The US Trip

30 days. 1^st November to 1^st December. What a trip it has been. It was a rush when I started the trip and it took every ounce of my energy and sought every spare bead of motivation I have ever had in me. It demanded the very best from me at all times and pushed me to my mental, physical and emotional limits. Landed in Cleveland after a gruelling 24 hour journey and without even time to overcome my jetlag, I was all set for my first set of meetings with a Prof. From a college and a presentation to a group of 10-14 years at a local school. Wow! That's a beginning I thought. Next, College of Wooster – A beautiful college set in the small town of Wooster, meetings with professors, classes, networking with the administration, public talks, and dinners and finally ending up with a lunch with the BIG People of Cleveland. Managed to even squeeze in a quick tour of the college, watching a field hockey game, doing a ropes course and even going to the Village of the very weirdly popular Amish. Prof. Moledina deserves a big thank you for getting me to the US and ensuring I managed to start my trip with a Bang! 

A weekend in Milwaukee with lovely friends (Prashanth  & Misha), which involved just a whole lot of driving to Chicago and everywhere else, getting introduced to WII and Netflix, spending Diwali with them and their family and off I was to Boston. The highlight was getting to eat authentic South Indian food downed with the very own, very popular Dil Pasand which one can only get in a local Iyengar Bakery in Bangalore and here I was gorging on it in Milwaukee.

Boston – My favourite city no doubt and Arjun Dugal had set the stage for me. Meetings, lots of them, Talks – quite a few of them, even a session for a class at Harvard and a very successful Dream Evening to moot. Interspersed with a night of clubbing until the wee hours of morning, I knew I was pushing my limits. The large fundraising Gala was an eye-opener with the wealth that existed in the Indian Diaspora and also reflections on the "Dance of the Wealth" – Why the wealthy give only when they spend a lot and a lot more to raise that money. 

The homeless on the streets surprised me, wanted to talk to each of them and come up with an idea to get them off the streets. The public libraries amused me as they were mostly filled with the homeless escaping the bitter cold outside and getting some warm place to sleep. I wondered if a country like America even deserved the homeless on the streets and wondered how societies across the world continue to be insensitive to the needs of their own communities in their backyards. 

A panel discussion on Startup Leadership had me standing alone on the ethics of entrepreneurial ventures amidst talks of VC funding, buy-outs, becoming millionaires and finding cofounders through a scientific formula connected to valuations. I sat there, wondering whatever happened to trusting someone to start something new with you, whatever happened to the love for a new idea, for solving a problem, for creating a world-class business, for creating a legacy. Whatever happened to the "Pursuit of Greatness" that prompted great human beings to embark on risky businesses staking their all? 

Spending time with Year Up, Peace First, and Big Brother-Big Sister Program was a validation of the depth of quality and thought that we had in our work with children. 5 years back when I attempted to meet BBBS, we were too small for them and they didn't want to meet us. This time around, they wanted to learn from us and this was validation of the work we have put in to make our programs truly world-class. Year-up was a program that spoke to me from the heart, it had DreamConnect all over it and I believed this is the program that the youth in India strongly needed and needed fast. 

I was truly humbled by the support that Arjun, Neha, Aman, Karina, Aamir, Mike gave – from helping me build connections, helping me meet people and for just looking out for me and ensuring I was well taken care of. Especially Arjun and Neha, who worked all day and spent all evening coming for meetings with me, discussing ideas with me, giving me strategies and also making me smile. I remember Arjun and myself walking out of the Harvard class and while we were both physically very tired, there was a jump in our step, a pride in our gait and as we looked at each other we smiled and acknowledged the journey that we have embarked upon with 10 others and where that journey had taken our dream. We felt proud, happy and content. We graciously accepted each other's acknowledgement. 

I have to mention Raj Melville – The man, the connector – He sent out nearly 20-25 emails introducing me to people all over the US and getting me meetings from anyone to everyone. He reached out and told me, you are doing well, keep doing it and we will stand by you. 

I was still reeling under the after-effects of Boston and DC hit me with a vengeance. The people in DC were all out to prove to me that DC can do better than Boston and they came very very close to beating Boston. A Brown Bag at Global Giving, Global Fund for Children and Ashoka was all that was needed to get me going again. Starting at 6 am, my first day in DC went on till 1 am and that set the trend for the rest of the week. A panel discussion with 2 other Ashoka Fellows for the staff of Ashoka was enough to send me on a nostalgic, emotionally charged, reflective journey of my life as a leader, as an individual and as a social entrepreneur. The panel had a 32-year old me, a 40-year old and a 50-year old and what fascinated me was how our journeys have been so similar and how uncannily we had to meet today, now when we were going through the same reflections and questions with our inner self. 

Another super successful Dream Evening thanks to Raj and Smita Trivedi who went out of their way to make it happen for Dream A Dream in less than a week. It was phenomenal to see how people would turn up at the end of a busy work-day just because they believed, they wanted to help and support. What's more, I also ran into an old-timer from Dream A Dream and suddenly felt very much at home with her support by my side. DC would not have happened without the support of Raj and Smita, my angels and Roshan who so graciously gave me his place to stay and Usha – a very special person who I connected with on Food, Travel and community work. When she was keen to show me the sights of DC, I told her – I want to understand why there is poverty here and what is one doing to change things. She took me to a Central Kitchen where families come to feed the poor and homeless. Good, cooked, healthy food. Families serve the homeless and also sit with them; children included, and eat the same food. While, I was humbled with seeing this sensitivity, I came away very disturbed thinking, If I ever had to beg for good, live on the streets, eat from a central kitchen – would I be able to? Is there dignity in poverty? Do we continue to let poverty exist and thrive so we can feel important and worthy about ourselves? 

DC was also a place for some old connections, meeting an old-time Dream A Dream volunteer, reconnecting with Ashoka and its inspiring staff, meeting an old school-mate whom I had not met for 16 years and reconnecting with old friends from the US. Food was big on the agenda in DC as I tried Ethiopian, experimented with Japanese and Chinese new cuisine, Spanish tapas and Sangria and the super traditional American Chilli Hot Dog and finally finishing off with a traditional all American brunch. Managed to capture an interactive play called "Shear Madness" at the renowned Kennedy Center before I dashed off the San Jose on the West Coast.

San Jose was completely unlike DC or Boston, a small town set amidst mountains in a beautiful valley; it was stunningly beautiful but completely inaccessible without your own transport. Guneet Singh Bedi was my knight in shining armour taking me to all my meetings and being the man-Friday ensuring it was worth my while to have travelled thousands of miles. He went out of his way to again open doors for me with interested companies, individuals, and also a talk at Berkeley. This was interspersed with meeting an old AIESEC friend and her lovely 2-month old bundle of joy, meeting old Dream A Dream volunteers, spending the thanksgiving evening at the only open Indian restaurant and staying up all night for the infamously popular Black Friday sale after Thanksgiving.

