Festivals

Ganapathi habba is just over. One more session of collecting money,road blocks, processions, blaring microphones, same old film songs ending with a vote of thanks in an artificial, extra polite,sugar dripping voice followed by the orchestra anthem - "mathdalli melyavudo.. kuladalli keelyavudo".
But something has gone missing. On the day of the festival my friend, I, and our mothers went back in our time machine....
*public Ganapathis never existed. In the whole of Mysore two places drew everyone's attention- 101 Ganapathi in Agrahara attracted devotees and 8th cross Ganapathi in Vontikoppal attracted music lovers. The 'orchestras' have overtaken them!
*Kids went from house to house, inquiring,"Ree, Ganapathi ittiddira?" (have you kept Ganapathi?)There would be a competition among groups of children as to who visited the most number of Ganapathis. People happily tolerated them as they barged inside,put akshathe and prostrated in front of the deity. Some of them would observe the decorations and even comment.
*All doors would be open and lights switched on, expecting visitors.
*The tinkling of bells at around 9 would indicate that the Ganapathi is being given a send off.
*Some would keep the Ganapathi for 3,5, or 7 days or till Anantha Chathurdashi and immerse him in Kukkarahalli tank or in a neighbour's well.
Kukkarahalli tank in those days used to be a deserted place . But it would come alive during this season.People carrying torches and lanterns would go there in large groups immerse Ganapathi , eat puliogare and mosaranna and come home with a feeling of achievement.
*It was a chance for the artistically minded to exhibit their talents in building the mantaps for the god.The mantaps would be made using materials ranging from wood,coconut fronds, pith,injection bottles to sugar candies!The garlands made from cotton. Rangoli designs, lamps,serial lights..... everything had to be special and different!
All that is gone now!

Creativity!

I went shopping in the UK! It is a miracle that I came out with my brain intact! or....?
I have learned over the years that men create things to make their life more comfortable. So the English, who take off their shirts when the thermometer records 12degrees and declare that the summer has set in, built houses with fire places, carpeted the floor, used spoons and forks to eat, and toilet paper in the wash rooms. Their inventions did not stop there and went on to create the more......

• Morning tea- you have a pair of small tongs to squeeze the tea bag.
• You use tea powder? you have mugs fitted with perforated cups.you place the tea leaves, pour boiling water and after a few minutes of brewing,lift and take them away.
  
• Breakfast-a stand to keep the toasted bread slices.
• A small cup shaped like half an egg shell to keep the boiled egg.
• Oh! why two different pieces? here is a bread slice holder with an egg cup attached.
• Do you want poached egg? we have a small perforated cup to hold the contents of one egg that you can dip in water to poach.
  
• The steel ones are no good. china wear breaks. So we have silicone cups.
• The silicone cups are too flexible - difficult to lift with tongs. too hot to lift with fingers. so we made 2-3 holes near the edges and a special tongs-stick like-that go into the holes .
• Knives-different types for cutting, slicing, paring scooping, chopping,smearing and one for meat, one for vegetables one for fruits and one for bread.
  
• This gadget here is for removing the fiber from the sides of beans and it also slices it. It is called bean stringer.
  
• This is for squeezing lemon(like the one we have here), and this is for crushing garlic pods!
• This one here is for cutting the pizza.
• This spade like thing is for lifting and serving cake - shaped like a wedge
• Look at this-it is a pair of tongs, shaped like a cake wedge.you put it around the cake like a lasso and lift.
• Your child wants to take bananas to school. it gets crushed or if you put it in a box it sweats. so put it in this special box shaped like a banana with breathing holes.
• We have differently shaped boxes for keeping onions and garlic in the refrigerators.
• The last straw-I found a stand shaped like our palm,fingers separated-that is to keep your glove to dry!
  

If you have doubts, go on the net and search for bean stringer and egg poacher. Tell me if you don't get them!

