In the MY STORY section, we present some of the most compelling and pertinent stories and experiences shared with us by our readers. Do you have something to share? Write to us: contact@thebetterindia.com with "MY STORY" in the subject line.
My name is Mohit Kapoor and I am a cycling enthusiast and traveller by heart. When my father offered to buy me a scooter at the age of 16, I decided to pass on his offer and asked for a bicycle instead. I wanted a petrol-free vehicle. My father let me have my way and soon, I started a journey to explore Rajasthan.
Not satisfied with this small sojourn, I decided I wanted to travel from Kashmir to Kanyakumari.
I had no money but I was not to be deterred. I set off on my bicycle for a journey that took me from Rohtang Pass near Manali in Himachal Pradesh to Vivekanand Rock Memorial at the southernmost point of India.
Alone, without money or a sponsor, I sold my cell phone to arrange equipment for this tour. Finding food and shelter in gurudwaras and temples during the trip, I conquered the goal I had set for myself and lived a dream that I chased all alone.
Pedalling from Manali to Kanyakumari in less than a month and then sitting on the last rock in India, touching the seagreen waters of the India Ocean, I encountered the good, the bad, and the beautiful of India.
In the second and concluding part of this odyssey, I felt like I had left my teens behind to become a man, and had come to know myself through my bicycle, a strong pair of legs, and a will of steel.
Self-inspired as I was, I again decided to venture on my next cycling expedition. Travelling through Ladakh on a saddle and two pedals, I lived this dream too with the same fervour.
By the time the trip was over I knew I wanted to explore the world. I had learnt a lot about India from the roads I had travelled but was thirsty for more adventures.
I had always dreamt of being a chef. I had grown up devouring food shows on TV and always wanted to visit the Middle East. But, sadly, that was out of the question as it meant having to cycle through Pakistan and Afghanistan. Not only was this dangerous, my parents would have scuttled my plans even before I took off. I then decided to plan my ride to South East Asia instead, via the great Himalayas. That would kill two birds with one stone - not only would the ride take me through some of the most amazing places on Earth but I would also able to immerse myself in culinary adventures far removed from the Rajasthani food I was accustomed to.
My endeavour has already begun. I will be pedalling through nine countries of South East Asia – India, Nepal, Bhutan, Myanmar, Thailand, Laos, Cambodia, Vietnam, and Malaysia. My plan is to not just witness some breathtaking landscapes and scenery but to indulge in and learn about the famous foods and traditional tastes of every region on my route. I can't think of any better way to make my dream come true – I will be gratifying my soul by traversing through spectacular landscapes and also my taste buds by indulging in delicious foods.
It was hard to explain my decision to my parents to take a break before I joined college and ride on a bicycle for a year. It took me five months to satisfy their queries and convince them that my journey would be a learning process, so essential for a young man on the cusp of adulthood.
But now, after having planned my dream ride to the last detail, I hit another pothole: where would the money come from? I started to look for sponsors. I met many people from different companies for help. I used to hitchhike as I did not have enough money to buy tickets. And most of the time I thought people would loosen their purse strings to support a noble venture but, alas, I was politely declined. I would make my way back home with disappointment written all over my face.
Somehow, goodwill worked and I got some sponsors for my trip – but no cash. I decided to set out anyway and see how I could manage and make my way on the road. Next morning, I had a lovely breakfast prepared by mom with lots of love and blessings for my continental adventure. After all, how many kids are crazy enough to venture on a bicycle to unknown lands? Here I was, taking off into the wild blue yonder with an undefined destination or time. There was only a vague plan to see the world and learn to cook Nom hua chuoi or the banana-flower salad in Vietnam.
It helped me when some friends decided to ride along for the whole day; their camaraderie and good wishes gave me the strength to reach Delhi where I was surprised to see a big welcome planned for me. There were around 100 pedal pushers from the cycling community, who had assembled to cheer me on. There, my jersey pocket became unexpectedly heavy – someone had slipped in an envelope containing Rs 3,000 with a note that simply read: 'Happy Journey!' My eyes were filled with tears; I couldn’t even thank the well-wisher who dropped it in my pocket as I did not know who he/she was.
