लकीरें - A poem

Ranadi, a small village in Reodar, Sirohi District , Rajasthan. The home of 186 families; predominantly SC. A small classroom in the village upper primary school. Little ones, six or seven years old, are busy opening their books and notebooks for the English period. The teacher writes down the names of fruits and vegetables on the board. She writes their Hindi counterparts too. The class resounds with the names of fruits and vegetables. The teacher now checks the copies of students one by one.

I cannot help but notice how tiny the notebooks are. Each page can hardly accommodate more than a few words. The large, disjointed letters cram themselves between the lines. One child in particular has trouble writing the letter S in his ‘four lined copy’. The topmost line is filled in by the teacher in red ink; several scarlet Ss in a row. The child comes time and again after filling the page using his pencil; his Ss leaking all over, but perfect, so perfect in form. The teacher patiently erases them and says each time, ‘Jao phirse karke lao’ (Trans. Go and write this again). I think of Padma Sarangapani, of the aspirations of a rural, tribal community, and of the child. My heart fills with an uncontrolled desire to write, and finding no paper I write in my mind. The first time ever I write in Hindi, and a rather long time since I write at all –

लकीरें

चार लकीरों के बीच

सिमट गया है

यह बच्चा ।

वही दायरा है

बस वही जगह

रहो ।

कुछ तो सीखो ।

कहता

मैं बड़ा आदमी बनूंगा ।

पर यह लकीरें

तकदीरें

कहीं और ही ले जाती हैं ।

-         रीमा कौर

Writing My First Will and Testament

Image courtesy The British Library 

Children do not ordinarily think of death. It could reside in the way we wish to shield them from an inevitability that usually causes pain and grief. It could be because of the average man's own fear of death. It could also be because of the sheer newness of life the dwells in each child's body that almost separates them from this reality. One would of course have to be quite heartless to think of a child leaving the world so soon. King Theoden in a moving scene from the Lord of the Rings (the movie) is overcome with emotion at the grave of his son Theodred, where he laments, "No parent should have to bury their child".

For children of my generation however, death for once came really close when several of their beloved characters died in the Harry Potter series by J. K. Rowling. The books frequently reference the departed Potters who die a sudden but miserable death, leaving behind their only child Harry who continues to experience its wrath all through his years at Hogwarts. The end of Cedric, Sirius, Dumbledore, Dobby, Fred (perhaps most heartbreaking in my opinion, though each death was sorrowful for its own reasons), Tonks, Lupin, and many more solidify Rowling's claim that there is more to life than mortality. Indeed, there is more to mortality than death. Sure, by the time the series became popular, we had already seen Mufasa's horrific plunge in The Lion King, feeling just as helpless as little Simba. We had also cried silently for Bambi's separation from his hunted mother. Death was in those moments a painful knot that rose in our hearts, marking the sudden absence of love that had fed us for so long. The knot loosened significantly with each happy turn (and there were always happy turns). But Rowling perhaps for the first time showed us the intricacies of loss. She never consoled Harry, that is, she never consoled us. As children we processed the build up, shock, denial, anger, guilt, and acceptance of various separations in a way that mirrored Harry's own struggle through them.

It is in one of those moments of finality when the Minister of Magic reads The Last Will and Testament of Albus Dumbledore to Harry, Ron, and Hermione, that I realized how death can be simple yet be surrounded by affairs as mundane as leaving behind possessions to the world. For the first time in my life, I really thought of death. And so, I thought of life. I thought of all those tangibles that I would leave and whether their distribution would provide some relief, some solace to those who loved me. Could this distribution be an exercise in coping? More importantly, why hoard assets in the deceased's home when they will certainly be of use (or at least be of sentimental value) to some close friend or family? And then I realized how one can also be selfish in death! Does one truly think of the other in such fanciful flights? Undoubtedly there will be a part of us that would always fear, always care for the well-being of those who mourn us, but we also momentarily revel in the loss that our demise would create. A thought as natural as who would attend my funeral? Am I really cared and loved for?

