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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.

The Allure of Street Shopping Over Malls

Street shopping is not just buying — it’s bargaining, bonding, and breathing life.

Shopping has always been more than just a way to buy things. It reflects lifestyle, culture, and even emotions. In today’s fast-paced world, two different worlds of shopping coexist — the glimmering, air-conditioned world of malls and the colourful, lively lanes of street markets. Both have their own essence, yet when we look closely, we realise that while malls appear more sophisticated, the real life, energy, and connection lie in street shopping.

 

Malls are like modern-day palaces of consumerism. As we step inside, we are greeted by polished floors, soft lighting, pleasant music, and an atmosphere that almost feels unreal. Every shop is neatly arranged, every brand fighting for our attention with attractive displays and offers. Shopping in a mall is a comfortable experience — there is no dust, no crowd pushing, and no chaos. You can walk leisurely from one store to another, have a coffee in between, watch a movie, and spend the whole day indoors without even realising how time flies.

 

For many, malls are a symbol of modernity and status. They offer quality assurance, branded products, and the comfort of air-conditioning. You don’t have to bargain, you don’t have to worry about getting cheated, and everything comes with a bill and a warranty. But somewhere in all this perfection, something feels missing — that human touch, that rawness of real life. Malls often make shopping look mechanical — polished, predictable, and slightly emotionless.

 

Now let’s step outside those glass doors and into the streets—where the real magic begins.

 

Street shopping is like diving into a sea of colours, voices, and stories. The moment you enter a busy marketplace, you feel the pulse of real life. The shopkeepers calling out their offers, the aroma of street food, the chatter of people, the energy in the air — everything feels alive. Street markets are where creativity meets affordability. You find handmade jewellery, ethnic clothes, quirky bags, and items you never even thought existed — all at throwaway prices!

 

And the best part? Bargaining.

It’s not just about getting a lower price; it’s a lively exchange between the buyer and the seller. It’s a small battle of wits, ending with a smile and mutual satisfaction. In that short conversation, you connect with another human being — something malls rarely offer.

 

Street shopping also tells the story of hard-working vendors and small artisans who depend on their daily earnings. Every item on those stalls carries the sweat, skill, and dreams of people who create or sell them with passion. There is honesty and simplicity in their effort. It is this raw, unfiltered reality that gives street markets their soul.

 

In contrast, malls can sometimes feel like artificial bubbles — detached from the outside world. Everything is designed to look perfect, but it’s also expensive, repetitive, and often lacks originality. The same brands, the same products, the same discounts — no surprise, no adventure. Street shopping, on the other hand, is unpredictable. You never know what you’ll find. That’s what makes it so exciting.

 

Beyond the products, street markets give us something more valuable — an experience of real human connection. You hear laughter, you see bargaining, and you feel the rhythm of life moving all around you. You learn patience, observation, and the art of choosing wisely. Street shopping teaches you how to appreciate value, not just price.

 

Of course, street shopping comes with its own set of flaws. The crowds can be exhausting, the heat unbearable, and the quality uncertain. But those who truly love it will tell you that this chaos has its own beauty. It’s a slice of everyday life — imperfect yet real.

 

Malls, in comparison, may look polished, but they are isolated worlds of glass and glitter — where smiles are polite but not personal. Street markets, however, are bursting with emotions — of joy, struggle, laughter, and togetherness.

 

In the end, the difference between malls and street shopping is like the difference between a perfect photograph and a candid picture. The perfect one may look flawless, but the candid one feels alive. Malls may represent aspiration, but street shopping represents reality.

 

And perhaps, that’s why no matter how many malls rise in our cities, the narrow, noisy lanes of street markets will always have their charm. Because that’s where life breathes — in the voices of vendors, in the sparkle of roadside jewellery, in the scent of street food, and in the joy of finding something wonderful at a price you proudly bargained for.

 

(The writer is a tutor based in Thane. Views personal.)

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