Next day, with my heart full of emotions, I left Delhi and reached Karnal toll by night. People would stop me and ask where I was heading. After a long conversation and delicious dinner with one of these strangers, I camped there and slept.
The next day I crossed Ambala, deciding to leave the highway and taking the back roads. The ride was more interesting than I expected. A lady stopped me and asked me to spend some time with her family – she was the wife of a mukhiya of a village. I was lucky to witness a gram panchayat meeting and taste some local delicacies she had prepared for me. On my way to Kullu, I met with an accident and lost the only jacket I was carrying with me. I reached Manali and called a friend to ask him to loan me his winter wear as I did not have enough money to buy a new jacket. I stayed at a backpackers’ hostel in a small village called Jagatshukh, where I met people from different countries. We all stayed up late to watch the starry night and have some fun. My breakfast was not what I was used to having back at home. But I relished some fresh apples from the trees nearby. I trekked to a waterfall and visited a village to learn how to cook some local dishes. Soon after, I left for the Spiti valley – an amazing part of the world!
I went on to Nepal and finished exploring that country too. Next, I left for Kolkata to arrange for a visa and permits for Myanmar. This will take time since I am short of funds. In the meantime, I have left my bike behind in Kolkata and am currently walking and hitchhiking in South India to learn more about the cuisine here.
If you would like to help Mohit achieve his dream, you can contribute to his trip here: http://www.ketto.org/munchingonsaddle
You can follow his journey here: https://www.facebook.com/muchingonsaddle
Among Damini’s many successes is an astonishing feat – this foot painter set a world record for the highest number of drawings (38) made with her toes in one hour, an achievement that earned her a place in the Golden Book of Records, 2015. “Painting is my hobby. I paint using my toes like any other person paints using his/her hands. I enjoy the process and want to practise it whenever I get the time,” she says.
Madhuri would learn every new thing she wanted to teach Damini using her toes and would then show her how. She pushed both herself and her daughter to excel. Soon, Damini was even drawing with sketch pens. Her parents noticed her interest in art when she started making small drawings and they encouraged her to take this interest forward.
Gradually, Damini learned how to paint by practising at home. What began as a hobby grew to become an integral part of who she is today. Currently, the BSc first year student is busy with her studies and painting is restricted to practise sessions over the weekends. She finished Class 10 and 12 from Maa Banjari Gurukul Vidyalaya in Raipur and is now doing her Bachelor's from DB Girls’ College.
Except for being provided a separate seat where she can sit and write comfortably, she gets no other special treatment at school. She wrote all her exams herself because she did not want to depend on anyone else. And of course, she passed with flying colours.
Looking ahead, this extraordinary young achiever wants to become an IAS officer and work for children with disabilities. “When I started writing with my toes I used to hesitate thinking that people would laugh. But then I decided to stop being concerned about other people. I thought: ‘God has given such a beautiful life. I should make something of it,’” she smilingly sums up the motto that gives her life meaning.
The Borderless World Foundation's home in Kupwara[/caption]
In a predominantly male dominated society, where women hardly step out to work, it would have been gruelling for Shazia’s mother to raise her daughter on her own.
Today, Shazia, 19, is in Maharashtra, studying homeopathy. Shazia is from the Anantnag district of Kashmir, which has been plagued with conflict for decades. But even as Shazia’s mother endured the volatile times of the 90s when militancy had erupted ominously, in a parallel world, a political science student in Pune was becoming intrigued by the prevailing hostility in the Valley. He would prove to be the difference between hope and despair for Shazia.
Born in a farmer’s family in Ahmadnagar, Adhik Kadam decided to visit Kashmir in the late 90s to gauge the situation first hand after interacting with his Kashmiri Pandit and Kashmiri Muslim friends in the university. It was supposed to be a 15-day trip. He ended up staying there for almost four months.