What if you were to drop dead this very instant? The fall would be tremendous. If in the measure of years you are a novice, you will be mourned for all that did not come to pass. A recent health scare pushed me to re-evaluate the 25 or so odd years of my existence, and I struggled with this very question. And so I planned to write my First Will and Testament, that may also be considered my last, should lightning strike. The document would be neither complete nor legal (and before you get your hopes up, it will not be published here for the world to see!). Now that I think about it, I wonder whether all my worldly possessions are even mine to give away? All those books neatly arranged and worshipped, each piece of jewellery added over the years, every cloth that graced my back... Not to mention folders overflowing with cards and letters, research notes, virtual intellectual property...! The list is endless, and painfully materialistic. But in humouring the thought of leaving for my heavenly abode, whether there exists such a place (or am I eternally damned?), I encourage others to embrace death "as an old friend" (cue The Tale of the Three Brothers). Making a Will, irrespective of your age, would be a good start. And while my Will would be nowhere near a "preparation" for death, there is a conscious realization that it will be an eventuality. I will die. Others will die. Close friends and family will die. They would all be different deaths, but they would be - deaths!

Oh! To Be Little Again!

Image via I Can Haz Cheezburger

(Most) children are innocent and with each day spent at the school teaching children, my belief is reinforced.

"You're little now, so you're called a girl and he's called a boy. What will you be called when you grow up?"

"Human!"

"Err... Aren't you a human now?"

"No! I'm a kid."

In another incident, a rather feisty boy from class III came up to me and said, "Ma'am, you know what Aditya told a group of girls from class IV?"
"No.... What did he say?"
"He said, 'Girrrrrls! Come here!'" (Saying so, he roared with laughter and poor Aditya flushed a deep shade of crimson.)

So you see. While we stand scratching our heads wondering what happened, almost anything makes a little kid laugh!

Image via I Can Haz Cheezburger

The youngest children I teach always love looking at colourful photographs and pictures. This always felicitates interesting conversation, which is basically the prime motive of my classes, so the other day I borrowed a book from the library. It was about the circus and had large photographs of trapeze artists, lions, the ringmaster, flame throwers etc.. When I opened the first page of the book and showed it to the class, they let out a collective gasp. Sensing that something was wrong, I turned the book towards myself and had a long hard look at the page.
"What's wrong guys? It's just a couple of lions!"
"Oh Ma'am! Can't you see? They're all running around in a circle and a couple of them are standing on stools! Waaaooow!"
Hmm.. I saw nothing spectacular in a couple of lions running around on their hind legs, but they did. Why's that?

The main reason for our lack of enthusiasm at the simple things of life is because we've been there, done that. We've all let out our gasps and had our share of wows. A tiny earthworm splitting into two tinier ones does not excite us. We don't hoot with laughter when we see someone wearing a foil hat. A puppy scratching its head off is mundane. Uninteresting.

Image via I Can Haz Cheezburger

When was the last time we asked an interesting question? Children do that all the time. They're full of queries. No answer completely quenches their curiosity. Some of their favourite words are "what" and "why". Why are your nails green today? What is in your bag? Why is that boy crying? What do you mean? Why are you so short? Why are your feet so small? Why are you shouting? So on and so forth. You'll get tired of answering but the questions just won't stop coming! That's the beauty of childhood.

Now the problem arises when these children grow up and turn into.. well.. us! Grumpy old adults sans enthusiasm. We hem and haw over how much we know, how much we've seen. I personally believe that the day we stop being curious and enthusiastic, we lead a pointless existence. Blessed are those who realize this! A couple of days back I got a beautiful message from one of the sweetest persons I've meet in life. Having recently acquired a job, he has little time for himself and those around him. The message goes like this (ignore the errors that are typical of forwarded messages)-

One day we will all be sitting and thinking hard about life...
How it changed from a simple college life to the strict professional life...
How pocket money changed to huge monthly pay cheques, but gives less happiness..
How a few local jeans changed to a new, branded wardrobe, but less occasions left to wear them to...
How a single plate of samosa changed to a full pizza, but the hunger is less...
How a bike always in reserve changed to a car always full of petrol, but less places to go to...
How a tea by the roadside changed to CCD, Barista; but no friends for gossiping...
How a general class journey changed to travelling by flight; but less vacations for enjoyment...
Maybe this is the truth of the journey called "life"...

