What’s one of the most delightful memories you have of growing up? Is it being able to live without the burden of worries and responsibilities, perhaps? Not having to think about what consequences your actions might have. While this may be a reality for many, there are children across Bihar who do not have this luxury.
30-year-old Sarita Rai is working with children in Hajipur, a city in Bihar, to help them hold on to their childhood for as long as they can.
Sarita Rai
With her father being an Indian Forest Service (IFS), Sarita grew up in Northeast India. With roots in Bihar, she visited her hometown often, and every time she visited she was left with a feeling of unease seeing the plight of women and children in the State. There was a time when Sarita started fearing coming back to Bihar because of the regressive mindset of the people. The attitude towards children’s education bothered Sarita a lot.
Not one to sit on the sides and complain about the situation, this lawyer-turned-social entrepreneur took control of things and started a school, Topper Study Point (Udaan), for the underprivileged in Hajipur, Bihar which teaches underprivileged children for free till class 6.
In this exclusive interview with The Better India (TBI), Sarita, an employee in the State Government Juvenile Justice Department (JJD) in Bihar, speaks about the initial challenges, her desire to make a difference, and things that keep her motivated.
What does Sarita do?
The living conditions in parts of Bihar are so adverse that many families make a living off their children’s earnings, who work in factories, helpers in homes, restaurants, and roadside eateries. “I have been working with children in the remote areas of Bihar for over eight years now, and I intend to let these kids get a chance at life. Providing them with an education, in my opinion, is the best way to do that,” shares Sarita.
Recollecting the time she spent in Bihar during her holidays, she says, “I cycled around the town, and still remember the stares it garnered. People could not accept the fact that being a girl I was given so much freedom to cycle around freely. The State is steeped in such stereotypes.”
It was to break such prejudices that Sarita chose to study law, but to bring her vision to life, Sarita did not to take up the many lucrative legal jobs offered to her and became a social entrepreneur.
“A majority of the women and girls do not even step out of their houses. They spend their entire life cooped up inside. They do not even know that they have legal rights,” she says.
How did she start bringing out a change?
Sarita began with conversing with the mothers. “It was a slow process, and in the beginning, a few young girls came up to me and expressed an interest in studying.”
“I started teaching them from my home for free. I would charge a small fee from the boys but nothing from the girls,” she says.
Using education to bring about social change.
During the almost four years that she home-tutored underprivileged children, she thought of starting an educational institute for the kids. And this was how, in the year 2009, Topper Study Point (Udaan) came into existence.
Challenges
“The level of poverty and thus, the living conditions are so stark in so many parts of Bihar that to convince the parents to let their children be educated was an uphill task. If a family had three children, and each of them worked, it meant that they all brought in some money. No parent was willing to let go of that income.”
The first step in making this initiative a success was for Sarita to counsel and convince the parents. Gradually, once they started believing in what Sarita was trying to achieve, it became easier to get the children into the school. “I have visited almost all their homes [in Hajipur] and spoken to all of them,” she recollects.
Using education to bring about social change
How would you react if I were to say that 13-year-old Rachna thought that it is normal for her father to beat her and her mother up mercilessly after consuming alcohol? This was how Rachna lived until he met Sarita and started attending the classes and sessions at the centre.
“It was only in the third or fourth counselling session that Rachna mentioned that to me. There would be a scarcity of food in the house, and while her brothers and father brought and ate the food, she and her mother went hungry,” she mentions.
It took Sarita almost ten sessions to convince Rachna that what her father was doing was wrong, that she had rights and could very well exercise them.
“Rachna, who is now 15, continues to study at the center, and the change that I have seen in her personality is so heartwarming. She pens down some of the most honest poems and has evolved as a powerful individual,” says Sarita with pride.
What does the Centre teach?
“More than educating them I started with teaching them basic etiquette and manners. They did not even know what the basic hygiene requirements were.”
The first six months are spent in teaching all students about grooming, hygiene, their rights, and making them comfortable with themselves and their surroundings. Though they do not follow any set syllabus, they teach the students enough to ensure grade level competence. Sarita also tries to get the children a seat in an established school after they complete grade 6 at the Center.
How are they funded?
Sarita mentions that she does not get any funding from the government. As of now, it is all private funding where people decide to donate books, stationery, and uniform among others. “I work in the State JJD, and I utilise the money I make from there to run the Centre,” she informs.
Sarita and her able team of 4 volunteers have impacted the lives of more than 2,000 children since inception of Udaan, and the current batch size is 100.
Catch them young!
Sarita is working selflessly to bring a change in the system, the outlook, and perspectives of the people. We hope she continues doing the great work that she does and inspires others to do the same.
The recent declaration of board exam results from across the country has brought intense joy and disappointment to scores of families. Tragically, for an 18-year-old student from Raigarh, Chhattisgarh, the disappointment of failing his board exams resulted in suicide. According to reports, he had failed his board exams last year as well.
Anguished by the news of suicide, a 2009-batch Indian Administrative Service (IAS) Officer Awanish Kumar Sharan, who is currently the District Magistrate of Kabirdham district, Chhattisgarh, took to Facebook asking students “not to get disheartened or lose hope” on getting poor results.
News of the suicide had evidently touched a personal chord.
“Today I read a shocking [piece of] news in [a] newspaper that one student committed suicide because of unexpected result in the exam. I appeal to all students and their parents not to take the result very seriously! It’s just a number game. You will get many more chances to prove your calibre,” he wrote on Facebook.
Going beyond simple advice, the IAS officer also posted the results he had obtained in his Class 10 and 12 board exams, college and other educational qualifications.
Scoring 44.5 per cent and 65 per cent marks in Class 10 and 12 respectively, besides obtaining 60.7 per cent in his graduation, Awanish made it clear that despite these apparent setbacks, he continued to persevere. With determination, persistence, an objective analysis of the predicament in which he found himself and hope, he willed his way towards clearing the notoriously difficult Union Public Service Commission exams.
Today, he is an IAS officer.
The IAS officer’s message on social media was intended to assist those students suffering from depression, anxiety and stress as a consequence of poor marks obtained in the Chhattisgarh Board of Secondary Exam declared on May 11 besides those of CBSE and ICSE announced last week. The objective of this decision was clear—bolster the confidence of students suffering from abject disappointment after the declaration of board exam results in this ultra-competitive age and to tell them that it isn’t the end of the world.
The message was also directed at their parents and other family members as well. On occasions, the weight of expectation they put on a child is what results in him/her taking the extreme step if they perform poorly in board exams.
“Today choices are not limited, and opportunities will keep coming as long as the students endeavour to persist with their mission. Why let the school percentage decide the future. They should soon get over it as exam results are not the end of the world,” said the Collector, who is a native of Bihar, while speaking to The New Indian Express.
(Edited by Saiqua Sultan)
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For Yashas D, concepts like destiny or good luck are baseless myths. He believes that focus and hard work are the only two routes to success.
Well, his belief bore fruit when the CBSE results for Class 10 were recently announced.
The student of Vidyavaridhi International School in Huliyar had scored 498 marks out of 500 (99.6%) and emerged as the topper not only in Karnataka but the Chennai region as well.
“I was expecting a good result, around 90%, but topping the state never came to me even in my wildest dreams. So, it was a shockingly pleasant to know the news. It feels good when years of hard work pay off,” expresses the 15-year-old in a conversation with The Better India.
Yashas’ journey towards overcoming his struggles make his success story genuinely inspiring.
Yashas D
Hailing from Thammanahalli, a remote village in Chikkanayakanahalli Taluk, Tumakuru district, Yashas was born to a family of farmers. However, due to his father’s illness, he had to manage other responsibilities alongside his studies.
“My husband recently had a stroke, and due to his health issues, Yashas had to pitch in. Sometimes it’s like my son became an adult way before the right time, which is both a sad and proud realisation. But, of course, seeing him juggle the two and still manage to top the state is nothing short of unbelievable. I am proud beyond words,” says his mother, Nethravathi.
She adds that her son never had a dearth of potential or focus. His day would start early in the morning, and he would travel 12 kilometres to reach his school, every single day.
“He was never one of those kids who would waste away their time. He would utilise every bit of it. It got me worried sometimes to see him sleep for just six hours a day,” she recalls.
Not a time-table but flexible time management
Unlike many students, Yashas does not believe in strategising. He studied whenever he could but with undeterred concentration.
“I did not use strategies, shortcuts or a strict routine. The road to school and back was long, and so I would utilise the time spent on the bus to study. Even between two classes, I would scroll through the chapters to clarify or note any doubts whatsoever. My teachers played a great part in my success. They would help me with all the doubts even beyond class hours,” says Yashas.
“All I did was to focus on what mattered the most so that in the future I could take care of more important things for my family,” he adds.
An aspiring IITian, Yashas plans to take up science in Class 11 and 12 and wants to grow up to dedicate himself to research in technology. He has already begun classes at the Vagdevi Bhavan PU College in Bengaluru.
Yashas with his mother and sister
Sharing his mantra to success, he adds, “Stage make-up can never take you far and I always reminded myself this word of caution. You should study from day 1, because delaying something, only leads to pressure piling up. That’s why I would study and finish one chapter at a time, with the school teacher. Consistency truly makes a difference.”
Kudos to Yashas. We hope that he and many like him, reach their best potential and do India proud!
The results of Class 10 and 12 CBSE Board exams are out. Many scored exceptional marks, some just about made it, and then there are the ones who did not manage to get the required marks to pass the examination.
While we celebrate and applaud the achievers, it is also crucial to acknowledge the ones who, despite having done terribly in their examinations, have done very well for themselves in life.
After all, there is more to life than just marks.
Manish Madan who is an Associate Professor of Criminal Justice at the School of Social and Behavioral Sciences (SOBL) at Stockton University has a fascinating story to share.
In a Facebook post, he writes about the day he received his board exam results.
“It was 21 years ago that I received my CBSE exam results and I tanked well beyond anyone’s imagination. I remember the day so vividly; it was like as if I had killed a dozen people.”
Dealing with a low score
It was one thing that he had done poorly, but his family had moved beyond his performance to wondering about what their relatives and friends would make of it.
Huddled together, they discussed their worries and tried to arrive at a ‘decent’ score that could be shared with everyone else.
From L to R- Manish, Nishtha, daughters Ivannah and Irena. Manish’s parents, Pranit and Sarika.
While all this was happening, Manish recounts how he answered a call from a family member, who wanted to know the score.
“Before we could have agreed on a percentage to tell, I announced my grade honestly, to the surprise and shock of everyone at home,” he says.
21 years later, Manish says that he is very proud of what he did that day. “I felt very proud of it actually, and to this day, I feel proud—for both, my near-failing grade and
my owning up the failure as an 18-year-old.”
Tough love
As he sat by himself later that evening, his father returned from work. Manish had expected his father to walk up and give him a consoling hug but what he did, left Manish surprised.
“My father walked up to me and handed Rs 100 to me and thanked me for not failing and saving the honour of the family. It was his way of showing me how disappointed he was in me, and it worked.”
A new day
The next morning Manish had a cricket match to play. There was palpable tension and stress in the house and uncertainty about whether he should step out, meet people, and even have fun.
Notwithstanding those traditional expectations, he left for the playground.
“Anyone who had scored 10 per cent more than me were on a different standing now and the ones in the same pool seemed to find joy in each other’s failures and started finding company in each other’s misery,” he says.
The boys have remained friends till this date, and whenever Manish travels back to India, they get together to relive those youthful moments.
L to R: Gagan Jain, Adarsh Raina, Manish Singh, Dheeraj Sethi, Manish Madan, and Ripin Tandon.
“We still find ways to get together and pick up the bat. At that time there were a lot of unanswered questions about the future, but the one thing we all knew was that giving up was never an option and we never did.”
Post Class 12 and current status
After passing out of school, Manish completed his BA (Mathematics) and MA (Statistics) from the University of Delhi.
He appeared for, and cleared the UPSC and CDS written exams seven times, in the hope of joining the Civil Services or the Indian Army as a lieutenant, like his older brother. However, he failed his interviews every time.
Despite these failures, he would tell himself, “I am better for something better.”
He decided to study further and earned a 100% scholarship to pursue another Masters in Canada, followed by a PhD in the US.
Today, as we have mentioned earlier, he is a professor and teaches college students at Stockton University.
Despite not scoring a first division in Class 12, and failing half a dozen SSB interviews, he looks back at his life with a lot of pride.
A younger Manish.