A young girl at the Kupwara home[/caption]
In a grossly patriarchal society burdened by unemployment, women palpably lead lives as second-class citizens. Therefore, a child who has lost his/her father is considered an orphan. If the widow remarries, the new family often shuns the children from the first marriage.
After experiencing the tumult in the Valley, Adhik thought it “was a sign for me to do something for the kids in Kashmir.”
Cut to November 2016. Adhik is in California, being felicitated for his work in Kashmir. However, the journey has been adventurous, intimidating but extremely gratifying, says Adhik, who eventually founded the Borderless World Foundation (BWF). He decided on the name after witnessing a wedding at a village located along the LOC, where the bride was Indian and the groom from Pakistan Occupied Kashmir.
After arriving at the decision to move to the Valley, Adhik had to zero down on the district where he would work. He chose Kupwara, the heavily forested located right along the LOC, where the skirmishes had left, and continue to leave, a significant number of kids in dire straits. With four girls, he opened his first ‘home’ there in 2002.
Adhik Kadam[/caption]
But Adhik was determined to go ahead. “An orphan girl in Kupwara inaugurated the home,” he says.
When Adhik was still exploring the right place for his home, he was picked up by the militants who mistook him for a spy. Militants would pick him up 19 times over the next 15 years, and each time he would return without a scratch. “It would not have been possible without the help of the locals,” says Adhik. “They helped me financially and ensured my security as well. Magnanimity is in abundance in Kashmir. Sadly, hardly anyone has taken the effort to experience it.”
Girls learning to operate the camera at the Kupwara home.[/caption]
Razia Malik, 16, says she has never been happier. She was admitted to the Kupwara home two years ago, and her grades have shown dramatic progress since she now has the stability she needed. “After my mother remarried, I would be sent from one relative to another,” she says. “I could not concentrate on my studies. I do not visit my mother’s new house though she regularly visits me at the home.”
Razia’s father too was a militant, and she knows that. “It angers me to be honest,” she says. “I do not have any memories of him, which troubles me the most. I am aware of the atrocities in Kashmir but violence is no answer.”
As word about BWF spread across the Valley, Adhik started receiving recommendations, volunteers and finances. Gradually, he expanded by opening similar homes in Anantnag, Beerwah and Jammu, where, as of now, BWF is looking after close to 200 girls in the four homes, all of whom have lost either both their parents or fathers due to conflict.
The homes are equipped with computers[/caption]
Ten of them in Kupwara now run a business centre next to the home, where they make sanitary napkins, embroidered cloth, fabric paintings, etc. It is the only women’s business centre in the entire Kashmir region.
However, Adhik says he incurs an expenditure of around Rs. 80 lakh per year to run the four homes and pay for the studies of the girls outside Kashmir. “Most of my donations come from Maharashtra,” he says. “I have solicited some from abroad as well. We manage somehow.”
But why only girls? “It is exponentially more difficult for girls growing up in a patriarchal society,” says Adhik. “There are people in Kashmir working for the betterment of boys, but nobody is willing to take on the responsibility of girls due to security concerns.”
However, his success story in the heart of conflict, has not been appreciated by those with vested interests. About four years ago, Syed Ali Shah Geelani, in his newsletter, accused Adhik of doing religious conversions and selling Kashmiri girls in the rest of India.
How did Adhik counter an allegation so grave, and that too from a man as popular as Geelani? “I did not,” says Adhik. “I continued to work. Geelani is remarkably influential in the Valley, yet not a single person attacked me or questioned me after his accusations. That was a statement in itself.”
Adhik is not politically savvy. His opinions are often naïve and romantic. He only knows the language of compassion, which, he believes, has the power to transform anything. In 2006, he said a Hizbul militant walked into one of his homes with two of his colleagues and started inspecting the facilities and making inquiries. “I had no idea he was a militant but my staff knew,” he says. “They got anxious as the three of them barged in.”
However, the militants left very shortly.
