The Blooms
I am in class IXth elaborating on author's unwritten words. Most of the times I concentrate on the unwritten rather than the written.Just now I have presented the most unconventional view on positive thinking and am rather sorry to see the puzzled expressions. When I do that, and I do that quite often, I feel extremely sorry. A face or two in the crowd seems to understand what I said.That's enough. Next time there will be many more. What I had to say has attacked their conventional beliefs. Beliefs which their parents, teachers and others have passed unto them However, I had to do my job, even if it requires moments of cracking and crumbling. I have to push open the windows for them What they observe and absorb will be of their own accord. After all I can't control that.
Thoughts
Term End Thoughts
What makes a student? A teacher, a school, a parent or an environment? Or is it the sum total of all these? If it really is the latter, then maybe I have an escape. The list of failures is perhaps not only a reflection on me. I might find refuge in passing the buck but then somewhere a thought keeps nagging me - you could do better, better, better.
Checking papers is perhaps the most painful part of teaching. What glares on your face is not what you actually taught but rather what you failed to teach. When a class ninth student prefers to close his letter to his father with “yours approximately”, do you doubt his father’s paternity or the fact that you failed to tell them that rhyme and synonymity are two different concepts? And yes, attempting a character sketch in literature is not the same as attempting a sketch in drawing. Was that to be told?
I shall be careful next time.
Friendship Day Thoughts
You know the day is round the corner, when Dove starts planning days ahead…bands, chocolates and cards.
My gratitude…Thank you friends for being there. Flowers for all the friends who come here.
Sari
Sundays are always special, but more so now when I get to read a fresh column by Shashi Tharoor every Sunday. So I was elated to read Save the sari from a sorry fate as sari remains my favourite garment. It was a double feast – Shashi Tharoor and his endorsement of my favourite attire. But by any stretch of imagination, I could have never foreseen the kind of response it evoked from the feminists. So much so that he had to come up with a rejoinder asking – “Where did I go wrong?”
My date with sari goes back to the time when I was just a twelve year old. Would wear it to any fancy dress competition in school, festivals or in the parties thrown by the ambassador where different nationals would come. Their admiring looks said so much about the beauty of the Sari. But not for our feminists . They cry hoarse about anyone who pleads to arrest the declining interest of Indian ladies in Sari.
For starters, I would agree with the fact that Sari is not really a very comfortable piece of clothing but then neither are stilettos in the office or cut sleeves in the chilly winter winds. Yet many Indians women don them. Denim is anytime thicker on hot and sultry summer months than a cool cotton sari.
Aqua Genius calls it a tent behind which mountains of flab can be concealed though his models adorn it with panache.
However, passions do not always spring from rational grounds. I really cannot give you too many good reasons why we Indian women should not part with the elegance of sari. But there is something which I find ridiculous about the feminists who jump with daggers in their hands at anyone who speaks about perpetuating any traits exclusively feminine.
Does feminism mean the “man-ization” , if any such term exists, of woman? I guess not. Besides having equal rights, for me feminism means that a woman should have her own space to grow as a woman and not as a man. Therein comes my case for sari. Sari with myriad vibrant colours, textures and designs is epitome of everything feminine. It compliments a woman’s body as no other garment can ever do. It enhances the inherent beauty of any woman which nature has so generously bestowed on women.
So Mr. Tharoor, I am all for this six yards of beauty and there was nothing sexist about your appeal to Indian women to adorn this attire.
The Crystal Haze
The day’s events have exhausted me. There is too much excitement to contain. So I decide to sit and write.
I am wrapped in questions, problems, solutions and exercises and some more exercises. There is no end to it. Even in my dreams I am explaining how a report is written differently than an article and how Keynes differed from classical economists. What make everything more complex are the extra questions of mathematics, which are, simply beyond my comprehension and which Dove insists that I explain her. Now how on earth am going to crack them! Not able to grasp that her mom has limits, she refuses to take help from anybody else. The whims of a preteen are sometimes simply baffling. Gripped in the time crunch my guilt deepens as I am really not able to do much.
Exams over, it's time for Dove to visit her school to check her answer sheets for any errors that might have crept in totaling etc. When she comes back she is in tears. She has just fallen short of a mark to make it to a scholar. Ironically, more painful is the fact, that her mathematics teacher has awarded her three marks extra and she goes back and gets them corrected. It is too big a temptation but she has overcome it, else her Mom would be angry. But now in front of her mom she breaks down. All her dreams and hard work through the year are shattered. I appreciate her. She has done the right thing. She remains my star. However, nothing can console her now. Her disappointment has not ebbed. But then some of life’s lessons are learnt the hard way. Work harder next year. With a resolution to practice mathematics regularly the matter is closed.