“That was actually first of many failures to come, and it helped me handle many other situations that life threw at me. Life will be full of academic, personal, professional failure but know that giving up is never an option, period!”
A few things that he recommends for all of us, especially students and their parents who are grappling with their marks or their disappointment, are:
– We need to be able to put things in perspective. No failure is a final failure.
– Life is not to be measured by one failure or even multiple failures; it is to be measured by your ability to respond to it, and how you bounce back.
– Let not your failure or disappointment in your results define who you are.
– Own up to your failures and know that you’re worth more than what your mark sheet may suggest.
– Convert your failures into challenges, and deal with them head-on.
– Finally, pick up the bat. Go and play that important match that your friends are expecting you to be at. You could be the one who wins the match for the team!
It is often the struggles in the path that make the person worthy of the success they achieve. What doesn’t kill you, makes you stronger, after all.
The Better India usually brings you success stories of people who have overcome physical, financial and academic difficulties to finally excel in their chosen fields. Each story is as unique as the challenges they have endured and provides glimpses of hope to those going through similar struggles.
Here is a list of five such IIT-ians who have overcome all odds to gain admission into one of the most prestigious educational institutions in the country.
Rajiv Dandotiya hails from a remote village in Rajasthan where education was given neither the attention nor the importance it deserves.
When he wrote his account for Ask IIT-ians, he said that his fellow students would take private lessons and mug up answers to pass in school. Teachers would favour these students.
Studying under trees and teaching himself the lessons that went untaught in empty classrooms, Rajiv scored 39% in his class 12 exams–securing the 5th rank in his class!
Since the marks left him with little choice but to appear for the IIT-JEE back in the 1990s, Rajiv gave his all in preparations. He studied hard, convinced his mentors of his aim and completed his degree from IIT Kharagpur.
Today, he has earned a PhD from Sweden and is working as an Assistant General Manager in Denmark.
Rajiv’s dedicated efforts show that more than the educational infrastructure, it is you who can overcome the challenges to secure your dream.
2. Teenaged sons of a farmer who cracked the tough exam
Satyam and Shivam Kumar both cleared the JEE exam in their early teens. While Shivam secured an All India Rank of 383 at the age of 15, Satyam became the youngest student to crack the exam at the age of 12–he was a preteen at the time!
Speaking to India Today, the child prodigy said that he was brought to Patna from Bakhorapur when he was just six-years-old!
But his brilliance in academics was evident from that tender age. Following a strict regime of early-to-bed and early-to-rise, Satyam studied with passion and achieved what most of us would deem impossible.
For Abhishek Bhartiya, the struggle is not just about the difficult chapters in his books. He helps his father–a cobbler–who earns between Rs 60-70 in his workshop, while his mother stitches rags to support their family.
Overcoming these financial hardships, Abhishek studied hard for the IIT entrance and made sure that his parents’ troubles didn’t go in vain.
Speaking to Silicon India, his father said, “We have just one small room where six of us live and that too, without electricity. So, he used to study under the lantern for five-six hours in the night… I am worried about the fees. From where can I manage the amount? This question is troubling my mind…”
But when Abhishek secured the 154th rank in the SC category of the 2015 IIT entrance test, the happiness of the Bhattacharya family knew no bounds. He secured admission at IIT-Kanpur.
4. A Betel Seller’s son who scored 99.56% in JEE Main
Shubham Chaurasia’s academic excellence is as awe-inspiring as is the story of his struggles. While his father could not afford to educate him after class 10, a tuition class came to his aid and ensured that the hardworking student got what he deserved.
Speaking to The Better India, Shubham said, “My father is a betel seller, who struggled through many hardships to educate me. After I completed class 10, it became apparent that he wouldn’t be able to further fund my education. I had almost given up hope when I came across Magadh Super 30… The selected students stay at the Institute for two years, where they get proper guidance, free lodging, as well as food. Sometimes, older students come back here to help the current batch.”
You can read a detailed account of his struggles and success here.
Naga Naresh Karutura was born in an underprivileged family in Andhra Pradesh. His father is a lorry driver and his mother is a homemaker.
In 1993, Naresh met with a terrible accident when he fell off a lorry and lost both his legs.
Not one to seek pity from the situation, he insists that his life did not change dramatically after the incident.
Even after the accident, he focused all his attention on his studies and cleared the IIT-JEE exam with an AIR of 992.
An optimist through and through, Naresh believes that the world is full of good people. One example he gives is of a man named Sundar, who after hearing Naresh’s story, came forward to pay his hostel fee.
He cracked the entrance exam with flying colours and maintained his excellence throughout the course at IIT Madras. Since he was passionate about computer science, algorithms, and game theory, when Google offered him a job, he took it with arms wide open.
When life throws lemons at you, and you feel demotivated or too weak to pursue your passion, amazing stories like these are a great dose to up that confidence. Your struggles are here to make you stronger and all you need is to endure through them.
(Edited by Shruti Singhal)
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“An exam is just a qualifier, not a judge of your merit or the measure of your dreams”- is what my father used to tell me just before an important examination.
A few years down the line, and I found the same lines echo through the life of this 27-year-old, who has inspired thousands with his missed attempts to crack the Civil Services Exam (CSE).
Meet Akand Sitra, an Indian Institute of Technology, Madras (IITM) alumnus who managed to establish his career in the government services, despite missing the mark in UPSC exams by a thin margin. Today, he is a Quora celebrity, who has been guiding and inspiring thousands of CSE aspirants in their path to serving the nation.
“I have taken many exams in the past few years. Much like life, you pass in some and fail in others. But, there is always something to learn. For me, it was the realisation that the objective is not to crack the test as it is just the first step-a qualifier. The main aim is to achieve what’s beyond it, a passion and a career milestone. So the focus should be there, as it’s not necessary that only one path would lead to it. There are many other ways,” says Akand, in conversation with The Better India (TBI).
He took the CSE in 2013, 2014, and in 2015 and although he missed these by a few marks, he ended up finding himself working with the Ministry of Home Affairs, only a couple of months later, in 2016.
A long, hard and fulfilling uphill trek
After graduating with a BTech in Biotechnology from IIT-M, Akand found a place in a prominent software company in Bengaluru. However, for him, this was far from an achievement for which he was aiming. He wanted more.
“Even after placement, I couldn’t go back to “relax mode”. I knew it was somehow not something I truly wanted to do. I wanted to help people in a “policy-making” way. This was somehow not a fit,” said Akand, who continued his quest for self-discovery, even after joining work in 2013.
With his heart elsewhere, he decided to apply for CSE again and after a few months of preparation, managed to clear the prelims.
“I somehow realised that this journey of going back to the old subjects like geography, history, politics, etc. was fascinating to me. I enjoyed learning, much more than the hours I spent at work or on travel. So, I took the hard decision, and quit my job to dedicate myself entirely for the preparation,” adds Akand.
With the support of his parents and an overarching passion for learning, Akand managed to give the Mains successfully.
“I was waiting for my results and wanted to use the free time fruitfully. That is when I came across Quora, which was slowly becoming popular. So, I thought the platform to be a good way to share the knowledge gained during my preparations while continuing my practice of writing and opining about vital issues,” he shares.
Akand continued to write on an array of topics like the education sector, politics, and the oil industry, among others. Fortunately, at that time, there were more readers than writers from India, and his answers gained popularity, and within six months, he gained about 1000 followers.
But, in April 2014, after the CSE Interview, the results arrived, and Akand could not make the cut by just 10-15 marks.
Refusing to give up, he decided to give another attempt, while continuing his practice on Quora.
“I was so close, but missed it. I knew I had to try again. But, I was losing confidence. I had wasted one whole year and was without a job. I felt emotionally weak. Yet, I was determined. All I told myself was this was just one way. And, picking up the pieces from there, I started to explore options of other competitive exams that would allow me to work for the country,” said Akand, who, in 2015, sat for the Reserve Bank of India Exam and also took the test to join the Intelligence Bureau of India.
Once again, he cleared the UPSC Prelims and Mains as well as the RBI exam but saw failure again in the CSE Interview. But, life had something else in store for him, as he cracked the Intelligence Bureau (IB) recruitment with flying colours, landing himself the position of an Assistant Central Intelligence Officer (ACIO).
After a 3-month-long background verification, he joined the IB in May 2016. Simultaneously, he continued to write on Quora about his journey, among other topics.
“I joined the Ministry of Home Affairs in 2016, and was trained at the IB training centre, Shivpuri and then in National Intelligence Academy, Delhi. Eventually, they posted me in Bihar, where I worked for a few months, before being awarded independent posting in Bairgania, a small village on Indo-Nepal border. Known to be a sensitive naxal area, the work experience there was challenging and enriching. It was at that time that I was able to serve during the 2017 floods,” he said.
You can find a detailed account of the incident here
Demystifying the civil services exams
In India, the CSE is considered as one of the toughest and most sought after competitive tests, with a success rate of only 0.2 per cent. Thousands of youth, dedicate years of their lives, spending more than 10 hours daily preparing for the test. Despite knowing that only two out of 1000 would finally make it.
Akand’s journey and his Quora account has, however, put forth an alternative narrative to the race. Demystifying the coveted exam, he has helped many realise their dream.
“If you want to work in the government or for your country, UPSC is not the only way. A lot of people give the exams for the allure of power and position, which is great, but I want people to see that there is more than one way to reach it,” he said.
A personal incident also motivated his objective. “One of my best friends was about to kill himself after he failed to crack the test post the 7th attempt. That shook me and opened my eyes to the reality of how tons of Indians every year are caught in this vicious cycle. After my multiple attempts, even I was falling into it but stopped in time,” Akands shares.
He realised that happiness was not passing one exam, but achieving what was beyond it. So, instead of being stuck on the same path, he began exploring other avenues in its vicinity, and sharing that knowledge with others.
Over the past four years on Quora, he has answered more than 300 questions, gaining a following of almost 60,000 subscribers.
Click here to read Akand’s answer to how one can work with the Prime Minister’s Office without clearing civil services.
A two-forked junction, once again
After serving for almost three years, he decided it was time to quit.
“Your career cannot be stagnant because as an individual, you are constantly learning and evolving. For me, I realised that as much as I enjoyed my work, I was more interested in being at the policy-drafting stage, rather than following orders of implementation. I wanted to take a break, prepare myself better and get back into the government through lateral entries,” added Akand who quit his IB post and joined Indian School of Business (ISB), Hyderabad in April 2019, to pursue MBA.
Having gathered enough skills, he wants to make his way back into the field as a public policy consultant shortly.
As a piece of advice to aspirants, he adds that one should never be afraid to quit to achieve what they love and believe in. Quitting the rat-race and following what you truly love, is the first stage of achievement because life is too short for doing something you don’t like, he says.
“Because, at the end of the day, UPSC is not the end of the tunnel, it is just one of the tunnels that will lead you to the end. If not that, you have many more tunnels to take!” the inspiring Quora celebrity concluded!
In 1999, when 29-year-old PK Muraleedharan left for Nenmanalkudy, a tribal settlement in Kerala’s Idukki district, little did he know that his life was to change forever.
Muraleedharan was a volunteer with Kerala’s District Primary Education Project (DPEP), which had to set up Multi-Grade Learning Centres (MGLC) in remote tribal locations across the state and run these as single-teacher schools.
At that time, the only tribal LP (lower primary) school was in Edamalakkudy. It was supposed to cater to children from 28 oorugal (tribal) settlements, which were scattered across the forested region.
However, some of these settlements were so far away that it would take an entire day or two for children to travel to school. Additionally, the trail was heavily dense with wildlife which served as a major deterrent.
Taking cognisance of these issues, the state education department decided to open single teacher schools in these settlements, and Muraleedharan was one of the volunteers sent for this mission.
Nenmanalkudy was home to the Muthuvans, a reclusive tribal community known for its unwavering adherence to their ancient customs and practices. Also, the kooragal (small huts) here were scattered across a forest replete with reed bamboo and not in close vicinity of each other as observed in most tribal settlements across India.
Muraleedharan was aware of what he was getting into, but he hadn’t foreseen the many barriers that he would have to overcome.
“There were about 35 children aged between 5-15, who had no prior schooling experience. There were no infrastructural facilities, and the only available option was a small shed, which was a former granary,” recalls Muraleedharan, or Murali Maash as he is lovingly referred by the community, to The Better India.
The unavailability of a proper school building wasn’t the only problem he would face.
First, there were no teaching materials. “Let alone a blackboard, the state education department did not even allocate any notebooks or slates for the kids,” he shares. Second, the children didn’t have any clothes other than the ones they were wearing, and an inherent lack of hygienic practices was evident in their way of living.