I had also come to my journey's end and also my strength was giving way. The sense of wanting to be back in India amongst friends, colleagues and family was creeping in, the overbearing realization that the work has just started and I need to very quickly follow-up on all my meetings to ensure we don't lose the momentum and that there was a lot I had to remember about my trip was completely over-whelming me. I forgot to call a few people I was supposed to meet, I forgot a scheduled meeting and I was sleeping less and less. Guneet came to my rescue with some amazing drives in his classic convertible and a day spent amongst wineyards at the very stunning Napa Valley trying out different kinds of wines. It helped me relax my senses and let go for a day. 

It was time to go back. But, not yet. My last leg was supposed to be a winding down 3-days with friends and family at Milwaukee and Chicago. Ended up being super hectic with catching up on work from India and more meetings at Chicago. A visit to Kellog School of Management for a potential partnership and a final push presentation at Asha, Chicago is all that my soul could take and I was done!! Catching with a Dream A Dream first employee - a very dear personal friend and an inspiring colleague; spending time with cousins and their adorable 4 yr old was just what the doctor had ordered to ensure I survive the last 2 days. 

The trip has been that of a breakneck speed juggernaut, of not letting go of opportunities, of reaching out to people, of sharing a dream – a million times over and of going back to believing in what I have always believed in. People across the world are wonderful and want to help; all it takes is to reach out with honesty and with your heart. 

It has been a tough one-month but I feel blessed that even across the seas, there are people who believe in what we do, who believe in us and who really want to reach out in their own ways – small and big. My body feels battered, my mind is numb but my spirit seems rekindled with the "Power of One"! Sometimes, when I have felt empty inside or lonely, I look back at the people who have being with me through this whole month and I don't feel alone again. I feel blessed! Thank you all who made this happen.

A Remarkable Volunteer - Bhasker Sharma

Why am I an Entrepreneur

Last week, I was invited to be a speaker and a panelist at Startup Leadership in Boston. Startup Leadership supports entrepreneurs just starting out with mentoring, access to Venture Capital, etc. The discussions were generally around startup journeys, challenges, managing founder expectations, funding, etc. I was the only non-business guy in the room and kept wondering what value-add can I bring to this strongly tech oriented start-up group. I went with the flow anyway.

Somewhere during the panel discussion, the topic moved towards the kind of people you would bring on board as a co-founder. Should she/he be a business development person or a technically sound person. Would you want a Phd or a MBA, What would the VCs like? What would bring in more business and better valuations? etc. Someone started talking about some mathematical matrix to choose the right blend of co-founders so the business gets the right valuations and money from the VC, etc. I tried very hard to concentrate and see merit in this very transactional process of setting up a start-up venture and I was totally confused. Finally, I had to voice what was going on in my head.

I said, "Why are we getting all transactional about this? Is this what setting a new venture about is? A mathematical formula. Setting up a business is like giving birth to and bringing up a baby; Its about bringing to light a spectacular idea you have of making the world a better place to live in. How can you just share this baby with someone over a mathematical formula. For me, a co-founder would be someone I would trust my life with completely because I want this person to stand by me in times of success and hardship. The first few years are going to be hard and if this person can trust me, and I can trust this person and we can get through the shit together, then she/he is a worthy co-founder. For me, that would be the single most important criteria to bring on a co-founder."

I am zapped that what seemed common sense to me, didn't even register to these entrepreneurs. A strange and albeit sad realization struck me. Most entrepreneurs today are setting up businesses to get venture capital money, push their valuations, sell their business and walk away. They are not interested in building a world class business and adding value to life. For me, starting something new has always come from a space of, I see a problem and I think I know how to solve it and I want to build a strong, robust and successful business around it and solve the problem. Its about looking back and saying, we created this business and because of this, the world is a much more better place. That as a value was sorely missing from most of the discussions.

It worried me that we can feeding into a system which only wants to profit oneself and is not looking to create any real value over the long-term. Are these the entrepreneurs we want to have in our eco-system. I am not sure! I am wondering what has changed and where have the true entrepreneurs got lost!!

Lessons for Experiential Learning from Slumdog Millionaire

Controversies apart, there was one aspect of the movie - Slumdog Millionaire which made me sit up and take notice. The backdrop of "Who wants to be a millionaire" and how each question took the protagonist into certain incidents, experiences and conversations in his past life which gave him the answers. There was the concept of "Experiential Learning" splattered all over this plot.

Based on my own childhood experiences and my experiences of work with children at Dream A Dream, I have always been a strong advocate of experiential learning. I have always believed that:

1. Children always learn in environments that are most natural to them.
2. We don't remember most of our childhood experiences but only those that have a profound impact on "Who we are"  and "What do we believe in"

As we breeze through the questions on the quiz show in the movie, we see how he was able to connect them to specific experiences in his life. How he remembered that the inventor of Pistol was Simon Colt because his brother used a Colt when he first had a gun or how he figured where Cambridge Circus was because of his work at a British Call Center, etc, etc.

This is experiential learning at its best. At Dream A Dream, we believe if we can convert every interaction with a child into an experience that will positively impact him for life, he/she will be able to use that learning all through their life. A child might not remember an algebra formula but will definitely remember the acknowledgement that he/she got when the teacher said, "Good Job" for solving an algebra problem. When the learning is wholesome which is when all our senses and our entire being experiences that learnings, that it becomes a learning for life. We remember how we felt, how our body felt, how our eyes sparkled or our face glowed when we have a life-changing experience and its that wholesomeness that makes it life-lasting.

The movie has tremendous learning for us educators about how children learn, experience and remember. Life is what happens outside the classroom so if we want our children to learn then we need to complement academic education with Life Skills and this is where the work of Dream A Dream becomes most relevant and important.

I would finally like to leave you with this comic strip that sums of the point I wish to drive home.

Nation Building

11 years at Dream A Dream and I often get asked this question. So, is it Dream A Dream for life or is there something beyond? I am sure many social entrepreneurs get asked this same question after a few years of their work in the sector. The answer is as difficult as it is easy.

I have spent 11 years in a dogged commitment to build an organization that stands for good, high-impact work; stands for child rights and child development; stands for transparency, accountability and collaboration; that stands for values of integrity and innovation; stands for creating a large scale dent on the issue of child development in the country. Build an organization that is truthful in its work and honest in admitting its limitations. An organization of passionate, high-quality individuals who want to see change happen in their life time.

We are still working on this. In that respect, my work is not yet over and 11 years seems like too short a time to achieve this vision. Along the way though, I realized building organizations is just the journey towards the larger purpose. The role of a social entrepreneur is never to build an organization though organizations are great vehicles for learning and nurturing.

A few years back, I asked myself this question - "Am I in Dream A Dream for life?". It took me quite a few years before I could comfortably and confidently say the following. Today, Dream A Dream has built an identity of its own. Its an entity in its own. It has its vision and strategies to get to that vision. It has established a pace of growth for itself and it is following its trajectory. A few years back, the organization's and my pace and trajectory were aligned. Today, fortunately, we have been able to create our independent identities. With everything I have learnt and done in the last few years, Dream A Dream has given me a larger goal, a larger cause to work for. Dream A Dream has been the stepping stone of this larger vision which would never have emerged if not for the grounded experience of building an organization and rallying support from all across.

