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...

min read

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.

Parallel paths, shared peak

Abhijit Mulye
Nov 25, 2025
2 min read

Decoding Bhagwat-Modi chemistry during Dharma Dhwaj hoisting

Mumbai: On a crisp Tuesday morning in Ayodhya, as the winter sun gilded the newly completed shikhar of the Ram Janmabhoomi Mandir, the 161-foot ascent to the summit offered more than just a panoramic view of the holy city—it offered a rare, unscripted glimpse into the recalibrated equation between the State and the Sangh.

Prime Minister Narendra Modi and RSS Sarsanghchalak Mohan Bhagwat, the twin pillars of the saffron ecosystem, came together to hoist the Dharma Dhwaj. Yet, for those observing the choreography of power, the story lay not in the flag, but in the footwork. In the wake of reports suggesting a “bit tense” relationship between the BJP and its ideological fountainhead—stemming from the post-2024 electoral shifts and internal debates on “arrogance” versus “self-sufficiency”—the chemistry on display was a study in mutual accommodation.

The interactions began with a subtle play of protocol. Bhagwat, arriving first and waiting for the Prime Minister, signaled the Sangh’s enduring discipline—the patriarch who holds the fort. When Modi arrived, Bhagwat initially “led the way,” a visual metaphor for the RSS’s self-perception as the moral compass guiding the political executive. However, the most telling image emerged as they moved towards the sanctum sanctorum: walking together, yet in “two distinct, parallel rows.”

This visual of parallel lines serves as a potent symbol for the current BJP-RSS dynamic. Unlike the fused, indistinguishable unity of earlier years, the relationship now appears to be one of “parallel progression.” They are moving in the same direction, towards the same deity, but on clearly defined, separate tracks. The parallel walk suggests a functional truce: the BJP manages the governance (the “Action” Modi spoke of), while the RSS tends to the societal soul (the “Ideals” Bhagwat emphasized).

The chemistry softened, however, with a gesture of genuine deference. As Bhagwat, perhaps slowed by age, trailed a few paces behind, the Prime Minister paused. He waited. This momentary halt was significant. It was a public acknowledgment that no matter the political velocity of the BJP, it cannot outpace its ideological anchor. The eventual pulling of the lever together to hoist the flag reinforced this: the mechanism of the Hindu Rashtra project requires the dual force of political power and organizational mobilization to function.

Their speeches further illuminated this division of labor. Modi’s address was characteristically forward-looking and administrative, framing Ayodhya as a “city of action” and a powerhouse for a developed India. He spoke as the CEO of the nation, grounding the divine in the tangible metrics of progress. In contrast, Bhagwat acted as the custodian of memory, invoking the “sacrifices” of the past and positioning India as a “giver to the world.” While Modi spoke of the State’s capability, Bhagwat spoke of the Nation’s character.

The Ayodhya event, therefore, did not erase the reported tensions—the parallel lines remained distinct—but it managed them. It showcased a mature, perhaps more transactional, phase of the Modi-Bhagwat equation. They may no longer be walking in lockstep, but as they bowed to Ramlalla, the message to the cadre was clear: the parallel lines may never meet, but they are indispensable to keeping the train on the tracks.

1 Comment

Prashant Pitaliya

Nov 26, 2025

The article is based on the good observation backed by the study of political views at present .