More of Roots

While my sojourn at my elementary school was like a cool breeze  the entry into the new girls' high school was process of  'blow hot and blow cold'!

For one thing the segregation by colour code  was visible in the day to day activities of this school. Everything being equal  the class pupil leader was invariably the fair and lovely one and the squads within the class holding the name of great Indian heroines  Chandbibi,  Padmini,  Damayanthi and Razia had few leaders as gratis with no so fair complexion!!

The new school was overflowing  with plenty of rich and fair females waiting in the anvil to partake in  any sort of entertainment programme and the competition even among  them to participate was immense! Hence, we the not so fair and financially unwilling pariah  group, took a disappointing back seat and sometimes like the substitutes in the cricket  game rehearsed for the shows 'just in case' someone fell sick. Till the last moment we were in a perennial dilemma of  whether we are 'to be or not to be'!

This was in stark contrast to my elementary school where participation in  performances was taken for granted! And the teachers cared a hoot regarding refined costume code very precious to the nuns of the new school!

 However this sort of situation  had  its own advantages and took me in the other direction. In the early fifties the United Nations Organisation was in the nascent stage and the nuns wanted the students to know about this global peace movement. With this aim in mind  they wanted a large map for the school depicting all the 50 odd participating nations. While creating a map of desired size  is a child's play with today's  digital technology it was a Herculean task then.

The quality conscious nuns left no stone unturned once they decided to create one! With lot of engineering skill a world map was drawn on a white cloth as long as the hall and the member countries of UN were also sketched to perfection. The nuns involved an enthusiastic  group including me as their helpers.

 Since the member nations of the UN had to be distinguished, the big task of choosing colour threads of various combinations and varied stitches were discussed in detail . We the unskilled workers threaded the required colours  while the nuns ardently involved themselves into the labourious process of  hand embroidery!!  The names of the stitches they pronounced  bewildered me! Till that day I knew just the single stitch mother made for darning our torn clothes! Like the litany they recited every day by heart   cross stitch,  back stitch, herring bone stitch, feather stitch, arrow stitch, cable stitch, fern stitch, French knot, Danish knot and  knotted button hole  flew out of those nuns' nimble hands decorating and honouring each nation! Our  enthusiasm  knew no bound. If any VIP from the great UNO witnessed this mammoth work they would have definitely conferred the nuns with a special award!

With great fanfare the map was unfurled and fixed at a large wooden board. The competitions were many starting with identifying nations in the shortest possible time  by using a small stick and never ever touching the beautiful map! We also drew the flags of the member nations with colour pencils and enacted small skits on each nation creating their national attire with our limited resources! Our music teacher even composed a Tamil song elucidating  this ideologistic body and with great gusto and we sang it to our hearts' content. (I have produced part of the song in the Tamil blog) I immersed myself in these activities and winning one or two prizes multiplied my joy!

Being a catholic was a very difficult task in the assemblage of nuns  bent upon making a great saints of us! Every Friday evening it was mandatory for the catholic girls to go for confession to the nearby cathedral under the supervision  of a nun who put  the fear of hell rather than the love of God into our system. With a  longing to go back home once I told her that I don't have any sin for the week. She was taken aback by this statement. She gathered the whole herd and made me stand in the front and declared aloud "Here is a girl who says that she hasn't committed any sin in the week. What reward do you suggest can be given to her?"  No one opened their mouth lest this double edged sword holding lady would also take them to task !.

She looked around "So none of you have any suggestions for an award?'

The lady folded her hands and bowed her head turning toward me in mock reverence!

" Yes sister.."  It was indeed an unanimous chorus!!

" In that case I have a great idea. Let us go in to the altar of St. Joseph, the patron saint of our school, and remove his statue and in his place we will install our local saint."

The sarcastic comment with a lot of clapping from her and the subservient crowd made me hang my head down and from then on I decided to go into a mathematical table mode and replicated the same variety of sins to the priest in the weekly confession!!

 The high school system then had eleven standards called SSLC  when I appeared for the government exam. Unlike today where promotion from one class to the other is mandatory , the schools had the right to retain the  non performing students in the same class even for years together. And the nuns being nuns followed this rule to the word and might have  had a sadistic  pleasure  in the process!

The half yearly exam was the deciding factor for the SSLC students and the schools had the privilege to bar the students from appearing for the government exam . Since the nuns  wanted a great academic name for the school there was no hesitation to hold back the students  even if they had failed by a single mark in any one subject!!

After the Christmas and New Year festivity the somber event of meeting the headmistress on a one to one basis for the selection process began  as the school reopened. The alphabetical call started in right earnest and the girls who reentered the class had either with a scholarly smile or a sad cry. I was stressed.  Maths was my Achilles heel as was my dad's. The man would be happy if  he witnessed  pass mark in that subject in my report cards!  Now my worry was what if I had failed in the subject  the headmistress would not hesitate to hold me back. Appearing for October exam would be a shame.