So, if Dream A Dream is the stepping stone, what is this larger Vision? The answer came in what Bill Drayton, Founder of Ashoka said, "Social Entrepreneurs are not interested in giving fish, neither interested in teaching how to fish. They will not tire till they have changed the dynamics of the entire fishing industry."

So, the most natural progression for me as a social entrepreneur is to move from organization building to nation building. For, until we are able to influence policy at a national level and build a nation based on justice and equity, sustainable change is just a distant dream.

I asked this question to a bunch of social entrepreneurs over a late evening conversation at a conference. "So, isn't it a natural progression for a social entrepreneur to become a politician and influence policy change?" Yes was the unanimous answer but not for me. I was confused. Why not?

I was given a whole load of the most regular reasons around corruption, dynastic politics, its a dirty game, etc, etc. I stepped back and reflected - did any of these reasons stop us social entrepreneurs to be rebels and start the organizations we started for the causes we strongly believe in? Didn't we at some point, take that leap of faith and said, we will change this even though the whole world thinks we must be fools. Hasn't our success given us enough reason to now step-up and say, from working on a single cause, we need to now take up the cause of the nation. Why are we scared to take risks today? Is it because, we have got bogged down building our organizations that we don't have it in us to take on bigger challenges today?  Or are we just entrepreneurs?

I am not sure of the others but after that evening, I was very convinced that my natural progression from a social entrepreneur needs to be a Nation-Builder through the political route. We understand the ground realities, we have worked with communities, we are sensitive and intelligent. We are great risk-takers and we don't shy away from standing up for what is right. We are ethical and have based our life on integrity.

When enough of us, building social entrepreneurial organizations, have created the trajectory for our organizations, our natural next step becomes moving into the political arena. To make change happen across the country, to create policies that impact an entire nation, to build a model nation based on values of our constitution. I am convinced, at some point, we will reach a tipping point of an entire population of excellent social entrepreneurs becoming Nation Builders and then Poverty will be counting its days in this country.

The first ones have to take that step and failure is guaranteed. The first ones need to fail so that they can inspire an entire generation of young social entrepreneurs to take the same path and they will succeed.

If working to right a wrong has been our commitment for so many years through our organizations, it is time we take the challenge and right every wrong at the National level. After-all, isn't a nation also a mirror of an organization, just much larger.

I am committing to this path in the next 5 years. Are there others willing to join? I guarantee you failure and I also guarantee you an entire generation of success after us. Let's build a Nation together!

Where is dignity?

Over the last few days. I have been fervently following the news related to the 28 deaths in the Beggars Rehabilitation Colony in Bangalore. As one digs deeper, one begins to see the inhuman conditions these people have been kept in and as one reporter pointed out, almost akin to a concentration camp. Concentration camp? Did I hear that right? Are we in a state of emergency? Are these people dangerous? No. Then, why are they subjected to such inhuman conditions. It is horrifying to hear some of the stories that are coming out from various news reports. A woman lying dead in her own blood and excreta http://www.deccanherald.com/content/90516/death-not-leveller-here.html. Dead individuals being dumped unceremoniously in the nearby crematorium. http://www.deccanherald.com/content/90510/dumped-alive-crematorium.html.

The beggars fighting with each other to go in the van to cremate their dead companions because they can get scramble around in the garbage for some edible food at the crematorium left by other visitors or at the first opportunity available attempt to run to save their lives. Isn't the rehab center meant to help them get out of the inhuman conditions on the streets and give them a life of dignity. Isn't it ironic that they need to run away from the rehab centre to actually protect their dignity. Isn't it surprising that they should feel that the streets are safer?

There have been reports of lack of bedding, warm blankets and sufficient toilet facilities. People are made to sleep on the cold floor, there is only one attending doctor for over 2500 inmates and most of them are not taken to the hospital for treatment because they are sufficient staff and staff who are there couldn't care less. The facility has a capacity for 900 individuals and over 2500 individuals have been cramped together. There aren't sufficient cooking utensils available to serve food. The food is served by piling up rice on the floor. Reports have pointed out that the buttermilk had dead bugs and mosquitoes floating in them and the inmates are served only one meal a day.

There has also been speculation around organ removal and smuggling when inmates are taken to the hospital for treatments and then they are dumped in the crematorium to rot and die. Out of the 286 deaths recorded in the last one year, all of them have been shown as natural deaths. Isn't this unbelievably surprising.

There seems to be nexus between the police, the politicians and the care-takers at the Rehab center. Police tend to pick up even healthy daily-wage labourers and street vendors and put them in the rehab center and subjected to these inhuman conditions they tend to fall to diseases and die.

Does all this even sound real in the fast growing metropolis in the country?

Have been scooped down to such low levels of inhumanity and lack of compassion that we are subjecting our own kinds to such dreadful conditions? Do not the care-takers and politicians feel anything at all? Does it not affect them that a woman was lying dead in her own blood and excreta for many days? Does not the stench of death and disease reach their soul and stir it up to take action? Is this also one more incident to gain political mileage and do a scathing attack on the present government, even demanding the the CM resign?

For many of us as readers, is this one more news of the day read in the same breath as some film star sneezing and forgotten with the reducing coffee in my morning cup? Have been become so immune to what's happening in the society around us? Have we become so self-centered in our own lives that it no longer bothers us that someone's father or mother or family member are being subjected to such torture in our own backyard? Are we not interested in holding the government accountable for the Rs. 21 Crores they allocated towards this Rehab center and yet they are unwilling to spend Rs. 6 to provide a hygienic meal to the inmates?

Is this the world I live in? and Is this the world I wish to leave as a legacy for my children? I dread it.

Where is dignity in life and death anymore. Is dignity something that today comes with one's wealth and standing in the community. Are not the poor, deprived and orphaned deserving of dignity?

Do we not fear that this inhumanity can become all encompassing and engulf the entire society in the years to come? Do we not fear that we are becoming as in-human as the people perpetrating this torture.

Is this time to take action? Definitely Yes!


More reports on the conditions on these beggars in the rehab home.

http://www.deccanherald.com/content/90523/if-only-cm-had-visited.html

http://www.deccanherald.com/content/90522/bangarappa-demands-judicial-probe.html

http://www.deccanherald.com/content/90521/pil-seeking-inquiry-death-beggars.html

http://www.deccanherald.com/content/90520/they-ran-away-good.html

http://www.deccanherald.com/content/90516/death-not-leveller-here.html

http://www.deccanherald.com/content/90514/vip-visits-fail-lift-mood.html

http://www.deccanherald.com/content/90513/they-died-gastroenteritis.html

http://www.deccanherald.com/content/90511/only-five-food-inspectors.html

http://www.deccanherald.com/content/90510/dumped-alive-crematorium.html

http://www.deccanherald.com/content/90227/troubled-conscience.html

Re-thinking Charity

14.10.2009

Charity has come to business. Milton Friedman's insistence that causes had no place in business overlooked the fact that alignment with a cause could create a competitive advantage. More and more companies are after that advantage.

But the sad reality is that, with a few minor exceptions, business has not yet come to charity. It is not the fault of charity. For well over a decade it has been popular to preach to charities that they should act more like businesses, but the truth is, society won't permit it. And it's not likely to do so without a serious re-visiting of our fundamental canons about charity. What we mean by "act more like business" is really, "focus more on lowering overhead" — the opposite of what it takes to grow a successful business.

