"Didi aaj aap hamari class ko padhaana!"

Me: Preeti, tum ghar jaake kya karti ho?
Preeti: ghar jaake, main aadha - ek ghanta hath-muh dhoti hoon, fir main bacchon ko tuition padhaati hoon.
Me: Kya? Tum aur bacchon ko padhati ho?
Preeti: Haan, A B C D vagera. chote bacchon ko. Fir unko 7.30 - 8 tak chorhti hoon.
Me: Accha fir padhai karti ho?
Preeti: Nahi, padhai toh yahin karti hoon. fir mummy ki help karti hoon, khaana khaate hain aur so jaate hain. 
Me: Accha, khelte nahi ho?
Preeti: Nahi, ghar jaake kabhi nahi khelti. sunday ko shayad thoda time ho, tabhi. Baaki jo khelna hota hai, wo yahin hota hai. 

Ghar jaake time nahi milta na. 

 ***

As soon as my car pulled into the premises of Government Nursery School at 3 pm, I was greeted with eager smiles and waves even before I could get out of the car. When I did, I was immediately flanked on both sides by children saying, "good afternoon didi!! Aaj toh aap padhaoge na humein?" Soon we went inside and before I knew it, a chair had been brought for me, I was seated on it and these curious little children were all around me, chattering away.

Before the classes started, Preeti and gang clicked pictures with my phone while some other classmates of hers - Prabhjeet and gang pondered of the specification of my phone - "didi ek baar phone palatnaa. Dekh 8 megapixel hai!" "Oh accha front camera se kheench rahe ho!" "Arre ye SAMSUNG hai! Dekh!" "didi mujhe aapka pattern lock samajh aa gaya!" "accha mujhe phone do na please, main photo kheechungi!"

The hullabaloo aside, we spoke to the kids about their backgrounds. When I asked them what their parents did, that was the only time I saw the tiniest bit of hesitation in their eyes as they looked at each other as if contemplating. Most of them are children of drivers, housemaids, factory workers, rickshaew pullers etc.  Once they started talking about them though, the hesitation vanished and they seemed eager to tell me about what they did after they went back home from here.

The above conversation hapened then. And Preeti only about 13 years old. Thereafter, others pitched in. the conversation then turned to cooking. They talked among themselves about how they cooked at home and they are all in the age bracket of 10 to 13 years. AND they are talking about full fledged cooking, cleaning as part of their routine. They do not sound unhappy about it either. They don't complain that the work interferes with their studies. They score well in their exams too, they tell me. Most of them only study after school at Hamari Kaksha.

There were many surprising and wonderful things that we discovered. Firstly, there were at least three children from a different class each who came to each one of us and requested that we teach their class today. I mean, they barely knew us, let alone how we would be as teachers! And let's face it, we have been exposed to a very different style of teaching than what them and what they require. Yet, they were so keen to have us - without prejudice and without hesitation.

Morover, they were so eager to study. I remember going around the back to drink water after finishing one chapter with the class 7 students when these two little boys came to me and said, "didi aap humein padha do!" This was towards the last half an hour too. While going back, Ankita from class 4 came running towards me for the third time and told me, "didi aap kal humein pakka padhaana!" THEN, Tanisha from class 7 came and grabbed my hand, "didi main aapko dhoond rahi thi! Chalo chapter khatam karna hai!"

My other teammates saw the same enthusiasm and interest from the kids. Karan, Prateek and Anoop helped Preeti write a poem on 'corruption' which was due in her day school today. What she came up with was a simple reflection of her own hope and potential. It was heartening.

We taught them for the first time. Their willingness to learn is stunning, as if they want to absorb as much as they can and showcase what they know without the fear of embarrassment and mistakes. Where one might say they lack in pronunciation, they more than make up with their efforts. Besides, who is to say that they must all have impeccable diction?

We realized that there is a lot more to learn from the children and this humble, diligent organization than we had anticipated. My teammates and I agreed on the fact that some of them spoke better than how many of us did at their age. They worked harder than we did. They were more willing to learn than we were. Why? Maybe because they understood the value of what they had better than we did because it was scarce; and we didn't, because we never felt the scarcity.

"Didi, aap mere sath dance karoge?"

Her name is Preeti and she is in class 7. She is a student of an NGO in Chandigarh called Hamari Kaksha, which seeks to provide help to underprivileged students - both academic and holistic - after school. She claims her favorite subject to be English and least favorite to be Maths because "wo sab bhool jaati hai." She is chirpy, enthusiastic, bright and a brilliant dancer. Dancer? How do I know this on my first day itself with the NGO? Here's how.

