A rusting wayside hoarding, announces the Sapera settlement in Bhaniyawala close to Doiwala. Ten generations of this tribe, more than 80 families have made this tiny shanty colony their home. For them, little has changed as far as basic amenities available around their habitat is concerned, except their children have now been introduced to the ‘world of letters.’
Thanks to efforts of PEN-India Foundation, an NGO run by two dynamic young men Anoop Rawat and Santosh Budakoti, under the wings of an elderly scientist Dr. Prakash Keshaviah who put their heads and hearts together and founded Pen India.
Today 27 young minds between the age group of 4-6 years come for four hours daily, to a one-room rented school, where two teachers guide them.
Like all success stories Pen India too had its share of struggle. Anoop Rawat tells us, “the most difficult part was convincing the Sapera’s (snake charmers) to send their children to school, it took us close to 8 months just doing that.”
A few weeks old, PEN stands for ‘Providing Education to the Needy,’ their aim is simple! To offer free of cost, quality education to under-privileged children.
Working on the idea of how children should not be limited to memorizing books but be taught creatively, Dr. Prakash Keshaviah said, “the children of the school will not be limited to mere bookish information but will be provided activity-based education to enhance creativity and problem-solving.”
With best intentions in mind and the relentless hard-work of the core group along with a steady team of young volunteers Shivika Jain, Sushil Nautiyal, Naresh Shrikoti, Sandeep Rawat, Aarti Pundir, Pankaj Budakoti, Manmohan Dobhal, Sandeep Kumain, Ritu Sharma and Deepalika, Pen India School is a success story in the making.
Any help to this noble deed, shall be much appreciated (Stationary; Mats; Games; uniform and monetary aid)
Anoop Rawat: +91 95578 30682
Santosh Budakoti: +918077750677
The slopes above and below the road is awash in a nodding sea of flowers dancing in the gentle breeze, watching you through the water-laden mist which comes down to touch the plants, as the colours jump out at you: crimson, scarlet, mauve, white, yellow, pink, orange, purple and sometimes a deep, almost black maroon. The wild-flowers play, ‘now-you-see-me, now-you-don’t,’ just as mist envelopes them briefly in between sunshine and rain.
Such a gathering of wildflowers warms the cockles of the heart and pleases to the eyes just at a time of the year when everything else is shrouded in a gloomy mist of grey, slowly making its way in Autumn.