The nonprofit sector remains tightly constrained by a set of irrational economic rules handed down to us from the Puritans that discourage profit, self-interest, serious marketing, and risk-taking and long-term investment for revenue development. They work against the sector on every level, and they have been elevated, of all things, to the status of "ethics."

We have two rulebooks — one for charity, one for the rest of the economic world.

We let the for-profit sector pay competitive wages based on value, but have a visceral reaction to anyone making a great deal of money in charity. We let people make a fortune doing any number of things that will harm the poor, but want to crucify anyone who wants to make money helping them. This sends the top talent coming out of the nation's best business schools directly into the for-profit sector and gives our youth mutually exclusive choices between doing well and doing good. It is not sustainable, let alone scalable.

We let Coca-Cola pummel us with advertising, but donors don't want important causes "wasting" money on paid advertising. So the voices of our great causes are muted. Consumer products get lopsided access to our attention, 24 hours a day. Charitable giving has remained constant at about 2% of GDP ever since we've measured it. Charity isn't gaining market share. How can it if it isn't permitted to market? We let for-profit companies invest in the long-term to identify new sources of revenue, but we want charitable donations spent immediately to help the needy. All results must be measured against expenditures in twelve-month windows, and a 65% return is required. No wonder charities can't scale to the size of the social problems they confront.

We aren't upset when Paramount makes a $200 million movie that flops, but if a charity experiments with a $5 million fundraising event that fails, we call in the attorneys. So charities are petrified of trying bold new revenue-generating endeavors and can't develop the powerful learning curves the for-profit sector can.

We let for-profit companies raise massive capital in the stock market by offering investment returns, but we forbid the payment of a financial return in charity. The result? The for-profit sector monopolizes the capital markets while charities are left to beg for donations.

We're re-thinking business. It's time to re-think charity. It's time to give charity the big-league freedoms we really give to business. The fight for these freedoms must be our new cause, because without them, all of our causes are ultimately lost.

This article was published in Harvard Business and sourced from IndianNGOs.com

Fitness centers can create energy

03.10.2009

Over the last few years, its been a boom time for Fitness Centers across India. I think the two top reasons for their booming business are 1) The increasingly stressful lives of the working population in India who get absolutely no physical exercise. 2) The improved quality of life and purchasing power of people in Urban India who can now afford to spend money on Fitness Centers. In my neighbourhood alone, I have seen over 10 fitness centers pop-up in the last few years from mid-range to truly luxurious.

Many an early morning and late evenings, I have seen groups of people pumping up their energy and burning their fat on treadmills. That's a lot of physical exercise and energy getting accumulated. A thought has hit me. How about using all the energy generated by these individuals at fitness centers and converting that to generate power, energy, electricity, etc, etc. I dont know the science of it. But, I can guess that there is enough collective energy that can be channelized to even just run the Fitness Centers without the use of external sources of electricity or energy.

I am reminded of how buffaloes are tied to a pulley and move round a well to draw water from wells to irrigate farmlands. Well, the energy is anyway getting created on the treadmill. Maybe, we can convert that energy into something useful.

A idea waiting to happen here!

Sethu! Sethu!

12.10.2008

Saturday afternoon, As I walk into the MJ Mysore Road center, I see a bunch of kids eagerly clambering to organize the room, the materials and the books for the weekly Bala Janaagraha class. It was amazing to see their enthusiasm even after an exam and festival break of 3 weeks.

The conversation started while waiting for the facilitator to come in to take the civic awareness program for a bunch of children at MJ Mysore Road. So how did you do in your examinations. "They went well uncle!", the children echoed in unison. How was Eid and Dussehra. "It was a lot of fun uncle!!", again in Unison. "Didnt you keep any sweets for me?", I rued. The children confidently retorted, "But, you didnt come Uncle! and you didnt bring us any sweets!". Rightfully so, I was embarassingly quietened. However, I hastily added that I dont celebrate Eid or Dussehra at home. "We celebrate Deepavali at home!", I confidently responded proudly making a comeback into this war of festivals.

Then it hit me like a lightning bolt. "Then, you must be a Sethu!!", stated Arunkumar confidently. The reference was sharp, curt and was followed by peals of laughter by all the children. Sethu - is a term used for a businessman, usually someone who owns a shop - pawn broker, a jeweller, a local grocer. However, more derogatorily, it is used to describe a person who lends money to the poor at exhorbitant interest rates and makes the poor indebted to him lifelong.

I recomposed myself and asked "Why do you think I am sethu?". "Simple, because you celebrate Deepavali and only sethu's celebrate Deepavali." responded arunkumar continuing his confident tone. Interestingly, it was true in many senses. Deepavali is a time when businessmen close their books, workship their books and business assets and start a new year with new books and new fervour. It is the time when the rich businessmen dole out sweets and clothes to their employees, labourers and community. A time when they are most charitable, primarily because they might get more brownie points from God.

Coming from an extended business family where my uncles have been cloth merchants and traders for donkey's years and where I have been part of the deepavali celebrations at their shops as a young kid. I remember how people used to come to my uncle with folded hands and call him "Sethu, Sethji, lalaji" and he used to soak in this false pride of being their benefactor.

I looked around the room at each kid, and I could fathom the hundreds of stories being played out in their houses with the word "Sethu" as a central character. I could envision a poor mother of a child, pawming her last jewellery to a Sethu to feed her children, knowing fully well that it is probably the last she will see of her jewellery and yet hoping that Sethu would be trustworthy enough to keeps the accounts well and give the jewellery back to her when she has repayed the loan.

I could envision a poor father mortgaging his house to the Sethu to get money for a wedding in the family or to make that crucial investment in his loss-making business. The Sethu cunningly accepts everything, knowing fully well that once he has caught his prey, he will be feeding on him till the prey has been completed cleaned up.

I wonder what impression these children carried of a Sethu - Is it someone who just celebrates a festival like Deepavali or is there is deeper prejudice like the one I carry of a shark out to get his unsuspecting, vulnerable prey. I wonder how often they hear this term,"Sethu" at home - sometimes as a saviour, a generous loan-giver and sometimes as a cheat, a ruthless, heartless money-lender, a phython who can never be satiated.

The entire conversation was amidst a lot of fun, laughter and mirth but left a deep pain in me and I wondered if the Sethu in their life would ever go away with empowerment. Thinking back, It triggered a resolve in me to continue to do what I do as with empowerment, this children would grow up to walk out of the shadow of the Sethus in their life.

The facilitator walked in to conduct his session as I decided to take a walk around the area and on my way back got Dussehra sweets for all the children. Maybe, my unconscious way to improve the image of the "Sethu!"

Vishal

On Sat, 11th October 2008 at the MJ Mysore Road Center with children.

It started with a bottle of water

03.09.2008

It was 7:30 am at the Chennai Central Station and I was here to pick up a few guests for a big fat Indian wedding. I still have 30 Mins before the scheduled arrival and really wanted a drink of water. Contemplating if I should wait for later or have a swig right now, I loitered around the busily occupied station. I chose to pick up a bottle only to find that 1 Litre is all I can buy and nothing smaller. I picked it up anyway and gulped down half a bottle in one go knowing fully well that I might not be able to finish the whole thing. Something told me to leave the half-filled bottle at a closed food counter. I did and began to observe if someone will go for it.

