... And knowing that your actions contributed to it, even if in a very tiny way?
(Reposted from LiveJournal)
The orphanage is home to around 200 kids, ages ranging from around 5 to 20. Poor kids who were abandoned elsewhere, living together, on whatever meager sustenance trickles through to them, without complaints. Kids of all heights and ages, cheerful and smiling at the visitors.
Every year, on the 25th of December, a group of uncles, aunts and cousins have been gathering there, the last few years. It has become an annual tradition, after one uncle passed away. To be honest, I can't remember if it was his birthday or if it was his wedding anniversary (I think it might be), but it doesn't really matter, does it? The bunch of folk (and friends who volunteer) gather there at the Ashram every Christmas day, and everyone contributes something - be it food, some essentials, cookies or chocolate, or just service, and spend the day with the kids there, having fun.
This year, I joined the group for the first time, and I can honestly say I was glad to get out of my shell of apathetic indifference and laziness - at least with this activity. As it turns out, the group gets bigger each year, with friends and more family joining in.
We drove to the place around 11 am, picking up another relative who wanted to come with us, and caught up with the cousins we hadn't seen in a while. I fell in love with the place - it is away from the busy roads, and it feels like a village there - It's in the middle of an estate-like farmland, which helps with the tranquility. There's a rustic feel to the place, and it's a welcome change from the concrete jungle surrounding it. Turns out, it used to be this Gandhian Ashram, started in 1934, and has largely fallen into disarray and neglect (as with most useful Government institutions).
Slowly, the kids started trickling in from their accommodations, and gathered around, visibly excited, forming a neat line. A couple of aunts had planned some simple activities to keep them engaged, and got them all involved in some games. Even the simplest of games we privileged kids scoff at, and patronize - like, say, tossing a ball into a bucket, were met with enthusiasm and gusto by the kids - even the older teenagers. Watching them participate in the games, run around laughing and glad to be a part of it all.
Then, there was this impromptu pick-a-topic-and-speak contest, which a few older kids grudgingly participated in (and actually enjoyed it). Followed by a simple lunch we had organized from a caterer, for all the students, staff and our party - and we joined the kids for a mass lunch in the huge shed-like structure, which, we learned, was the common room.
The students begin lunch with a simple prayer, thanking God for the food, and proceed to eat whatever is on their plate (which they brought along with themselves, from their living accommodations), without complaints or demands. Offer some extra food, and they gladly accept with a smile and a thanks. And there's a heart-warming sense of community and friendship among the kids - and discipline. There are no fights, no greed, no spite. Just satisfaction after a full meal.
After lunch, the kids formed a neat line to collect whatever little we had gathered to give each them - very simple stuff, from our perspective - stuff we take for granted - a mat for sleeping on, a brush to wash clothes with, some stationery, ice cream, fruits, cookies, chocolate, etc (These items were actually bought after consulting with the caretakers there beforehand, after an inquiry about what the kids needed most).
It was a treat watching them smile and join one another in glee, laughing and comparing colors and the gifts they got.
As we left the place later, a bunch of the kids who were playing around in groups, came to see us off, and cheerfully waved us all goodbyes, loudly, with huge grins and a lot of gusto. There was joy in their faces - and gratefulness, despite their daily struggles just to get by, just to have what every child deserves - a childhood without care or worry.
I'll admit it was a humbling experience. These are kids who don't have a family to speak of, living in ramshackle old buildings, living on substandard resources that the Government provides - and they often have to struggle for even some simple necessities, like mats and stationery. And yet, they seem content and uncomplaining, thankful for what they have - and joyous whenever they get something more.
I look back at myself, see that I have a functional, caring family (and I complain that they smother me), friends (who I lose contact with), a steady job (which I constantly crib about), a decent financial state (even though I'm always claiming I'm near broke), lots of luxuries (but never enough, yeah?). And yet, I'm not happy. There's always something lacking, that I need to complain about or make myself miserable over.
Forget being thankful for what I already have - It's always about wanting more and complaining that the world is unfair.
I guess, when you put things in perspective, life has a lot of lessons for you. I realize my worries and problems are insignificant and meaningless for the most part, compared to what billions of people around the world face. And I should be thankful for that. Despite all my complaints and frustrations, I'm thankful for what I already have and what I take for granted every single day.
And I'm thankful to the family, who got me out of my humdrum daily existence of constant complaints and unreasonable anger at the world, out of my shell (even if it was for the day), and showed me just how good my life actually is. And I'm promising myself I'll be a better person. Vague as THAT sounds as a resolution, I think it's reasonable enough. Less complaints, more proactive initiatives. Help other people. Make them smile. Spread love and joy.
And be happy. Cheesy as it sounds.