“His daughter is 11 today,” says Adhik. “She is very happy at the home.”
Apart from the girls in Kashmir, 8-10 girls from BWF are now in other parts of India, pursuing higher education. One of them is Shazia. In spite of all the risks, Adhik is staunchly standing behind her, which makes him her “pillar of strength”. She says, “I have been at the Anantnag home since 2007. It does not feel like home. It is home.”
A teacher with the girls in the BWF home[/caption]
Adhik is aware the quagmire of Kashmir is too complicated to be solved by adopting 200 orphan girls. “But these girls would one day go on to raise kids,” he says. “Their kids would get the upbringing most in Kashmir do not get today. That is how a society is transformed. It is a slow process but it has to start somewhere.”
When asked what they want to do in the future, Razia and Shazia both say they intend to help the people of Kashmir like ‘Adhik Bhaiyya.’ “I am one of the fortunate ones to be living the life I am,” says Shazia. “I want to go back and make sure many more kids in Kashmir get the opportunities I did.”
Adhik Kadam can be reached at 
He was there this Diwali. He was there on Holi, on Republic Day, and on every other day that the Government of India deemed a gazetted holiday. He was there because there were shoes to be repaired, sandals to be mended, and bags whose zips had given up. There was also some money to be made. They are meagre, the earnings of a city cobbler. A ten here, a twenty there. “On a good day I can mend up to 200 shoes,” he says. He takes home around Rs. 15,000 a month.
Dinesh is at his spot by 9 am every morning. He takes few breaks, mostly to drink water or to chat with a friendly customer. Even as he talks, he remains hunched over his work station, muttering responses, his eyes fixed on the shoe in his hands. His fingers, whatever is left of them, busily weave through the tough fabric of a branded shoe. He doesn’t take lunch. Once he gets behind his last, the inverted foot-shaped instrument that is the centre of a shoe mender’s work, he rarely moves.
After the day is over around 9 pm, he gathers his tools, the shoes, and the raw materials for the shoes into a large white plastic gunny bag, throws it over his shoulder and begins the half-hour walk to his home in a nearby neighbourhood. When the load is too heavy, he says, he gives in to the exhaustion and hires a rickshaw. But a ride costs 50 rupees. It is 50 rupees he cannot afford. So he avoids the rickshaws and walks. “I cannot spend 100 rupees just on travel,” he says. If the earnings of the day are not enough, the 100 rupees he saved by walking would help him buy milk. A one-litre packet of full cream milk costs Rs. 49 in Delhi. The milk is not for him; in his house, only the children are granted this luxury.
His greatest joy is to come home and be handed a glass of water by one of his children. His 20-year-old son is already married and works as a driver at a nearby hospital. His middle son, 16, and 2-year-old daughter and wife live with him. The cobbler’s life revolves around his children. So it is with some hurt that he recalls their reaction to the news of his operation.
His wife was inconsolable, and his sons kept asking what had happened to his hands.
He tries not to dwell too much on the past and on the adversities he has faced. From his corner in the city he has seen enough misfortune strike others. He recalls the day a Maruti car was thrown up into the air in an accident that wiped out half of a family. He has been sought by policemen, sometimes for bribes and at other times to help them solve daylight robberies. Those are uncommon, but on a daily basis his job also involves giving directions to umpteen lost souls in this maze of high rises. He keeps up with his regular customers. He can tell you who has moved, whose son is getting married, who has a new job. He can also tell you who planted the four majestic trees that guard his spot and provide him and countless others fleeting moments of relief on hot sunny days. The trees are the fruits of his own labour and foresight.
He points to another tree he planted recently in the empty plot behind him, a young tamarind tree jostling for space with weeds and litter. The tamarind is a slow-growing tree; it can grow up to 18 meters. Dinesh plans to be around to see it rise to its full glory. It will probably outlive him; these trees can survive hundreds of years if no government agency or greedy developer interferes. It will continue to provide shade, even to people who never notice and would never know that a fingerless cobbler was the one to plant the seed.