In sometime, a man probably in his late thirties, business like in this attire picked up some food from the next counter and stood next to the bottle to have it. What I didnt immediately observe was there was an old man, thin and frail standing behind him trying to grab his attention. The old man could have been in this sixties, salt and pepper hair, more salt than pepper, white shirt and dhoti and interestingly dark glasses, the one worn by blind people. He had a distinguished beard but a sunken frame which gave him the look an alms seeker that he was.

He stood next to the business man, at a distance which was not intrusive but at the same time close enough to grab attention. He closed in very very slowly till their eyes met and that was indication enough for the beggar to move for the kill. His frail frame and folded hands did the trick this time and the businessman shared his last idli with the beggar. The bottle of water continued to stay in its place and would have probably admired the way the beggar went about this business if the bottle had a mind of its own.

The bottle was soon to become the star of the story. The old man started chatting away with the businessman and the businessman nonchalantly nodded without really listening. The beggar quickly gobbled his idli, took the bottle and helped the businessman wash his hands with the water as if thanking him for the beautiful gesture of help. The businessman walked away.

The old man took a sip of water and looked around for his next customer. His black glasses tucked in his bag now. Another gentleman gloriously stood with his food at the counter and the old man started his routine again. This time the old man was in for a surprise. He didnt get any alms or food but this gentleman took his water bottle washed his hands and walked away as if thats what he was supposed to do. The old man was left perplexed, disappointed and with very little water in this bottle now. He knew the bottle could be put to good use to loosen the pockets of his unsuspecting customers but with little water left, he realized he had little chance, so he finished off the water and threw the bottle away in search of more customers.

For the next 10 Mins, he tried his routine for standing close to his potential customers and then slowly moving into their eye-view but had no luck whatsoever. Begging can be quite a difficult job and requires quite an art. It calls for patience, strategy, the appropriate attire and look and also market segmentation. In the case of this man, the food counters were his target. Any human being watching a beggar while gorging on delicious food would be guilt-ridden and would most likely give something away - either loose change or food. However, the beggar and myself soon realized that it usually is 1 out of every 10 people who actually act on their guilt.

The beggar moved from one food counter to another in search of his elusive customer and I followed suit, invisibly. The third food counter had loads of customers but I think that worked against him too. There were so many that he was lost in the crowd and no one noticed him. He tried catching hold of a few north-easterners. He had got their attention and they were contemplating. The mind had started playing its game on both of them, the silent negotiations had started, the deal was simmering and just when it could have been a make or break - the headphone blasted the arrival of my train and I rushed out left wondering if the beggar was successful or not.

For the beggar, ofcourse, it was just another day at work.

DEVARAJURS NAGAR

24.08.2008

The signboard looked at me straight and suddenly came alive as if commanding me to stay. I found a small bench of a tea-shop directly opposite the sign and made it my watch-tower for maybe the next 40 Mins.

"Devaraj-Urs Nagar" - could be a non-descript neighbourhood unknown the the mall strolling bangalorean or could be home to the quintessential struggling, invisible Bangalorean. A community that enticed me with its invisible charm today as I saw its many facades unfold before me. It was like I have entered a movie hall and could almost be directing the movie for I was creating it with my own eyes. It showed me maybe what I wanted to see and captured it in my movie. almost, like looking out of my window and seeing the world with fresh eyes all over again.

The old man who didnt want any attention on himself so just served me my tea and went about his business. He probably knew my intentions and wanted nothing to do with it.

The boisterous young boy at the tea-shop who wanted to be the adult protagonist of my movie but was soon over-powered by his boss, the owner of the tea-shop. My movie starts with the boy incidentally. He was like a 30 yr-old in the body of a 14-yr old. Survival tactics I presume. He had to act the grown up so he could be safe from the hunters who used him as their punching bag. catching hold of him, pinching him, teasing him, beating him up or just holding him tight almost like wanting to feel him. Yikes is all I could exclaim but the boy fought valiantly and kept going about his work. His employer thought of him as a toy and everytime he wanted some entertainment from his bored work, he beat up the boy in a joking way, in a playful manner, but beat him he did.

The world of Devaraj Urs Nagar unfolded in front of me. The auto-rickshaw drivers who just wanted to hang around at the auto-stand not so much for a customer to come along but more for the common bonhomie and the lazy slumber of the afternoon. I was just shocked at the physicality between the men - the hugging, the getting too close to the body, the hands going all over the place, the gestures - all led towards an under-current of homosexuality. I felt scared for the boys in the neighbourhood especially the working lot. The auto-rickshaw drivers were a special breed - almost like the the unwanted kings of that stretch - loud, boisterous, doing everything to seek the attention of bystanders but at the same just happy being themselves. They didnt allow an old man carrying a heavy load to grab a rickshaw from the road and he was made to get into on of the rickshaws at the stand and made to wait for 20 Mins. He didnt seem to have a choice. They continued to bully anyone and everyone walking past this street at their own whim and no one seemed to really be able to do anything. It was not violent but slightly aggressive. It didnt seem like they meant harm but they just wanted attention.

The afternoon was giving way to a silent beautiful evening as the azaan sounded in a distance. The tea-shops and the sweet-marts suddenly became abuzz with activity as the worshippers started strolling out on the streets. Young girls came running to pick up sweets to take home. Boys stood around to eat some before they took the rest home. Other boys walked home nonchalantly after their evening classes, casual and happy in their gait.

Rushed moms came in anxiously to pack tea and sweets for their husbands and others in the family before they came home. Young boys in bicycles maneuvered their way through the crowd of people and vehicles giving schumacher a run for his money anyday. Burkhas fluttered through the streets and searching eyes looked out through them.

A old man walked past with a baby of a few months in his arms and I was abhorred to see that in broad daylight, on a busy street, he kept kissing the infant on the lips. He was not a kiss of love, care or that of a father but a kiss of a man desperate. I might be wrong, I hope to god that I am wrong but I continued to follow him till he turned around the corner and was not happy with again this under-current of physicality that seemed to define in most activities around this street.

Ready to leave. I pondered at just how many children I had seen in the last 40 Mins and felt a deep sense of pain at the thought of how much these beautiful children have to endure to survive, how many more tests they need to give to blossom as beautiful lotuses in our world. I walked away with a deep sense to emptiness. with questions as usual but no answers.

I later found out that Devaraj Urs was a Chief Minister of Bangalore at sometime.

A 5-Min encounter and a sleepless night

29.02.2008

Dropping my parents to the Bangalore City Railway Station at 11:30 pm, as I walk back to the parking lot, I see a sight that shocks me and leaves me with many questions but no answers.