Furthermore, they were not exposed to routine or discipline, making it impossible to get them to sit together to study.
“In the Muthuvan community, children are exposed to the wilderness from the time they are about three months old, and there is no restriction regarding movement. This makes them unaccustomed to closed spaces. So, getting them to sit together in a class was extremely difficult,” he says.
But one thing would prove to be the ultimate barrier—language.
The dialect used by the Muthavans has its roots in Tamil and is exclusive to their community.
“I’d never come across the dialect before, and apart from a few male elders, who could somewhat understand Malayalam, no one knew any language other than their own. Here I was, entrusted with the responsibility of teaching these kids, but how would that be possible when the closest we came to communication in the initial days was through improvised sign language?” he says.
To overcome this issue, instead of teaching them Malayalam, Muraleedharan decided to begin with exposing them to the importance of good hygiene and sanitary practices.
“I would take the men to the nearest stream in the forest so that they could bathe and wash their clothes. Since they had nothing else to wear, we’d wait till these dried up. That is how the initial months were,” remembers Muraleedharan.
Slowly, he started to pick up their dialect, and to familiarise the kids with Malayalam, he began to teach them songs and rhymes and make them sing along with him.
Murali Maash.
While he was hoping for a positive change, things did not go as planned. The number of children going to school kept dwindling until there were only three kids, who were all from family.
Muraleedharan couldn’t figure out what had happened, so he began visiting every single hut in the area. To his surprise, they were all empty, and there was no sign of human presence anywhere.
“After a three day investigation, I found out that the entire community had migrated to an ooru (singular for tribal settlement) named Vazhakuthu, where cardamom farming was underway. They were planning to return to Nenmanalkudy only when the harvesting was over,” says Muraleedharan.
Understanding that they had a better scope of livelihood in Vazhakuthu, Muraleedharan decided to stay on and continue his role in the new ooru. Here, he would be teaching 55 kids from both colonies.
The classes were held in a small structure named sathram, where teenage boys and unmarried and widowed men lived together.
The sanitary conditions in Vazhakuthu were the same as Nenmanalkudy, and Muraleedharan had to run through the same cleanliness initiatives as before.
His continued dedication and eagerness to learn the language eventually helped him break the ice, and he established a good rapport with the kids. He also adapted his teaching ways to suit their needs.
For example, he understood that they were not used to the four walls of a classroom, and would instead conduct lessons outside. He also began to get more involved in community activities.
As DPEP hadn’t provided these teachers with learning materials or resources, they were left to figure out innovative ways to teach the kids entirely on their own, using a monthly allowance of Rs 750.
Muraleedharan spent money from his own pocket to purchase notebooks, stationery and picture charts for them.
“The charts were all relatively new for the children, as they had never seen most of the things included in them. Slowly, we progressed to writing basic Malayalam, starting with names of things and animals around them,” he adds.
This, too, was an arduous task as there was no common ground between both tongues. So, Muraleedharan taught them how to write names of things and beings from their dialect but in the Malayalam script.
“I also got them to recite and write songs from their community, to help them present something in front of a group. Around this time, DPEP provided me with various multigrade training programmes entirely focused on teaching tribal kids from different age groups together. It wasn’t possible to follow the state syllabus here, so one had to improvise with systems like flash cards. This proved to be a rather successful methodology and became a self-teaching tool,” Muraleedharan remembers.
The mechanism also helped him differentiate between kids who were fast learners, and the ones who were not. He then made groups with mixed capacities, where quick learners would help out the late bloomers.
By then, three years had passed, and Muraleedharan became well versed with the Muthuvan dialect. This helped him bridge the gap with the womenfolk and converse with them.
“I would speak to them about the importance of education, and how that could prevent them in so many ways. There was a time when these parents would consider these classes as a waste of time, but they eventually saw the benefits of doing so,” he adds.
However, Muraleedharan’s problems were far from over. This mode of education could never equal the teaching methods in mainstreams school or their syllabus. Another major roadblock was was that the kids were much older than their city or town counterparts.
Also, the UP (upper primary) schools were in towns like Adimali and Munnar, which required travelling for a day through the jungles on foot, and then taking a bus. The parents were simply unwilling to take the risk.
“I was adamant and wanted to help a few deserving kids progress further, so I took a risk and managed to successfully get them enrolled in a school in Adimali in 2003. I was responsible for getting them to school and home safely,” Murali remembers.
All this time, Muraleedharan lived with the Muthavans at their sathram and ate whatever they would cultivate and consume themselves, mostly including paddy and ragi.
“There was no other way because one couldn’t travel this far to the depths of the forested area on foot. However, living there helped me not just educate the young ones but also the adults and elders of the community,” he adds.
Muraleedharan also helped the tribal community become aware of the local governance system and how things worked. Seeking help at both political and government levels, he helped them get voter IDs as well as ration cards.
In 2008, the increasing wild animal attacks forced the community to move from Vazhakuthu to an area named Olakkayam. A few huts already existed there, and the children from these houses also became Muraleedharan’s students.
This move proved beneficial for the Muthuvans, in terms of a stable income. Though they were traditional farmers, they would rarely produce anything other than grains and cardamom. Thanks to Muraleedharan’s intervention, they began growing and selling pepper.
“The Employment Guarantee scheme was already functioning across the country, and I felt that it would benefit the community, so I travelled to Munnar, where I met the regional scheme coordinator. He came back with me to collect the necessary documents of all interested individuals. By this time, Kudumbashree had also spread its wings in the region and helped the women earn a livelihood through various agrarian initiatives. Things slowly began to look better for the Muthuvans,” he adds.
In 2011, Muraleedharan started an adult literacy drive wherein the children taught their elders to read and write.
During this time, Muraleedharan also penned down two books, Edamalakkudy Orrum Porulum and Gothramanasam, both of which cover the history and life of the Muthuvans in detail.
“There was no electricity in these areas. One had to walk for kilometres to purchase kerosene for lamps. So, simple hearths were what illuminated these oorugal, and I would write these books in that light. This was our life in the woods,” says Muraleedharan.
He also remembers the struggle of feeding the children during school hours. “The midday meal scheme was yet to come, and even then, it would take a long time before our children would be able to access these benefits. I took it upon myself to provide these kids with kanji (rice gruel) at noon, as most of them probably came to study on empty stomachs. It was only after 2005 that I started receiving an allowance of Rs 8 per child from the state,” he adds.
While certain aspects of the education system had significantly become better, Muraleedharan knew that there was a lot of change still needed.
It would, however, take a decade for this to happen.
In 2017, Muraleedharan and other like-minded teachers teamed up and formed a cluster of five single teacher schools in Edamalakkudy, with support from SCERT (Kerala).
“We zeroed in on the tribal community hall in the Mulagathara area, and today, four teachers (including me) run the schools. We also offer lodging to kids who can’t travel every day. They stay here from Monday to Friday and go home over the weekends,” he explains.
He further shares that this establishment has managed to progress from the initial multigrade structure to a class-like system, which follows the state syllabus for tribal schools, mainly because most kids have learnt Malayalam by now.
As they were now following the class system and lodging, the kids had to be provided with three meals and evening snacks.
“But we only had funds for midday meals. Thankfully, many of our friends, folks at SCERT as well as VV Shaji, a social activist and educationist, offered to help. In fact, Ramesh, a research officer from SCERT, became a close acquaintance. I also contributed eight months’ salary for this purpose, ” adds Muraleedharan.
Finally, the Edamalakkudy panchayat offered to help, and since January last year, the funds to provide the meals for morning and night is supplied by them. The local body also provided an amount of Rs 3.5 lakhs to upgrade the school.
“With that money, we were able to buy chairs and desks for the kids, as well as necessary resources like whiteboards, mic sets, a computer, a projector as well as a generator for the school, since electricity is still a problem here,” he proudly adds.
The school even has a library, about which you can read more here.
As for the kids who were staying at the school, Suneesh Babu, the DySP of the Janamaithri police station, and SI Fakhruddin and ASI Madhu in Munnar, provided them with mattresses and pillows.
In addition to that, they also bought bags, umbrellas, notebooks and other supplies for the kids and chairs for the teachers.
Muraleedharan says that the constant monitoring from SCERT researchers has been helpful. There is immense support from all these quarters as well as national bodies like the Child Rights Commission and the Parent-Teacher Association (PTA).
“Today, I can say that the school gives equal value to academics as well as art and cultural activities. I feel that these kids are happy and that they’re no less than any other child across the state,” he says.
As we conclude one man’s two-decade-long journey of bringing education to one of the most remote tribal regions in Kerala, we wonder about his personal life and if that ever came in the way of his selfless commitment to the cause.
“My wife was a teacher, just like me, and passionate about this cause. Sadly, she passed away in 2006. I have a son and daughter, and because of the nature of my work, I had to leave my kids with my parents in Mankulam. I visit them every month end and spend a day or two before returning to the tribal settlements. My son has just completed his degree while my daughter is in Class 8,” he informs us.
Murali Maash is no less than a living legend for the Muthuvans.
Eschewing a life of comfort, he wholeheartedly embraced uncertainty, discomfort and risks for the welfare, upliftment and most importantly, education, of an extremely reclusive tribal community who consider him as one of their own.
We salute this teacher and hope his incredible story inspires you all.
Santosh: It is my Fundamental Right to sing in a free period.
Mansi: But don’t you think that no Right is absolute? If your singing disturbs me, then I have the right to object. Ma’am are fundamental rights conditional or unconditional?
The discussion, in broken English, between the 10-year-olds, about the Constitution, continued in a small room of a Government Primary School in Gejha, Noida.
Beside the lively conversation about Indian democracy, the class five students from underprivileged backgrounds have also been a part of eleven other co-curricular activities like math and science quizzes, environment-related workshops, public speaking, atlas games, and essay writing among others, that were carried out in the academic year 2018-2019.
Though conducted in the school, the program was organised by Books For All (BFA), an NGO that aspires to empower underprivileged children through fun learning activities and even libraries.
The origin of BFA dates back to 2009, when Pravin Bhasin along with his wife Kanchan visited Gejha’s school near Sector 93 Noida to collect their voter ID Cards.
In an exclusive interview with The Better India (TBI), Pravin says,
Classrooms sans benches, whiteboards and other basic facilities pushed us to speak to the teaching faculty of the school. We helped them get floor mats for students to sit on during the winter months. The mats were not enough, and I wanted to do something more concrete and impactful.
Pravin, an engineer by profession, was then a work-from-home consultant, and that allowed him to dedicate quality time to his initiative. He and his wife founded BFA.
So why open a library?
“Books are a child’s best friend, and also excellent teachers,” says the 73-year-old. “Reading books from a very young age helps develop the mind, communication skills, creativity and imagination. Reading opens a plethora of doors to new things, information, hobbies and interests.”
He was further encouraged by an article on John Wood who, after quitting his Microsoft job, launched Room to Read, an initiative along similar lines.
Pravin Bhasin (centre) founder of Books for All
Pravin requested the school to provide him with a room where he could set up the library. While he awaited permission, he reached out to his neighbours, relatives and friends to donate books.
In the beginning, the response was slow, but once it picked up, BFA received close to 400 books!
After finding out about Pravin’s initiative, parents of the school children too donated chairs, tables, benches, whiteboards, stationery and so on.
The volunteer-based organisation decorated the classroom with books, charts, posters to create an energetic environ for the children.
One of the government school libraries started by BFA
A full-time librarian was also appointed on a payroll basis. The volunteers pitched in for her salary.
He officially launched the library on January 30, 2010. The NGO also got several volunteers comprising mostly of homemakers and teenagers studying in private schools.
However, Pravin soon found out that the children in the primary section who were keen on reading beyond their regular curriculum couldn’t even finish one sentence in English.
Their basic understanding of English was worse than class one kid studying in a private school. I was concerned as to how these kids would compete with the outside world without basic knowledge, says Pravin.
Most of the school students belong to the migrant families making them first generation learners. Hence, they have no other means to study besides classrooms.
With permission from the school, Pravin and his team of volunteers started remedial classes to help the kids with basic writing and learning during school hours.
Remedial classes help students cope up with the syllabus
“It is so inspiring, and at the same time, sad to see how excited and committed the kids are to learn new things. Lack of resources and opportunities often deprive the brilliant minds of the stimulus they need. Many of them are unaware of their capabilities, talents and interests which is also a reason that stall their professional growth,” Deepa Senghar, a former Indian Railway Service official tells TBI. The 64-year-old is one of the core team members.