If you wish to help Dinesh in any way please write to 
For the common man to have this power in his hands is uncommon, but extremely productive for his locality as a whole. How many times otherwise would garbage, electricity, water, pot holes, lack of transport, and many other problems that concern our daily lives receive the purview of and solution by the local politician or corporator? It’s little wonder that despite living amidst problems such as these on an everyday basis, and being greatly inconvenienced by them, the common man would rather live with them than chase after the officials who will help resolve the issues. If a complaint is raised, it is almost impossible to follow up with the concerned governing bodies.
NetaG’s wide acceptance is because it saves them footwork and effort but gets them a solution from the relevant people. Local politicians and leaders are also realising that NetaG is a powerful tool to help them connect with their supporters. Once the public issue is resolved, the app allows the case to be closed from either end.
Irrespective of the problem, all it takes is one complaint from anybody using the app. The councilor or local politician in-charge then takes it upon himself/herself to resolve the issue. The instantaneous, hassle-free, and anonymous system has met with a success rate of 95% for problem resolution.
The app’s UI is simple but smart, with an option to include a photograph and description of your issue. Everyone can view and reference the sourced GPS location and tabulated issue. However, the app does not take or maintain any personal data about the complainant. The complainant marks the issue as resolved on the app after resolution.
NetaG has ascended the popularity charts as an app that actually does the job. For example, a local politician recently conducted a children’s sports event. There, people raised the issue of increasing dengue and mosquito menace in the locality through the app. The concerned officials immediately cleaned up a huge community tank the very next day, under orders from the politician. Authorities have rectified multiple cases of electricity outages within hours of a registered complaint. Having the complaint on a transparent platform makes the leaders work towards a solution. It also helps the leaders gain respect and support from the people around him/her.
With local elections just around the corner, the platform has major plans, including new ways to raise seed capital.
To know more about the app and try it yourself, visit the 
Gauri Shinde's recently released film, Dear Zindagi[/caption]
Jab We Met[/caption]
Zindagi Na Milegi Dobara[/caption]
Queen[/caption]
3 Idiots[/caption]
Anand[/caption]
Credit: PositiveSaathi.com
Today, the free service, which has around 5000 registered members, is a source of satisfaction and pride for Anil. The initiative has facilitated hundreds of marriages between people who are HIV+. “It is really a big problem to find a partner,” Anil says of people who are HIV+, speaking with The Better India on the occasion of World AIDs Day. “They have a right to live like ordinary people and have kids; they are a part of society, just a neglected part of society.”
Being diagnosed HIV+ is itself not a death sentence; people who are HIV+ are infected with the Human Immunodeficiency Virus, which can progressively destroy the immune system and give rise to the condition known as AIDs. There were around 2.1 million people living with AIDs in India in 2013. There is no vaccine for AIDs, the disease is incurable and treatment is costly. Not everybody who has AIDs in India is correctly diagnosed or receives the proper treatment.
Some sections of society are at high risk for contracting the disease. Truck drivers are one such group because they tend to have multiple sexual partners, being out on the road for much of the time. For the past ten years, Anil, as an RTO officer, has been conducting workshops for truck drivers on road safety. A reporter suggested that he also consider spreading awareness about HIV at these camps. Anil was very disturbed to learn that some HIV+ men, when unable to find HIV+ women to marry, eventually give up and wed healthy girls without revealing their HIV+ status, ruining the lives of the girls in the process.
AIDS destroys lives in more ways than one. Anil’s friend died craving for the love and comfort of a family, imploring him to help him find a partner. "I cannot forget the longing in his eyes for a family and children,” Anil 
Credit: PositiveSaathi.com
Credit: PositiveSaathi.com
“Years and years passed with us feeling completely helpless,” says Poonam, her mother. “It broke our hearts to see our little girl struggling. We didn’t know where to turn, and the money always ran out quicker than we could make it. We had all but given up hope when Riya came to visit.”
