It all began when my mother moved into the town with me; I decided to join some institution. A meeting with Dr. Chavan, Head of the department of Psychiatry, Govt Med Col and Hosp, led me to Government Institute for Mentally Retarded Children, Sector 32, Chandigarh.   A tiny building hidden from major areas of the city, it holds a beckoning charm. My first few days were in the clinical section. Interactions with the staff revealed a story behind the institution. It used to be a rickety place, a place for insane. The board placed outside read ‘paaglon ka aspataal’. However, this was till1998, till Dr. Chavan noticed its dismal conditions and voluntarily took up charge. His sole condition was that he be allowed to work independently, without any restrictions. Post that, the place thrived in the form of a mecca for the mentally challenged and their parents.   One of the first boys I came across was Ishwar*, a slightly impulsive and jerky ten-year old with big black eyes. They immediately enrolled him in the school and sent him for I.Q. assessment. The institution has different wings – clinical, educational, vocational, and residential. Patients are first of all directed to the clinical wing, and as per the assessed mental, social, educational and physical status, they are further directed to other wings. It’s interesting to observe such a well-organized and systematic procedure.   GIMRC serves the autistic as well. Autism is described in the form of social inadequacy. Christened ‘Anand’ by his parents, one of the new patients actually reflected his name. I observed him from a distance… and out of the corner of his eyes, he observed me observing him. Autism is also marked by features unique to every child. Anand seemed to have an irrepressible urge to stand up and sit down time and again. Throughout assessment, I took up the task of asking him to sit down whenever he stood up. For the tenth time, suddenly, he got up. However, this time, he started walking towards the door… I called behind him to come back, but, to no avail. And then I realized, that, all he wanted was, to shut the door. (The noise outside was causing him disturbance.) I looked at him, amazed… he grinned. The young boy had outwitted me in his own autistic way.   We often underestimate these kids, only to realize our folly within seconds. The world they live in is different, but not necessarily below or above any other world.   The library is a quiet room, tucked away in the far end of main corridor at the left of entrance. It has everything that a person interested in special children might need. Trainees, like me, throng it. To facilitate the activities going on in the institution, the library has an information centre. The view outside is a welcome one with boys and girls chit-chatting under the sun. Another interesting thing is the library’s scrap book; it contains newspaper cuttings (related to exceptional children). The scrapbook kept me busy for hours.   There are little things about the institution that enhance its beauty, not just physically, but even otherwise. E.g. the canteen is run by a mentally challenged guy himself, and the food, again, is served by an MR person. Both have been equipped well enough by the people of institute so as to deliver efficient services. I’d like to mention here, the tea is exceptionally good; all the staff members seem to be addicted to it.   The play way section is a place full of hustle bustle. The teacher often plays music, and the kids let themselves go. One wouldn’t call it dance therapy at its best, yet, the effects are worth noticing. Binni,* a lean and peaceful girl, extends her hands towards Ankur,* a plump boy. Both of them dance to the tune of Rangeela, and seem to make a perfect couple. Niyukt*, a boy diagnosed with both ADHD (Attention Deficit Hyperactivity Disorder) and mental handicap, had learnt to hold spoon and use it for eating food. It had taken him one month, and intense labour. However, though the boy ate with spoon in school, he was unable to do it outside… so much so that his mother didn’t even believe he could eat with a spoon. He still seems to have some challenges to overcome in this lesson of life.   Kids go on from play way to primary to secondary school. Mid-way, many of them are sent to vocational wing. Stitching, book binding and painting are some of the vocational classes going on presently. Once again, it’s heart-warming to observe the peaceful proceedings. I felt welcomed in all the classes, and the pupils made me perfectly comfortable… one wouldn’t think of them as challenged, unless told so.   As a last word, the institution is an achievement in itself; build up of many little achievements by the teachers, administrative staff, Dr.Chavan, and the kids themselves. The kids’ parents also deserve a word here, for, it takes courage to leave one’s child at a place with a ‘tag-mark’ even if it brings hope with it. My one month training made me feel satisfied, and, smilingly, satisfied with the powers that be.   * Name changed