The Bandhu of Purulia!

"You know, I started Bandhu Purulia six years ago, but this Bandhu has been with me for the last twelve years," says Annapurna as she guides me through the narrow streets of Purulia, a small town in West Bengal, on her trusted Honda Activa—her two-wheeler companion, her "Bandhu."

The past two days have been filled with these small yet significant journeys

moving from one village to another, from one home to the next.

Annapurna Mukherjee founded Bandhu Purulia in 2017, driven by an unshakable will and a heart full of passion. It is a school for children with autism, intellectual disabilities, and cerebral palsy, providing access to services based on their needs in a small village of Surulia in the Purulia district of West Bengal. Her journey, however, began long before that, rooted in the personal battles she witnessed at home. Her brother, was born with cerebral palsy, and she watched as her parents navigated the challenges of finding essential services for his well-being in their small village.

"They used to travel to Kolkata or Ranchi for his therapy. It took so much time!" she reminisces.

As we embark on another 15-minute ride to our next destination in her bandhu, she raises her voice so that I can hear her through the wind, "We're heading to Arzoo's home next. You remember him from the last shoot, four years ago? He’s come such a long way since then. I’ll tell you more once we reach there."

We arrive, and before I can even dismount the bike, Arzo comes running, his face lighting up at the sight of Annapurna. She parks her bike with the ease of someone coming home and guides me in, her familiarity with this place and these people so natural and deep, it feels like watching a bond far stronger than mere blood ties.

With the help of an incredibly kind Director of Photography (DOP), Pinto, who graciously translates from Bangla to Hindi, I begin to unravel Arzo’s journey through the words of his mother. She tells me how, not long ago, Arzo couldn’t speak, could barely sit still, and never followed instructions. At first, everyone, including Annapurna, believed he had a hearing impairment. But everything began to change when Arzo started attending Bandhu Purulia, where Annapurna took the time to truly understand his needs.

“Nobody knew about autism or intellectual disabilities. They just called it disability. Even today, it takes time for me to explain,” Annapurna shares as we sit together, sipping on cups of tea. Her words carry the weight of years spent talking to parents, patiently bridging the gap between misunderstanding and awareness. I witness the transformation in Arzo firsthand. He sits quietly, following instructions with a calm focus. I watch as he eats his food on his own, then helps his mother arrange chairs for us. Finally, with a spark of curiosity in his eyes, he approaches me, speaking in Bangla, asking questions about my camera.

We are back on the Honda Activa, heading to our next destination, Bandhu Purulia's Centre/School, when Annapurna’s phone starts ringing again. We pull over to the side of the road, waiting as she gives detailed instructions about what needs to be prepared at the school before we arrive to shoot. As she speaks, a father riding by with his child on a bike notices us and stops. For a moment, I think it might be because of the camera in my hand, but I quickly realize I am mistaken.

After a brief exchange in Bangla and the swapping of mobile numbers, Annapurna turns to me with a soft, understanding expression. “His son is four years old and isn’t speaking much. The father is worried because the boy also doesn’t respond to his name. I was just telling him to bring his son to the school tomorrow so I can spend some time with him and understand what’s going on.” I am struck by the simplicity of this encounter. It is clear that her care extends far beyond the walls of the school, reaching into the hearts of those in her community, one conversation at a time.

After arriving at the school, I find myself politely declining yet another cup of tea while we prepare for the shoot. As I busy myself with the equipment, I notice Annapurna seizing a moment with her little boy, "Puchkoo," who is just two years old. She brings him over to introduce us, but my Hindi doesn’t seem to impress him. I try the classic game of peek-a-boo, but this little one is not easily amused. Annapurna asks if it would be alright for her son to join us during the shoot, and I eagerly agree, hoping that the camera might catch his interest. As we begin filming in the classrooms, capturing the children engaged in group work, one-on one interactions, and physical therapy, I start to truly grasp what Bandhu Purulia means to these children and their families. Without this center, parents would have to travel two to three hours to find similar services. They might have the diagnosis on paper, but what then? "We have clinics in Purulia, and there are therapists," Annapurna explains. "But there’s no center like ours that offers such a holistic approach. We’ve even started focusing on nutrition because malnutrition is becoming a growing concern here."

After the classroom sessions, we decide it is time to interview Annapurna on camera. To my amusement, Puchkoo seems determined to take on the role of interviewer. When he realizes that the camera isn’t going to be focused on him, he begins dragging a chair over to sit beside his mother, as if he already understands the art of framing a shot. I take a picture of him, show him for his approval and ask him permission to continue to interview his mother, he kindly obliged (Annapurna was kind enough to translate my request)

The interview with Annapurna lasts for some time, filled with insights and moments that stay with me long after. There are stories of doubt, where people question her intent and dedication simply because she is expecting a child, and moments where funding is a challenge. But what I remember most is her smile and the will and passion with which she narrates all her stories and engages with all the parents she meets. Bandhu Purulia is now being supported by FIRST IMPACT, IDFC FIRST Bank's CSR initiative under their Ek Prayas program.

In every moment I captured in Purulia, I witnessed the true essence of Bandhu—a connection, a friendship, a lifeline that Annapurna has built, not just for herself, but for all the children who deserve access to quality services based on their needs.