Memories of Kadaba

When it comes to me being a less social person, I’ve always been told that volunteering isn’t something I’m meant to do. It involves a lot of interaction, I wouldn’t lie, but I’ve been in my comfort zone for a long time in life, I believed I couldn’t be a good volunteer because of this very reason. In June, when I first heard of the school in Kadaba and was asked if I wanted to volunteer, I didn’t fret and agreed immediately. Now, this wasn’t just because I loved the idea of volunteering and how it gives a purpose to people like me but also because I was told that I’m gonna paint a wall. Something I hadn’t done before; not once in my life.

Meeting Thara was life-changing, his stories never end, and if you’re a listener more than a speaker, it gets better. You’d never want to interrupt him because you love listening and you can’t stop. It’s infectious, his stories and what he does. At one point, you’ve reached the zenith of inspiration that you want to leave everything you’re doing and follow him through his journey.


















Kadaba, a small countryside on the outskirts of Bangalore, is the kind of place that anyone who lived the city life, would want to experience. I loved every part of it. People of the village, Raghu’s little tea stall, Ismail and his hospitality, the children who would run to you just to ask your name for the tenth time, Veena’s farmhouse (a lovely place), and of course the quaint little school.

When I first went there, I hadn’t known how old it was or what condition it was in. As old as the 1930s, the school was almost in ruins until 5 months before its renovation began. Most villagers who are now masons, artists, and carpenters had studied there. When Ismail’s brother pointed out to a class and told me that was his 3rd-grade class, I felt the nostalgia he went through at that moment. They are quite proud of it, not just because their school is being renovated but also because they are part of this venture. It gets carried on, from one person to another, which is what brought me there at first.

Now, coming to what I did there. This isn’t just an account of my experience at Kadaba, but also a thank-you note to Thara for trusting me on that wall. The conversations were more from the heart than through words. He looked down at his phone, showed me a picture, looked back at the wall, and said he wanted this there and I never looked back. I’ve never in my entire life painted a wall, and this seemed like a huge responsibility. But, when this man, who’s never met me, who doesn’t know about me, entrusted me with a huge task that I have never tried doing; I felt the urge to do it. Not that I was entirely confident, but because I wanted to overcome my fear. As the wall slowly progressed, so did my confidence.

a little blurred, but still a happy picture :)

Although I’ve hated being watched while I am doing something, the presence of kids around me and them asking my name I don’t know how many times, gave me the perseverance. I loved working on it and the other walls too. Panda was my favorite because it’s my spirit animal.

The night before the school’s inauguration was one of the best nights in the farmhouse. Although I was constantly being reminded of how my silence killed each one of them, I enjoyed merely listening to their conversation, occasionally nodding my head and giving a wide smile. In between those conversations, we had finished most of the work for the big day.

One morning at Veena's beautiful farmhouse

It was amazing to hear that a lot of people had held hands together in bringing up the school to what it is now. From those who worked on the roofs to those who scraped the floors. Oh, and how could I forget, the saplings we planted last time had already begun to sprout in the garden. The school is an amalgamation of everyone’s love and endurance, and also the willingness to take up something and own it.

trying to act all candid - Abi

(This paragraph was included after I wrote the entire blog so it might seem out of track.)
It's just an appreciation letter to my friend here who brought me to Thara. I'm happy how a pondy trip brought us together as good friends. You're a good soul :)

My part here, although a little, felt huge only when I realized that the children there would see this wall every time they walk in. They’d learn their lessons, and the echo of them reciting letters and words from textbooks would mingle within these walls of the school. These walls on which I had inscribed a part of me. Like they say, every time you put a relentless effort into something and do it with love, you leave a part of yourself there.

These wonderful people :)

I’m so grateful that I met the man behind this magic, Thara, and also the other beautiful people who’ve played a vital role in turning this ramshackle into a space of knowledge. Every one of your efforts has put the blocks together into one, and the outcome is beautiful as you can see. 
When Veena asked the kids those two questions, their answer in unison was powerful and it still lingers on my mind
Whose is this school? Ours!
Who needs to take care of it? We should!
And I’m sure they will.

Happy Hands = Happy Heart