Utshaa Basu, Grade 11
UWC Mahindra
In our Triveni (a CAS club specific to UWC), we meet biweekly, with intellectually challenged adults being taken care of under the Sadhana organization, called the 'Sadhana Friends,' and together, we have a fun time.
When starting off, I found myself pondering the significance of our twice-a-month meetings— how were we helping the Friends, anyway? How could we make their lives better? Sadhana Friends brought me to a timely lesson: we already were, but not in the way I wanted us to be. It was too easy to ignore the work of the already reliable organization MUWCI is working with, and Sadhana already takes care of the Friends and considers their every need— they visit a psychiatrist regularly, and have a whole staff helping with the Friends' every need. Little things do matter- that is what this Triveni taught me: we get to make the Friends happy for two hours every two weeks, let them anticipate our next arrival, then rinse and repeat. It's not just them; Sadhana Friends is a breath of fresh air after a day of classes; The Friends are always overjoyed to see us, their excitement a lively, tangible thing; their habits and preferences something I find myself glad to tune into. You learn other things too, like how happy contact makes the Friends; not a session has gone by without my hands clasped with Suraj Ji's, or Mama hugging me upon arrival. I know Suraj Ji best - how his hands shake, especially when he's trying to make a point, how he smiles with his teeth when he's extra-happy. I understand his speech often, and when someone translates that he's asking for a car— to go back home, there's a twinge of hurt. I've learnt, I know that what we do isn't insignificant, yet I'm bowled over by my need to want to do something more for them.
Driven by this need, I decided to work with Sadhana Friends for my local project week. The goal? To learn more about how the Sadhana organization works and make them a leaflet and promotional film. This meant four days straight morning till evening spent with the Friends, divided between documenting and immersing ourselves in the Friends' daily routine, as well as interviewing the staff and volunteers under the organization.
It was a strange experience, zooming out and seeing the Friends' lives outside out of our designated four hours a month. We learnt about the depth of their schedule; all the activities they do during their day: making paper bags and jewellery and even candles— walking in a circle around a table as they routinely dip their strings into the orange wax- their drying candles swaying on a line against a star-speckled backdrop.
It had me convinced that the sort of activities we usually did with them - colouring pages and playing with dough - was beneath their level of complexity and that we could dare to involve them in harder crafts. We brought along our usual songs, but this time with the addition of a guitar- a welcome addition, we realised, watching Urmila Tai enthusiastically strum on its strings. The Friends sang too; more than half of them, the voices of the older women were especially lovely; and there was a real feeling of community in the way they nudged at and encouraged each other during the performances. Talking to the staff felt foreign, yet there was a sense of connection when they talked about how gratifying it is to work with the Friends- "they make us feel really great, and they're so innocent— anything bad disappears when we're tending to them", one of the staff members admitted.
The Friends, especially the veterans, love listening to MUWCI students talk about their home countries, their traditions, how it's different over there. There's a group of Friends that loves meeting internationals, and that group sits around the lucky student in a corner, eagerly interrogating them about their world. At the same time, the Friends meet Christmas and Valentines with a blank stare, but perk up during Diwali, and none of our Western rhymes hit the same way as when we play old Indian songs— it's met with a collective sort of enthusiasm that is contagious; there's a sense of startling familiarity when Friends who barely open their mouth sing along to the long winding lyrics of some vintage Bollywood number.
It's moments like these, where I really feel we come together. In the beginning, some members of the club found themselves concerned by the language barriers that may arise from being an international student. But there are a hundred different ways to communicate with the Friends- through touch, excitement, enjoyment— because it's all about those little things we do with them, whether a song or dipping strings in acrylic paint, throwing a balloon around— those moments remind me why it's so good to be a part of Sadhana Friends.
When starting off, I found myself pondering the significance of our twice-a-month meetings— how were we helping the Friends, anyway? How could we make their lives better? Sadhana Friends brought me to a timely lesson: we already were, but not in the way I wanted us to be. It was too easy to ignore the work of the already reliable organization MUWCI is working with, and Sadhana already takes care of the Friends and considers their every need— they visit a psychiatrist regularly, and have a whole staff helping with the Friends' every need. Little things do matter- that is what this Triveni taught me: we get to make the Friends happy for two hours every two weeks, let them anticipate our next arrival, then rinse and repeat. It's not just them; Sadhana Friends is a breath of fresh air after a day of classes; The Friends are always overjoyed to see us, their excitement a lively, tangible thing; their habits and preferences something I find myself glad to tune into. You learn other things too, like how happy contact makes the Friends; not a session has gone by without my hands clasped with Suraj Ji's, or Mama hugging me upon arrival. I know Suraj Ji best - how his hands shake, especially when he's trying to make a point, how he smiles with his teeth when he's extra-happy. I understand his speech often, and when someone translates that he's asking for a car— to go back home, there's a twinge of hurt. I've learnt, I know that what we do isn't insignificant, yet I'm bowled over by my need to want to do something more for them.
Driven by this need, I decided to work with Sadhana Friends for my local project week. The goal? To learn more about how the Sadhana organization works and make them a leaflet and promotional film. This meant four days straight morning till evening spent with the Friends, divided between documenting and immersing ourselves in the Friends' daily routine, as well as interviewing the staff and volunteers under the organization.
It was a strange experience, zooming out and seeing the Friends' lives outside out of our designated four hours a month. We learnt about the depth of their schedule; all the activities they do during their day: making paper bags and jewellery and even candles— walking in a circle around a table as they routinely dip their strings into the orange wax- their drying candles swaying on a line against a star-speckled backdrop.
It had me convinced that the sort of activities we usually did with them - colouring pages and playing with dough - was beneath their level of complexity and that we could dare to involve them in harder crafts. We brought along our usual songs, but this time with the addition of a guitar- a welcome addition, we realised, watching Urmila Tai enthusiastically strum on its strings. The Friends sang too; more than half of them, the voices of the older women were especially lovely; and there was a real feeling of community in the way they nudged at and encouraged each other during the performances. Talking to the staff felt foreign, yet there was a sense of connection when they talked about how gratifying it is to work with the Friends- "they make us feel really great, and they're so innocent— anything bad disappears when we're tending to them", one of the staff members admitted.
The Friends, especially the veterans, love listening to MUWCI students talk about their home countries, their traditions, how it's different over there. There's a group of Friends that loves meeting internationals, and that group sits around the lucky student in a corner, eagerly interrogating them about their world. At the same time, the Friends meet Christmas and Valentines with a blank stare, but perk up during Diwali, and none of our Western rhymes hit the same way as when we play old Indian songs— it's met with a collective sort of enthusiasm that is contagious; there's a sense of startling familiarity when Friends who barely open their mouth sing along to the long winding lyrics of some vintage Bollywood number.
It's moments like these, where I really feel we come together. In the beginning, some members of the club found themselves concerned by the language barriers that may arise from being an international student. But there are a hundred different ways to communicate with the Friends- through touch, excitement, enjoyment— because it's all about those little things we do with them, whether a song or dipping strings in acrylic paint, throwing a balloon around— those moments remind me why it's so good to be a part of Sadhana Friends.
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