UK Kathe

It is just 48 hours since I landed here in Reading, UK, in my sister's house. But it seems a long time ago that I entered Bangalore airport - a little tense, a little worried - about how I would manage all check-in procedures, waiting for the announcements and walking to the plane, boarding etc. etc. etc....all alone! My son K1 accompanied me to the airport and hovered around outside till I completed the formalities and waved to him before entering the waiting lounge. To my surprise I was absolutely comfortable and at ease... so much so that others came to me for help!

I had a huge suitcase as check in luggage and a big keyboard for my cabin luggage and my hand bag with me. the girl at the check-in counter said the keyboard was too big and could not fit into the overhead cabin. I had to get it packed and check that in too. Though I had to shell out some money, I was very free with no weight to carry around.

Then the plane landed and I switched on my mobile and immediately received a call from A, my sister who was waiting outside. The helpline on the flight had said that I should follow the yellow boards, to reach immigration and baggage collection and it was so easy and fast that I was out in 20 minutes! I called A , who asked me to come out, where she was standing near a pillar. I did as I was told and landed in the car park while she was still in the lounge! one or two more calls and finally we met right in the same hall where I had made the first call!. :) and we drove home.

Teacher -2

I underwent my teacher's training in the 'Regional College of Education' (now called Regional Institute of Education) and I just did not know how those ten months flew. I enjoyed every moment of the college days.There was a lot of freedom, but no one misused it, there were strict teachers but we were not scared of them, we made blunders and no one laughed at us, the teachers glared at us and we grinned, and occasionally they shouted at us, and you know, we learned our lesson.

The practical training for us was in Udupi, a place in Dakshina Kannada district, known for the Krishna temple and AshTa maTha's -and we stayed in the place for a month serving in a school like full fledged teachers.

One of the first few lessons in practice teaching was - "If you are demonstrating an experiment,try it once before you enter the class. Don't make a fool of yourself in front of the students."
Now I was teaching class 9, the preparation and properties of ammonia. The process was simple, 'easy', I thought.There was this spectacular 'fountain experiment' where a red litmus solution would rise like a jet into the upturned flask,and turn blue as it fell into the flask. Ignoring the advice of the teacher, I collected all the apparatus and chemicals and walked into the class like a soldier, sure of victory.I set up the apparatus as I explained and started the preparation......and ..............nothing happened! The gas did not form, did not collect, did not rise nor turn the red liquid blue. I could feel the blood draining my face and the knees turning into jelly, because I saw from the corner of my eye my Chemistry professor Mr.T frowning and pursing his lips. I collected my wits and said the chemicals were old! and saw the the professor's face turning red!!!!!!!!!!!
That evening in the review class I dared not raise my head and look at him . Finally when my name was called, I looked at him with a silly smile and he started......"Do you know what you have done? How many times have I told you to conduct the experiment before entering the class? Did you do it? No!...Not only did you disappoint the children, but you also put wrong concepts into their head! Old chemicals I suppose! !@#$%^&*.....Now , this is what you are going to do. Tomorrow, go to the class with preparation, apologize to the class, tell them what went wrong and demonstrate the experiment once again! old chemicals! Blah!" he stormed out mumbling about our carelessness, callousness and what not! I looked at all my friends and grinned... We all had learned a lesson!

Children have opinions too!

We lived in the beautiful malnad town- Shimoga, where my father taught in a college. He was transferred to Mysore, an equally beautiful place. I was 6years 6months old, and was in 4th year of school. As I have mentioned in my earlier post, we were considered 'bright' and were given double promotion, which was why I was in 4th , and not 2nd standard where I should have been.
It was first of January when we reached Mysore and my parents had to find a school for me to spend the next 3 months. After consulting the friends and relatives, they learnt that the government school nearby was good and took me there the next morning. One look at the school, and I halted in my path like a stubborn horse, refusing to move. No amount of coaxing and cajoling made me change my mind. I said I didn't want to go there!
It was an old house with absolutely no colour that could beused to describe it, with long narrow windows and rusty iron bars. The whole structure had not seen any paint in its life. Through the window I could see a teacher desperately trying to make the children keep quiet and listen to her by banging a ruler on the table.( The 'ruler doNNe', as it was called used to be a smooth, polished wooden baton, 3-4 cms thick and half a meter long used to draw lines or to beat children!?)One wall of the school was completely covered with dung cakes. obviously it was the work of the 'koppal' women. Koppal, incidentally, was a rural pocket in the city of Mysore which was totally unaffected by the developments or the culture of the city around it. A woman
sat under the tree, selling groundnuts and guavas. Looking at my parents' plight she volunteered and said, "vogavvaaa, madammavru vollevru", meaning, 'go, the teacher is good' But it had no effect on me.
Finally I was taken away and admitted in another neighbourhood school.
Today when I imagine the whole situation, I find it comical. Two distraught parents, a kid with overflowing cheeks and sad eyes, her two plaits as crooked and stubborn as its owner, standing at an angle defying gravity(symbolic of her character?), the dirty looking school and the ground nut vendor under the tree! It could have been a beautiful R.K. Lakshman's cartoon!

