I have told this story multiple times on various stages wherever I got the chance to speak...it is so touching and impactful, I just can't let it go. Of course, happy to share here too!

It was 2018 when I was visiting a place called Muddenahalli outside Bengaluru in the southern Indian state of Karnataka. The place was abuzz with the birthday celebrations of the spiritual master Sri Sathya Sai Baba. The program was a big pillar-less hall where a lot of devotees from all across the globe, a few teachers, administrators of the campus, and also a few students were gathered. Anticipating a bigger crowd, they had put some extra canopies outside the hall too, and as luck would have it, I didn't get the chance to sit inside so I parked myself under those canopies.

After the initial formalities, they asked a young girl to speak to the audience. This petite girl was from the sixth grade of one of their girls' campuses, and she walked with cautious confidence...I don't she looked afraid given that the whole hall was filled with people and there was complete silence. I was definitely afraid for her. I did not want her to fumble and struggle lest the audience might make fun of her. Unconsciously, I might have even prayed to quicken the proceedings.

But when she started speaking confidently, I was surprised...she spoke in the regional language Kannada, which I didn't understand. However, she sounded belonging to the stage and was going on without any hesitation or confusion. I heard cheers and clapping a couple of times. Before I could get the gist of her talk, I noticed I had started crying silently...the effect of her childish voice and the warmth of the audience overtook me and I could not control myself. In short, everything went very well. 

Fast forward to the last year: There was a group of CFOs of various companies who wanted to visit the same campus. I was also a part of the team who was receiving them. There was a small meet-and-greet program in a lecture theatre and I got the chance to sit inside.

A girl was asked to speak to these C-suite leaders. I was curious. However, I soon had to hide under the desk to wipe my tears because I realized the same petite girl was speaking and I could understand her now because she was speaking in English.

She said (Summary only not the exact words): "We are three sisters and our father left our mother because she could not give him a male child. Our mother had to fend for us by doing petty jobs, which are scarce in a village anyway. There was no money for food even; leaving aside the question of getting any sort of education. Then one fine day, a group of people (https://eachoneeducateone.org/) came to our village; noticed our condition, and offered me the chance to get an education--I would not have to pay any fee and also all my needs would be taken care of. Now, I want to become a professor, go back to my village, and give the same opportunity to more children who do not get this chance. During my vacations, I already teach my village kids."

I was so moved to hear her story...often education seems like a minuscule effort to do anything positive on society but the impact is always very big. It has the potential to create a chain reaction that can touch a number of lives and give them home, purpose, and the means to become future leaders. A beneficiary becoming a benefactor!

Rural India still struggles with a lot of social challenges where girls often become the victim of lack of opportunity. Their talents are hardly honed and their strengths seldom valued, but there is no denying the fact that if we get together to put some efforts in this direction, we not only create the change, we create the changemakers.