LESSONS FROM A YOUNG TEACHER

A hectic day was in progress and temperatures were rising. Even as I battled to maintain cool, a young visitor emerged with a sunny smile. One look at the young boy led to a sea change in the atmospherics. I rose and in a couple of steps we were in each others arms. 

As I exchanged notes with him, my mind raced nostalgically to his younger encounters with me. But the memory of our last meeting kept resurfacing. The boy had lost his father which was a rude shock to us and we had gathered in a vain attempt to provide solace to the bereaved. Imagine this young tiny tot who was still in his single digits by age, taking me through the events of his father's demise even as he lay motionless. It was one of those rare occasions when the eyes of yours truly went moist and was rendered speechless. The only thing that was spoken to the young lad was a real hug more as a measure to control my emotions than to console him. Reprimanding the grieving and telling them to learn from the young lad, we left for our homes. The truth was those statements were in reality directed at yours truly but spoken out to others.

A couple of telephonic conversations were all we had exchanged in the interim period but there was no gaps in our communication. He instantly picked threads and we just left the rest of them speechless with our banter. The boy was giving me another lesson of life- "Move on". Glad for him and absorbing the subtle lessons he imparted to me, I bid goodbye to him extracting a word that he would drop in someday with the rest of his family.

His name spells winter but he has been an eternal spring for me. Gratitude for the lessons imparted being directed in the form of warm wishes and hugs for him, I look forward for this young teacher to initiate me in more ways than one.

CONNECTIONS OR CROSS CONNECTIONS?

I was in search of an accomodation and a lady colleague had located one. After paying a visit and negotiating the terms with the landlord we stopped by at a restaurant for a breakfast. Locating a free table was in itself an arduous task. As I wondered whether we could give the breakfast a skip, we found a table which was occupied on one side by a lady and a young kid savouring poories. A quick decision was made to occupy the other side of the table.

Orders placed for the breakfast and being intimated that it would take some time, we exchanged notes. It did not take long for us to intervene in the discussion between the child and the lady. The kid initially warmed upto my colleague. Turning on my best charms, I invited the kid for a competition. The novel competition would ensure that the loser would end up at the kitchen of the hotel. The quick thinker in the kid was on display in a trice as he transferred a couple of poories to his mother's plate. Excitedly, merely shades below the Eureka act, I cried that he was cheating. Blissfully into the world of the child, the real world around was given a go by. The dishes arrived and the conversation warmed up. There was coaxing, cajoling and a display of fast consumption to drive the kid to finish his breakfast.

Instead, he slowly switched sides, manouvred to hold our hands and thereafter block us from rising to wash. Our other duties were put on hold as the primary task of ensuring that the kid had his fill. Soon the time for parting ways dawned. But the kid had other plans. He tagged on to us and left his mother in a dilemma. He took my number on to his mother's cell and clung on. Even as I tried to shift him onto the Bolero his mother had brought, he clambered out and rushed to the two wheeler parked by my friend. After a couple of trips, we achieved the goal of parting with tears in the eyes of the kid and our minds heavy with thoughts. Were we right in denying the kid the warmth he desired innocently? Were we hypocrites in not reciprocating undiluted warmth ? The kid had given us everything he could - the unparalleled affection with no strings attached and as adults who lay claim to maturity and reason, we unceremoniously disconnected ourselves and distanced ourselves for eternity. 

It was in one of those mystical books maybe the Monk who sold the Ferrari or the Alchemist that I had read about time and connections which have an internal meaning. Was this the connection the author referred to? One thing is certain, I did not understand the mystical connection nor utilised the window of opportunity given to establish the connection. Another occasion that will keep me ruminating for years to come. 

A couple of days later I was journeying on a train and had a gurkha and his family for company. His wife, a son aged two years and another aged 8 months were with him. Even as they were trying to rein the elder one in , the younger one attempted to chew into a ripped up portion of the window pane and started bleeding. I immediately asked whether anyone had cold water with them. The father pulled out one cold water bottle and poured the chilled contents into the lid. The numbing effect was great and the kid pulled the bottle and rested it on its lips. The sensibility displayed by the kid could be passed off as a survival instinct but it did marvel me. Connecting the two, I patted the kid on its cheeks to elicit a bright smile - minutes after it was hurt. A lesson was learnt- put the bitter things behind yourself to savour the joys of life. 