Eventually it was my turn for the inevitable. Shivering inside out I stood before her  and evinced undue enthusiasm in wishing her Good morning.

"How have you done your math exam?" was her stern reply to my morning wish!

" Magie you are gone..' trumpeted my heart

"Sister I have done well sister......" Feeble was a word too feeble to say!

She looked into my eye and unsmilingly said" What are you planning ?"

"Sister I am going to do my teacher's training." And as an add on continued "I would love to serve my alma mater."

I thought it was a smart  enough  statement! The love for my alma mater would have soothed her enough to give me the required selection!!

"Go call your sister at once." commanded the lady in blue.

Now we go into another story. My elder sister after finishing her teacher's training  was teaching in my school.  But for my grandfather who hated girls education my sister with her great love for

 math would have easily gone to college. You see, genes differ within the family!!

She was engrossed in her math class when I signaled her to come out.

"Sister wants to see you."

She knew the selection process was on.

"Why is she calling me? Have you failed in math?"

I was on the verge of crying. I was shivering. I couldn't reply. I was gripping her hand tight.

"Good morning sister."

"Good morning  Josephine...... "

"Sister if she has failed in math  I would make sure that she doesn't fail in the public exam. I will definitely coach her well ..." A good defender indeed!

"She is ok with her maths......"

That solitary statement made life flow back unto me!!

"But your sister doesn't seem to have any ambition. She says she wants to do her secondary grade training! Make sure that she goes to college. Will you"?

"Yes sister...... I will talk to my parents in this regard.."

But I was disappointed. My sister who had done her teacher's training at Trichy had eulogised about the place and it's great Rock Fort so much that I wanted to go there. Added to that she seemed to have  enjoyed her week end stays at my maternal uncle house with the cousins, a lovable lot. And one more attraction was the long train journey from Kumbakonam to Trichy!

 If I were to go to college Kumbakonam possessed the famous 'Cambridge of South India' and I would not be able to step out of this ....... place.

To cut the long story short I was sent to college and am proud to say  I was the pioneer female graduate for my village and the community and with sacrifices of my parents and siblings became the first post graduate too!!

Often I thankfully think of the  stern lady in blue, Sr. Emerence, and my dear sister Josephine  for putting sense into my childish brain at the right moment!

Roots

During the summer holidays when cousins get together in the grandparents' village house,  cousins from the town, speak sky high of the place they come unmindful of their aching country cousins. The way those people  glorified  their adventures on the beach, made our escapades in our village tank melt into thin air and the longing to be closer to the beach multiplied .

After we settled down in life and moved to the state capital city of Chennai, with the second longest beach line  in the world,  it was taken for granted  till the time someone came from the village to arouse our interest in the beach again!!

The story I am going to tell you has a lot of similarity to the above . One of my close friends living in America for many years had the urge to visit his native land and wanted to reminisce his childhood days at his school. When I read his blog about his elementary school   the desire within me was kindled about my own school. Why haven't I  ever thought of my school? I have blogged about US, Italy and even Russia but how can I ever forget my elementary school which presented me with delightful carefree days!

These LKG and UKG factors were unknown then and  we children went straight for first standard.

Being a school in a small town, the villagers around brought their children to our school.

In those days a birth certificate or an income certificate or a caste certificate for that matter was unheard of  and it was not even obligatory that the parents should come for the admission. A  grandfather or  a representative of an illiterate family normally an educated friend  would suffice for the occasion. 

The conversation during admission time would go in this fashion:

" Sir.. can you give me your grandson's age please?"

The man already in awe of the school ambience would scratch his head.

" Sir....... my son got married when the great festival which happened in our place  once in twelve years. And since there was no issue after the first year of marriage we took both of them on a pilgrim to various temples which proved to be a fruitless effort. Four years had passed and one of relatives suggested that we go to Thirupathi, where  the powerful God of seven hills resides. It was indeed  quite far off  from our village. In spite of the distance, we travelled for three days and offered a prayer to the Lord in His sanctum sanctorum and requested him to give us a boon of a boy and as a return offering  we promised to come again with the baby  to  shave our heads lock stock and barrel. The Lord was kind enough to bless my son with this boy. So dear sir..... this little one should  be around five or six."

A story worthy of publishing was gifted to the teacher!

And the teacher metamorphosed into an astrologer and fixed the birth date of the child and sometimes into a priest too when the name sounded awkward and baptised them with new ones!!

After the summer holidays we returned to school. Our first standard teacher was there to welcome us. Usually there were no chairs or benches for our  class. As we were frolicking on the floor our teacher said

" Children can you sit properly and cross your hands towards the legs?"

" Yes sir...."

" Good... good..... now can you hold your toes with your hands.... You should hold it very tight"

Our teacher demonstrated the process and we happily followed him.

Just then the second standard teacher came into our class and both the teachers exchanged a sly smile!