Gangothri is beautiful! No, I am not talking about the place in the Himalayas where river Ganga takes birth. For the information of those who do not know Mysore, I am talking about Manasa Gangothri, the university campus that houses the post graduate departments. Again, I am not talking about the departments, the students and the professors! Mysoreans would think there must be something very wrong with me! I'm telling you about the wealth of nature outside the buildings.
March ! and the place is a riot of colours! The bougainvilla in front of the guest house is full of bright pink,orange and muave flowers. On the other side are two trees- I dont know the names- one with white flowers that look like flowers of guava( or still better like pannerale ), the other one with delicate bunches of purple flowers belonging to the leguminous family. Further you see rows and rows of leafless tabebuia trees covered with bright yellow flowers. Behind the guest house is the same kind of flowers in a lovely pink!
The mango trees are so laden with flowers that the ground is oily and sticky with their nectar.Looks like we will have a bumper crop of mangoes this year!
The bayan tree? What we call fruits, are actually the flowers.They attract a variety of birds - crows, mynas and pied horn bills.
Then the mahagoni trees.You can see three varieties: one which have bright copper leaves ready to be shed, those that have shed all the leaves- bare-displaying woody, conical fruits and a lonely crow's nest and those with lovely light green leaves. You may see the fruits opening from the base to let the winged seeds float in the air. The sweet fragrance indicates that there are flowers, but you cant see them! They are tiny, pale, greenish yellow flowers that can be seen only when they fall to the ground forming a soft carpet.
There are purple jacuranda, Seetha ashoka with yellow orange flowers, another tree with bunches of deep purple flowers and so on and on..... Gangothri is beautiful!

I teach science and English in a school. I leave home by 9.30am and return by 5. I do my laundry in the evening. I load the washing machine and relax till it is done. We have an airy passage at the back where I have kept a stand to dry the clothes. From there I have a view of two houses - one right behind our house and the other diagonally opposite. Today as I was drying clothes I overheard the conversation between a mother and a daughter in one of these houses.
Mother : (in a rude voice), aye, don't you know that much, what do you answer in English, for 'what is your name?' The girl mumbled something and thwack! The mother hit her on the head! After prompting several times the name came out. Then, 'How old are you?' 'I yaam, foore years' came the answer. Whack! one more! ' Can't you learn properly if I teach you once? say properly....Iyaam four years wold' - The whole conversation, except the words in italics was in Kannada. I could not stand there anymore. I walked in closing the door. It was pathetic- a four year old kid sitting at home at 5-30 in the evening, mouthing words in an unfamiliar language, when all her friends were playing! And getting punished by an over - enthusiastic, English obsessed mother who needed some training herself. Exam time you know! It is a question of life and death!What if she does not score 90+? :(

Today while coming home from school I stopped at a cross road to let a van pass. There was the picture of Ganesha on its side and 'GANESH BEEDI' written under that. Automatically my eyes searched for a huge Ganesha painted on its door behind. I was disappointed to find it bare but a smile appeared on my face. My thoughts went back some 40 years.
My brother A was put in a school faaar away -nearly 2 km- from home! He walked the distance with his friends and would walk back home and reach by 5 in the evening.
On one particular day he did not come at the usual time. Nor did he come at 5.30 or 6! It started getting dark and everyone grew anxious. 6.30, there was no sign of the young boy of 13. No one thought of road accidents in those days of traffic free roads. Kidnappers were there but who would pick up a meek, studious looking boy whose father,everyone knew, was not 'rich' to pay the ransom? At around 7,when my father was thinking of what he should do next, the gentleman walked in with a sheepish grin. Every one felt relieved. Heaving a sigh of relief my father asked him where he had been. "They were painting a huge Ganesha behind the Ganesh Beedi van; so we all stood watching."came the cool reply. So much for an atheist!

