PICTURE SPEAK

THE NATIVE RETURNS: Singh with his students

In the opening lines of Charles Dickens' David Copperfield, the eponymous hero wonders whether he would turn out to be the hero of his own life. It is a question every individual must ask himself. Sam Singh, 65, did. After flipping through the script of his life, he reinvented it. He threw the lid on a cushy suburban existence in the United States and moved home to Bulandshahar after 35 years. "It was time for my second act," says Singh.

Employing the metaphoric relevance of ancestral wisdom in today's context, Singh set up the Pardada Pardadi Educational Society in 2000 for girls from underprivileged families through personal savings and donations. By borrowing its vision "from the teachings of our forefathers" the school smartly tackles issues such as gender bias. Believing that schooling must never interfere with education, the students here are given skill-based education that they can cash in on later in life. "We teach the girls to create, produce and market home furnishings using appliqué, zardosi, quilting and block printing," says Singh. However, what makes this school different is that it pays students Rs 10 a day to attend classes. "Money is the only incentive for education. We cater to the extremely low strata of society," explains Singh while admonishing a student whose parents have removed her sibling from the school. Students can withdraw the money they have earned after they finish Class X. They are given books, clothes, food, bicycles and even medical treatment. Cautious about a depending child becoming a demanding one, Singh draws the line somewhere. He puts a student under observation to know whether she is keen on learning. The money is then transferred directly into a joint account that is created for the mother and the daughter. "This ensures that parents have a stake in the account to solve dowry issues," he says.

The ride so far has had its share of bumps but Singh is industrious. He has proved that anything is possible. Four years ago the dropout rate stood at 32 per cent. Today, it has gone down to 5 per cent and he has 340 students. "I am aiming for 5,000 students in four years," he says.

As he clutches on to a dog-eared copy of V.S. Naipaul's Magic Seeds, the book's title ironically describes what Singh is doing. He is, after all, sowing the seeds for what may grow into magical dividends.

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