"Now we are going to the second standard." they announced in a chorus.

As we were wondering how on earth we are going to the second standard in this posture the teachers came near Anand, alphabetically the first person in the class and putting their hands around his arm pit lifted him off to the next class.  Our promotion thus happened in this beautiful fashion of a human palanquin!!

We were in for a disappointment when we anticipated a similar  ride the next year too. The teachers just asked us to run as a group to the next standard!

 Third standard was an altogether a different experience in that we got double promotion. Apart from the normal one from a lower class to the upper one  we moved to a class with long cement benches around the room. Hey.....  squatting on the floor had become a bygone era!!

While we had a very pleasant experience with the teachers so far the third standard teacher was another kettle of  fish!

His powerful cane did most of the talking! There was a boy in our class called Victor, the mischievous of the lot, a truant to the core. His day was not done if he had not tasted the sting of the teacher’s cane. Atrocious punishments  were meted out to him like standing with one leg and holding the other leg up with a hand . We girls made doubly sure that we were always in the good books of this notorious man.

During the rainy season the school ground would be filled with fragrant brown little flowers (Mahizhampoo in Tamil). In spite of a good drenching my friend Saraswathi and I would pick up plenty of those flowers  and using a needle and thread which I brought from home on the sly we made long strings by putting the needle through the hole in the middle of the flower (Unlike flowers like jasmine which could be tied with thread these flowers are so tiny that they go by needle and thread only.) We enjoyed the fragrance which would last for three days!      

Little Flower elementary school was a coeducation till the fifth standard after which I moved to St. Joseph's girls school while the boys continued and move to high school. When I was studying there I got a good news from my old school. The principal of the high school once visited the elementary school it seemed  and entered third standard and  asked them questions in Maths and English and there was a boy who was ready with an answer for all his queries. The man was so thrilled with his intelligence that he took the boy to the high school and admitted him in first form!! (now called sixth standard). I was very proud of the news since he was my younger brother!!( That there was a problem regarding age as he reached SSLC and sorting it out was another cup of tea!)

A historical event took place when I was at school. On 26thof January 1950 our country became a republic and the patriotic and cultured place of  Kumbakonam left no stone unturned to make it a grand occasion. From our school we had prepared for two dances relating to the Indian republic. It was to take place in the town hall. Our teacher Arokiasamy was the uncrowned leader of music and dance around the place and in the evening after the school would take us to his house which was nearby and his wife always welcomed us with fried ground nuts and helped in perfecting our performance too!

On that day of celebration  we walked with our teacher who first took us to a hotel, indeed a revelation in a land  of 'JUST HOUSE FOOD AND NOTHING ELSE'! The snacks were so tasty that we were imitating  a cow chewing the cud !!

 The patriotic fervour was running high in those days and it was no surprise that after some months it was followed  a singing competition on the songs of great patriotic Tamil poet  Bharathiar  for the elementary school children of the town. And of course our teacher was among the first few who  consented to participate in the event.

 Two students from each school could participate in the competition And it was taking place in a school called Saraswathi Patasala  (patasala is school).

On the day of the event our teacher took me and another girl but the biggest disappoint was  that there was no stoppage at the hotel and it was straight to the venue.

 The competition began in right earnest. As I had already told you that the town of Kumbakonam was a highly cultured one and the students who took part were adept at singing since most of them were learning Carnatic music at home!! They sat down in the proper pose and keeping the rhythmic beat with their right hand started singing!! Watching this new phenomena both of us were awe struck,  shivering in our shoes!!  My friend was very definite that she would not participate and feigned giddiness to convince the teacher!

I was cursing my teacher. When the whole lot was singing to a system I would be just the one to do it differently. I remembered the circus we used to attend in the grounds opposite to this school where the trapeze  artists enthralled us with their skillful performance  and the clown came in between with his silly frolics! I imagined the singers as those  great artists and I as the clowning brat!

Yes, my name was called. I climbed the stage in a daze. Luckily no one was asking me  if I was going to sit for the song.  As the teacher had taught me I started my song standing up and with great emotional zeal dancing like monkey!!

After the incredulous show I stuck myself closest to the teacher. Holding his with my shivering hand I asked

"Shall we go home?"

"Let us wait for the results" he said

His greediness was indeed sky high!

The announcement came at last

" Kamalini of Banadurai school gets the first prize." Heavy claps filled the hall.

And then it was followed by second and third prizes.

"And there is a candidate  who sang and danced."

I was literally sinking unto the earth.... What sort of rebuke  was I going to get amidst this  large crowd  for defying the rules?

"If  Bharathi the great poet is here today he would have sung it like this little girl...... dancing and emoting and never ever sitting down. The spirit of Bharathi was very well brought out by her. And so the special prize from the judges goes to Margaret Rosario of Little Flower school!

My teacher lifted me up to the stage and for the second time I was into a daze 0n the stage!