Dons!

We were a group of assorted children in our class- we had our school watchman's niece, a film director's son, a hotelier's son, an advocate's sister a professor's daughter who could not tell A from B.... and two of us - my close friend and I -college lecturers' daughters. Lecturers were held in high regard those days and we two shone in their halo. We were considered very 'bright' and given a lot of importance. We had a few things to our credit. We learnt the poems quickiy and recited them, we talked boldly and sang well. We also 'chanted' the tables upto12. So we were asked to mind the class, teach our friends or run errands for the teacher. We took our tasks seriously but never behaved in a high-handed manner.
These tasks were assigned to us because the teachers had some other important work to do. The Kannada teacher had to write notations for the 'krithis' she was taught in her music class and had to learn it before evening. TheEnglish teacher had to write to her husband who was in 'foreign'. Maths teacher would be tired, and after teaching a sample sum, would settle down for 'forty winks' while the 'good ones' kept an eye on the others. My friend and I would be bored with the whole thing and would go out on the pretext of transfering ink from one pen to another. One of us always forgot to fill ink you know! Then we would pour ink from one pen to the other, several times, so that our hands and faces would be smeared with ink. Then we would go to wash our hands and by the time we entered the class the lunch bell would ring and yippeee! we were out!
Today I wonder how I passed the exams at all . And with my rich experience of the past, I catch my unsuspecting students when they are upto some trick and keep them wondering how smart their teacher is!! I hope none of my students read my blog.
ps: I should confess that my basic maths-( the 4 operations ) is good. I never use a calculator where as the maths teacher does!

My school

My sister finished her 'middle school' and went to a school run by a convent. Having studied in Kannada medium till then, she continued in the same medium. But she and all children in that section had to face a lot of discrimination. the humiliation she suffered can be narrated only by her. Anyway, the JSS institution opened an English medium school right next to our house and she was immediately shifted to the new school; and we all followed.

The school premises was a sprawling 2 to 3 acres of land full of trees and weird looking buildings. It was a film shooting studio and for what reason we don't know, it was sold to the JSS Matt. So when the school was started, all the old structures were there - huge halls with high roofs, some broken spot lights and reflectors still hanging from the wooden beams, round 'mantaps', and make up rooms - to name a few. The make up rooms were our class rooms. One huge hall was an assembly hall. Another hall without roof - it had all fallen - was haunted, we were told! the mantaps were used by us to sit and have lunch and sometimes to teach the unfortunate friends who were labeled 'dull'.

But we had a lot of place to play. There were mango, jack fruit, coconut and many other fruit trees. We would explore the wild growth behind our class rooms and come across many surprises. You will not have seen so many varieties of butterflies even in a book. the varieties of beetles we had collected!-fluorescent green and blue ones, black ones with red spots, some with red stripes, some with horns and some with a fan like antennae. Big, small, fat, lean, ugly, beautiful,it was something that could be described just like how rats are described in 'Pied Piper of Hamlyn'. I did not know much about the birds then. There must have been plenty of them. We recognized only the crows, sparrows mynas and koels.Wow! we had a nice time! I mean outside the class. what we did inside is a different story. :)

teacher!

I had never dreamt that I would become a a teacher.I never had anything against the profession, but I loved my cousin who was a doctor and sincerely believed that I would become one. the sad thing was that I never knew that one had to work hard and study sincerely to become a doctor!

