Books

This is in answer to queries from friends and readers about my novels. Of late, they are mostly unavailable in bookshops. This is a pity because all of them are in print and continue to sell. My publisher tells me that ever since the recession, bookshops have become wary of storing books that are not ‘red hot’ best-sellers. Many bookshops around the country are closing down and this is not due to decreasing readership but because on-line purchase has become easy and popular. My books are available on several sites. I’ve seen them on
www.penguinbooksindia.com
www.flipkart.com
www.amazon.com
It is cheaper to get them online sometimes. If you can ask your bookshop to get it for you, they often do.

 

The Children

 

 

I get a lot of queries about the Learning Centre and Libraries that we run – we meaning a group of friends who like doing this sort of thing. Some of us have been doing it in a small way for a long time. In 2006, we decided to form a Trust and get more systemmatic.

 

The Nalanda Learning Centre and Library Project (also called Nalanda Trust) started with the first centre here in Lonavla. Now we have eight centres in different parts of India and requests for more.

Education is indispensable in today's world. Unfortunately, it does not reach the children who desperately need it. This is mainly due to the unimaginative policies of governments, the ignorance of illiterate parents and the selfishness of  a society that does not care to think about the less fortunate.

 

Knowledge is wealth and power; knowledge is also the beginning of awareness, wisdom and sensitivity towards others. Widespread knowledge and true awareness that comes with it is the only way we can hope to save the world.

 

Basic education, like health, is the right of every individual.

 

 

How do we do what we do?

 

We believe that any average citizen can make a difference to the future of hundreds of children by providing an opportunity for learning.

Teaching the use of computers, English and vernacular speaking and reading skills, adult literacy, craft and vocational guidance are all part of the objectives of the Trust. Nalanda Trust now runs eight centres in different parts of India (Lonavla in Maharashtra, Hyderabad, Vrindaban in UP and Madras). In Hyderabad and Madras it reaches out to hundreds of children in the slums. In both places, we have tied up with other voluntary groups to achieve our goal. In Vrindaban, a library that has been set up in a school caters to 900 children. In Lonavla there is a learning centre and three libraries.

Each of our centres is supervised by our group and kept small and meaningful; every rupee spent goes towards benefitting some child. Nalanda Trust is a registered charity. Administrative costs are kept to the absolute minimum because of volunteers who give their time and experience for free. We plan to always keep the overheads to a minimum. We also recycle library books by transferring used books from one centre to another.

A total of 2500 children are currently being helped by Nalanda Trust.

Funds. We rely on friends and well-wishers who contribute in any modest way they can. They, and the children who attend our centres are our inspiration.

 

 

 

Aunty, Uncle or --

 

The other day, the daughter of a school friend asked if she could call me Kavery and not Aunty.

Wow! That's a change and I was thrilled. I'm called Aunty by all sorts of people – nurses, sales reps, shop assistants, beggars, house-helps, patients and of course my genuine nieces and nephews. It's really not just my vanity that makes me wince when a vegetable vendor tries to charm me into buying an extra bunch of palak with, "Lelo na Aunty, taaza hai." I just hate being Auntified. I put up a tough fight and resist being herded into this amorphous group which makes me feel like someone who leads a boring life and insists on offering unsolicited advice.

 

My worst (or should it be the best?) Aunty Moment came a few months after we came to Lonavla. Here, most of my patients are construction labour and they often turn up at home when it is an emergency. One night, someone rattled the front door and asked for 'Doctor Saab'. I let the portly, middle-aged woman and her two children come in. The kind woman addressed me as Auntyji, and I quickly told her not to. Moments later she addressed me as Uncle. No, no I said, I'm not Uncle. I'm a doctor. When I had dressed her daughter's leg wound, given her an injection and some medicines, they got up to leave.

 

"When should I bring her again….Mummy?" the lady asked, innocently.

 

Mummified!

 

I could clearly hear my husband chuckling upstairs.