Gold That Went for Education

"Mam, just now I received the message. Got a girl baby."

I congratulated him but keeping in mind the Indian preference for a male child I asked him "Are you happy?"

"Male or female, no regrets madam." he replied. But I don't understand  the Indian mentality of amassing gold for the female child. While equal educational opportunity was generously provided for me and my sisters, the acquisition of gold started in right earnest from day be it the naming ceremony, around the age of seven 'lamp lighting ceremony', and a grand one when the girl comes of age. All these functions are just the pretext for the collection the precious metal. Would you believe that they are  named Thangam and Kanchana (implying gold)? Even our sweet nothing words when we cuddle the baby goes "my gold..... my diamond..... and so on ." My colleague really wondered!

'Gold consumption' is part of India's culture and tradition and the country is the world's largest consumer of gold, followed by China. It is a universal phenomenon across income classes.

Indian households hold 24,000 tonnes of gold which represents 11% of the global stock and according to year 2012 valuation worth more than $1.6 trillion!

Has the booming Indian literacy rate  brought about a change in the  Indian attitude?

Not an inch!! The highly literate  state of  Kerala in India is the largest consumer of gold!

But this unparalleled  asset is just a perceived or notional one in the sense that the households refuse to part with even a gram of it  for any necessity or any other kind of profitable investments!

It is presumed to be a real fall in the status of a family if gold items are sold.

A newly married man was discussing with  his wife  about buying a plot which was coming cheap through a known source and asked her if she could give some of her jewels. He continued that  along with his savings  they could buy the place for themselves and the plot could be registered in her name. He also promised that they could buy  ornaments with new designs  with his future savings. But what happened in the process was a big jolt to the man.

The whole family from her mother's side were up in arms against the poor chap!

"Did we give the jewels for our daughter for you to dispose them for your whims and fancies? What happens to the prestige of our family if she goes  to the temples, functions and weddings bare necked empty handed? If she does not wear all the sixty sovereigns  she would be laughing stock of the whole family. Beg borrow or steal we don't care but never ever touch our girl's jewel."

This unanticipated assault threw the boy off his balance and that was the day when he promised to himself never ever to open his mouth regarding her jewels. That plot  today is a  large three floor apartment worth multifold of all her gold possessions and  no one really knows if the girl is remorse about her  erroneous judgment and the dead assets she guards with her life!

 When a grandmother asked her grandchild what would she do when she died  anticipating an emotional reply the girl cooed  "In that case grandma, can I have your gold necklace studded with diamonds and the matching bangles?"

The thirst for gold I think  is very much in our genes!

Our mother used to tell us this funny story. When she got married and went with her husband to a village where he was the headmaster of a middle school  the ladies were in awe to see her wearing gold bangles. In that village it seemed ladies wore only glass bangles however rich they were. They believed that  since hands were often used  the wear and tear of the gold would be heavy and thus a waste of the precious metal!  But the craze for a gold ornament in their hands on the great occasion of their wedding was too tempting for the brides to be of the village that my mother was hesitantly approached for her gold bangles for the occasion, which of course she  generously parted with.  What started as a  diffident request gained the status of a custom and  my mother's bangles became the mandatory adornment  for all the village weddings!

When we were young our numerous maternal uncles got married and the brides  came in with plenty of gold jewelry. During family functions and weddings they would  deck us with fancy hairdo with plenty of  jasmines  and adorn us with one of their gold necklaces.  With the gold adorning our necks we felt like princesses for the occasion and our happiness index was at its zenith for the day! In our big family of six girls it was impossible for our mother to deck all of us with gold!

When  I got married and landed in dear old Calcutta in the late sixties I was surprised to see girls with  empty necks  and unpierced ears  which was unheard of in the Tamilian circle.  

"What a wonderful freedom these Bengali girls enjoy?" I mused

As youngsters whenever we went  out to play mother's routine advice was " Take care of the ear stud, tighten the screws." We accepted her advice just at the face value and  the occurrence of  loss was inevitable in the family of six daughters! And there would be general ban on outdoor games for the whole lot of girls at least for a few days while the boys were scot free to enjoy their evenings as usual. In this wonderful land of Bengal I was determined to give my little  daughter this beautiful freedom which was beyond my reach!

When we came back to dear old Madras with our seven year old daughter's unpierced ears  it was indeed  a scandal and the goldsmith was ordered to come  home and the piercing ceremony took place without the usual fanfare!!

While gold was harsh on some people like the newly married man in our narration gold in our house had a entirely different role to play! All of a sudden my mother's chain would be missing from her neck. When enquired she would say it had gone to school. Her statement baffled us at our childhood about the sort of school the jewels would go  our youth taught us  that the jewels were pawned for some urgency what with  six girls and four boys  in various stages of academics and marriageable age !

Our parents of the lower middle class were idealists who believed in giving good education to all their children without  sex bias. But this decision kept them in ever present monetary pressure which they bore with great equanimity! 