Riya is an outreach officer with the Plan India supported Muskan (smile) programme, implemented in partnership with Anchal Charitable Trust. Dedicated to improving the lives of children with special needs, Riya and the team began by conducting surveys in various localities of Delhi.
Since then, the team has reached out to over 1,200 children with special needs through six resource, rehabilitation, and information centres across the city. They provide a host of services, including family counselling, specialised treatment and physical therapy, educational support, home modifications, and other government-issue social entitlements.
On their first visit to the centre, both Poonam and Anmol underwent counselling, and the latter was fitted for a custom wheelchair and orthotics (metal braces and shoes). She was enrolled in occupational therapy to increase her mobility and reduce her pain. The Muskan team installed aids and appliances in their home for added convenience.
With patience and determination, Anmol began to sit unassisted, brush her teeth, feed herself, and study basic education courses. The organisation trained Poonam to provide necessary care and support to ensure her treatment continued smoothly.
Today, the love and support have completely transformed Anmol. Beaming, she manages the family store, and has tripled their customer base. Even so, she takes time out to visit the centre, continue her therapy, and encourage her friends there.
As for Poonam, she is now a lead community volunteer for Muskan and manages ten children with special needs.
Inspired by the changes she has seen in Anmol, Poonam conducts therapy with the children, counsels families, and advocates with communities and local leaders for their rights.
“I ensure the children know they are not alone. That together, we can overcome every hurdle, no matter how daunting. That they have a future all their own,” says Poonam.
“Every child deserves to be healthy and happy,” adds Anmol. “With the children, our families, and Muskan, we forge ahead every day.”
This International Day of Persons with Disabilities, join us in celebrating Anmol, Poonam, Riya, and other such inspiring heroes the world over. Champions with indomitable spirit, they are changing the world, one step at a time.
To learn more about Plan India and their work, kindly visit their project page 
Shivaraju BS, also knows as 'Cop Shiva'[/caption]
Since Shivaraju had no training in photography, 1shanthiroad also served a space for informal instruction. His interactions with various photographers, especially with Suresh Jayram who displayed his work in this gallery, helped Shivaraju learn more about the technical aspects of taking photographs. Cop Shiva’s impressive Instagram feed features stunning portraits of people he meets everyday on his beat.
His first professional project, Being Gandhi, reflects this interest in documenting the lives of unsung heroes.
Bagadehalli Basavaraj, a 46-year-old man who is the subject of this series, lives in a small village called Chikmagalur in Karnataka. Chikmagalur is one of the two places in India where there is a temple dedicated to Mahatma Gandhi. Basavaraj has been working as a teacher in various local schools for the past 29 years. He was born into an impoverished family and had to struggle to educate himself. This made him understand, early in life, the importance and value of giving to people less fortunate than himself. Bagadehalli Basavaraj looks to Gandhi for inspiration and has been spreading the message of service to humanity through the performing arts for the past 14 years.
Was it the first time that his work was displayed at an international venue? He says, “ My work has been exhibited in several national and international galleries and exhibitions. And it has been part of several group exhibitions not only in India but also in countries like the US, UK, Spain, Switzerland, Bangladesh, Sri Lanka, and Germany. I am very happy my work has been seen in so many places.”
Shivaraju says 2017 is going to be “an intense and fruitful” year for him. He has been invited by the Swedish Arts Council for a three-month residential programme to work with the local art community in the country.
Does he have any advice for upcoming artists in the country? Shivaraju says, “Being an artist is a very personal experience, believing in yourself and finding your own voice is a complex and painful journey. Once you decide to take your work seriously, everything falls into place, and of course all your life experiences and skills help you to deal with the subject.”
2. H.E. José Ramos-Horta, as the President of East Timor, launched a project that provided housing for the poor. Having only limited budget, he went to the poorest of the neighbourhoods and spoke to the residents directly. He asked them not only to choose the families that they thought deserved these homes the most but also to find the land on which the houses would be built on.
3. Given the highly sensitive nature of his work, Kailash Satyarthi has faced immense resistance from the syndicates that benefit from child labour and has even been physically assaulted a number of times resulting in broken bones and other serious injuries.
