How India’s Walls of Kindness Are Turning Public Spaces into Places of Giving

In a world often divided by barriers, India’s Wall of Kindness initiative is building something radically different — public spaces that champion compassion, empathy, and community spirit. Known locally as ‘Neki Ki Deewar’, this grassroots movement has taken root across the country, proving that kindness needs no occasion or fanfare.

Where generosity finds a home

The idea behind the Wall of Kindness is beautifully simple: anyone can hang or place items they no longer need — clothes, shoes, toys, books, even food — on a designated wall in a public space. Anyone in need can walk up and take what’s useful to them. No questions asked, no judgment passed. A painted message often accompanies these walls: “Leave what you don’t need. Take what you do.”

This model first originated in Mashhad, Iran, in 2015, when an anonymous citizen painted the now-iconic message on a wall and installed hooks for people to hang warm clothes during winter. The idea quickly went viral and found resonance globally.

When it reached India, the concept aligned seamlessly with the country’s long-standing culture of sharing and community care. Since then, the initiative has flourished in both cities and towns — reminding people that impactful change doesn’t always require grand gestures, just thoughtful ones.

From Kashmir to Kanyakumari: A widespread embrace

From the snow-dusted streets of Srinagar to the sun-baked lanes of Chennai, the Wall of Kindness has found support from students, citizens, police departments, resident welfare associations, and local NGOs.

In Mysuru, a wall near a busy bus stand allows passers-by to leave umbrellas and sweaters for daily wage workers. In Bengaluru, a wall in Basaveshwaranagar includes shelves and compartments to keep items neatly arranged, offering dignity and easy access.

In Delhi, initiatives like ‘Happy Fridge’ complement the wall concept, where people can leave home-cooked food in public fridges outside restaurants or societies, blending nourishment with dignity.

One of the earliest known installations in India was set up in Hyderabad around 2016. Since then, cities like Indore, Jaipur, Kochi, and Bhopal have embraced the idea, creating safe spaces where humanity speaks louder than words.

A canvas for change, a platform for inclusion

Some Walls of Kindness are more than donation spots — they’re also works of art. The Sahodari Foundation, a Tamil Nadu-based organisation led by transgender artist Kalki Subramaniam, has turned many of these walls into vibrant murals that tell stories of hope, identity, and acceptance.

By engaging children, villagers, and volunteers in the painting process, these drab walls are transformed into colourful symbols of inclusivity and pride. The act of painting itself becomes a form of community expression, sparking conversations around equality and empathy.

Similar art-driven initiatives have sprung up in cities like Pune and Ahmedabad, where artists use public walls to raise awareness on social issues while supporting the donation movement.

Sustained by the people, for the people

What makes this initiative stand out is how organically it operates. There are no formal rules or management structures. Instead, it’s sustained by everyday acts of kindness from ordinary citizens.

People donate in their own time, and local volunteers often step in to maintain the space, sort donations, or repaint the walls when needed. School groups and housing societies have also begun organising regular donation drives to keep these walls stocked and tidy.

Interestingly, these walls have had ripple effects — some communities report cleaner neighbourhoods, lower instances of vandalism, and a rise in civic pride. In some areas, they’ve also inspired similar ideas like community libraries and free pantries.

Kindness doesn’t need a stage, just a wall

At its heart, the Wall of Kindness isn’t about charity — it’s about solidarity. It removes the layers of bureaucracy and stigma that often accompany giving, and replaces them with trust and human connection. It reminds us that even small, anonymous acts of kindness can restore dignity and hope.

In an age where digital fundraising and influencer-led causes dominate the conversation, the quiet impact of these walls proves that local, decentralised efforts still hold power, especially when rooted in trust and collective goodwill.

As more of these walls spring up, they offer a quiet but powerful lesson: that anyone, regardless of means, can be part of the solution. All it takes is a wall — and a little bit of kindness.

Edited by Khushi Arora