Even today  I remember this incident vividly since it happened in my life when I was in a prestigious college in Madras pursuing my PG course staying in the hostel. I remember paying my hostel fees always with fine but on that particular month there was no sign of the usual money order even after the month was over . I was served a warning by the warden. I was ashamed, I was angry, I was worried. Had my letter reached home..? Was any one sick at home? But they know my mess bill had to be paid....... As my thoughts were running wild   my money order arrived at last.

When I went home for the vacation  the usual happy hug of my mother  was waiting for me but my reciprocity lacked the  warmth. Was I not put into shame in front of my college mates by their negligence to send the money on time? 

One of my sisters who could not hold a secret from me whispered to me " You know your mess bill was sent by selling her precious mangal sutra ornaments."

The enormity of the  shame that engulfed me was unparalleled . The nobility of the person who gave me the smiling hug in spite of her many problems shines as the load star of my life!!

Celebrating Birth of humaneness

It was a hard existence for the car driver living in the mountains with a big family and single earning. When there was no demand for his vehicle from the tourists or on unseasonal lull his helplessness transformed into anger towards the family

Added to his woes of low earning he was enticed by a VIP of the town to buy his car so that he could become a car owner. The man fell for the trap and borrowed money to pay for the car. Apart from the amount paid, the driver was asked to pay the monthly dues for the loan the man had taken towards his car. For his part the seller didn't bother to provide any legal document to prove that after the bank dues were paid the vehicle would belong to him. The poor man solidly relied in human sincerity and also did not have the courage to ask for a document.

With the dwindling income he was in deep trouble with the bank and had to borrow money even for day to day expenses. As an appendage the expenses for great festival of Christmas were looming large in the horizon what with the festive expectations of his children. The accumulated frustrations had pushed the man to his nadir.

As on every day morning dressed in his white uniform he waited hoping against hope for a ride. “Is every one's life such a pile of tribulations?” he ruminated.

At that moment a tall man with a head full of white hair belying his age accosted him.

"My daughter in law is very sick......  We are taking her to her mother's place. Is your vehicle air conditioned...? Is it good for a long distance drive?" he said

With an enthusiastic affirmation from him they settled over the rate for a to and fro trip.

"He is indeed a good customer." the driver thought "Taking me along for the meals on the way and providing tea at regular intervals lest I fall asleep. And his wife is also a pleasant lady full of vigour.”

The settlement was handsome and soon he became the regular driver for the couple.

 Yet with all the good will whatever he earned was like a drop in the ocean.

One day morning as he was waiting at their house he saw the couple blessing the gardener and handing over a gift to him. When he enquired, the gardener proudly said that it was his birthday today.

"Celebrating a worker's birthday.......?  Impossible and unheard of...!" the driver was astounded.

"Do you know that they have a list of all the estate workers and their families' birthdays and other auspicious days and it is  hung in their room?" The gardener happily announced.

“Would you believe if I say that they got jerkins for all of us when they returned from their America trip? They are good people who can treat everyone as a respectable human being."

Hearing this the driver thought "Then I must be  lucky to drive for such noble couple though it was just on and off!"  His esteem for them rose sky high.

 He was behind them whenever they went for shopping never allowing them to carry the bags. If they went out to buy saplings he took them to the right place.  With his assistance they bought the best of honey, unadulterated peppers straight from the owners' orchard. By and by the relationship grew and he considered it a blessing to be in their company!

One day as they were returning from the town, down in the planes, the car stopped in the middle of the mountain road. The driver and the man got down to check and found out that it was a major repair.  With the help from the ongoing vehicle drivers they managed to tow the car to a mechanic shop.

After a week when the driver was called for duty by the couple they found out that his cell phone was switched off. One of the workers who lived near his house  told him that he was at home for the past few days but he couldn't  give any more detail.

 That man might not know that the lender from whom he borrowed came and shouted at him with unutterable words and set a time  for the dues to be paid. And the bank people were behind his back for the monthly repayment.

His wife was furious.

"When you were working on a rental basis we at least had the peace of mind. Now owing the car had landed us into unwanted problems.  Never in our lives have we heard such lowly words used  against us.

 Let us sell this house and pay the dues and go back to our village.  I cannot bear the shouts of that rogue once more.."  she emphatically said.

Meanwhile the couple decided to visit the driver. May be he was very sick. The house was dark  with no heating to keep off the cold. Covered in a blanket the driver was sitting in a corner with his head held between his knees. He got the shock of his life when he saw the couple and shot up!

“Sir………. Sir ….. Amma … amma …. “ No other word could come out of his mouth.

“We were worried” the lady said “Your cell phone was switched off….Where is your car? Haven’t you yet repaired it?"

“Amma ........it will be repaired in a few days."

His wife who was listening blurted out "Amma  please don't believe his words. The lender came and threatened him regarding the repayment of the loans and told that he would confiscate his house in lieu of their loan and the bank people too were coercing him regarding their dues."