4. H.E. José Ramos-Horta believes that while he may not be able to help everybody, he will do what he can to help at least one person. He recounts an incident several years ago when he tracked down an impoverished girl living in Afghanistan after watching her interview on BBC.
5. Kailash Sathyarthi notes that the key to addressing economic exclusion lies in education and the biggest impediment to this is child labour. He reasons that illiterate people will remain poor and the poor people will remain illiterate.
Watch the discussion here:
Smriti Mandhana[/caption]
Smriti Mandhana[/caption]
Smriti Mandhana[/caption]
Smriti Mandhana[/caption]
The Indian Women's Team after winning the T20 series against Australia[/caption]
His family warned him not to divulge any details about his visit because his hometown was simply too violent and dangerous.
But there's one detail he talks about now that changed his life – a trip to Vaishali, long considered the birthplace of democracy and peace and nonviolence movements. Buddha, who preached compassion, love, and wisdom, also built a monastery there.
It was a fairly regular day for Mahajan, a sales head for a beauty and cosmetics company. He was just done with his trip home to Chandigarh. Bags packed for his work abode of Bangalore, he booked an Ola cab to take him to the airport for his flight back. The driver, Lakhvinder Singh, was on his way to pick him up.
When Mahajan entered the car, Singh was busy on a phone call in the middle of what sounded like a heated argument. As Mahajan waited patiently, Singh hung up and apologised, saying it was a call from the bank. Nothing out of the ordinary, right? And then came the kicker: “Sir, please help me sell my kidney,” Singh said.
Mahajan was taken aback – “What are you saying? It’s illegal. You’re young, it is going to hurt your body.”
"Sir, if my body cannot help me or my family, what will I do with it?" came Singh’s reply.
Just months ago, he owned a car, financed through a local financier, and had almost paid off his debt. By this time he was working about 18 hours a day, saving close to Rs. 30,000 per month driving for Ola. However, a family dispute resulted in him selling his car to keep the land on which his house stood.
Now, he drives a car for someone else and gets paid Rs. 40 per trip. His son, who was studying in a good school, had to be shifted to a local government school. And it was the financiers on the phone asking him about an EMI that he was yet to pay. He was now desperate to do anything to keep his family afloat at a time of crisis.
“We have a lot of discussions about why India is like this -- idealistic conversations over wine that usually end there.” And Mahajan had had the same conversation the night before and was itching to do something about it.
“I believe that if there is a problem that money can solve, then why not solve it?” Mahajan says.
He wants to get his family’s life back on track and see his dream of his son getting into the army fulfilled.
A 16-minute short version of the film was cut for screening at the World Down Syndrome Congress (2012), South Africa. The film helped India win the bid to host the next Congress in 2015. Critically, it won numerous awards, and screened across the world at various festivals. These included the Picture This Film Festival, DocuWest Film Festival, Texas Thin Line Film Festival, and Delhi Shorts Film Festival. The film was the #1 Non-Profit and Activism video on YouTube in India in August, 2012. It inspired hundreds of students around the country to volunteer vacation time at Down Syndrome Centres.
The film’s full version – a feature documentary – premiered at the 8th Seattle South Asian Film Festival (‘Tasveer’) in October 2013. It was also part of the Official Selection at the International Documentary Film Festival of Kerala, 2014. At the DocWeek film festival in Adelaide, Australia (2014), Pavitra Chalam, the film’s director, received the Asia-Pacific Award for Outstanding New Documentary Talent.
India End 15-Year Wait, Defeat Belgium For 2nd Junior Hockey World Cup Title[/caption]
Harjeet Singh[/caption]
Harjeet's father, Rampal Singh, is a truck driver[/caption]
Harjeet Singh in action[/caption]
Harjeet Singh with the Asia Cup 2015 trophy[/caption]
Harjeet Singh with fellow hockey player, Harmanpreet Singh (left)[/caption]