Seeing the positive response for his initiative, Pravin retired in 2015. He and his team have now opened seven such library-cum-classrooms in Delhi NCR. Corporates and well-wishers have donated funds.
Around 20 volunteers dedicate around six hours per week to students studying between class 1 and 8. 2,000 kids are impacted every year through BFA.
BFA Volunteers
To ensure the all-round development of the students, they are engaged in extracurricular activities like singing, dancing, public speaking, sports, waste management, and so on. It is through such activities that the volunteers identify the true potential of the children.
Every student is talented, and as soon as we identify it, we help them hone their skills. We also encourage them to take it up as a hobby. You might never know what skill may affirmatively impact the kid, says Deepa.
Sponsoring the Kids
BFA has sponsored education of children
BFA also sponsors the education of a few select children based on the donors. For instance, eleven children from the government schools have been shifted to English-medium CBSE schools and all the expenses are being borne by donors. Around eight of them have been shifted to private Hindi medium schools.
The sponsored kids require a tremendous amount of hand-holding as the new environment, teachers and curriculum can be overwhelming. The volunteers dedicate extra hours to these kids after school and help them cope up with the syllabus, says Pravin.
The sponsorship project is moderately successful, believes Pravin. Of the total sponsored kids, three of the girls scored above 75 per cent and a couple above 65 per cent in the recently announced CBSE class 10 results.
BFA maintains complete transparency as it sends progress reports to the sponsors every six months. During the PTA meetings, BFA volunteers accompany the parents to get a progress report directly from the teaching faculty.
Counselling Sessions
BFA also provides counselling sessions
To ensure that the children set a professional goal post-schooling, BFA also provides counselling sessions to them. Depending on their likes and dislikes, the students are given opportunities mostly to develop their vocational skills.
People from different professional backgrounds like engineering, army, travel and tourism, health, and fashion are invited to give talks to the children.
In one of the sessions presided over by members of Indian Army Wives Association, around seven children were inspired, who now are undergoing a vocational training course with the association.
Making An Impact
In my nine-year-old journey, I have seen a drastic change in these children in terms of behaviour, communication and knowledge. Now the kids want to form their own identity, and for that, they are ready to work harder and stay committed. Till now I had only heard that education plays an integral role, now I am actually witnessing it right in front of my eyes, says Pravin.
The Better India spoke to two students – Nisha Vishwakar and Rajkumar Chaudhary, to know their take on BFA. Here’s what they had to say:
Nisha, Class 11, Noida Kanya Inter College
In 9th I got a sponsor and was shifted to a Hindi-medium private school. In terms of teaching, there is a huge difference between the two schools. Here teachers are more involved and approachable. BFA is the reason why I started reading books, and every novel has a lesson, says the 17-year-old.
Nisha wishes to become a teacher so that like her other children are not deprived of a good teacher. She also wants to become a Collector to provide good governance to people.
Rajkumar, Class 9, Noida Education Academy
After studying in a Hindi-medium school till class five, learning in English in my new school was difficult. For an entire month, I attended extra classes at BFA and in my first exam that was conducted in English, I got Grade A. I have around 50 books that I borrowed from BFA. Reading books has improved my vocabulary.
Elaborating on his love for kho kho and exercises, he says, “I never knew I could run so fast until I joined my new school. Now I love sports and play in my free time.”
Rajkumar aspires to join IIT-Kharagpur
Rajkumar aspires to join IIT-Kharagpur and become a software engineer. He wants to fight against the hacking system.
Rajkumar’s father Mahadev, a vegetable vendor, never expected his son to get higher education, let alone study in an English medium private school.
Rajkumar is the first person in our entire family to get education post class eight. His determination to become an engineer makes me very proud, Mahadev tells TBI.
Nisha and Rajkumar are two of the hundreds of kids whose lives have changed for good after their entry in BFA. Pravin and his team wish to expand the initiative depending on the funds and books.
Do you remember the covers on your school textbooks?
I cannot remember mine for the simple reason that I never found them attractive. I preferred covering the books with brown covers than look at their dull colours and dispirited animations.
I cannot speak for everyone, but Kathir Arumugam from Tamil Nadu echoes my complaints.
However, unlike most of us, Kathir is fixing boring textbook covers by replacing them with eye-catching and captivating designs.
The 33-year-old has been hired by the Tamil Nadu State Board to redesign textbook covers and make them interesting enough for children to judge the books by their covers!
Ironically, Kathir is a school dropout who quit studying when he was in the ninth grade.
A Journey That Started With Quitting
Kathir quit school in ninth grade
At a time when his classmates were planning their futures and deciding which college to go to, Kathir’s decision to quit school was not an easy one.
A native of Arachalur, a small village near Erode, Kathir was in the ninth grade when he realised that even if he cleared his 10th boards, he wouldn’t be able to afford college. Besides, he knew that his real calling was in the field of art.
After his father passed away, his mother worked as a daily wage labourer and juggled odd jobs to raise her two sons.
Speaking to The Better India about his interest in art, Kathir says,
I remember every art camp that was conducted in our school every year. For me, drawing and painting were as good as meditation.
While Kathir was passionate about his art, he was aware of its limited monetary scope.
Thus, he decided to study financial management, but his qualification or the lack of it, came in the way.
Although struggling to support himself and his family, he pursued his passion in art
After he quit school, he took menial jobs, at places from where he could learn and grow. For instance, he worked as a tea boy in a design company in Erode.
We lived on a hand-to-mouth existence as my mother was the sole earner and used to earn Rs 80 per day. I wanted to help her, but at the same time, not give up on my dreams, so I found a mid-way, he says.
It was here, at this very designing company, that he was first introduced to the concept of graphic designing. Every day, he would serve chai to the graphic team, and study their work in detail.
He was hired by the Tamil Nadu State Board to design textbook covers last year
Someone told me about the graphic designing course where I could polish my art, but the classes would cost Rs 4,000. It was a huge amount for me, so I continued working, Kathir adds.
From painting houses for Sri Lankan refugees, working as a construction labourer to delivering newspapers, Kathir worked hard to buy the necessary stationery to practice art at home.
I knew that I would be tied up in jobs and eventually forget my talent. I took conscious efforts to save money and time. A person does not become an artist overnight. It takes days of practice to master the art, he says.
Once he saved up enough to afford the classes, he enrolled in them. But leaving the job to pursue his passion was not an option.
From 8 pm-5 am, he worked in a night shift and at 6 am, he attended the class. He travelled every day for 20 kilometres from the class, “I am very grateful to my teachers for letting me pay my fee in instalments and complete my course in six months instead of three.”
Finding Recognition: Up and Onwards
One of the covers designed by Kathir
Kathir had several mentors who inspired him to improve his art. Shivaraj from Cuckoo Forest School was one of his first gurus who introduced him to the world of books.
“He gifted me a book by Vincent Van Gogh. The Dutch post-impressionist painter’s articulation of Western art helped me concentrate on minor details, which can make a lot of difference. Shiva anna also introduced me to artists from Chennai and took me to various art galleries,” he says.
One of the artists liked his work and got him a job at a regional magazine in Tamil Nadu. Working as a cover designer for five years was the turning point of his life.
Kathir then went on to design book covers for noted Tamil authors like Sujatha, S Ramakrishna, Bala Kumaran, Jeyamohan and so on.
Kathir has also designed covers for noted Tamil authors like Sujatha, S Ramakrishna
In 2018, Kathir’s life took another turn after he received a call from IAS officer and collector T Udhayachandran from the Tamil Nadu Text Book Corporation.
“They were looking for a designer who could design quirky covers for children. It was a proud moment for me when the State Board approached a school dropout to design school textbook covers. My prayers were answered,” he chuckles.
Kathir has so far designed over 400 book covers for students from Classes 1-12. He now works at a designing lab in Nungambakkam, designing textbooks.
Kathir has so far designed over 400 book covers for students from Class 1-12
When asked his secret recipe behind designing attractive covers, Kathir answers,
It should have a message disguised under the creative image. It is not very difficult to design such covers. I only have to think like a child while doing so.
The Way Forward
Designing covers that incite curiosity in young readers
Kathir wishes to start his own art classes to help children who cannot afford expensive sessions. In addition, he also wants to develop Tamil font styles.
“There are thousands of font styles available for the English language but very few for Tamil. I want to work on newer font styles,” he concludes.
As for his family’s financial condition, it has improved significantly, especially since Kathir’s work is now being recognised.
Didi, agar hum ek ho jaye, toh bada kaam kar sakte hai?”
“Haan haan, kyun nahi!”
These lines from the song “Ek Chidiya Anek Chidiya,” which retold the fable about a flock of birds escaping certain death, are a part of the 7-minute long animated film Ek, Anek aur Ekta.
Through its protagonist, an elder sibling who is imparting a valuable life lesson to her brother, the film introduced children to the concept of unity in diversity in a way that was incredibly easy to understand.
Unsurprisingly, the film holds a very special place in the hearts of children who grew up in the seventies and eighties.
The film was directed by Vijaya Mulay, a renowned filmmaker, film historian, researcher and educationist, who passed away on 19 May 2019.
Speaking to the Indian Express, Suhasini Mulay, her daughter, said, “It was just old age. She was 98. She had no illnesses of an ageing person. Her blood pressure was fine. Her heartbeat was fine. She didn’t have diabetes or anything like that. But as she grew older, she became weaker and was eating less.”
The 98-year-old lived quite a rich life, and her body of work is proof of this.
A Bombay girl, Mulay shifted to Patna at the age of 20 with her husband, when he was transferred there.
Initially, she struggled with adjusting to her surroundings. Patna was, after all, very different from cosmopolitan Bombay. However, when she found out that Patna University allowed women to study privately, she enrolled for a Bachelor’s degree.
The freedom struggle was at its peak during this time, and Mulay had a strong sense of contempt towards the imperialistic British.
However, entertainment, in terms of English films, came cheap on Sunday mornings, so she would head to the theatres to watch them at discounted rates. Eventually, she fell in love with the medium and became a passionate cinephile.
In 1946, Mulay won a scholarship to pursue her Master’s degree in Education at the University of Leeds. Here, she could explore film genres that were utterly alien to her.
“The Workers’ Unity Theatre played to full houses, and films from the Soviet Union and Eastern Europe ran often. I saw film classics, experimental films, and socialist cinema. I also gained a better perspective and understanding of cinematic art by joining the university film society. Film viewing, once a casual pastime, became my serious passion,” she noted.
In 1949, when she returned to Patna after completing her degree, she started working in local film societies.
Not a typical filmmaker
In the 50s, she was appointed as an Education Officer by the Government of India but her journey with films continued.
She founded the Delhi Film Society in 1959 and later, eight such film societies came together to form the Federation of Film Societies of India (FFSI).
While her close friend, Satyajit Ray was the founding president of FFSI, Mulay was a joint secretary.
Mulay’s debut documentary, “The Tidal Bore,” about a giant swell of water moving up from the Bay of Bengal to the river Hooghly, was one of her well-recognised projects.
Ray and Louis Malle, a French filmmaker and her close friend, had helped her in the production.
Speaking to the Mumbai Mirror, Suhasini said, “Getting hold of raw stock was a huge problem those days. Renowned French filmmaker Louis Malle and a group of people sent her raw stock from Paris.”
In 1974, Mulay directed Ek, Anek aur Ekta. The film that begins on a light mode ends with Vinay Chandra Maudgalya’s composition, Hind Desh Ke Niwasi. The film won the National Award for Best Educational Film.
“To me, it appeared that the most strong point of India has been to live with diversity and profit from it. I wanted to communicate this to children and relate it to their own experience. So I wrote a script that children would understand and enjoy,” the nonagenarian had told the New York Times in 2012. “I think [the message is relevant even today]. Our country is now facing difficult times, with people being led to hate and see others different from them as outsiders. We have to keep on reminding ourselves that diversity is our greatest strength, and unity in diversity is something that we have managed to follow, which is very important. And it has to be cherished.”
Four decades have passed since the film was released, but it remains Mulay’s most iconic creation, and its teachings still stand strong.
We hope that it continues to inspire generations to come.
(Edited by Gayatri Mishra)
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For nearly 800 children of brick kiln labourers from Western Odisha working in Telangana, the faint hope of accessing formal education has become a reality.
Thanks to the collective efforts of the Rachakonda Police Commissionerate, the District Collectors of Yadadri Bhuvanagiri and Rangareddy, the Brick Kiln Owners Association in Telangana and global non-profit Aide et Action, these children will now go back to their homes in Odisha in the upcoming academic year starting July and enroll in Odia-medium schools instead of getting caught in the vicious cycle of child labour.