Today is Dove’s result. Though the dad daughter duo can fetch the result I decide to take a half-day from my work. My decision is not free from my guilt, that I could have given her more time. We rush through the maddening Delhi traffic. Somehow we are able to make it on time.
Her teacher congratulates us. We thank her with a wry smile. Not able to digest our dryness, the charming class teacher congratulates us once again but this time she adds another word to her congratulating note. Scholar. I hurriedly scan through the report card. My eyes are fixed on the column where the heading Scholar is ticked. How could that be. She was running short of the stipulated percentage. I am no Ramanujan in mathematics but then simple percentage calculation is not beyond my capability. She clarifies. Dove was considered as a special case for the award. All the teachers have vouched for her and requested the Principal to grant her an extra grace mark. So scholar she becomes! I am too dazed to comment. All the haze has evaporated and what remains are the sparkling crystal colours.
“Honesty is the cornerstone of all success, without which confidence and ability to perform shall cease to exist.” Mary Kay Ash
Silken Words
far across oceans in a distant land...
a whisper that mingles with fragrant thoughts...
reaching out as the evening sets...
and settles into ur palms...
as u cup it to your ears...
and you shall hear me...
call out your name...
anjali...
anjali...
anjali...
A priceless treat from a friend...Pincushion.
Black White Grey And Colours
In the morning assembly Principal is wishing students great success in the exams they are going to attempt shortly. She is also warning them against the use of any form of unfair means. “A friend who appears to help while cheating is in fact crippling you, making you a dependent forever. Be wary of such friends.” Golden words.
Despite being on the other side of the fence now the mere mention of exams gives me goosebumps. As if in dream I float back into the tunnel.
I am a little girl and my dad is telling me never to use any unfair means to get anything in life. Always be honest and seek the truth. I listen to him and his words are sown deep inside. Whatever he says has to be absolutely right beyond doubt because he is always right. He is the epitome of truth.
I float nearer. Tomorrow is my Economics exam. I am well prepared. I have an excellent teacher in school and she has clarified all my problems. All set for the battle the next day. Just then my neighbour comes and shows me a piece of paper. It has a set of questions which she claims are coming in next day's exam. I laugh the whole matter away. It's not a mere school test but The Board. Nevertheless just out of curiosity and to test my knowledge I sit down and solve the questions. Fairly easy I will be able to do it. Bah! The Board question paper! The girl must be out of her mind.
After an eight hours long sleep I rush through the morning chores and off to Hansraj Model School. As I fight the pre exam sinking feeling I open the question paper with trembling hands. First question, second question, third question…Oh my God! The girl was right. How could that be? I am pale. I can’t concentrate. All I can see is utter darkness. All I can hear is “never use unfair means”. All I can think is, why to work so hard the whole year long if I were to take this easy way out. I tell myself repeatedly that I didn’t go for it. But then I shouldn’t have seen the paper when she said it was going to come in today’s paper. Whatever had to happen has happened. I can’tt help it anymore. Let me give it my best shot now. But its too late. Before I know the time has flown away. I am going to flunk. I haven’t been able to write any answer properly.
I am inconsolable. Nobody is able to understand why I am crying. Some friends are envious. In fact they are cursing me for not letting out the secret. If only I had known. Nobody will understand. I have let my dad down. He is not going to be proud of his girl.
“Stand straight for the national anthem!”, the commanding voice reverts me back into the present with a thud. The classes are dispersed and students are running to their respective examination rooms. I have to check some question papers so I hurry to the front office.
As young persons there was only one truth, the absolute truth. There is never a doubt about the truth itself. Its only a question of following it or failing it. But not for long. The cracks bewilder you. As a young person it’s only the black or white that occupies your value system but later the greys occupy you. The worst part is that grey comes in various shades. This keeps you embroiled in a wide array of choices. Besides it also provides an escape route to justify many a dubious short cut, act and deed. In the end though, whatever choices we make the result is always in black and white.
In the season of colours its not fair to talk about black and white only. I wish everybody a very colourful and happy Holi. May your life be filled with colours of joy, happiness, love, growth and prosperity.
PostScript : For those of you who are curious about the result of that fateful exam, the next day the CBSE Board declared it a leak. The exam was conducted again in which I got highest marks in Economics in my school. I also got 29th position in all India ranking.