All of our students are bright and beautiful souls despite the difficult backgrounds they have come to us from. They have immense potential waiting to be realized. What they need is direction, a little encouragement and easy access to wherewithal.
Over the years we have been able to mainstream around 100 students into private schools in the neighbourhood. They are all doing well. A few of our students who have cleared their senior secondary level through the NIOS ( National Institute of Open Schooling) have joined the digital world, a few have joined the health sector and are doing well. Prakash Deep has realized that it is important to equip these children with essential skills which offer them opportunities to join the mainstream.
Putul, a small built girl could not have been more than six years, came to the school one fine morning carrying a little baby of a few months precariously balanced on her waist. She had been brought from a village in Bihar and felt lost in the urban surroundings of Faridabad and the filthy slums of Fatehpur. She lived in small room there with her parents and a newly born baby she was expected to take care of while the parents went out for work. .
It was 2003 when Sita and her three sisters entered our lives. They had lost their father who had worked as a watchman in the sector in which we live. Soon they were out of school and had no place to live with no source of livelihood.
Their beautiful mother worked hard and, with some help, the children were sent back to school. She toiled day and night to make ends meet.
Ritesh is the son of a mason. He was quiet and shy when he came to our school. I found him to be consistent in his work, and overall intelligent. It was a pleasure to see him ready with the correct answers even before I had finished asking the question.Tara, daughter of a watchman, came to us as a little baby. Insecure and unsure, she went trailing behind her elder sister like a little lamb. They had lost their father in an accident.
A face lost in the crowd
He came with two of his little siblings to our school at the young age of seven. In the distant background, I could see his emaciated mother suckling a little baby while trying to manage the other two little ones under the shade of the Banyan Tree. He, as the oldest, spoke for the family asking if I could arrange a place for them to stay in our sector where people have partly constructed houses for which they keep chowkidars to maintain the place.