"But why has he taken so many loans?"

The whole story cascaded down with great force!

Consoling them and handing over some cash they came back home.

The couple could feel the pain of deception and poverty of the family.

“In spite of all his problems the driver was giving us a great service with a smiling face and not a single word regarding his problems!” The lady was surprised.

“It shows the goodness in him.” The man said ” But as of now he is indeed in a Medusa’s tangle which has to be sorted out stage by stage.”

As a first step they decided to  get the car repaired which was the tool for his existence.

 With great effort and help from the influential local people they legalized the possession of the car.

 Their generous heart enabled them to repay all the loans which carried lot of interest and requested him to repay just the principal amount on a monthly basis.

The driver couldn’t believe the miracle that is happening in front of his eyes…….!

“Am I worthy of so many gifts Lord?” He blurted out!

“How could I repay this generosity? “He wondered!

On cold morning they found the whole family waiting in the portico and as the couple wondered what was happening they fell flat on the ground and wouldn’t get up till they were raised!

“You are the personification of God.”  With folded hands and uncontrollable tears the driver said “No…..  No……. No….   I am not right ……….you are the God.”

“Never ever say that.” The man said “We are God’s children.”

It was indeed the best Christmas for the family!

The driver’s family became their own and best part of the couple’s Deepavali celebration was inviting them for the grand lunch.

And there is no need to say that the family became part of couple's 'Wonder List' hanging in their room!

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p.s. We are indeed proud to be associated with such people who carry the values of life as their prime priority!!

A Noble Teacher ever Remembered

This happened in a small town surrounded by villages and as there were no schools worth their salt around this location, the parents sent their children to the town schools. Hence in the late fifties it was the school and it's teachers who ruled the roost and the illiterate parents used to tell the teachers to mindless torture  in case, any child lagged behind in the studies. “We are an ignorant lot" they would lament "at least let our sons go for a government job earning good money." There was also a conservative minority who thought that plenty of theoretical exercise and bookish knowledge was a waste and hard work combined with working knowledge of literacy was good enough for life.

As a consequence a teacher carrying sturdy cane along with the text book to the class was the order of the day! On that particular day the students were waiting for their Tamil teacher to enter the class. Severe and stern to look at, he was the terror of the truants and those who massacred the mother tongue with their rustic slang!

An unlucky boy from a nearby village had committed both of these heinous crimes of truancy as well as a vernacularly challenged behaviour. The profoundly upset teacher beat him blue and black and the boy was bleeding and had a limp as an add-on. Another blow from the teacher was his last straw. The student blurted out “My dad will come and take care of you properly” he shouted “Have you heard of Pakkiri of Rajapuram.....? His knife had seen more blood than what I have shed today and he will surely take care of you in a suitable manner….you....... " Uttering that unspeakable word casually he ran out the class.

Yes, the boys from that village had heard of this notorious man who revelled in using his knife at the drop of the hat! Hesitantly they came near their teacher to vouch that there were a few lucky one legged and single handed men in their area and one or two unlucky ones safe in their heavenly abode!  None in the village had had the audacity to reprimand or annoy him.” Keep off the rouge’s way” was the motto around the locality!

That man didn't want his son to study further and wanted him to follow his trade making money easily. But it was his wife who put her foot down and convinced him to send the boy to school.

 The Tamil teacher went numb with fear. The daily report from the boys of the man cursing him and sharpening his big knife further heightened his anguish and he decided to take the matter to the higher ups.

After verifying the facts about the man the principal called for an emergency staff meeting with the Tamil teacher literally shivering in his pants.  After advising the teachers to use their cane sparingly the pros and cons were discussed. At the end it was decided that they would go the ‘Gandhian’ way of peaceful negotiation.

But who was to bell the cat?

“Can we send the concerned teacher to his house to apologise?” was one suggestion

The Tamil teacher had a panic attack at the proposal. He declared that he would rather resign then and there than to encounter that horror." If not today I can always get a job but, not my life back." he declared emphatically

Then one among the teacher said “I will make a try.”

The teachers were bewildered with this offer. They all knew that he had a big family of young children and what if something untoward happened to this fool hardy man?! Was he after some vain glory?!

He landed in the village in his Hercules cycle as though on a holiday. The house of the notorious character was not big but neatly painted in terracotta colour. He thought that this reddish tinge didn’t auger well for the purpose of his visit. But seeing the boy playing in the portico was indeed a good omen (instead of lying in the bed) and the immediate absence of the man, at least near the doorway, portended well. The boy, seeing the teacher, ran inside and was pulling his reluctant mother to come outside, all the time shouting ‘teacher … teacher’. She was frightened at the site of a tall man standing at her door step and suddenly pulled her son away from that man! But the word 'sir' teacher aroused her immensely and she started shouting   "You…….you beat my son, made him bleed and now you are standing at my door step. If you care for your life run away from here before my husband comes to tear you apart." The boy tried to pacify his angry mother and ran and held the teacher's hand.