The meaning of the first connection still befuddles me. Any answers???

LET'S PLAY CRICKET GENTLEMAN

“ It’s cricket, gentleman” used to be a way of reprimanding a person to be fair in any sphere. The “Test” of fairness was dealt a bodyblow in an Anglo Aussie series which in itself was considered a blot on the fair name of the gentleman’s game. The innovation in the form of one dayers and whetting up the appetite of blitzkrieg seekers by twenty twenty has ensured that the game is no more gentleman’s forte but more of a gladiators’ game watched by the mirthful spectators. It’s therefore not a wonder that the people have reduced them to be on par with the horses on a racetrack or pieces in a game of dice. Irony is that the cricketers instead of expressing anguish or ire at being treated as gladiators or racehorses have ventured to be part of the betting syndrome with a vengeance to rake in the moolah for the gross reduction in their human stature.

Money is a mere instrument of transaction created by man. Should the creator of the instrument become a slave of the instrument? Should not we distinguish ourselves from the primal instinct to treat fellow humans as objects of pleasure? Is this not an act that would compare with the bestial pleasure of prostitution or the beastly act of two gladiators contesting for the pleasure of the cowardly spectators or a gladiator battling a rogue beast as a matador battles a bull?  Whither is the evolution of man as a human being?

The sport being reduced to a vice of gambling on the honour of a fellow human indicates the nadir of ethical values to which humans have unabashedly reached. It is time to redeem ourselves and free ourselves from the vice of gambling for a few pieces of currency. It is an undoubted fact that the money that we gather accumulates foes and fetches envy while the goodwill of a person remains intact and grows with time. This fact was reinforced in me at the funeral of a senior citizen who remained the eternal gentleman to his last days. The man was a genial father to his children and a warm uncle to their friends. He had the generosity to part with the bare minimum savings a small sum as pocket money for the school trips even for these friends. He literally walked the earth and a distance of 5 to 6 miles was walkable for this affable gentleman. He ensured that the guests to his home were well entertained and took the right mode of conveyance for their return. The Walker’s last breath was accosted by persons from his early friends to latest acquaintances taunting death for having befriended this man. The best tribute came from his own brother who without batting an eyelid said, “ Here goes a true gentleman.” He had indeed been a true gentleman who had ensured that his grieving family received the solace from teeming numbers.

It was indeed a wakeup call to ensure that one starts treating money with the respect it deserves, nothing more or nothing less. Respect to fellow human beings is a virtue that needs to be cultivated to save the society from degenerating further and reach the bottomless pit. Gen Y can do it but let us at least begin instilling these values in Gen Z as a token contribution to atone the sins of degenerating thus. Are the Sreesanths possible without us? Can bookies exist without punters? Let us heed to this danger signal before it is too late. The entrails have been infested and it is time to start the healing process by reverting to the ethical ways of life.

COUNTDOWN TO THE REUNION

The addiction to blogging in me is akin to the waxing and the waning of the moon. There were long periods when the blog was spared an addition and sometimes within short spans of time a series of blog have hit the cyberspace. This is one such occasion of the latter kind.

Couple of days back yours truly was pleasantly surprised by an overseas call of an "old" pal (aside: if he happens to read this blog, the pun is intended). The day passed on quite strangely with more interactions with friends through the day. By the end of the day, there was a feeling of an undeclared friendship day celebrated specially for me.

Ruminating over the moments of undiluted happiness that yours truly shared through these conversations, the mailbox was opened to find an invitation to pen out for a souvenir for the reunion of our college. Memories of the days when we used to travel by the then fabled BTS and the walk through the serene roads to the granite faced college building just swept past without any prodding. The days used to begin with an informal gathering outside the college with the bicycles parked by students who did not wish to use the parking lot or were not regular cyclists. An appetiser in the form of exchange of notes in groups would energise the folks to enter the portals of the college to recite the prayer in unison(?) In hindsight, one wonders as to whether the students were asked to actually pray for the welfare of the faculty. More so that we too are sometimes a faculty and can feel the vibes generated by ourselves as students.