The City Railway Station is always bubbling with activity with people always coming or going. However, there are always people who stay. One would wonder what that means. I have always seen some people who use the railway station as their home – sleep at the platform braving the cold, mosquitoes and surprisingly today I saw them braving the cops too. I have always seen people there. I am not sure if they are the same people every night and have made the platform their home or just different people at different times. I wonder why they choose to sleep at the railway platform. Don’t they have homes? Don’t they have places they can sleep at? Don’t they have hotels / hostels to sleep at? Are they too expensive that these people have to brave the cold night, mosquitoes and policemen?

As I walked out the main entrance, I see a whole bunch of people sleeping under the entrance. Suddenly, I see one policeman wielding a stick and beating up a young man. I see more policemen now, walking around, asking questions and beating up random people. I was a strange and shocking sight. Some people continued to sleep un-disturbed and some people were brutally beaten with the stick. I found it strange that only some people were beaten up while others were allowed to sleep. I wondered why? I wondered who gave right to the policemen to beat-up, harmless people sleeping on the platform. I wondered why country’s law allows civilians to be beaten up. I wonder if wielding the stick makes these policemen feel powerful. I wonder if they are able to sleep peacefully at night. I wondered what the dynamics of this strange system where some are allowed to sleep and yet others beaten up and shooed away.

I feel angry that there is not enough that we as people are doing to change this situation. I feel frustrated that I continue to be a mute spectator while all this happens in front my eyes. I feel helpless that I still live in a country where civilians can get caned and there are probably poor people who don’t have places to stay.

I worry about the future as someday I fear the masses will strike back and destroy everything in their way in the hope to change things.

I wish we could be more sensitive as human being atleast for another human being. I wish there was a way to bring about law and order without violence.

As I finish penning my thoughts, I sit quiet for a long, long time wondering, questioning, seeking answers but finding none.

One more failure added to my increasing list of things I wish to change.

We won! We won!

12.07.2007

Arun rushes through the defense, dribbles and swerves, goes left and hits a brilliant back flick to hit the ball right through the opponent’s goal-keeper and it’s a GOOOAAAAALLLL. A goal that had me mesmerized for its sheer brilliance in execution.

The Dream A Dream boys in orange won their match against Sarla Birla Academy today at the St. Joseph Boys Centenary Hockey Tournament. The score at the closing bell read an impressive 5-2. One of the finest and most sensational games I have seen the boys play. The dribble, the swerves, the tackles, the back flips, the aggression and the hunger to win all showing clear on their faces.

At the beginning to the game, I asked the kids how many goals they will score today, they promptly and confidently said “5 goals uncle” and they did it. It was a thriller of a match right from the word go. The children consistently putting pressure on the opponents till brilliant flicks from Vijaykumar (1), Ramu (1) and Arun (3) sealed the game for the dream boys. The Sarla Birla Academy boys had no clue what hit them J to say the least. As usual the SBA boys were huge hunks while our little reddy shekhars looked like minians in front of them. But, that was not to deter the brilliant performers who took charge and the game home. The team-work and discipline was evident in the methodical execution of the task and they stayed focus on the goal to win.

A few days back, they won another game against the Frank Anthony Public School thrashing them 3-0

It makes me immensely proud to share this wonderful news with you. The stars of the day were ofcourse the children, each one of them, who out-shone their brilliance and just made me feel so proud and nostalgic of the day when we kick-started the Dream Hockey Program. We have indeed come a long way from those small beginnings.

A wonderful day indeed, Will stay in my memory for a long time to come.

10th July 2007

Its in our hands

26.06.2007

Lingamma and Meha, two 3-year olds who have been brightening up my mornings for more than a week now. Meha stands at the balcony and Lingamma stands at the mud mound below; every morning soaking in the colours, sounds and people of the morning. Both of them with sparkling wide eyes, full of life and excitement. Both of them fresh from the dreamy sleep of the night, talking a language of their own with the world.

Meha loves to shout out to the world – be it the vegetable vendor, the cars, the bikes and the occasional passerby – Ahoy! Ahoy! She goes in a language that none understand but everyone responds. She watches her grand-dad water the plants and is fascinated by the water forming a pool around her legs and making a waterfall from the drain-pipe on the balcony. She runs in and out of her house – happy and carefree.

Lingamma gets her bath by the roadside; cold and refreshing given to her by her 5-yr old sister. She splashes water around, wears her clothes of yesterday all excited that it’s her favourite frock. Sits on a granite slab and shares a meal with her 2-yr old brother and then starts her daily adventure by running up and down the small lane with speeding vehicles. She is careful though, her instincts to stay safe, alive and kicking protecting her. She rolls over the mud mound, picks up things that fascinate her from the road, throws them around and watches with amazement as the morning birds, insects and people move around.

Two very beautiful, happy, carefree and lovely children brighten up my day. One from the house from across my house another from the construction site next to my house.

Meha would possibly go to a good school, heavy school-bags, pressure of performance, make friends and have a normal development. Lingamma would probably move from one construction site to another, miss school, and make friends with other kids at construction sites.

I wonder how life would differ or be similar for these two lovely kids. I wonder what life has in store for them. 

I wonder when kids in India would have a carefree, happy development with their Rights to Survival, Protection, Development and Participation held and met in equal measure without prejudice. It’s after all in our hands!!!

HOPE

26.06.2007

16-year old, Subbu wanted to visit the new mall next to his house in the adugodi slum. A son of a daily-wage labourer, his father struggled to make ends meet and send his son to school. The new mall held a lot of attraction to Subbu and his friends from the neighbourhood. One fine Sunday morning, they wore their best clothes donated by an NGO in the community and walked up to the BIG Mall. They felt a little threatened by the looming structure and thought maybe it wasn’t a good idea. Subbu wanted to do this, so he prodded them on. They entered the world of glittering lights, luxuries, food and richness in that one step and left behind the drabness of their poverty stricken world. In no time, Subbu ran out frustrated and angry. He saw everything that he wished to have – colourful clothes, toys, games, computers, chocolates but could not because all that he had in his pocket was 2 Rs. He felt angry that his father could not give him more, that there was a youngster his age in the mall who picked up a new mobile phone while Subbu watched from the impenetrable glass wall outside. Subbu walked away angry.

This is Bangalore today, a chaotic city trying to keep the socio-economic balance intact and failing miserably. In my work with Dream A Dream, over the last 7 years, I have come across many children like Subbu whose aspirations and dreams have built up with the growing purchasing power of the city. Whether these aspirations will get fulfilled; the path they will take to fulfill these aspirations is what gives me sleepless nights every night.

Our constant endeavour at Dream A Dream has been to build a sense of self-esteem and confidence in the children, to build dignity of labour among the children for any service in society – be it an auto rickshaw driver, a cleaner, a vegetable vendor or a server at a Coffee Shop. The children learn fast but the world is changing at a much quicker pace, increasingly becoming a challenging environment for those without support. Will these children be able to make it to the first step in the ladder of development and if they do, will the society accept them for who they are and not judge them based on where they come from?

A group of 12 of us started Dream A Dream in 1999. At the peak of the software boom in India, 12 people wanted to contribute back to the community inspired by the idea of one person, Brinda Jacob. We believed that while we have grown up with stereotypes about people from vulnerable backgrounds, at the core of it, we are sensitive and we wanted to bring out this sensitive side of people. We are inspired by the idea of involving young people in developing our own communities, contributing to our societies and making our world better. 7 years hence, over 600 volunteers contribute to empowering the lives of over 500 children from vulnerable backgrounds. These are as you would describe the young, ambitious, aggressive Generation Next who believes the world belongs to them and yet are humbled when an 11-year old Usha’s eyes brighten up when she sees them on a Sunday afternoon.