With assistance from the Odisha government as well, these children can now aspire to break out of the poverty trap that has ensnared their parents.
In 2016, Aide et Action began a small-scale initiative to help a few children of migrant brick kiln workers in Telangana access basic education in and around their parents’ work sites. The initiative has now grown into a successful education project spread across nine worksite schools.
Children at worksite schools in Yadadri Bhuvanagiri District. (Source: Aide et Action)
Scaling up efforts
“Operational Smile is a programme envisioned by the Ministry of Home Affairs, Government of India, under which the police department, in coordination with other government departments, rescue and rehabilitate children working in hazardous industries. Driving these efforts in my area of jurisdiction, which includes the districts of Yadadri Bhuvanagiri, Rangareddy and Medak, we formed teams and conducted multiple operations,” says Rachakonda Police Commissioner, Mahesh M Bhagwat, in conversation with The Better India (TBI).
In one such January 2017 operation near Choutuppal town in Yadadri Bhuvanagiri district, the police team rescued around 180 children working in brick kilns who were not going to school. Some of these children even had their parents working in the same kilns.
After this operation, the police immediately received a tip-off about another brick kiln factory employing children nearby. They rescued another 170 children who were reportedly being paid a measly Rs 10,000 for six months work.
After booking 16 brick kiln owners under various provisions of the law, including human trafficking, the police had to figure out what to do with these 350 children from Odisha.
“What were we going to do with these children? Where could we send them? Keeping them in a children’s home wasn’t advisable,” says Commissioner Bhagwat.
Once these children are rescued, they are either sent back to their villages or reunited with their families. Since some of them were already living with their parents in small huts at the brick kiln worksite, the Commissioner began looking for an alternative to rehabilitate them.
Fortunately, Aide et Action already had the worksite-schools model in place, where it would bring teacher volunteers, either high school graduates or college dropouts, from the home districts of these migrant workers to teach them in Odia-medium.
These ‘worksite schools’ are essentially under-attended Telugu-medium government schools, where volunteer teachers use the school premises to teach in Odia.
Lessons learnt in their native Odia. (Source: Aide et Action)
“What worked for us is that many of these schools had meager local attendance and this gave migrant children the space to learn. There is one school where the number of local children was around 17, but the number of migrant children was 130. We enrolled around 20-30 volunteers, who were being paid around Rs 8000 per month by the respective district administrations and brick kiln owners association,” says Daniel Umi, Director of Migration and Education, South Asia at Aide et Action, in a conversation with The Better India (TBI).
For these worksite schools, teachers were brought in from Bolangir, Nuapada, Kalahandi, and Nabrangpur districts, which have been facing drought-like conditions for the past three years. Daniel played a crucial role in establishing Odia-medium schools in Telangana.
“We approached the police commissioner, asking if the authorities would like to expand this programme, and bring in more schools. By schools, I mean government-run Telugu medium schools around these brick kilns. We surveyed the number of schools in these areas, their current conditions, whether these children could be enrolled in the Telugu-medium school, and if they could learn in Odia,” adds Daniel.
Joining the Rachakonda Police Commissionerate and the non-profit was the Brick Kiln Owners Association. After getting booked in cases where they couldn’t even get bail, many brick owners approached the Police Commissioner. “The owners approached us, saying they were ready to take care of the children’s education,” says Commissioner Bhagwat.
The Commissioner then asked the brick kiln owners to come forward and offer assistance in this regard, making up for employing children in their facilities.
In collaboration with the non-profit, the owners were sensitised about offering healthy spaces for children in and around the brick kilns. They were also asked to cooperate with the authorities in sending these children to school, paying for their transport and even repairing nearby schools.
These owners acquiesced to all these demands.
Meanwhile, we conducted surveys, identified children, mobilised volunteers, trained them, supervised, arranged for textbooks from Odisha, and classroom material. We essentially offer technical support and have an office in Hyderabad overseeing it, says Daniel.
Alongside other stakeholders, Aide et Action also helped children acquire uniforms and school bags.
However, the Rachakonda Police Commissionerate was the leading player in this regard because they brought in other stakeholders—brick kiln owners, district administration, education and labour departments.
Commissioner Bhagwat was the key conduit for the critical administrative support this initiative needed.
Leading the way: Rachakonda Police Commissioner Mahesh Bhagwat. (Source: PRO Rachakonda)
What happens after the school season?
These worksite schools enrol children in Class I to Class 5, which make up 90 per cent of the student intake. Children from Class 6 and 7 also attend these schools. After spending the October-May season studying in these schools, these children will be eligible for a grade-level transition into Odia-medium schools in the following year back in their native villages.
“For this process, we obtain a certificate with a photograph from the education department of Telangana. For each child, we have a database with their photograph and the school where they studied. The parents receive a letter officially confirming their child has undergone education in this school, appeared for examinations and is eligible to attend so and so class,” says Daniel.
Accompanying parents and their children back home are the teacher volunteers, who spend a further one and a half months to re-integrate them into the education system in Odisha. These volunteers, who are also natives of the same villages, also conduct regular inspections across the homes of different migrant workers to see if their children have been re-admitted and are going to their new Odia-medium schools.
“We provide a database of these children to the entity in the Odisha government overseeing the implementation of the Samagra Siksha Abhiyan (an overarching Central programme for the school education subsuming three schemes—Sarva Shiksha Abhiyan, Rashtriya Madhyamik Shiksha Abhiyan and Teacher Education). The state administration sends these details to the district and village administration. The parents also furnish these letters at their native schools, and thus the loop is closed from either side,” says Daniel.
Commissioner Mahesh Bhagwat presenting certificates for students who will re-join school in Odisha.
Why is this initiative important?
It’s about the portability of education for migrant children. Wherever their parents move for work, children should have access to schools, Integrated Child Development Services (ICDS) and other basic entitlements like vaccinations available to them. At the worksite schools programme in Telangana, for example, children are also given daily mid-day meals.
Migrant families have the right to mobility but don’t have the right to access to government-sponsored entitlements like education. People migrate, but their families are excluded from accessing basic state-mandated amenities. On migrant families, authorities often have a discriminatory approach. These families often slip through the cracks. To get a sense of how many families remain neglected, the total number of internal migrants in the country stands at a staggering 139 million, according to the 2011 Census.
“We, at Aide et Action, are looking to fill these gaps. In Telangana, for example, we are working with labourers at construction sites, helping them set up a worksite creche, a day care centre for their children, and link their families with ICDS. We are similarly doing work in Tamil Nadu, Bihar, Delhi, Madhya Pradesh and Odisha as well,” informs Daniel.
This initiative is vital because without it, migrant workers and their children miss out on education. It has given us a lot of satisfaction, says Commissioner Bhagwat.
Since January 2017, 2,194 children have passed out from these worksite schools with 774 students alone in this migration cycle of October-November 2018 to May 2019.
A teacher volunteer taking a class for children of brick kiln workers. (Source: Aide et Action)
Take a step further
Despite the apparent success of this initiative, there are some critical challenges, particularly for children who want to continue their education. The Odisha government does run seasonal hostels for children of migrant workers. Here, the parents can lodge them when migrating outside the state to work, and the hostel looks after their well being.
But Daniel believes there are some critical logistical and management issues that remain unaddressed.
“Unfortunately, these seasonal hostels start quite late. While people migrate in October for work, these seasonal hostels only begin in November and December. Thus, many children are unable to stay in these hostels. In Telangana, we are trying to ensure that at least they have some provision for living in a decent environment. Another challenge is the unpredictable migration cycle. We have to consider that sometimes parents don’t migrate to the same places or aren’t sent to the same worksite. For example, those working in Telangana this year, may find themselves in Karnataka next year,” says Daniel.
However, beyond educating them, students at these worksite schools are being given an experience beyond the classroom.
Last month, Commissioner Bhagwat took 50 students from these schools to watch an IPL match between the Sunrisers Hyderabad and Delhi Capitals. A week later, another batch of students was taken to the Infosys campus at Pocharam, where they saw how IT engineers work and what is required to enter such professions.
These experiences establish a sense of aspiration among children.
Aspiring for a better life. (Source: Aide Et Action)
“When they went to the Infosys office, one of their employees noticed that these children did not have adequate footwear. Through a crowdfunding initiative, he bought footwear for 186 children, and inspired by the idea, we raised money to buy footwear for the rest of the 550-odd children at these schools,” says Commissioner Bhagwat, who bagged the prestigious International Association of Chief of Police Civil and Human Rights Award 2018.
Recognition for Commissioner Mahesh Bhagwat for his exemplary work.
There is hope
The worksite schools initiative has not only brought disparate groups together to serve one of the most impoverished and most disenfranchised communities in India (migrant labourer) but also brought hope to a generation of children who were lost to the vicious cycle of child labour and poverty. This initiative may not solve all their problems, but it gives them hope.
(Edited by Saiqua Sultan)
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A make-shift tin-sheet structure with an open roof, an open field nearing harvest, a pavement by a bustling suburban street or sometimes even an isolated corner under the shade of a century-old banyan tree. These might seem like random locations in cities and villages for you and I, but for over 3,000 underprivileged street kids, these spaces come alive as schools working for their better future.
A whiteboard, markers, and a duster for the teachers and a carpet laid on the ground for them to sit on, 15 such study centres across Uttar Pradesh, Bihar and recently, Rajasthan, are providing free-of-cost education for slum and street kids since 2013.
Thanks to the vision of a railway section engineer, Sushil Kumar Meena, also the Founder and President of the Nirbhed Foundation.
Sushil Kumar Meena serving meals to kids
The Better India (TBI) got in touch with Sushil to map the beginning of this journey.
Sushil was born into a lower-middle-class family in Rajasthan that later shifted base to Ghaziabad. After completing his secondary education in the city, he moved on to pursuing engineering at Harcourt Butler Technological Institute (HBTI), Kanpur.
Growing up, Sushil had observed his own father stress on the importance of getting a good education and never shying away from helping underprivileged students around them in academics.
Besides, his grandmother was known for running food drives for the poor. It was as if the spirit of wanting to serve the less privileged ran through the family, and which Sushil too had inherited.
As a National Social Service (NSS) student from HBTI, Sushil recalls visiting a rural village for a camp. Interacting with the villagers, he was deeply moved by the issues that marred the quality of their life like inaccessibility to sanitation or even a proper school for their kids. As a student, he lacked the resources to help them.
Little did he know, as an adult, he would impact thousands of lives.
When Sushil was posted with the Railways as a section engineer in 2012, he carried forward his father’s legacy. He set up Nirmaan Coaching Sansthan that helped economically weak aspirants crack government services exams with facilities like free books, stationery, learning material free of cost.
It was also at the time that his travels into the slums of Ghaziabad where many of these students resided, opened his eyes to the harsh conditions that several children lived in.
Giving education a chance
To put it simply, the atmosphere was least conducive to growth. Children as young as seven years old worked as rag pickers or begged on the streets to supplement their family income. Whether it was leftover food from any birthday party or even food left for the dead during shradhs, they would pick it up right away and eat it. Forget picking up books to read or write; they had never stepped inside the gates of a school. It was absolutely heartbreaking.
Sushil was aware that if he asked the parents of these kids to send them to study, they would refuse outright.
“These children are their assets. Asking them to quit their jobs to study would hurt their families financially. So we had to think of an innovative approach to convince the parents.”
The team, which included Sushil and a few like-minded friends who joined the cause, would visit the slums for surveys. They held clothes distribution drives, where they used the opportunity to sit down and have a talk with the families of the kids.
“We told them, ‘Your kid earns you an income by selling small products or handicrafts. But when he/she takes the money, often, due to lack of basic education, they cannot even calculate how much money they have to return in the middle of a transaction. Don’t you think, sending them for a few hours to learn these skills would help?'”
It wasn’t as simple as it seemed. While some parents agreed, the majority of them refused their help calling them, ‘nautankis’ who would con them like other NGOs in the past had, who did surveys but never helped them.
This changed when Sushil abruptly stopped the survey and promised the slum dwellers that they would only see teachers the next day.
Making learning fun
Alongside a few of his friends, he adopted another strategy to help students spend more time studying. They helped the children earn what they would in a month in the matter of a few days, by helping them make and sell handicrafts. When the parents received the income, they readily agreed to let the students spend long hours at the study centre.