The first day at college was memorable. It happened to be a Wednesday which had classes scheduled only in the afternoon. Unaware of this, we had made a beeline to the college and were only in sync with some of our known friends from our earlier alma mater or localities. The lunch was spent on a loaf of bread and as we lined into the classroom, we were directed by a young lecturer to introduce ourselves. As fresher after fresher introduced himself or herself, the "lecturer" burst into laughter exposing his real status of being a degree student much to the chagrin of all. The reward was in the form of a "let off". It did not take much time for us to bond ourselves into friendships which have stood the test of time.

The interesting facet of our batch was that we also blooded a new faculty member and he too remains one with us till date. He also brought with him a chuckle and the inimitable "Good Day" greeting. The stairways of the college also were symbolic to indicate that though we came from streams apart, we joined only to part and re unite. This is what all of us are waiting for.  Jubilee celebrations of the graduation is scheduled in August and the countdown has begun. The hard work of the core team would not be let down by the rest.  Even persons who have been chosen by eternity are not going to miss the event. 

As we wait for the reunion day we should reminisce the dreams we shared in childhood days of being an engine driver, a bus conductor or a cop which slowly but surely was redefined and moulded into professions which suited our aptitudes. Time has been kind to us and we will not miss this opportunity of treasuring this moment.Yes! It is time to say Ten, nine, eight ,seven, six, five, four, three, two , one - BLAST !!!

A BLUNDER UNCOVERED

The reposting of the deleted blog which was enabled by a chum of mine partially and the anonymous reader led to further churning of thoughts leading to this blog. Unfortunately, the word "churning" does not convey the same meaning of "Manthan" which is a typical Indian word. It is undoubtedly true that the words used by the reader were not quoted correctly or construed correctly. The words only pointed to me that a deed for the sake of the happiness of a friend should not be viewed only in the light of one's own perceptions. A point that had to be well taken but had in the heat of the moment been construed to point out the self centred attitude. In fact, it is the latter act which probably exposed the self centred belief that yours truly was not self centred.

It is said that Time is the best healer. Time has indeed taught me that every word is worth its weight in gold or may be even higher. Any act or utterance of the word should not necessarily be under the belief that it affects only one person and this has been driven home quite effectively by the anonymous reader. Thanks to this person, yours truly would attempt to be more careful with the words. For the chronological record, leaving the blogs untouched for posterity to judge the author dispassionately, would serve its purpose as they reflect the author's states of mind on different dates at different points of time.

This blog is dedicated to the unseen hand of friendship which has aided me in righting a wrong. At this juncture, it would be pertinent to recollect a story from the famed epic Mahabharat. In one of the scenes, the ill fated Karna is with Bhanumathi, the spouse of Duryodhana. As Duryodhana enters the room, Bhanumathi rises and her necklace is caught in the hands of Karna resulting in the same breaking. The beads roll across the floor. The unassuming approach of Duryodhana, who is actually Suyodhana, is exhibited by his remarks  "Shall I pick the beads or shall I string them?" This reflects the fact that even for a moment he did not have a questioning thought of either his wife or his friend. May be yours truly should also follow the same.

It is a settled fact that some read or hear once, grasp, chew and digest whilst there are some others who need to write to assimilate and others who repeat the process to assimilate a portion of the studied material. The last category requires the Panchatantra treatment of being taught through similarities. Time will judge in which category the author could be fit into.

Let the judgement go on and all comments are most welcome to mould opinions, views and most of all the personality of several people. Go ahead!!! no holds barred.