This is the contradiction of our times. There are young people who spend every weekend with children at Dream A Dream and then there are those that go to the malls. A new breed of young people who hang onto trees to stop the BESCOM from cutting down the last green glories of Bangalore and then there are those that smoke like a chimney and throw cigarette butts on the roads.

The young who are walking through open-gutters, filthy conditions to provide health facilities to the poor and those that throw garbage on the roads and complain about the deteriorating quality of life in the city. There are young who rescue children from child labour and those that get 11-year old Pallavi from the village to take care of their new-born akash.

The community is in a state of constant chaos today and depending on how you look at it, you can either hate your life or love it. I love it.

Because of the 600 people who believe they can change the world through their contributions – small or big. Because there is HOPE!

There are more people now who want to make this world a better place than before, there are more people now who want to spend their quality weekends volunteering for a cause than before, there are more people now who are taking responsibility for their neighbourhoods, communities, and cities than before, there are more young people now voting than before.

There is hope because an old, poor man brings tea for me every morning with a million dollar smile, and announces “Life is indeed Beautiful!”

I don’t know if Subbu will ever have more then 2 Rs. in his pocket but I do hope he is respected for who he is, not discriminated because of his background, acknowledged in the community and he himself is responsible towards his community.

The social sector's biggest secret - Support Groups

26.6.2007

The Social Sector’s Biggest Secret

Support Groups -- the Props of NGOs in the Future

By Vishal Talreja

25 yr old Milind has a brilliant idea that will transform access to livelihood opportunities for the poor but is facing difficulty figuring out how to form an organization.

Jan Jagriti is a 6-yr old organization; its Director feels that there is a need for an external agency to facilitate the otherwise chaotic process of reviewing its vision and re- strategizing its goals.

Prayavasam is looking for new board members and needs answers for the questions where, who and how.

Unlike the corporate sector that uses support services whenever available, the citizen sector is still grappling with this idea that a lot of their work, especially support services can be outsourced and in the long-run will ensure tremendous cost-savings. Services like accounting, legal structures, fund raising, volunteer management, program delivery and many others can and should be outsourced to support service providers.

Support service providers have existed in India for time immemorial but their importance and need is gaining renewed popularity among the citizen sector. At Dream A Dream, Murray Culshaw Consulting has helped us restructure our board and more recently with helping us expand our Board. Likewise, Institute for Leadership and Institutional Development (ILID) has helped us review our vision and formulate a 3-yr strategic goal for the organization. I Think I Have A Solution (ITIHAS) has helped us with a fundraising campaign and GIVE India has enabled us to reach out to online donors across the world.

Many such support service providers do not come free and charge for their services. However, it has been our experience over the years that the returns for the investment made are far far higher in the long-run. Moreover, it’s like a huge burden taken away from us so we can focus on our core work.

Let’s admit we are not experts at everything that is needed to run an organization. Hence, we in the citizen sector need to learn to outsource and more critically learn to identify areas that can be outsourced.

A successful organization can only be built when it seeks partners. There is a clear management practice required to run an organization in the citizen sector and the earlier we realize this, the faster will we move with our times and embrace large-scale unprecedented success with our work in making this world a better place to live in.

Proven Guilty & Charged

14.03.2007

Yesterday, my being, my purpose in life was questioned. It was early afternoon and I was heading back to office from lunch when I realized there was a huge traffic jam just 1-km before my office. I stayed within the designated traffic lane, cursing all the people who kept breaking the traffic cordon and getting onto the opposite lane, thus creating more chaos on the busy Hosur Road. As I got closer, I saw that the road was blocked off and there were cops all around. I wondered if everyone was safe in office and if another riot had not broken up. I maneuvered through the tiny lanes and reached my office to see a huge bunch of people – men, women and children had blocked the busy Hosur Road and were seen sitting on the middle of the road, some fighting with menacing looking cops with sticks.

Spoke to a few children who happened to be from one of our partner centers, Makkala Jagriti. They slowly unraveled the mystery of the road-block. Earlier in the day, a woman and her kid were hit by a speeding truck and the kid died while the woman was struggling to stay alive. This angered the nearby slum neighbourhood who decided to take things in their own hands and protest by blocking the roads. I was not sure what their demands were, but standing on my comfortable and safe platform, I could see and sense that there was a lot of anger. For sometime, I saw the kids shouting slogans like “We want Justice, We want a traffic signal”. I guessed they were demanding a traffic signal at the busy adugodi junction to ensure such accidents don’t happen again. I was not sure if they were asking the right people since the policemen there were only concerned about security and traffic management.

I felt proud of the kids for staging this protest and whole-heartedly supporting their parents. After all, it was a kid from their neighbourhood and it could be one of them tomorrow. One slightly older kid caught my eye. Must have been about 14-yrs old. He was directing the younger kids to keep shouting slogans. As the cops control over the situation increased, I could sense and see his anger. He would stand right in front of the cop, with anger in his eyes and shout slogans. He would hold a placard and boldly challenge the cop with the stick to beat him. He would not budge from there. He was angry and he wanted to show his resistance. I was just so glad that he was not beaten up. As the cops got in reinforcements, the slum-dwellers were a little scared and as some sticks started wielding, the slum dwellers had to give in. One old man was caught by a policeman and they tried to shove him into their van. His daughter came rushing after the cops, pleading them with tears in her eyes to let her father go. They tried to scare her, threaten her, but she pleaded with helpless eyes and hands and managed to get her father freed. But, there was also anger in her eyes, anger against a system that failed to protect her, instead threw her into a corner.

Women continued their protest for sometime more, blocking or rather trying to block the onslaught of traffic. The first set of two-wheelers that managed to go past the human wall – looked on, some amused, some wondering but then within seconds sped on – to their mundane destinations. Some stopped to ask what happened to share it with their friends and family as gossip of the day but none stopped out of concern, none stopped to help and support. The women were soon outnumbered by both the cops and the vehicles and had to step aside. Their protest was over, a naught.

The fact that they managed to stop traffic for over two hours on the busy Hosur Road must have come to the notice of the powers to be, was hoping that maybe they will agree to have a traffic light at that junction, maybe the cops, the politicians would be sensitive to the fact that a small child’s life has been wasted and would want to help – unconditionally but I guess that didn’t happen.

The crowds dispersed, the road was open to speeding vehicles again, some shops opened up again, some cops stayed back to ensure there was no violence and I went back to my computer – angry, shaken, shocked, but didn’t do anything about it.

The next morning – the cops continued to stay there. There was a traffic cop managing the traffic in the morning but through the day, he lost interest, sat at a corner junction, sipping tea and enjoying a leisurely holiday while children, women and men continued to escape impending death while trying to cross the road.

