Where language met love, and learning lit the way.
After our unforgettable experience at the Urdu School in Ansari Nagar, we stepped into another Urdu school in the heart of Virar, carrying a heart full of hope and the lessons we had learned before. What awaited us was even more magical — a school where every child was eager, every face lit up with curiosity, and every heart beat with the desire to become something bigger than their circumstances.
This school, too, came with its own barriers — language being one of them — but we had already learned that when there’s trust and love, communication always finds a way.
From the very first day, the children welcomed us with shy smiles and bright eyes. Some were unsure. Some looked at our tools and kits like they were magical items from a dream world. But within moments, curiosity won over fear.
They asked, they observed, they touched, and then — they created.
That’s what made this batch so special — their innate urge to understand, to innovate, to break something just to see how it works, and then to build it again, better.
We weren’t just teaching them how to use wires, motors, or sensors — we were helping them see their own power to create and change.
Among the many incredible students we met, one young boy’s story will stay with us forever.
Yakid, a soft-spoken 12-year-old with sharp eyes and a heart full of questions, became the soul of this batch.
He came from a background that most would call difficult. Raised by his grandmother after losing both his parents at a young age, Yakid didn’t speak much — not because he didn’t want to, but because the world hadn’t given him many chances to be heard.
But when we introduced him to basic electronics and tinkering tools, something changed.
He became a different person. His hands moved with purpose, his eyes sparkled with focus, and for the first time, he led a team project. He designed a small light-and-sound alarm system using just a few components — but the idea and execution came entirely from him.
When asked why he built it, he said something simple but profound:
“So that people like my grandmother don’t have to shout for help at night. This alarm can tell us when someone falls or needs help.”
That moment silenced the entire room.
We realized then — we weren’t just teaching Yakid. He was teaching us what true innovation looks like: solving real problems, from the heart, with whatever resources you have.
The students didn’t stop with just kits or components. They began thinking like designers, problem-solvers, and creators. They made small machines, creative mechanical tools, even posters about energy-saving ideas.
They supported one another. When someone’s circuit failed, they all gathered to help. They celebrated each other’s tiny wins with huge smiles and high-fives. That’s when we knew — we hadn’t just taught a class; we’d built a community.
Even we, the mentors, grew with every session. We found new ways to explain, new languages of emotion, and we discovered how powerful learning can be when both sides are fully invested — teacher and student alike.
This wasn’t just a school visit. It was a reminder that potential exists everywhere — in every corner, every classroom, every child.
These students may not have access to the best labs or the latest gadgets. But they have what truly matters:
Curiosity.
Willpower.
Imagination.
And an unshakable desire to do something meaningful.
Through every wire connected, every gear turned, every light that blinked — we witnessed the birth of a generation that’s ready to build its future, no matter what stands in the way.
To the teachers, thank you for trusting us.
To the students, thank you for teaching us more than we could ever teach you.
To Yakid, and every child like him — you are the reason we do what we do.
We came to give knowledge.
But we left with memories, hope, and a deeper sense of purpose.
This isn’t the end — it’s the beginning of something powerful. And we can’t wait to return.
Talk to us!