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It was a usual Monday morning. All my body parts screamed — "I don't want to leave bed energy." You know how Monday feels, yeah, just awful. Still, I got up, got ready and was just heading to leave home. And suddenly it started raining — all universe symptoms telling it's Monday. I was already prepared for unsettled hair, partially wet clothes and transport problems.

At 9 am, I reached Pehchaan The Street School, making myself comfortable from the rain and drying my hair and putting my umbrella for drying. After a little while, I started noticing. I was observing students coming to Pehchaan The Street School, marching in line, holding their slates in their hands and hopes in their eyes. They all sat under the neem tree on the green carpet.

Roads were wet, rain stopped. The air was breezy and cold. The Soil was smelling like heaven. Water droplets were slowly sliding from the leaves. Everything was cool and calm.

Suddenly, a boy came close to me, an 8-year-old boy, Mannu with uncombed hair and a t-shirt probably double his size. His eyes were curious and he carried a smile of optimism.

I asked him, "Doesn't your feet hurt walking shoeless the whole day?" He looked straight into my eyes and smiled, "How would I know how it feels to wear shoes when I never had one?" His tone was not pity or sorrow, but wholesome and satisfied.

Then he later continued his peculiar habit of counting birds in the sky.

And I randomly asked, "How many this time?" — and again he replied with his positive gesture, "They are uncountable, just like my dreams."

I loved his passion. Also, he was very serious about his studies and art. He loved drawing and sketching. For him, studying was not a routine or task that needs to be completed anyhow . He was very patient and keen. He took study as his responsibility.

Later that day in drawing class, we asked students to draw something they dream of. They took their time and each one sketched something more beautiful than the other — some drew about what they wanted to be, some drew unicorns, some drew sunsets, some drew classrooms.

Every drawing carried a beautiful imagination and small determined hands — bringing what they imagined.

And then suddenly, my eyes caught one picture — the artist had drawn a house built of books. Can you imagine? And look who it was? It was Mannu. I sat near him and asked, "Why did you draw this?" And no wonder, he always has an answer — a satisfying answer which puts you in awe.

He stood up and explained to me like a professor. He said "Ye kitaabo ka ghar h, jo hume hamesha har musibat se bachayega" (This house is built of books, which will save us from any disaster.) A drawing in which walls were made of encyclopaedias, the roof of magazines — and the chimney made of rolled newspapers.

I was shocked to see a child's imagination. I asked, "How will a house of books save you?" He answered — "Look, you only teach us that books and knowledge are the biggest weapon and saviour. So imagine a house built of books and not of bricks.

It will have so many books — they will protect us, shelter us."

I was numb for a second — at the student's words. For him, knowledge was home. I kept staring at the drawing, knowing this was he exact metaphor of Pehchaan The Street School.

We don't promise a roof over the head, but we offer routine. Maybe meals are missed, but we offer meaning. We can't shelter them from poverty, but we help them to build inner walls so strong that they never fall apart.

I wondered how we forget the privilege of permanence sometimes. We often complain about trivial things — like I complained about Monday morning, the rain . But look at these children, for whom rain is not an excuse.

They still work, in fragile conditions, whether they have things or not — they try, they build, it breaks, but they rebuild it.

They don't study just for marks, or getting passed, or consider it as a duty — they do it for themselves. To build something meaningful. For them, it holds immense power.

That day I learnt why I actually joined Pehchaan The Street School. I merely thought it is just one other NGO, and I would get my certificate and be done . But no! I came here to teach lessons to students like Mannu.

But how the universe plays, see — I got the biggest lesson not from a PhD-level professor or NRI guest lecturer but from a simple boy. It's strange how these students — with dust on their shoes and dreams in their eyes — end up giving you lessons you didn't know you needed.

I continuously looked at the drawing and Mannu, and felt grateful and shocked in different ways.

I asked if he would invite me into his "house of books"? He jokingly first said no, and then said — "Ha pakka didi. Dekhna vo bhout khubsurat hoga."

I handed him a chocolate — and he went, leaving his drawing on the floor. I stayed there, kept wondering how new imagination and different perspectives comes as you grow older. But I was wrong. I realised as we grow older and start learning about the world — we restrict ourselves to think beyond logic.

But sometimes adults need children to think beyond the realistic world. Children don't stop — they imagine things, draw them, and leave us in awe. I am happy Pehchaan The Street School is teaching so many young minds, which gives them paper and pencil to draw their dreams and imaginations. Now they know the value of books and, knowledge. What power it holds.

After a while, I was randomly scrolling through my phone and something caught my attention. It was an article written by Better India on Pehchaan The Street School. Better India is a very well-known page which highlights true stories of society.

This article covered stories of Pehchaan The Street School — how it went from 10 students to 5000+ now. It all started with one initiative — one dream. There are 1600+ active students studying in 10 different centers of Pehchaan The Street School. And the alumnis of Pehchaan The Street School are now studying in well-known universities like Delhi University.

It revolves around the hidden efforts of every volunteer, intern and staff. Every effort combined brings this dream a soul. I am happy and grateful that not only I can see these efforts and feel them, but also be part of it.

It tells that your story matters — you are not invisible. While reading, my brain constantly visualised one face — the innocent face of Mannu. And his drawing of "house of books". His words were echoing in my ears.

Later I saw him dancing and giggling with his drawing in his hands because he won today's drawing competition. He was so excited and again and again going to different volunteers and showing what he drew.

He proved that dreams are not built out of circumstances but belief. He taught me how you can still be happy with no shoes, unironed clothes, no uniform, no roof above your head.

He tells how someone can be satisfied with what he truly has and is being given. Later he came to me, I said — "Congratulations, artist." And he smiled and said, "Thank you didi." "Wait for the time I build this drawing into reality."

He packed his bag and rushed home to show his parents what he drew today and learnt in school. Before coming to Pehchaan The Street School, he used to sell flowers at crossroads. But after joining Pehchaan The Street School, he comes daily and learns things obediently. He knows if he misses lessons, he will again be loitering around selling flowers in the future.

His proud parents now want him to be an artist, who sketches and removes them from the shackles of poverty. Their eyes glow when they see their child drawing something beyond imagination.

Dear diary, I am very happy that I didn't plan to stay in my bed. If I had, I would have missed the most precious lesson and his optimistic smile. Mannu might think it was his regular day, but for me it was really special. This was only possible because of Pehchaan The Street School.

Mannu might forget which crayons he used, what drawing he made. But I won't forget what he taught me. Because that house, made of books, reminded me that what we're building here is more than just education.

We're building homes in minds.

May Pehchaan The Street School get successful in teaching more and more students every year. Because every wish, every dream needs fuel, water and power to fly — and Pehchaan The Street School is doing that.

Every child is like a germinating seed — needing love, support, and the right environment to grow.

Until next time, Diary…

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