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And now, the end is near;
And so I face the final curtain.
My friend, Ill say it clear,
Ill state my case, of which Im certain.

Ive lived a life thats full.
Ive traveled each and evry highway;
And more, much more than this,
I did it my way.

Regrets, Ive had a few;
But then again, too few to mention.
I did what I had to do
And saw it through without exemption.

I planned each charted course;
Each careful step along the byway,
But more, much more than this,
I did it my way.

Yes, there were times, Im sure you knew
When I bit off more than I could chew.
But through it all, when there was doubt,
I ate it up and spit it out.
I faced it all and I stood tall;
And did it my way.

Ive loved, Ive laughed and cried.
Ive had my fill; my share of losing.
And now, as tears subside,
I find it all so amusing.

To think I did all that;
And may I say - not in a shy way,
No, oh no not me,
I did it my way.

For what is a man, what has he got?
If not himself, then he has naught.
To say the things he truly feels;
And not the words of one who kneels.
The record shows I took the blows -
And did it my way!

Valentine's Day

A friend called up to wish me a happy Val's day. When I expressed surprise at her belief in "all this mumbo jumbo" at our ripe old age, she said that for us single folks, our valentines are our friends, since our lives are intrinsically linked with theirs. Of course, it was hard to disagree. So, I'd like to dedicate my very first post on my very first blog to the three buddies (BhagPaps AKA BP counts for two) that I am privileged to share it with. Both of you, who also happen to be the only two people reading this blog, have been so much a part of my dubious past that I cannot even remember life without you! Nor would I want too. And to you I owe many good things in life, including Hot Chocolate Fudge - both, the dessert and the blog :-)


BP - congrats on the brand new baby! TDH - who's got your hotel keys now?

Remembering the old songs

I was trying to recall the Jeeves song...and lots of them which were favourites during school and college...... Last I bought an album was some bryan adams.... have forgotten what it sounds like.. guys we can post songs on our blog and make a collection of them.... what say u..... favourite songs collection

25 - 26 Jan

25 Jan was St. Sebastian's Feast at Dilshad Garden, quite a day, mass, procession, volunteering for serving lunch..... remembered the days at Yuvodaya.....relived that experience of serving rice to almost 200 people at my counter...... 1500 people in all......

26 Jan - watched Republic Day Parade after a gap of 4 years!!.....nice feeling......

Aur bhag paps and Mustapha.... what are upto......

c'est parti !!!!

in nomine Patris, et Filii, et Spiritus Sancti.


the first step ....of a 1000 post journey..

Amen