When my team and I FINALLY found the school where Hamari Kaksha held after school classes, we stepped out of the car and were greeted by a sight of a small crowd of children playing outside the Government school, waiting for the class to start. One of the boys was attempting to ride a bicycle on the back tyre alone, hoisting the front tyre in the air with this arms. Others were chasing, giggling, laughing and chatting in small groups.

As we approached - tentatively - for none of us were particularly confident of ourselves as teachers or at handling teenage government school children, the attention of the children seemed to shift slightly. They knew there were strangers among them. They continued to do what they were doing, throwing us an occasional glance as we huddled together as a group of five post graduation communication students.

We entered the premises soon after and while we waited for the person in-charge to arrive, we sat on benches at one end of area, so as to observe and acclimatize ourselves with this unfamiliar environment with now growing number of incoming students who seemed to be glancing at us, pointing us out in the distance. Attempting to brainstorm our objectives for the next ten days for which we would be associated with the NGO, we took notes and discussed how we could apply managerial and/or communication strategies to do our bit for the organization.

While we were busy discussing what we were supposed to be doing as post graduate communication students, I saw a blur in the corner of my eye and the next thing I knew, a little girl with neatly braided hair stood in front of me with her hand outstretched,

"Hello didi, what is your name?"

Her eyes twinkled and her smile was warm. "Geetika, and yours," I replied. "Preeti," she said as I shook her hand. This animated young girl told us she was in class 7 and asked us whether we would be teaching them. She asked us all our names and where we were from and how long we would be there. She asked us lots of questions and as conversed with this happy little thing, we found ourselves getting more and more at ease. Soon, there were three other friends of hers there, just as chirpy and eager to talk to us. They were sitting with us, speaking in their high pitched little voices and we found ourselves laughing and smiling with them, our prejudices and inhibitions melting away.

We spoke to the teacher in-charge and  then classes started thereafter, in small batches on the ground itself. We walked around trying to observe and assess first (as per our objectives as post graduation communication students). Students from classes Nursery to class 10, learning names of body parts, salutations in English or poring over their books, scribbling away in their notebooks, and running to their teachers with their questions and answers. Their enthusiasm was heartening; so was their friendliness to us. Every student we spoke to, was well mannered, warm and enthusiastic.

At the end of the day, two things happened. Our prejudices and inhibitions about working with such students had evaporated. We had found ourselves willing to get closer and understand these kids and how they communicated - amongst themselves, with their studies and with their teachers - not only as post graduation communication students, but as people who saw some reflection of themselves in these children. They were not so different from how we were, contrary to our previous perceptions. We were faced by an different socio-economic and educational reality and we had our own notions about it, till these children actually broke our walls.

Secondly, we felt like we had a connection with these children. By the end of those two hours that we were there, some of us had played ball with these children, some of us had spoken to their teachers, who happened to have been schooled here itself and were now volunteering to teach here as well, some of us had pictures clicked with them and some of us even danced with them. This hardworking, hopeful, talented lot had made us feel like a part of their team in such a short period of time. It felt amazing and for me, it left me feeling content and hopeful.

There was a bright gleam in their eyes, a spark in the way each of them confidently greeted us - "Hello didi! Wassup?" or "Hi didi aap kya karte ho?" or "Didi ye na bohot shaitaan hai! Dekho do ladkiyon ke beech mein baitha hai!!". There was a welcoming pull in their midst that made us want to know their likes and dislikes, where they came from and whether they liked to sing or dance. There was a comfort that their company made us feel that made us feel elated when they pulled on our hands and asked us to join in in their games. They put genuine, happy smiles on our faces and made us feel more determined to know more and do more for them, in whatever time we had with them.

For me and another teammate of mine, Rupali, the time at the NGO ended with Preeti and her friends pulling us towards the back of the classroom.

"Didi aap mere sath dance karoge?"

When I asked them where we would get the music, she replied simply by saying, "aapke phone mein hoga na gaana! Koi bhi chala do!" And so we danced! Preeti danced and I followed. Her friends laughed and danced around us and we found ourselves feeling like one of them, no longer strangers. As Balam Pichkaari came to an end, we found ourselves holding hands with these little girls and walking out with them while they extracted reassurances from us that we would come again the next day. After a warm group hug, they walked their way while we made our way to the car.

Reflecting on what how short this experience, the fact that it made us feel refreshed, hopeful and determined while it did away with our tiny, inconsequential inhibitions, how it opened us up to possibilities and how wonderful we were feeling by the end of it, it made us all the more eager to work with Hamari Kaksha and more than anything, the children.

Eyes shining bright,
Smiles full of life,
They made us their own,
In almost no time.
And now as I head back
I can only think 
About tomorrow when I
Will come back again.
For that infectious hope,
And to seek that start,
That comes from within,
These beautiful little hearts.