Yes, there were plenty of challenges that we had to overcome, but we kept our calm. Many of the parents who vehemently opposed our work at the start are the same ones who have walked up to us with tears in their eyes, touching our feet and telling us how education is transforming their lives. When the parents saw their children read books, they allowed themselves to dream that their children just might have a future different than theirs.
The school couldn’t run at the time they wanted since many of the children worked during the day. So the classes start in batches from 5:30 am and last till nine at night. At the start, many of the volunteers who taught the kids included students who were preparing exams for government jobs that Sushil coached. Since most of these exams have content from the syllabus of class six to nine, it was an excellent method for them to not only teach the slum kids but revise too!
When Sushil’s team first started teaching in Indrapuram, the number of kids kept rising day by day, until it was close to 300 kids. At the time, he realised the need for them to be formally registered in schools. When he reached out to some of the top NGOs in the country working in the educational sector, he was shocked by their response.
“One of the NGOs told me, they weren’t running a project under which they could help the kids. They neither entertained nor directed me in any way. When I visited the nearest Government school, it was in a dilapidated state facing a severe staff shortage. They refused to let older kids sit in lower classes, citing their age. That was when we decided to register ourselves and scale up the impact formally.”
Thus in 2015, Nirbhed foundation was registered as a non-profit. It became a place where no child is ever refused help. The students that they equipped in one centre would go to other slums and teach others like them. Thus, the chain of change multiplied.
“Many of these kids, when they are called ‘sir’ and ‘ma’am’ by other kids, have their beliefs strengthened in the transformative power of education. We have given them a different coloured t-shirt with the Foundation’s name to set them apart. Ours might not be a formal school, but to help children experience the feeling of going to school, we made uniforms and ID cards for them too. Such has been the impact that several children have left other NGOs with proper buildings, air-conditioned computer rooms, benches and chairs to sit in open-shed structures and study with us.
In one of their locations, the students themselves cut down six-foot high bushes to build their make-shift school.
This gives me hope that even after I am long gone, these kids will keep the change going.
Today, after six years of successfully running the project, the team which registered itself as a non-profit Nirbhed Foundation in 2015, has over 50 volunteers. Most of them are either students or working professionals who feel for the cause.
The syllabus that the team follows is from the NCERT books. To retain kids, they even started a one-time meal at some of their centres, a model they aim to replicate shortly with all the centres.
Education is one of the projects that the Foundation works on. Apart from this, they also impart vocational skills like tailoring, handicraft making, etc. to help these kids and their families earn a livelihood.
“Many of them are not entertained in public offices due to lack of documentation, so we help them out with that too. Our 4 BHK office in Ghaziabad functions as a hostel for the kids, a storeroom for clothes donation drives and even an in-house medical centre, where we make affordable healthcare accessible to their families.”
At the moment, Nirbhed feeds 460 people every day. The Foundation has now tied up for food and clothing donation with food courts of malls like Shipra Mall in Ghaziabad, Logix City Center in Noida, Zomato, several high rise societies, Reliance Mart etc.
Several good samaritans who wish to celebrate their birthdays and anniversaries, do it by sponsoring meals that the team prepares for the kids too!
Their tie-ups have helped boost their clothes donation drive where a lot of branded reject clothes make their way to several slums.
Balancing studies with fun
“From newborns to senior citizens, we have clothes for all. For the longest time, we did not take any form of financial donation. We request our donors to donate in kind. But as time passes and we work towards registering the kids in formal schools, we need assistance.
In a final message for the youth, he says, “Despite being a young country, our youth lacks ‘motto’ in their lives. They are bright and capable of bringing change; all they need is the will and the direction to use their skills and talents to impact others, especially the less privileged. We often say the system is resistant to change. But who is the system? It is you and I! Instead of chasing a cushy life abroad with a hefty paycheck, what if our youngsters – the doctors, engineers, scientists, teachers of tomorrow, decide to stay in India and work? If we join hands, the day that the rupee surpasses the dollar won’t be far.”
To support Sushil and the Nirbhed Foundation, get in touch with him on 9599044245 or write to him at nirbhedfoundation@gmail.com.
You can also sponsor the registration of a kid in a school, with Rs 2,000, using the bank details below:
In 2016, when IAS officer Danish Ashraf took charge as the District Magistrate of Upper Subansiri in Arunachal Pradesh, his wife, Ruhi, was setting foot in the district for the first time. They were at Chandigarh previously.
Created in 1980, this mountainous terrain derives its name from the river Subansiri. It has snow-capped mountains ranging 7000-18000 ft (above sea level) on one side and is mostly covered with dense forests rich in flora and fauna.
Spread across 7,032 sq km, it has a population of 83,448 across 551 villages and a literacy rate of 63.96 per cent.
It would be safe to say that this district, inhabited by three major tribes—the Tagin, the Nyishi, and the Galp—is considered to be one of the remotest and most backward districts of Arunachal Pradesh.
With bad road connectivity, even worse internet connection and no railway lines, the nearest airport is almost 10 hours away. In the monsoons, the same route takes 14 hours.
Speaking to The Better India, Ruhi recalls being told that despite several officers being posted to the district, none of their wives have ever stayed in the DM bungalow, due to its remoteness.
But Ruhi, an electronics engineer who quit her job to stay with her husband, decided she would find a way to help the town.
Ruhi with her husband, IAS Danish Ashraf
The husband-wife duo travels through the town, shedding light on the dilapidated condition of the government school. It was a matter of time when a group of class 12 students from the Government Higher Secondary School in Daporijo (the district headquarters) walked into Danish’s office, in need of a physics teacher.
For five years, they had no teacher for the subject.
“It was almost the middle of the academic year and time was running out. Finding a teacher right away would be an uphill task. Even the teachers who were posted couldn’t teach due to the remoteness of the area. My husband was the district magistrate, so it was his responsibility to find a solution quickly. So when he turned to me for help, I stepped in. It was as if I had finally found a way to contribute to the town and its people.”
Thanks to Ruhi’s voluntary service and passion for teaching, 74 of the 92 students passed! This was a leap of 80 per cent from the past year when only 17 students (21 per cent) had cleared the subject!
When Ruhi started teaching, she realised that the students were talented and only required guidance. A week into the class, she observed that their understanding of basic concepts was unclear since they had been studying without a teacher for five years.
She accepted the challenge and started teaching them concepts from classes 8-12. Since time was short, she even made notes in simple language and used a projector to display interactive animated videos.
Students at the school
Due to the poor internet connectivity, she would download a collection of videos in her hometown in Delhi and play them in class. She also used superhero clips to explain concepts like gravity and momentum.
One of the students, Saurav, who came second in class, says, “Her teaching was different from everyone else. She would explain every concept clearly by breaking it down, no matter how much time it took. She ensured that even the weakest student in the class understood what was being taught. She would ask us to solve equations on the board, and when we answered them correctly, she would motivate us with chocolates. She also made handmade notes and question banks. I only referred to her notes and scored 77! After a class test, she even distributed gifts to the top ten scorers. She truly has been a catalyst who motivated us at each step and helped us improve.”
In addition, Ruhi also made a WhatsApp group for students to clear their doubts. Even if a question were posted at 2 am, she answered it for them. Her efforts bore fruit when the results were declared.
After a lecture on the functioning of an electroscope, one of the students even made an electroscope from aluminium foil and plastic bottles the following day.
“It was beautiful to see the children excel. The happiness on their faces gave me a sense of purpose, and I count it among the biggest achievements of my life,” she beams.
Ruhi, with her student, Saurav
When Ruhi was bestowed an honorarium of Rs 40,000, she refused to take it and donated it to the school’s welfare. She is hopeful that it will help improve the infrastructure and get better benches for the students.
In a final message to homemakers, the teacher says, “I had read a report which said that Indian homemakers are the most overqualified demographic groups in the world. I am an electronic engineer, but quitting my job to stay with my husband was my choice. However, when you stay at home, you are unaware of the surroundings; life can become stagnant and cause you to lose confidence. After taking up teaching, I enjoyed a higher sense of self-respect. It helped boost my confidence and personality, and put my education to better use. Even if every homemaker takes a few hours of her day to give back to society, imagine how better India will become!”
The water began gushing into the house. Panic-stricken, she struggled to rush out. She had many struggles to overcome, but at that point, her only concern was to save her own life.
Dodging dangers she finally reached the shelter home, panting. Due to the deluge of water outside, the home was swamped with victims, but she was at least safe.
A day went by, and she began to bleed. Her period had started, and that gave her yet another reason to panic.
She had no pad; not even a piece of cloth. She tried asking for help, but she was surrounded by mostly male rescuers and disaster management workers. Hesitation overwhelmed pain and unease.
So, she continued to bleed until her aunt arrived and helped her out.
This is the story of a 15-year-old girl from a village in Assam, that was hit by the floods, a few years ago.
Sadly, this is not a situation in isolation. Several girls and women caught in the floods have been subjected to such situations.
When this tale was narrated to Mayuri Bhattacharjee, a social activist, during a workshop in Assam, she decided to dedicate her life to the cause.
“Sometimes, being aware is not enough. Something needs to push you, and her story opened my eyes to the sheer lack of menstrual hygiene during natural disasters. After being told about this situation, I began to ask all the other women at the workshop if they had faced something similar. And, as anticipated, most of them agreed. One woman even added that she had to rush from the shelter home to her rundown house, just to get a piece of cloth, as there was no menstrual kit available,” says 32-year-old Bhattacharjee, in conversation with The Better India.
A menstrual educator and trainer, she was working with Sikun Relief Foundation, an NGO conducting menstrual hygiene workshops in flood-prone areas, at the time.
The horrors shared by women at the workshop pushed her to take a strong stand and demand for period-friendly shelter homes.
“In situations of natural disasters, the priority is always to get the people to safety. The next is to help them with food, clothing and medicines. But, sustenance, especially for women, is just not attached to that. Amid the chaos, these women are not just denied the basic necessity of pads but don’t even find a clean piece of clothing to help them during periods. Menstruation is still considered a secondary need that often falls off the priority list altogether,” adds Bhattacharjee.
Her experiences of such situations, led her eventually start a campaign called ‘Dignity in Flood’ at Change.org, earlier this year. Her continuous efforts have finally led to over 30,600 signatures on the petition to build 50 women-friendly flood shelters in Assam.
You can also join the cause by signing the petition here
According to her, period-friendly shelter homes are required to not just include separate toilets for women but also be equipped with pads, clean clothes and soaps.
“While the Assam Disaster Management manual does mention gender-segregated toilets as a requisite of a shelter home, on-ground implementation is very different. More so, these toilets do not have any period kit available. Although the manual does mentions the need for sanitary pads, because of the taboos officials on ground still don’t acknowledge the importance of this facility,” she observes.
She points out that in some cases, when lack of toilet facilities push women to defecate in the open, it attracts diseases and infection, while exposing them to the dangers of sexual predators.
“During natural disasters, women are not just exposed and vulnerable to the dangers driven by the disaster, but to other forces as well. The shelter homes devoid of proper security often turn into a bed of abuse by sexual predators. Instead, if a social welfare officer regularly inspects the place, matters can be improved,” explains Bhattacharjee.
One week after the petition was uploaded on Change.org, the Assam Disaster Management board reached out publicly acknowledging its importance and assuring help.
“I hope the work towards the change begins soon. Yes, you need roti, kapda and makaan. But, what will a girl do if she is continuously bleeding under her skirt? It’s a social issue that needs an immediate solution from state governments,” Bhattacharjee reminds us.
She believes the first step to change begins with acknowledgement, sensitization and awareness.
“Most rural areas do not have access to proper menstrual hygiene products or basic information around periods. However, the urban areas are no better, because here, people although comparatively free from taboos, are instead reeling in misinformation and myths,” she adds, stressing on the need to pledge that this year’s World Menstrual Hygiene Day (May 28) will be one of substantial change.
Let this be a year to shatter social taboos, bust myths and make India healthier and safer for women. Period.
As a child, my mornings were always a disaster. Chaos ensued as my mother would try to feed me rice balls before the school bus arrived, while I would slip out in the verandah to observe the nicer and quieter things in life.
Leaning off the ledge, I would often be mesmerised in the perfectly symmetrical white patterns drawn on the red oxide floor of my neighbour’s porch.
Sometimes I would catch a glimpse of Amma Dida (a culturally intermixed nickname for grandmother), and how her frail figure, wrapped loosely with a white saree, bent over in a balanced position, moved with her wrinkled hands to create complicated intersecting lines of beauty. In a meditative trance, she would take a pinch of white powder from a bowl and create a new design, every single morning.