I'm sure we'll all associate with these words (even if just a bit!). Hidden behind this message is a desperate need to be little again; to be untroubled and carefree again! We all desire to go back to that stage of life where stress meant an exam; a decision meant choosing the right subjects and sorrow meant getting over a crush! An extremely popular Facebook page with over one lakh "fans" is very appropriately titled- "I wish I was little again, when the hardest choice was picking a crayon".

Sigh... To be little again!

Image via I Can Haz Cheezburger

Beneath The Smiles

You set off to earn your bread and butter, leaving a bonny baby and smiling wife behind. Driving through the chaos, you realize how everything you ever wanted from life is there for you, giving you a reason to go on and be happy. The usual grind at work does nothing to dampen your spirits because you know you're going to be home in a few hours. You just can't wait...
She says she wants to lie down. Pretty unusual for her at this time of the day. She's smiling though, so it means she's all right. Just tired perhaps. Let her rest, she needs it. It's difficult to raise a child without any help.
You enter the room and find her on the bed with her eyes open. She's smiling still. It's hot, but she's all covered up. Looks like her body's aching.
Are you all right? Why don't you get up now? It's been a long time, let's grab something to eat.
She doesn't reply. Her eyes are now shut. Has she gone to sleep? Maybe you should come back later and let her rest a little while longer. But what's this? There's water on the floor. You better wipe it or she'll slip and fall. Switch on the lights.
What's all this?? Get up, get up!
It's not water, it's blood. There's blood everywhere. On the floor, on the sheets.. She should have gone to the doctor for a proper abortion.

Image by Noel A. Tanner via Flickr

Mini Celebrity

Image by woodleywonderworks via Flickr

What do you say when a little girl from class four asks you about your interest in writing? I of course, said that I am an ardent reader of books and love to write as well; and perhaps when the class would all grow up, they would get to read my books. All said in jest, because I don't think I would ever publish a book. But it was shockingly surprising (I wouldn't call it pleasant!) to see the entire class run up to me, carrying diaries, notebooks and even scraps of paper to take my "autograph". All because I am to soon become a high profile writer with little or no time to get back to my dear students. They pushed, tugged and waged war with ear other to get to me first. I was caught completely off guard and took my own sweet time to regain composure. The rest of the class was spent signing my name and giving out my cellphone number...

Hyperventilating Insects!

"So, how was your Science Olympiad today?"

"Oh, it was soo easy Ma'am! Here, take a look at the question paper.."

"Hmm, so what option did you choose for this question.. Which of the following dissolves in water - a) oil b) salt c) insect d) paper.."

"SALT!"

(So I decided to engage in some leg pulling...)

"Oh, but don't you know, insects dissolve in water much quicker!"

"No Ma'am! If you put an insect in water uski bus saans phool jaegi.."

CHILDREN, THESE DAYS!

So there I was, interacting with a bunch of nine year olds, trying to get them to speak effortlessly in english.

"Lets divide the class into two groups - girls and boys", I said.

"Sure!"

"Tell me boys, how do we brush our teeth? Tell me the whole procedure, step by step."

"We take a toothbrush, wet it, apply toothpaste on it, clean our teeth and tongue, rinse our mouths, rinse the brush. Done!"

"Very good! 10 points!"

"Yay!"

"Ok, now girls. Tell me, how do you get ready in the morning?"

"We get up, take bath, brush our teeth, polish our shoes, wear the uniform, eat breakfast and leave home to come to school."

"Very good! 10 points to you too!"

"Yay!"

"Ok, now I wont ask any more questions. Ask each other. Girls, ask the boys a question."

"Yay! Hmmm. How do you switch on the computer?"

"We switch on the UPS, then the CPU, then we wait for the screen to switch on, enter the password, then wait for the desktop to appear."

"Excellent boys! 10 points again! Now why dont you boys ask the girls a question?"

"Woohoo!" *whispering* "How do girls take bath????"

"No!! No!! Ask another question!!"

*more whispering* *sniggering* "How is a baby born????"

........

CHILDREN, THESE DAYS!