Where was I in all this? I was a mute, meek spectator after all. I watched the entire drama unfold before me while I stood by the footbath next to an arguably protective cop. I saw the angry teenager and felt like holding a placard and support him, but I didn’t. I saw the women were losing ground with the cops, wanted to rejuvenate their protest by joining in but I didn’t. I felt like sitting on the middle of the road to express my protest but didn’t do it. I felt tremendously angry and wanted to pick up a stick and beat up the cops, but I didn’t do it. I was angry at the system that was so insensitive that the death of a child paled in comparison to mundane things like traffic management. I was angry at the apathy showed all around. While the poor protested, pleaded and fought – those in buildings on the other side of the road – looked on with interest as if following an Ekta Kapoor’s never ending serials on television. It could have been their kid. Thank god, it wasn’t! I wanted to break someone’s head, make the powers to be realize the futility of trying to gain mileage out of this incident. I was angry that everyone was focusing on the problem and not the solution.

But, mostly, I was angry because I was guilty of not been part of a protest that concerned me. A kid had dies less than two-hours back in front of our office and all that I did was look on. I was angry that I have cursed and ranted everytime I have had to cross this “road to death” and yet when the opportunity came to stand up for what was right, I stood back and watched. What then is the difference between me and anyone else? What is the point of empowering children when I, myself am unable to live by my values and principles. I feel guilty for showing double-standards in my own work. If I cannot even be part of their protests, their problems, their daily lives. How do I help, if I refuse to look beyond my computer? Is volunteering and citizenship just intellectual masturbation to satisfy my own need for acceptance, meet my elite desire to be popular or does it go beyond onto to the streets to fight, at times, the very system that perpetuated the injustice.

Aren’t there many creative ways we can solve this problem amicably. For instance, can I look after the traffic management and safety? Can we get a team of volunteers to do it over shifts? Can we talk to the powers that are to consider our application for a traffic signal? How difficult is to get traffic signal organized through the government.

Yet, I did nothing. Stood there as a mute spectator. Today, I realized I am fake in my values – my values stare at me mockingly today and ask me “What is the purpose of my life” for I cannot even stand for, protest against injustice, something so integral to our learning with the children.

I am left today asking myself this question – Who am I? Why am I here? Why did I not help? I have been proven guilty of being a fake social entrepreneur.

Note: Two days have gone by. Today morning I drove down to office to see a speed-breaker at the crossing. An achievement indeed, a compensation for the death of an innocent child. A compensation for the hundreds to who stood their ground and protested. Yes, this is a solution, it will make the speeding death-carrying vehicles slow-down and maybe there will be fewer accidents. A solution that I did not fight for but will enjoy the benefits of. There is power in a poor person’s anger and if we are not sensitive to it, then let us be ready for a revolution that will thwart us from our elite dwellings.

The real world of Little Adults

14.02.2007

It is always always a pleasure to go back to Honnemardu with the kids. The 29th Jan – 1st Feb trip was no different. 13 kids (9 from Makkala Jagriti, 4 from Vishwas), Krishnamurthy, Ismail (volunteers), Nomito Kamdar (Cofounder & Director, The Adventurers) and I headed out on a Phase 2 camp to build Problem Solving Skills among the children. The camp was unique and different from all other camps as we were to also meet 26 children and 3 teachers from Amber Valley Residential School, Chikmangalur as it was planned to be a joint camp. Nomito and I were a little apprehensive but also very excited as our efforts to do integrative camps were finally bearing fruit.

The camp had its usual high-energy dose of swimming, tent-building, camping on an island, camp-fire, trekking and a few other things added for good measure. Notably been – problem solving games, trust games, scavenger hunt and a visit to Jog Falls, A Power Generation Unit and the Lingannamakki Dam.

Being a first time integrative camp, the camp had its highs and its challenges. More challenges, I would say, but definitely a success because of the challenges. We are quite positive now that we want to do more Integrative camps as the learning is a hundred times over for all groups involved. The key highlights of the camp were –

The obvious differences in the physical attributes of the children, even though the age difference was only couple of years. A Jagan looked really small compared to an Adiraj who was almost 5.8 ft. This already set certain sub-conscious stereotypes that the dream a dream kids were smaller in age so need to be taken care off.

The confidence levels were different but these soon got negated in the outdoor activities as all the adventure activities were new activities for most of the kids.

There were at times subtle areas of discrimination and at other times blatant discrimination among both groups. Again, the actions were very sub-conscious that the kids didn’t realize it.

There was a clear demarcation of roles as if similar to the roles being played out in society. For instance, when mixed groups were formed and asked to come up with a skit during campfire. One group made the Dream A Dream kids the ticket collectors and the other kids as the movie-goers. In some other instance due to language barriers, the dream a dream kids were given silent, spectator type roles.

There was also a struggle of power as the bigger kids took the best mats during sleep-time and the small kids were left wanting. Very small instances but a clear play out of roles in society that we were able to see as outside observers.

Fortunately, the discrimination didn’t play out in perspectives and attitudes in a big way since they are all still children. A lot of their attitudes were built from their environments and influences from their family systems or institutions. It will definitely be a problem if more such interactive and sensitivity building platforms are NOT created because then these children would go out and manifest these attitudes in bigger roles in society. This could be observed in the attitude of the teachers which was more of sympathy and not empathy and mutual respect.

The one thing that was common was that they were all still children at heart and by day-3 the interactions had become very positive and even friendships were built. They enjoyed each other’s company and even worked well in teams together.

I interacted with the 39 kids through the 4-days, at one level I was torn to see the discriminations manifesting in all activities and at another level felt extremely hopeful because this experience will remain with the kids for years to come and hopefully make each of the kids more empowered and sensitive to each other. The most heartening memory was when during circle time one of the kids from dream a dream expressed how hurt she felt when she was not allowed to sleep in a tent with her so-called new friends, yet she continued to try till they would relent, but they did not and that made her very sad. The fact that she was able to state this in a large group, in English, showed her resilience and courage to stand up against any kind of injustice. Another memory was when Abhishek from Amber Valley was able to overcome his inhibitions and participate whole-heartedly in the scavenger hunt game including picking up dung when required. Or Aishwarya, again from Amber Valley made tea for everyone in the morning at the island or 3-other boys from Amber Valley mingled really well and were Jagan’s best friends by end of camp.

For me, I was left on a different high when little prabhu one night was falling asleep during circle time and quietly came and slept on my lap. His heart-beats synchronized with mine and I felt a very different, very new kind of happy feeling.

I have tried to capture just a gist of the entire 4-day life-changing experience. There is definitely a lot more to it which I will try to capture in the report. To conclude, it’s beautiful to see the pure, innocence and charm of children across diverse backgrounds and to see enthusiasm, hope and energy in them for the future but it also worries me that parents and institutions may not be seeing the stereotypes, biases and prejudices they are building in the children because of their own attitude and prejudices.

We need to do a lot more in this area. We need a lot more interactive platforms and I am sure in a few years we will be on our way to a sensitive future. We are planning a series of exciting, interactive camps in April & May 2007 and if you are interested in involving your kids, cousins, nephews or any kid in the age-group of 10-16, mail me at vishalta@gmail.com and we will add them in for a super cool Integrative Adventure Camps.