By this time the other boys studying in the school from this locality gathered around the teacher.

"Amma”, said the son,..... “He is our good teacher. Ask the other boys. Will they come to see him if he is bad?" You know he can draw the whole world map in five minutes….. Would you like to see it amma? He is a big teacher ….. He can do it in our front wall...please amma….. Then I can draw the world like my teacher……”

“Yes amma…. The other children sang in a chorus…. The world map will be a nice decoration to the house!”

 The manner in which the children were clinging to this teacher made the lady wonder and she requested him to sit in the veranda and went inside to bring a mug of butter milk, the normal courtesy in  villages those days.

This man had the habit of having sweets in one of his pant pockets and chalks in the other. He looked at the terracotta wall….

“This is my good fortune.” he happily mused. “The terracotta wall which frightened me has become my ally now in a beautiful contrast with  my white chalk!” As he distributed the sweets to the children he called them around and started drawing the map of the Americas. The map progressed with the children identifying the countries and the capitals! The village had gathered around in to look at this wonderment!

In the meantime the father of the boy arrived in his full regalia. Before he could fathom the situation and the gathering in front of his house his wife ran to him and pulling him aside started talking to him, with great many hand gestures implying some sort of warning. A man however strong he is has his own Achilles heel and in this case it turned out to be his better half!!

When he wished the teacher with folded hands the teacher was thoroughly flabbergasted, surprised at the miracle that was happening before his eyes!

The story indeed ended well with proper explanation of how concerned the Tamil teacher was in his son’s education and an offer from our teacher to send the boy to his house for free tuitions in the morning! The father was well pleased and reprimanded his son for his truancy and lack of attention in the class.

Now the scene shifts from the fifties incident to a current episode in 2017!

One of this teacher’s grandson interested, now involved in organic farming and interested in in greening his town, was looking for open spaces to plant traditional trees. When he went to meet the concerned official in the government department, there was an elderly man who also waiting. As they were chatting the talk turned towards the family and when the boy informed about his father the man got up and,  affectionately folding of both his hands with great reverence, exclaimed that he was the student of his grandfather and his son was the student of his father. “But for your grandfather our village will not be what it is today. People still talk about him. If he sees a person smoking he would offer him a sweet and with a pep talk request him to go off the habit. He knew all the families and would smoothly sort out any problem of any house hold. He was beyond the staunch adherence of the caste system of the villages and accosted all the male members as raja (king) so much so that he himself was called “Raja sir”

This stranger at the government office could not be stopped. “If there are so many educated people with great values in the village today, the credit solely goes to your grandfather. My dear boy if you go to any village around here you can be sure of the repetition this same story! You are indeed a lucky man!” He exclaimed.

The grandson couldn’t believe what he had heard and wondered how this was possible after more than fifty years! He was just an ordinary teacher but how could he metamorphose into an enigma par excellence holding the place in the heart of people? He was a handsome six footer but all the handsome men didn’t achieve it? His sincerity……?  All the sincere men didn’t accomplish it. He is still a mystery, an enigma, yet a morning star ever guiding humanity.

And the young man interested in tree planting was none other than my nephew and the noble teacher is my dad.  I am sure that those good genes would  continue through his progenies  in varied form to enrich of our society!

Modern Columbus in Search for Spices

We were indeed surprised to see our friends! They were on a six month's tour of USA, where their bachelor son was working in a software company, but within a month they were at our door steps

What happened? Was it some emergency medical problem…..? Was it the cold climate…? We were anxious.

“Don't worry. In America your friend simply refused to move out of our son’s house......” my friend’s husband said.

Contrary to his statement my friend belonged to a distinctive genre. Like a genie she would present herself at my house for any outing request ere my cell phone lost its heat!  Both of us had travelled in the Bharath Dharshan special train covering North India. Last year it was to Kolkata to my friend's house during Durga Pooja where we visited umpteen number of Pooja pandals getting blessed copiously tasting varieties of chats on the streets of Kolkata uncaring for the tender stomach lining!  And it was when we were planning for an artistic experience to Shantiniketan that their son sent a ticket to the USA and they were off for a six month sojourn.

"It is a big story indeed...." my friend's husband started.

"Our son was extremely happy to see us after a long break.  He wanted show us the wonders of his adopted country especially his mother and as an inaugural treat told his mother “Ma, today we are going out for dinner to a renowned restaurant  and guess what ?! It is your favourite item.... fish and more fish! You are in for a surprise!" he said. In my wife’s imagination the authentic Karaikudi's and Amaravathi's type of restaurants should have been doing a Russian ballet.

"Will you please stop ......" my friend told her husband, the narrator "I will continue the story from here lest you provide a very distorted version of the whole happening."

