I was at graduation ceremony organized by Ashoka youth ventures last Sunday. An event that celebrates a year long journey of young entrepreneurs who have lived their dream and continue o the journey. That o was overwhelmed is an understatement. Lisening to 20 young people,(read avg age 19 yrs) coming and sharing about initiatives that they have taken.
To share a few ,
A girl of 19 years , who could not complete her education as a result of insufficient finance, and had to drop out of schlool when she was in her 5th std, now gathers all school dropout from the slum that she lives in and talks to them about the importance of education. 9 out of the 15 kids that she has been talking to have now gone back to school.
Another young boy, 19yrs, who , till a year ago used to rob trucks with his friends and smoke and drink. One day decided that enough was enough. And he did not want to waste his life. But he did not stop at just that, he decided to help his other friends. He started a project called "Khel" - means " Play" - where he organises cricket matches in the slums. The 'idle' young boys, now have something to look forward to. They practice and work hard at their matches.Their time is now spent on the ground. In between mathes, the group gets to listen to a few talks about the importance and dignity of honest work. and they , by the way also learn about goal setting , team work, fitness in an engaging way.
A young girl of 18yrs, who works with child sex abuse, and encourages dialogues between parents and other social volunteers, when asked WHY she chose to do what she is doing, replied " I am doing it simply for so that few years from now I do not want o look back and regret the fact that I knew what the problem was, I knew the solution and yet I did not do anything about it.
I was left spellbound at such unadulterated wisdom. And a question that keep coming to my mind , is If these young people, given their exposure and circumstances, can take that Initiative, what is our excuse not to?
I was surprised that this event was NOT covered by any media.
I firmly believe that such stories need to be told and heard many more frequently and by more people.
Over 2 cups of cutting chai,in the first showers of Bombay, with my friend, The idea of "Stories of Hope" was born.
A gathering of people who have stories of hope to share a listen to. -Maybe once EVERY month in as many place as we can start.
We need to share stories and "Gossips" about the good that is happening in the world.
Joshi Ji
I am a regular at Prithvi..The cafe.
and those who are regularly regular, know Mr. Joshi or know of Mr.Joshi, or Joshi Uncle..The lone figure with a flowing white beard playing a flute..under the tree..just by himself ..for himself.
He comes plays..enjoys it for it's sake...says a passing hello to anyone who cares to salute..him or his spirit ..actually it's the same thing, for this 75 yr young..free spirit and just as inconspicuously goes away.
A couple of months ago, when I was sitting with a some friends, listening to the meloncholy strains of the flute...the music..stopped.
And my friend equally abruptly asked...Why did he stop so ..suddenly.
This suddenly gave birth to this poem :
Lingering Thoughts
The rumbling humdrum of voices
Dreams, exhilaration, hopes, Suleimani chai glasses
Continues......
The Mellow strains of Mr. Joshi’s flute
Stops.
Abruptly.
They say..
Why does he not linger?
Taper off
Be gradual
More gentle
Why?
So ....Sudden.
Sudden?
It’s done.
He’s done.
He’s played
Lived, Loved
Smiled, Got lost
In his boulevard
Of Memories
For now.
When it’s over
It’s over.
A breath...exhaled.
Note completed.
Moments lived.
Conversations done.
Expression exhibited.
Nothing to hold
Nothing left to complete
Moved On.
No........
Lingering Thoughts.
and those who are regularly regular, know Mr. Joshi or know of Mr.Joshi, or Joshi Uncle..The lone figure with a flowing white beard playing a flute..under the tree..just by himself ..for himself.
He comes plays..enjoys it for it's sake...says a passing hello to anyone who cares to salute..him or his spirit ..actually it's the same thing, for this 75 yr young..free spirit and just as inconspicuously goes away.
A couple of months ago, when I was sitting with a some friends, listening to the meloncholy strains of the flute...the music..stopped.
And my friend equally abruptly asked...Why did he stop so ..suddenly.
This suddenly gave birth to this poem :
Lingering Thoughts
The rumbling humdrum of voices
Dreams, exhilaration, hopes, Suleimani chai glasses
Continues......
The Mellow strains of Mr. Joshi’s flute
Stops.
Abruptly.
They say..
Why does he not linger?
Taper off
Be gradual
More gentle
Why?
So ....Sudden.
Sudden?
It’s done.
He’s done.
He’s played
Lived, Loved
Smiled, Got lost
In his boulevard
Of Memories
For now.
When it’s over
It’s over.
A breath...exhaled.
Note completed.
Moments lived.
Conversations done.
Expression exhibited.
Nothing to hold
Nothing left to complete
Moved On.
No........
Lingering Thoughts.
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