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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 Lost Art of Critical Thinking

In an age of instant outrage and echo chambers, the rapid erosion of independent thought is being driven by systems that reward conformity and emotional ease.

Imagine a world where few ask “why?” anymore. What happens to a society when the ability to reason, challenge, and reflect is replaced by quick reactions, shallow opinions, and echo chambers of agreement? The world has become so loud, so fast, and so saturated with information that the human mind, once a powerful tool for inquiry and growth, has dulled into passive acceptance.


This is not some distant possibility. It is already happening. Many philosophers and social scientists have warned of this trend, sometimes calling it collective shallowness. It does not necessarily mean that people are unintelligent. Rather, individuals increasingly accept ready-made ideas and give up their independence of thought without realizing it. When that occurs, societies become easier to control, divide and mislead.


Rote Learning

Part of the problem lies in systems designed more for efficiency than enlightenment. Schools and universities often reward memorisation over exploration. In India, for instance, students preparing for board exams such as Class 10 and Class 12 focus on practising most probable questions. They are evaluated mainly on standardised answers, which teachers find convenient to correct. Many take the path of least effort. Those who ask unusual questions or try different approaches are not encouraged; they may even score fewer marks. Yet many of them shine later in life, when original thought and problem-solving matter more than exam results.


Teachers themselves often prefer the safe and predictable. Researchers chase popular trends or easy numbers instead of grappling with difficult questions. Politicians resort to slogans rather than evidence. Decision-makers frequently adopt popular policies without carefully examining long-term consequences. In every case, the path of least resistance prevails over the harder work of reasoning.


Information Overload

The digital age promised a flood of knowledge but delivered instead a tsunami of noise. Neuroscientist Daniel Levitin notes that the average person today handles many times more information each day than just a few decades ago. Our brains, however, are not built to cope with this flood. Overwhelmed, we often rely on mental shortcuts. Instead of weighing evidence, we glance at what others believe. This instinct, known as ‘social proof,’ is natural but makes us vulnerable to shallow thinking.


Another worrying trend is the decline of deep reading. Research by scholar Maryanne Wolf suggests that digital media is reshaping the reading brain: people skim more, jump between screens and struggle to focus on long texts. Yet such focus is essential for real analysis. Without it, understanding remains superficial. Carl Sagan warned that we live in a society deeply dependent on science and technology, yet very few people understand these subjects. His concern was not ignorance alone. It was the loss of the ability to think critically about the systems upon which we rely.


Uncomfortable Truths

Critical thinking also requires confronting uncomfortable truths. It asks us to admit we might be wrong. To change our minds in the light of new evidence. To challenge our identities and cherished beliefs. The psychologist Erich Fromm argued that many people prefer to give up their independence of thought because freedom brings responsibility, and responsibility is difficult to handle.


Social media fuels the fire further. These platforms often reward outrage more than nuance, and they thrive on division rather than understanding. As Marshall McLuhan famously said, “The medium is the message.” The way we consume information pressures us toward speed instead of depth, certainty instead of humility and popularity instead of truth


How, then, do we reclaim critical thinking? The answer lies not in intelligence but in courage and practice. Courage to admit we may be wrong. Courage to listen before speaking. Courage to say “I don’t know” and search for a better answer. Socrates’ ancient wisdom remains apt: “The only true wisdom is in knowing that you know nothing.” That humility is the starting point.


Rebuilding a culture of inquiry must occur at all levels. Students can be encouraged to ask at least one deeper question in every class. Teachers can grade for reasoning steps, not only for correct answers. Researchers can preregister studies to focus on substance rather than fashionable results. Politicians often prefer slogans to evidence, and decision-makers may feel compelled to adopt popular policies quickly. Instead, they could require evidence briefs laying out pros, cons, and uncertainties before acting.


On the personal level, small habits matter. Read one long article or book chapter without glancing at your phone. Seek out at least one opposing view each week - not to argue against it, but to understand it. Before sharing a post or claim, trace it to its source and read at least the summary. Prefer primary sources over summaries wherever possible.


Psychologists call this metacognition: thinking about our thinking. Another powerful habit is dialectical reasoning - the ability to hold two opposing ideas in mind long enough to learn from both.


Today, critical thinking is not merely an academic skill but a moral choice. It is the choice of truth over comfort and that choice can be painful. Yet clarity is always preferable to ignorance, because reality, however demanding, is the only ground upon which freedom stands.


The disappearance of critical thinking is not inevitable. For the future will not be shaped by louder voices or sharper slogans, but by minds willing to sit with complexity and value understanding over easy victory.


While critical thinking is fading, it can be restored through awareness and reflection. It begins with one simple act: thinking for yourself with humility and courage. And if each of us pauses once a day to ask a better question, this culture of thinking will gradually return.


(The author is the former Director, Agharkar Research Institute, Pune and Visiting Professor, IIT Bombay. Views are personal.)

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