She continued the episode, "As we entered the expensive looking restaurant I witnessed plenty of fish tanks and appreciated the great ambience this  fish  restaurant had created! We took our seats ably assisted by the attendant who handed us the menu card which said

"PICK THE FISH OF YOUR CHOICE FROM OUR TANKS"

"Mum and dad please come and choose the fish you like."

Our son lead us towards the tanks. I was under the impression that the fish in the tanks were similar to the fancy ones some homes have and this high end fish restaurant indeed deserved such a decor. But now I didn't like the idea of choosing. Innocently ordering something off the menu was one thing but being asked to exercise an executive decision over which creature should die tonight in the interest of my palate was entirely different and definitely not up my alley!

 I called my son aside and told him to pick any fish he knew well and I wanted it to be fried.  You know in our (Indian ) culinary custom the process of cooking  fish consisted of  a long one of cleaning the slices, removing the scales properly, rubbing it with salt and turmeric powder and washing it again  and then adding adequate masalas and allowing it to soak till the masala atoms  engulfed the tiniest  atoms of fish and cooked in slow fire. So I guessed from the time of catching your chosen fish with a little scooping net and taken to the kitchen for preliminary procedures and then to the frying pan would take at least an hour. But it was not to be. Before I could say 'jiffy' the server brought before me a big plate of assorted vegetables, leaves  and boiled potato on which a whole fish sat glaring at me with its big eyes like a haughty king in a royal procession! I shuddered! One sliver of that fish unto my mouth was enough to remind me of my early months of pregnancy and taking my son’s hand for guidance I ran to the rest room where my innards were somersaulting towards my mouth!

"And then it was the turn of the lamb chops experiment  which my son said could equal in taste of  her own gastronomic  specialty." The husband continued. "But in the plate was a huge chops which my wife said was beef, nothing but beef! "

"Ma in this place this sort of cheating is impossible. They would seal the restaurant  for ever if they were bluffing." my son said "You know America is a real fertile country. Look at the people here. We look like Lilliputians in their midst. So too are their animals. I can very well vouch that it is a lamb and not a cow." Nervously I poked the stuff but again it was a marathon race to the rest room.

"I didn't vomit." I declared triumphantly "But it stinks."

"Would you try some salad?"

"Only goats eat leaves."

"Some vegetables?"

"Am I a patient to eat boiled vegetables!?"

"So this vicious circle of varied American food brought on to the point of starvation except when we were lucky enough to locate an Indian restaurant....." her husband went on. Our son had taken a long leave to take his spirited mum around the country. But in mid-American plains, spending the nights in the motels, where do we locate her choice eateries? Like her daily morning prayer her first request to her son turned out to be finding an Indian place for at least one meal!

 I wondered if Columbus had such a fervent intention when he was on his search voyage to find out India as my wife! His search for India landed him in the Americas . But my wife landing herself in America was trying to find out the taste of Indian spices in this far away land!!" Her paradise turned out to be the vegetarian Saravana Bhavans and their ilk." He laughed

"You are very right "I intervened" The intention of both Columbus and my friend carries a great similarity where ever their search was. Columbus wanted to find the sea route to India for its valuable spices and so too is my friend....!!"

 "It is very true." said the husband  At the end it was bread and a bottle of hottest Indian mango pickle which came in handy. But with this diet her stomach went for a sixer and she had to rely on ice creams, biscuits and their fellow beings. But after a while she refused to take them too "My mouth feel sour and funny ." she declared.

One look at her could tell me a big story, her healthy glow was gone and her enthusiasm to see places dwindled. I called my son and told him "Don't worry about the extra expense of cancelling the ticket and buying a new return ticket. Your mother's health is important." The boy was sad but there was no other option. He was holding her hand till we reached the check in point at the airport. "My dear boy" the  thoroughly upset lady said "Even in India there are many software companies offering big salary. Why should you suffer this horrible food in this God forsaken place? Come back home."

On hearing this pleading request, his glum demeanour changed and he started laughing." Ma I am working in a company where you can talk in  Tamil and joke in Tamil.  And if an American comes into our office  our standard joke is .."Hey some foreigner is coming . Go find out what he wants!!". We have Deepavali and Pongal holidays and restricted holidays for Avani Avittam for changing the sacred thread is also thrown in as a bonus! And you know ma, every day there is some Indian food on the lunch table and we bachelors get preference over the rest and most weekends and on festival days  we get together at one of our friends' house to enjoy Indian food and goodwill!”

His mother thought for a while and this time she happily called her husband " Next time he comes home his marriage is a done thing. ”She boarded the flight, a contended woman!"

"If you come across some a good girl please inform us" the husband said.

"Of course we will look for a well-educated girl from a good family." I replied

 "But the girl has to fulfill extras criterion too..." He laughed......" You very well know your friend is a post graduate!!" he said sarcastically and handing me a bag full of Hershey they took leave feeling great and contended in our own Indian soil!!