UNIONS REUNIONS AND JOYS

This was a post which was erroneously deleted and is referred to in NANNy'S DAY. An anonymous reader had commented that the piece revealed the self centred attitude of the blogger. Luckily the exact words were mailed to me by the reader and is reproduced here

" A friend is not a person who need not ask you to do only what you like to do. U can also do something to please ur friend.  Friendship is mutual.  You need not hold on to ur opinions as always being right." READ ON

It was one of the celestially blessed days divined by the mortals to unite two souls
in matrimony and one of those few occasions to which I made since the groom in
question desired my presence on sentimental counts. Lost in the crowd attired in
glistening zari works to three piece suits, men and women of various age groups
were lost in their few luxurious moments of socializing before marking their
attendance with the new couple. Children true to their innocence were splashing
around and admiring themselves on the CCTV. Occasions and functions being
a far cry to yours truly, the antics of the children kept me engrossed. Soon some
acquaintances warmed up and attempted to make me comfortable as I made the
way to the dias. Thoughts clamoured my mind as to whether the newly wed would
be engrossed in their new marital status or new found love or in the photographer
and cameraman directing them to strike poses with a ‘cheese’. It made me wonder
as to whether the whole charade could be restricted to the parents and siblings of
the twosome giving them space to themselves. As these thoughts fitted through,
the crowds had successfully jostled me to the dias. Greetings exchanged with
pleasantries and wishes for happiness and prosperity showered, the interruption
came in the form of the photographer taking charge to place us in an order of
his choice for a memento. Couple of flashbulbs later, as we attempted to move, a
deft hand directed us to the dining hall which was a sea of humanity. The ritual
of tossing a sweet through to the vitals being through I made my way out. The
experience still left the question unanswered as to how torturing the two souls who contemplate a life in wedlock by making them stand endlessly greeting people around and grinning till their cheekbones melted could be termed a happy occasion for them. Discreetly pardoning myself of the offence committed, I returned home.

Few days later, it was the occasion of a ground breaking ceremony wherein much
of the fanfare was repeated. The icing on the cake was when I was called upon to
chisel out a piece of the ground for which I could only offer resistance. The crowd
there just placed the tool in my hands and the ritual was compulsorily performed
much to the delight of my should I say friends ( a dilemma considering their act)
around.

If these two were unions of sorts, the prospects of reunions of collegemates and
schoolmates started blossoming on the horizon. Joys undoubtedly come with some hassles.

Thanks to the anonymous reader to have retrieved the rest of the blog. Now I can peacefully continue blogging!

NANNY'S DAY

The reunion concept had me discussing the same when a friend of mine drew parallels to their own reunion. He shared that they had felicitated the lady who mattered most to them in their young days - the one who would guide them and had even washed their bottoms. Aamir Khan's bottoms up in Three Idiots popped up in my mind. The comment from a follower that friendship was a two way traffic on the previous blog also set me thinking. Undoubtedly in both the scenarios that I had shared it had brought smiles to the persons concerned. 

Probably, the follower mistook my discomfiture to my perceptions on socialising. The thought was more for the newly wed couple who are put through an arduous ritual in the name of religion followed by a reception wherein except for the first few moments, they are not even permitted to sit. In fact, thanks to economics, the receptions of late are held in advance on the previous evening followed by the traditional wedding. Of late, I have had occasion to share the inner feelings of many to be married fellas. Their romance brims through and seems to overflow. Why do we not allow these young fellas a few moments of peace? We also follow this up with another spate of invites for luncheons to shower our affection in the form of culinary delights. Wish this honeymoon extended for their whole lifetime that they could actually spend the intimacy which they so desire without bothering about the next cuisine to be rattled up.

At least till they are bestowed with the joys of cradling a young one. That takes us back to the bottoms of the younger days, I was reminded of our own people in life who still manage to shower affection on us irrespective of our ageing. We also do not have our blushes as we would much later in life. On one such occasion the lady in question spotted me in a crowded bus stop, came up, held me by my cheeks and took a wrap up of the events between two meetings and rebuked me for not dropping in frequently. A treasure of a relationship which even the teacher cannot rival. Yes, we have had so many days but we never have a nanny's day or in our local lingo ayah's day. They remain in each student's hearts forever. Let us felicitate them everyday and every moment!!! Thanks buddy for taking me back to those memorable days!