(Reposted from LiveJournal)
Christmas 2013 saw me joining (for the first time) my cousins and an assortment of uncles and aunts in their recent tradition of visiting the Gurukula Vidyapeetha Ashram, a Government-run orphanage-school, near Kengeri, in Bangalore. Tucked away near the satellite town, about a mile from the noisy Mysore Road, is this tiny institution, with a couple of old buildings, a large shed-like structure and a tiny playing field with a few trees around. Any average Indian, on a brief glance at the buildings, would instantly peg it as a typical Government-run educational institution, with all the red tape and neglect that comes along with the mantle. And that wouldn't really be very harsh a judgment either.
The orphanage is home to around 200 kids, ages ranging from around 5 to 20. Poor kids who were abandoned elsewhere, living together, on whatever meager sustenance trickles through to them, without complaints. Kids of all heights and ages, cheerful and smiling at the visitors.
Every year, on the 25th of December, a group of uncles, aunts and cousins have been gathering there, the last few years. It has become an annual tradition, after one uncle passed away. To be honest, I can't remember if it was his birthday or if it was his wedding anniversary (I think it might be), but it doesn't really matter, does it? The bunch of folk (and friends who volunteer) gather there at the Ashram every Christmas day, and everyone contributes something - be it food, some essentials, cookies or chocolate, or just service, and spend the day with the kids there, having fun.
This year, I joined the group for the first time, and I can honestly say I was glad to get out of my shell of apathetic indifference and laziness - at least with this activity. As it turns out, the group gets bigger each year, with friends and more family joining in.
We drove to the place around 11 am, picking up another relative who wanted to come with us, and caught up with the cousins we hadn't seen in a while. I fell in love with the place - it is away from the busy roads, and it feels like a village there - It's in the middle of an estate-like farmland, which helps with the tranquility. There's a rustic feel to the place, and it's a welcome change from the concrete jungle surrounding it. Turns out, it used to be this Gandhian Ashram, started in 1934, and has largely fallen into disarray and neglect (as with most useful Government institutions).
Slowly, the kids started trickling in from their accommodations, and gathered around, visibly excited, forming a neat line. A couple of aunts had planned some simple activities to keep them engaged, and got them all involved in some games. Even the simplest of games we privileged kids scoff at, and patronize - like, say, tossing a ball into a bucket, were met with enthusiasm and gusto by the kids - even the older teenagers. Watching them participate in the games, run around laughing and glad to be a part of it all.
Then, there was this impromptu pick-a-topic-and-speak contest, which a few older kids grudgingly participated in (and actually enjoyed it). Followed by a simple lunch we had organized from a caterer, for all the students, staff and our party - and we joined the kids for a mass lunch in the huge shed-like structure, which, we learned, was the common room.
The students begin lunch with a simple prayer, thanking God for the food, and proceed to eat whatever is on their plate (which they brought along with themselves, from their living accommodations), without complaints or demands. Offer some extra food, and they gladly accept with a smile and a thanks. And there's a heart-warming sense of community and friendship among the kids - and discipline. There are no fights, no greed, no spite. Just satisfaction after a full meal.
After lunch, the kids formed a neat line to collect whatever little we had gathered to give each them - very simple stuff, from our perspective - stuff we take for granted - a mat for sleeping on, a brush to wash clothes with, some stationery, ice cream, fruits, cookies, chocolate, etc (These items were actually bought after consulting with the caretakers there beforehand, after an inquiry about what the kids needed most).
It was a treat watching them smile and join one another in glee, laughing and comparing colors and the gifts they got.
As we left the place later, a bunch of the kids who were playing around in groups, came to see us off, and cheerfully waved us all goodbyes, loudly, with huge grins and a lot of gusto. There was joy in their faces - and gratefulness, despite their daily struggles just to get by, just to have what every child deserves - a childhood without care or worry.
I'll admit it was a humbling experience. These are kids who don't have a family to speak of, living in ramshackle old buildings, living on substandard resources that the Government provides - and they often have to struggle for even some simple necessities, like mats and stationery. And yet, they seem content and uncomplaining, thankful for what they have - and joyous whenever they get something more.
I look back at myself, see that I have a functional, caring family (and I complain that they smother me), friends (who I lose contact with), a steady job (which I constantly crib about), a decent financial state (even though I'm always claiming I'm near broke), lots of luxuries (but never enough, yeah?). And yet, I'm not happy. There's always something lacking, that I need to complain about or make myself miserable over.
Forget being thankful for what I already have - It's always about wanting more and complaining that the world is unfair.
I guess, when you put things in perspective, life has a lot of lessons for you. I realize my worries and problems are insignificant and meaningless for the most part, compared to what billions of people around the world face. And I should be thankful for that. Despite all my complaints and frustrations, I'm thankful for what I already have and what I take for granted every single day.
And I'm thankful to the family, who got me out of my humdrum daily existence of constant complaints and unreasonable anger at the world, out of my shell (even if it was for the day), and showed me just how good my life actually is. And I'm promising myself I'll be a better person. Vague as THAT sounds as a resolution, I think it's reasonable enough. Less complaints, more proactive initiatives. Help other people. Make them smile. Spread love and joy.
And be happy. Cheesy as it sounds.
