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By:

Shoumojit Banerjee

27 August 2024 at 9:57:52 am

Classroom of Courage

In drought-scarred Maharashtra, a couple’s experiment in democratic schooling is turning child beggars into model citizens In the parched stretches of Maharashtra, from Solapur to the drought-hit villages of Marathwada, a modest social experiment has quietly unfolded for nearly two decades. It is neither a grand government scheme nor a corporate-backed charity. Since 2007, the Ajit Foundation, founded by Mahesh and Vinaya Nimbalkar, has worked with children living at the sharpest edges of...

Classroom of Courage

In drought-scarred Maharashtra, a couple’s experiment in democratic schooling is turning child beggars into model citizens In the parched stretches of Maharashtra, from Solapur to the drought-hit villages of Marathwada, a modest social experiment has quietly unfolded for nearly two decades. It is neither a grand government scheme nor a corporate-backed charity. Since 2007, the Ajit Foundation, founded by Mahesh and Vinaya Nimbalkar, has worked with children living at the sharpest edges of society in Maharashtra. The foundation has become a home for out-of-school children, those who have never enrolled, the children of migrant labourers and single parents, and those who scavenge at garbage dumps or drift between odd jobs. To call their foundation an “NGO” is to miss the point. Vinaya Nimbalkar describes it as a “democratic laboratory”, where education is not merely instruction but an initiation into citizenship. The couple were once government schoolteachers with the Solapur Zilla Parishad, leading stable lives. Yet what they witnessed unsettled them: children who had never held a pencil, begging at traffic signals or sorting refuse for a living. Prompted by this reality, the Nimbalkars resigned their jobs to work full-time for the education of such children. Leap of Faith They began modestly, teaching children in migrant settlements in Solapur and using their own salaries to pay small honorariums to activists. Funds soon ran dry, and volunteers drifted away. Forced out of their home because of their commitment to the cause, they started a one-room school where Vinaya, Mahesh, their infant son Srijan and forty children aged six to fourteen lived together as an unlikely family. The experiment later moved to Barshi in the Solapur district with support from Anandvan. Rural hardship, financial uncertainty and the pandemic repeatedly tested their resolve. At one stage, they assumed educational guardianship of nearly 200 children from families that survived by collecting scrap on the village outskirts. Eventually, the foundation relocated to Talegaon Dabhade near Pune, where it now runs a residential hostel. Twenty-five children currently live and study there. The numbers may seem modest, but the ambition is not. Democracy in Practice What distinguishes the Ajit Foundation is not only who it serves but also how it operates. Within its walls, democracy is practised through a Children’s Gram Panchayat and a miniature Municipal Council elected by the children themselves. Young candidates canvass, hold meetings and present their budgets. Children maintain accounts and share decisions about chores, activities and certain disciplinary matters. In a country where democratic culture is often reduced to voting, the foundation’s approach is quietly radical. It treats children from marginalised backgrounds as citizens in formation. The right to choose — whether to focus on sport, cooking, mathematics or cultural activities — is respected. “We try never to take away what is their own,” says Vinaya Nimbalkar. Rather than forcing every child into a uniform academic mould, individual abilities are encouraged. A boy skilled in daily calculations may not be pushed into hours of bookish study; a girl who excels in cooking may lead the kitchen team. For children who have known only precarity, standing for election, managing a budget or speaking at a meeting can be transformative. On International Women’s Day, the foundation seeks visibility not just for praise but for partnership. If you are inspired by their mission, consider supporting or collaborating—your involvement can help extend opportunities to more children in need.

Has IPL Become Indian Cricket’s Frankenstein’s Monster?

Cricket’s once-untouchable bastion, Test cricket, finds itself in a precarious position today. For generations, Test cricket was considered the purest form of the game, revered by former greats for its ability to showcase the sport’s depth of character and skill. It was a format that demanded patience, mental fortitude and tireless commitment. With no limits on overs or innings, the game unfolded at its own pace, allowing for strategic nuance and raw skill to dominate. Now, Test cricket’s charm has begun to wane, eclipsed by a faster-paced era that prioritizes entertainment over tradition.


India’s recent whitewash by New Zealand starkly highlighted the decline of domestic cricket, once a breeding ground for world-class talent. In 1987, despite losing a six-match Test series to Pakistan, Sunil Gavaskar’s masterclass of a knock on an unplayable track in Bangalore exemplified the resilience forged in India’s competitive domestic cricketing system. Unlike today, that defeat did not leave Indian cricket fans wringing their hands in despair.


The roots of this decline can be traced back to the colonial origins of Test cricket itself. Structured by the British, its format is undeniably traditional, with two innings spread across five days. Yet, even after enduring these gruelling lengths, a result is not always guaranteed, leaving fans disillusioned by the unpredictability of its outcomes. This structural flaw, left unaddressed for decades, robbed the format of its appeal, particularly in India, where commercial and entertainment values reign supreme. With Test cricket’s appeal diminishing, the economic viability of the format also took a hit, leading to lower salaries for players and a steady decline in its stature.


Enter Kerry Packer in 1977. The Australian media mogul’s World Series Cricket - featuring the fast-paced, limited 50-over format - offered a fresh alternative. Packer lured top-tier cricketers from the West Indies, Australia, Pakistan, and South Africa with lucrative contracts, a move that sent shockwaves through the cricketing world. As star players defected, Test cricket saw an exodus of talent, leaving the format floundering in its wake. While the dust eventually settled and players returned to international cricket by the late 1970s, one thing had irrevocably changed: one-day cricket, with its promise of action-packed contests, had captured the imagination of fans and players alike.


By 2008, the introduction of the Indian Premier League (IPL) would serve as the final blow to Test cricket’s prominence. The IPL, a 20-over format, offered astronomical sums of money, not just for elite players but for relatively unknown talent too. In the blink of an eye, the focus of budding Indian cricketers shifted from the traditional grind of first-class cricket and Test matches to the glitzy, high-reward world of the IPL. The lure of financial success and the ease of shorter formats meant that players were less inclined to endure the rigor of Test cricket.


Even more alarming is that the appeal of Test cricket among Indian fans has similarly dwindled. Earlier, a match between two Test-playing nations would fill stadiums. Now, the IPL has redefined what it means to watch cricket. The fast-paced nature of the T20 format, along with its franchise-based model, has fostered a fan base that is less concerned with national pride and more captivated by the spectacle. Youngsters in India now view the IPL as the pinnacle of success.


This trend isn’t unique to India; in countries like the West Indies and South Africa, players are increasingly opting for the financial rewards of T20 leagues over national representation, with pride in the national jersey giving way to lucrative contracts.


With the T20 juggernaut now firmly entrenched, is Test cricket doomed to fade into irrelevance? Should cricket boards across the world consider reforming the format into a more result-oriented, limited-over style to attract both players and spectators?


The answer may lie in reconciling the tradition of Test cricket with the demands of the commercialized cricketing landscape. If purists fail to adapt, Test cricket risks becoming the sport’s forgotten relic. India’s IPL has verily transformed into cricket’s Frankenstein’s monster - an uncontrollable force that threatens to consume the very fabric of the game it helped redefine.


(The author is a retired banker and cricket expert)

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