There are a lot of
things that are wrong about me – but if there is one thing that irks me the most,
it is my apparent apathy towards contributing to social causes.
I am not sure if my
South Indian roots had anything to do with it, but I remember always being
warned to think twice before indulging in, quote unquote, “helping people”.
This cynical attitude towards altruism was drilled deep into me from a very
young age, lest I be conned into doing something I regret later (the fact that Indians
are among the most uncertainty-avoiding people on the Hofstede Index lends
credence to my earlier suspicion).
It is said that a
weakness can only last as long as you let it – and I was determined to correct
this enervating character flaw of mine. Hence, when I was presented with an
opportunity to visit an NGO in the region to observe how they “make the magic
happen”, I jumped at the chance.
The NGO, called ‘Goonj’,
was a 14 year old institution based in Delhi/NCR that had pioneered the notion
of providing clothes for the needy as a means of remuneration. They had a track
record for producing and completing a string of rural projects across the country
with the help of their flagship program ‘Clothes for Work’, under whose aegis
they enabled the local populace to productively employ their time in building something of use (be it a makeshift hut, a small school or even a 240-metre
long footbridge) for the inhabitant population. In return, Goonj provided the
workers with pieces of custom-fitted second-hand articles of clothing.
When I visited their
local sorting centre in South Delhi, I was immediately struck by its abject
surroundings – cramped, congested and crawling with donated clothes, utensils and other
discarded refuse, the place resembled a battlefield sans the arsenal. Yet, as I
listened to what our tour guide had to say on their work processes, I realized
that there was a method to their madness.
Donated articles, be
it clothes, books or otherwise, were meticulously sorted and classified
according to their degree of degradation. All sorted items were then packed
into coded gunny bags with military precision, bound for the regions that needed
them. At Goonj, local requirements at villages that fall under their support
programs are determined and analysed before being serviced – they do not do
charity for charity’s sake.
The level of product
innovation on display at the local factory site was fascinating – bags made out
of used car-seats; old, worn-out jeans converted into snazzy handbags; used
paper re-cycled to become entirely new drawing books for children and even audio-cassette
reels of yore re-cast as pen-stands. The place was a little fantasy island that
produced the most endearing allures from the smallest, most ordinary of items.
More than anything else,
the thing that struck me the most from visiting Goonj was the people – they all
seemed so happy, but in a simple, non-invasive sort of way. Right from our tour
guide who greeted each of our myriad queries with cheery enthusiasm to the
phalanx of workers that were employed at the sorting center making it run
like clockwork, there was not a long face to be seen anywhere in the premises.
And therein, I realized what a monumental mistake I had made all this while.
True satisfaction comes
not from knowing if that donation you made to that charity last week was ‘worthwhile’;
or if all the precious old clothes that you took the pain of ‘donating’ reached
the right hands – it comes from the knowledge that you are doing what you can
to give back to society.
Eliminate the cynic
in you – and open the doors to real happiness.