So...I graduated, got a master's degree in English and then a certificate in English language teaching and approached a school for a teacher's post. The Head Master told me that without a B.Ed. degree I had no entry into a school. Fine! I applied for a seat in two colleges- RCE( today it is known as RIE) and another private college. My name was not in first list of RIE which catered to all 4 southern states and union territories. The private college gave me admission, and I joined with some apprehension. (My apologies to good people associated with the college) I found myself in the middle of a horde of dowdy, ogling boys who would break into a romantic kannada song the moment they saw the pallu of a sari, (most of the girls wore saris) and girls who wouldn't raise their heads or voices and huddle in small groups. My heart sank into my stomach and I felt a lump in my throat.
One or two classes- introductions, syllabus and we were in a Physical Education class. The 'lecturer' talked about everything physical and nothing about education. He asked me how old I was , he asked another her caste and another if she was a christian! He talked about the differences between boys and girls, their gaits, mannerisms and nature, with demonstration! A very good teacher indeed! throughout the lecture we had the background music of the boys' raucous laughter and muffled giggles of some girls! That was the last straw!
I walked home, desperately wanting to discontinue, wondering how I could possibly finish my course. I reached home, and it was a moment of elation! My mother stood in the veranda, waving a card in her hand and said "You have got a seat in RCE in the second list!"

The fall of a sparrow

My friend S, once commented, ‘when you start talking of your childhood too often, it is an indication that you are growing old!’I don’t mind what you call me , but I have to share certain experiences with you.

I was eight years old. We lived in a quiet road next to the fire station. The road was lined with huge trees. If we went half a kilometre to the west we were in the mango orchards, beyond which lay the cultivated fields. But we were not allowed to venture there as it was very lonely. The boys went, and shared with us, their experiences and the loot- raw mangoes, guavas and goose berries.

We were happy playing in our road discovering worms, insects, flowers and birds. We collected bird feathers, butterfly wings, shells and seeds. One of my brother’s friends shared with us a piece of wisdom, that should we aim at a bird and shoot with our ‘caterpillar’ as he called it, the bird would drop a feather and fly away! So the next thing we did was to take a catapult aim at an unfortunate bird and shoot. When we ran towards the ‘feather’ which fell, we found a small bird wounded and gasping for breath! It was heart rending to see the bird open its small beak as if to ask us why we bore such enmity toward the little thing. We tried to pour a few drops of water into its open mouth. The bird however died and we all went home crest fallen-of course after giving the dead bird a decent burial.

None of us had even heard the name of Dr. Salim Ali at that time!

None of us went on to become ornithologists! L

games.....

Hi!
Here is my first post! Though I created my blog a week back, I was waiting for a 'kavi samaya'-a moment of inspiration to write. The middler in yesterday's Deccan Herald was ' Games children played' by Maya Jaypal and it took me to my childhood and the games we played.
None of our games needed any sophisticated gadgets or equipment. We did not have the adult looking Barbies or the US military heroes or the cartoon super heroes.All we had were twigs and leaves shed by the trees(trees were in plenty:)and stones of various shapes and sizes.If one of us was very lucky and struck gold, we would have a piece of broken china to play hop scotch(kunte bille)
So we played hop scotch, lagori, 'joot aata', I spy, current-sheroff (till today I dont know what that means), treasure hunt,dark room,'kunt hidio aata'(you have to hop on one leg and try to catch someone)and soooo many other games. There were many indoor games too.'Chowka - bhara', 5 stones, kavade (cowrie shells) -to name a few.
The famous pediatrician.Benjamin Spock wrote that, the simpler the toys, the more creative a child gets. So true! We were creative. We were so impressed by Bengalooru's Lal bag and Mysore's (ok, Mandya's) Brindavan gardens that we created our own paradises in sand using colourful pieces of glass bangles , pebbles,broom sticks and seeds of eucalyptus trees.The bangles served as fences or colourful fountains or neon lamps. eucalyptus seeds (are they seeds?) when stuck to broom sticks became our street lamps!We would forget ourselves in the world of architecture and landscaping till our mothers reminded us that it was time to get in! If I get a chance I would like to do it even now!
ps:Glass bangle pieces were also available in plenty because everyone wore them-children, young girls,
teenagers, women-young and old.)