At our home as well, my mother drew similar (less geometrical and more floral) patterns with a paste of rice flour and chalk. Sometimes, I would try and replicate Amma Dida’s designs, which she informed me, was known as Kolam.
Although, at home, we would call refer to it by its Bengali version, Alpana.
What made the Kolam stand apart from Alpana or Rangoli designs was the sheer complexity and the dexterity of the artist to draw geometrical patterns that somehow intersected in perfection.
Many years later, by accident, I stumbled upon the well-researched concept that the labyrinthine loops, curved lines and hexagonal fractions with flower motifs hidden inside. I learned that it was not just an illustrative prayer to a Hindu deity, but much more.
According to Vijaya Nagarajan, a professor at the Department of Theology and Religious Studies, University of San Francisco, it is a metaphor for harmony.
The powder, made of rice flour, is safe for ants, birds, bugs and insects to eat. So that every morning, the household can start its day with a ritual representing generosity.
The art form is said to have originated in the Indus Valley Civilisation around 2500 BC, although there lies some dispute about the same. The term ‘kolam’ represents beauty, embodying the absolute symmetry of lines around a grid of dots and natural motifs like leaves and flowers.
The process usually begins with a grid of dots, which enables the spatial precision to achieve symmetry. In Hindu philosophy, a dot or point is a symbol of the cosmos—where all creation begins.
Interestingly, owing to its complexity, mathematicians and computer scientists like Marcia Ascher, a professor emerita of Mathematics at Ithaca College, have been studying it as an unusual example of the expression of mathematical ideas in a cultural setting.
In her ethnomathematical research (a field of study combining anthropology and mathematics), Vijaya adds, “The kōlam is one of the few embedded indigenous traditions that have contributed to the western mathematical tradition.”
From pictorial visual language called ‘array grammars’ in computer science, to knot tradition in mathematical theory and even infinity, there are more than 20 kinds of different mathematical principles embedded in kolams, she adds.
Elucidating fundamental mathematical principles, Vijaya writes how the symmetry of Kolam art involves recurring fractals in the designs, that have been repeatedly compared with mathematical models like the Sierpinski triangle, a fractal of recursive equilateral triangles.
What remains a wondrous mystery is how women like Amma Dida, without formal education and no knowledge of mathematics beyond simple counting, have been able to create and recreate such complex patterns for hundreds of years!
Cradled amidst the scenic mountains of Uttarakhand, a young girl grew up harbouring dreams larger than the life she lived in her quaint village. All she was waiting for was the right opportunity at the right time.
A resident of a small village, Pipaliya in Shripur, Tanuja Mundela is a daughter of a daily wage-labourer. Living in a family of six members, with only a single earning one, was difficult. “Everyday after finishing my household chores, I went to school. And after returning, I would sit down to study on my own,” she recalls.
Today, the 22-year-old stands tall as an example for all the other girls of the village, that dreams really do come true. An image of confidence, Tanuja works at the front desk of a prominent hotel and hopes to become a general manager there.
Her journey from a simple girl to a confident professional is inspiring and was made possible by a special skills programme, called the Swatantra programme. “I wanted to achieve something in my life, and my family always stood by me, no matter what. So, after completing my twelfth grade, a friend told me about the Swatantra. I found that students like me were getting career training there and so I enrolled in the Hotel Management training, and there was no turning back,” says Tanuja with a tinge of pride.
Run by a local NGO, Dev Rishi Educational Society (DRES) under the collaborative measure with Swades Foundation, supported by the HSBC Skill For Life programme, this opportunity has changed hundreds of lives in the past four years.
Launched in 2015, HSBC Skills for Life is a 5-year, Rs 1 billion programme aimed at providing an opportunity for independence, to almost 75,000 youth and women. The programme is changing lives by training them in the requisite skill sets for various sectors.
Source: ILO in Asia and the Pacific/Flickr
It primarily focuses on employment through skill-training for disadvantaged youth, upskilling of educators, livelihood enhancement and entrepreneurial aid for women.
With the help of the Swades Foundation, a total of 12,811 individuals have been trained through 64 non-profit partnerships across 18 states. Based out of Maharashtra, the Swades Foundation operates with the single-minded focus of empowering rural parts of India through best practices, modern technology and values. Together, HSBC and Swades Foundation have established a five-year, Rs 50 crore partnership which will directly enable 30,000 youth from disadvantaged backgrounds from all over the country, with the required skills.
Owing to this partnership, more than 8,041 people like Tanuja have already been able to fulfill their dreams by getting employment based on their skills.
1,800 more are in training.
Looking back, she realises that dreams, big or small, always wait for hard work and opportunity. She was fortunate to receive that push and hopes to see many more follow suit.
“My Shripur is also evolving. Girls have started to think about their careers. After all, a little goes a long way” she observes.
At a book launch earlier this month, Javed Akhtar, the poet and film lyricist said, “No one of us has only one identity. We are a collage of different identities.”
In these times of heightened religious sensibilities, while this is a brave thing to say, to act upon these convictions is an entirely different matter.
But this is precisely what Kolkata’s Bethune College has done.
In its undergraduate admissions process, under the section titled ‘religion,’ the oldest women’s college in Asia has offered applicants the option to choose ‘Humanity’ besides Hinduism, Islam, Christian, Sikhism, Buddhism, Jainism and others.
“We have realised that some students are reluctant to mention their religion in the admission form. We appreciate their views as we feel that ‘Humanity’ is the true religion of mankind. So we have deliberately kept this category in the religion section. It was a unanimous decision on the part of our admission committee,” said Mamata Ray, principal of Bethune College, in a conversation with The Millennium Post.
Not only does this give students a way out of declaring their religious affiliations, which are just one facet of a person’s identity, but it also allows them to affirm a broader identity—their humanity.
More importantly, according to college authorities, if students do indeed choose ‘Humanity’ as an option, it will not come in the way of availing scholarships provided, if she meets the other requisite guidelines.
It isn’t the first time that this women’s college in Kolkata is blazing a trail.
Screenshot of the admission form.
The story of its very origins is closely tied to the Bengal Renaissance and the arrival of a certain John Elliot Drinkwater Bethune, who was sent to India in 1848 Law Member of the Governor General’s Council.
Besides his official duties, we worked closely with like-minded Bengali social reformers like Ramgopal Ghosh, Raja Dakshinaranjan Mukherjee and Pandit Madan Mohan Tarkalankar; he initiated the cause of women’s education.
Devoted to getting Indian women out of the throes of illiteracy and social oppression, Bethune was instrumental in setting up Kolkata’s first school for girls in 1849 called the Hindu Female School, which subsequently came to be known as Bethune School.
Unfortunately, the man passed away just two years later.
In 1856, the colonial administration took over the reins at the school and later renamed in Bethune School. The legendary social reformer Pandit Ishwar Chandra Vidyasagar was appointed Secretary in the school’s management committee.
Students at the Bethune College campus. (Source: Bethune College)
“It was in 1878 that Bethune School had the honour of sending up the first woman candidate for the Entrance Examination of the University of Calcutta. When Kadambini Ganguly (née Basu) cleared the examination, college classes were arranged for her in Bethune school to enable her to pursue her studies for the FA examination. This is how the college started. And for many years to follow, this college remained the only institution offering the scope of higher education for girls in India,” says this description on the college website.
Joining Kadambini Ganguly in 1881 was Chandramukhi Basu, and together, both women ended up becoming the first women graduates of the Calcutta University in 1883.
Kadambini would go on to take admission in the Calcutta Medical College and becoming India’s first practising female physician, while her contemporary Chandramukhi took up a lecturer’s position in Bethune College, and subsequently became its first woman principal. Also Read: The Phenomenal Story of Kadambini: One of India’s First Women Graduates & Doctors
Since its inception, the college has produced a host of luminaries. They include Pritilata Wadder, the first female martyr of India’s freedom struggle; Asima Chatterjee, an organic chemist and first woman scientist to be awarded a Doctor of Science from an Indian University; Ila Sen, the first Bengali woman to be selected for participation in Olympic Games, amongst others.
Even 140 years later, the college remains in reasonable shape, and the National Assessment and Accreditation Council (NAAC) granted it a Grade A in 2015.
(Edited by Gayatri Mishra)
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Sakshi recalls the day she was rushed to the hospital. Born and brought up in Delhi, she was 19 at the time and a first-year student at Delhi University.
Why? Because she was losing vision. Rapidly. Starting from the periphery, it was tunnelling in.
When her private ophthalmologist couldn’t figure out what was wrong with her, she was referred to AIIMS.
Five days passed. A million tests were conducted on the teen right from MRIs, X-Rays to CT-scans, but there was no diagnosis, no specific term for the condition.
Sakshi Srivastava
“Despite how serious everyone around me was, I was still a bubbly naive teenager, optimistic to a fault. It had been my first hospital experience, and as weird as it may seem now, I was quite enjoying the attention. I was tripping and falling because I couldn’t see anything clearly, but I was sure the top doctors could fix it, and I would go on with my life,” she recalls in an interview with The Better India.
By the 10th day, she had almost lost 70 per cent of her vision, and when the doctor walked into the cabin and spoke to her father, the reality of the situation finally hit her.
“These are the medications that she will have to follow with routine monthly checkups. You can take her home,” he had said, handing over the discharge papers.
“I was perplexed. How could he tell me to go home when my condition wasn’t fixed? This was a phase, and I was supposed to go home with my vision intact. I had exams to appear for. I was agitated and turned to him asking, ‘Will the medicines cure me?’ He was in a spot but answered honestly, ‘We have done everything we could, but the condition is an autoimmune disorder and is irreversible. We now have to ensure that it doesn’t get worse going forward.’”
Her world had crumbled. She was only 19. How could it have happened to her?
“I cried my eyes out for three hours. It seemed like my life had ended. I rewound every small incident in my head, just trying to find an explanation to why it happened to me. When I walked out, I knew my parents had cried too, from their puffy eyes. They felt so helpless, finding me in pain, but there was nothing they could have done. I had to put on a brave face if not for me, at least for them.”
The brave front she put forward that day, carried her through and today, Sakshi is a social entrepreneur and co-founder of Bucket List, a city-based NGO that has impacted the lives of more than 2000 kids in the last three years.
Working for disadvantaged kids
From fulfilling wishes on their bucket list to empowering them through education, sports and arts, the NGO that the now 27-year-old runs with Rida Ali, a social worker and her best friend of 13 years, is changing the lives of underprivileged kids in Delhi and Fatehpur.
“The biggest blow after my diagnosis was having to quit education. I was pursuing my BSc (Hons) in computers and was adept at coding. Even when I was in the hospital, I insisted that I give my exam. Even though I could hardly read the question paper or be sure that I was writing the answers correctly, I cleared it and with good marks. It all went to vain when it continued to get worse, and I could no longer read and study from my books. So, I had to drop out,” she recalls.
But she knew that she couldn’t stay at home.
“When I returned from the hospital, I could identify how my perception and the way people treated me differed. It was a major culture shock having to do the things I took for granted differently. I had to devise my own cheat codes and use muscle memory to do the simplest tasks. I had to find a purpose to wake up to every morning because I refused to be a burden to anyone.”
Sakshi started researching courses which did not require her to rely on text and completed her BA in Event management. Post that, she interned with organisations like Greenpeace and WWF and worked several jobs as a content writer and later in the social sector.
By then, with the help of her brother and sister-in-law, she had begun to use assistive technology, including screen readers, that could help her.
Then how did the idea of Bucket List come about?
Fulfilling one wish, one bucket at a time
It was three years ago that her interaction with the kids from a slum in Jasola triggered the idea of Bucket List.
Rida, Sakshi and some of their friends often met at a chai tapri outside a corporate building that one of their friends worked at every evening.
Rida, who was a social worker by training, was then working with another city-based organisation. Their interaction revealed the conditions the kids lived in and the issues that plagued their lives. It was only a matter of time until the duo decided to quit their full-time jobs to work with them.
“These kids come from complicated backgrounds and live in dingy shanties under flyovers. Many of them work, beg or work as ragpickers for a living. From a tender age, they are exposed to violence within and outside their homes, substance abuse and lack of education. It is the least conducive atmosphere for growth which pushes them to all wrong directions possible. In one of my interactions with the parents of one of our kids, she said, ‘What will she do getting educated? She was born under this bridge, and she will die under this. Your world isn’t for us; education isn’t for us.’”
And so, Bucket List uses six verticals to impact the lives of disadvantaged children and adolescents of Jasola, Madanpur Khadar, Sarita Vihar, and Okhla and Nizamuddin Basti in Delhi and Fatehpur in Uttar Pradesh.
1. Bucket List: Each of us has a bucket list, don’t we? While many of ours may include travelling the world or adventure sports, the bucket list of these kids is starkly different.
‘I want to see a lion,’ ‘I want to ride a bicycle for a day,’ ‘I want to celebrate my birthday for the first time,’, ‘I want to see what lies at the end of this flyover,’ these are only a few of the simplest inexpensive wishes that these kids have.
So the NGO reaches out to real-life genies who would be willing to contribute and make simple bucket list wishes come true.
“It broke my heart to see that none of them ever said they wanted to wear a uniform or go to school. Because they were convinced that education wasn’t for them. We needed to change that.”
2. Rights: This vertical was to make the kids and their parents aware of the policies for vulnerable children. Sakshi has been leading the Right to Education drive and working on school admissions.
While the policies are brilliant, the implementation is far from satisfactory, says Sakshi.
“When we try to admit a child in a school, the authorities admit them as per their age and not their academic level. How can a kid who is 11, but doesn’t understand basic alphabet or math be expected to sit in Class 6 and study difficult concepts? So they drop out. Besides the new rules that say a kid needs to be promoted compulsorily till Class 8 only adds to the woes. Because they know, they will be pushed to Class 8, but cannot handle the pressure of Class 9.”
3. Education: To tackle the issue of dropouts, the NGO conducts remedial classes to help students keep up with their academic curriculum in school. Besides that, it also runs a three-year curriculum where kids are taught basic English, Hindi, and Math. Today most of their kids are studying in schools.
4. Sports: The NGO also uses sports as a medium to build confidence and teach life skills to the kids. Apart from rugby, they have also started basketball coaching for students.
“Apart from improving their health, teaching them discipline and punctuality, it also allows them to interact with kids from other social backgrounds. It makes them want to step out of their comfort zone and interact with others with confidence.”
5. Arts- It also uses visual and performing arts to engage kids. Guitar, clay modelling, pottery, and theatre are a few examples. Every year, the NGO puts up a theatre production, ‘Tell a Tale,’ by the kids.
6. Health- To ensure physical and mental health, they provide meals and hold regular health camps for the kids, with special attention to vulnerable cases.
While the growth of the organisation was exceptional in the first 1.5 years, it did slow down. It was also around the same time that Sakshi went through the second episode of vision loss.
Her love for kids
In less than four days, she was left with eight per cent of her vision. Practically blind in the right eye, her left eye now has what is called a pipe hole vision.
“A big part of what pushed me to recover was the NGO. I learned to use the keyboard again, to travel independently again due to my work. Today, I type faster than most friends and even read faster than them. My team has been super supportive throughout, and the kids have become an integral part of my life.”
The NGO continues to run with the help of its large base of volunteers. Dubai-based media group Omnicom extends support in terms of resources and smaller grants. But they also rely on the help of good samaritans who believe in the cause. The NGO is currently in the process of acquiring its 80G certificate and needs help.
You can also donate to Bucket List at:
A/c holder name: BUCKET LIST
A/c no: 917020043537371
Bank Name: Axis Bank
Branch name JASOLA
IFSC code: UTIB0001148
Enduring the sweltering heat, the class of 30-odd students is reciting their math tables diligently. For the students dressed in hand-me-downs, the rising temperatures are of no concern. The learners giggle at the boy who makes an error in the flawless recitation and then move on to writing down the tables on a slate. Neetu Singh’s students are nothing if not dedicated to their make-shift school.
Neetu has endured over two years of threats from goons, uncooperative police and extreme depression to be able to afford an education for the kids in her neighbourhood. For Neetu understands the worth of the written letter.
Growing up in Delhi slum and for a brief time, begging for money in a nearby temple over, two decades ago, Neetu was in the same shoes as the children she teaches.
Some people were generous enough to hand Neetu a few coins. But then there were those who, on the pretext of lending help to the little girl, touched and molested her.
On some days, the meagre income that Neetu brought home would fill her heart with pride, but sullying this happiness were the lecherous advances of strange men she had endured.
Even as a child, Neetu knew that education would be her only way out of this endless tunnel of darkness. It was by no means a short term goal, but nothing could falter her determination.
“Growing up in Delhi slums, I know how exhausting it is to manage studies with the pressure of contributing to the family income. I wasn’t the brightest of students in my class but that wasn’t an obstacle to my dreams. My schooling was done in government schools whereas I finished my Bachelor’s in Education from Haryana. I didn’t have unconditional support from my parents initially but thanks to the wonderful teachers I had in school, I could complete my education,” Neetu tells The Better India (TBI).
Since she had free access to government schools, her parents, although reluctantly, had sent her school. From primary school to high school and then college, Neetu made her slow but steady way to get a worthy degree in hand.
Neetu’s first job after completing her B.Ed was as a guest lecturer in a high school in Delhi for visually-challenged boys. With utmost dedication, Neetu devoted months teaching her students.
From the time that the young Neetu had decided to educate herself to free her family out of the shackles of slums, she had envisioned a career in education. Teaching high school students was like her dream come true—one that would be short-lived.
When the high school recruited other teachers, Neetu was let go.
Shattered by this loss, she slipped into depression. In her late twenties, she was left without a job and the long years of hard work seemed to have been for nothing.
Courtesy: Neetu Singh.
For a year, stress and depression engulfed her.
“One day in 2015, I saw one of my neighbouring kids begging for alms on the road. I knew this girl personally but never knew she was a child beggar. That sight of her with ruffled hair, torn clothes and a bowl in her hand hit me,” the 35-year-old tells TBI
“If it weren’t for my teachers, I too would have been begging on the streets. Without education, I would have been nothing more than a beggar. At that moment, I made up my mind. Instead of working at a well-paying job, I chose to pull these slum kids out of poverty through the power of books.”
It was only in August 2018 that the Delhi government proposed to include all children till class 12 in the free education scheme instead of till class 8. Although they have to pay a fee of Rs 20 per month from class 9 to 12, the issue they faced was not about the provision of free education. Rather, it is circumstances and the distance between the school and home that stops them in their tracks. When I say distance, I mean both literally and metaphorically.
A lack of awareness about the importance of education kept the parents from enrolling their children in schools. Add to that the fact that children are “profitable” when they are on the streets begging or selling cheap but seasonal items.
About 80 per cent of slum children are forced into labour by their parents and thus, from the dawn of the day to late at night, the young ones work without eating even one proper meal in a day.
Courtesy: Neetu Singh.
To change this, Neetu started a school under the shade of a tree right in her neighbourhood. “I started speaking to the parents in my neighbourhood, explaining to them that education is beneficial in the long run, and will help improve their situation once the kids grow up and make something of themselves. I managed to convince the parents of 12 students who started learning in my school – ‘Sab ki Pathshala’. Our first class was under the shade of a tree and soon enough, other students joined.”
As the class expanded, Neetu shifted base to a tarpaulin shade but her working as a teacher to slum kids did not go down well with the local goons. More students in classes meant fewer child labourers on the streets. This enraged certain gangs who started threatening her with rape and death. When Neetu approached the police to complain, she met with inaction.
“After all, I was just another slum dweller. The police believed that my classes are nothing more than show and they refused to help me. Who was I to teach a group of students? What credentials did I have? This passive approach from them and the gangs meant I had to deal with a lot of harassment. This, until finally, the Delhi Commission for Women stepped in to ensure protection to my classes. Gradually, the police too fell in place,” Neetu explains.
The first couple of years were rough for Neetu and her students but as she secured protection, Sab Ki Pathshala gained momentum. Over 80 students have benefitted from her courageous efforts so far of which 36 students are currently studying with her. Apart from the regular English, Math and Science classes, Neetu also teaches them dance, art and craft, and acting, among others.
Saddam, another voluntary teacher, has joined Neetu’s efforts who looks after the extra-curricular activities.
It is heartwarming to know that several teachers, like Neetu, are engaged in teaching underprivileged children to empower them. More students in classes can translate to less on the street engaged in child labour and vulnerable to drug or alcohol addiction. Every drop contributes to making an ocean and with teachers like Neetu, the efforts seem to be yielding positive results.
(Edited by Saiqua Sultan)
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This article has been sponsored by Jamnalal Bajaj Foundation
He was just 17 when he decided to dedicate his entire life for the betterment of others. A legendary Gandhian and one of the most notable social workers from Odisha, Biswanath Pattnaik, has changed thousands of lives, leading many through the iconic 1951 Bhoodan Movement (land gift movement) under the guidance of his mentor, Acharya Vinoba Bhave.
In the words of Raghunath Rath, an ardent follower, who has spent his life researching on tribal issues: “He was the last true Gandhian of Orissa. They do not make people like him. He never ran after awards unlike many social activists of today.”
Born among poor tribals in Odisha on November 11, 1916, in a village called Kumarada, in Ganjam district, Biswanath, like many around him, has faced the darkest struggles for survival. Yet unlike many, he wanted to make an effort to change it.
After losing his father, Upendra, at a very young age, he grew up with his grandfather, Ghanashyam, and studied in a village school. However, aspiring for better education, he moved to Srikakulam in Andhra Pradesh, but only sustained his studies till Class 8 and dropped out.
In search of meaning, he moved back to his village, this time as an informal teacher, at his old village school, on a monthly salary of seven rupees. It was then that he met a Gandhian, Gopabandhu Choudhury and began to work as his assistant. Under his guidance, Biswanath travelled to Koraput to help expand the khadi movement there. His extensive work became so popular in Koraput that it earned him a pseudonym, the Koraputia Gandhi.
In 1940, he arrived in Kujendri, and began focusing on the tribal communities of the area, especially those who are differently-abled. His productive work to empower the communities further spread to Baliguda as well.
From putting up a strong stand against various social evils like dowry system, superstitions, untouchability, and illiteracy among others, to helping children, women and senior citizens get education, livelihood and shelter, Biswanath has been a force in reforming Odisha’s social fabric.
It was this fearless sense-of-purpose to battle against all forms of injustice perpetrated against marginalised communities and a promise of a dignified life for them, that gave him the strength to start Banabasi Seva Samiti along with Gopabandhu in 1972, in Balliguda, Kandhamal district. Since its inception, the organisation has been selflessly taking up issues of education and the upliftment of poor tribesmen, and run several residential schools for tribal students, vocational educational institutions, old age homes and orphanages.
The vocational educational institutes for self-reliance set up by Biswanath has now spread to four different centres benefitting more than 300 children.
Under the organisation, as many as 14 crèches were opened for children up to 3 years. Furthermore, one of his prominent projects, A Nutritious Food Project continues to help hundreds in Balliguda, catering to the needs of malnourished children, pregnant and nursing mothers.
Years ago when skill development was still a new concept, the Samiti, under Biswanath’s leadership was able to set up a printing press to help children learn to print while opening up employment opportunities in the long run.
With an agriculture and kitchen garden, a dairy farm and a carpenter unit, the Samiti has been trying to change lives for the better holistically.
His constant efforts to better the socio-economic situation in these areas has inspired many youths to take the baton of change. Owing to this, in several villages, youth-driven campaigns have pushed them to zero alcoholism.
Additionally, to help the villages be self-sufficient economically, he introduced many income generating schemes like mulberry plantation, silk production unit, nutrition food production packet unit, dairy farm, agriculture project, printing press, and carpentry work among others.
He was a social worker, a close associate of Gopabandhu and Vinoba Bhave, a freedom fighter who joined the Quit India Movement and a ray of hope for all the marginalised communities of rural Odisha, who for decades, have been reeling under the injustices of the landowners, intermediaries, officials and many others.
His relentless work eventually earned him the prestigious Best Social Worker Award from the Bharatiya Adimjati Sevak Sangh, New Delhi, in addition to the Justice Rajkishore Das Award in 1996-97, and the 23rd Sarala Award 2002 for outstanding contribution in the field of social work.
The next year, he received the Rajiv Gandhi Sadbhavana Award for dedicated social service, followed by the Jamnalal Bajaj Award in 2008 for his selfless constructive work in tribal-dominated areas of Kujendri and Baliguda, Odisha.
Despite his illustrious life, his simplicity is what earned him ever-increasing respect among people of Odisha, as well as India. Though his life came to an end on May 29, 2010, his spirit and unwavering pulse to help common people, has truly immortalised him forever!
Find more details about the Jamnalal Bajaj Awards here.
