A school in Gola

 This beautiful mud house with the bright blue door is a village school. But where are the children? Not quite sure. It was locked at noon when I visited the hamlet in Gola Block of Ramgarh District on a tuesday.

Hope he children are learning. Barely legible scrawl on the walls spells out that this is a village school. The teacher's name is Geeta. This is followed by messages on organic farming! Go figure.

Nevertheless, as I walked into the near empty roads of the village that afternoon, the white and blue school looked very beautiful.

An inequitable world

Back this morning from bhubaneswar where we visited several schools for the deaf.

The above photo is a classroom for very young deaf children. It also doubles as their dormitory. Those boxes (of those who can afford) and the bundles (of those who can't) contain each students belongings.

If you look very carefully, there are actually two classes in full swing here. Students seat facing opposite ends. The fact that all of them are deaf, helps. There is not much noise. Infact very little.

Again, another classroom cum dormitory.

All of the photos are of two deaf schools in Bhubaneswar. The 2nd and 3rd photo is one of the oldest schools in Orissa and perhaps in the country. 187 students cramped in to tiny classroom cum dorms. Teachers and staff struggling against all odds. Little or no government aid and delayed if at all. Hapless parents relieved to dump their deaf children in the school and come only reluctantly twice a year before the school holidays to take the children home.

These are the lucky few. Others have to make do with local schools where according to Sarva Siksha Abhiyan, all children (including disabled) are to receive free education. No matter that there are no trained teachers (or atlteast properly trained and coming regularly) at these schools. Did I say these children were lucky. Yes, well only upto Class X or XII. After that what? No jobs. Outdated, outmoded training programmes and no placement anywhere private or government (despite 3% reservation in government jobs).

And Bhubaneswar is only an example. It is more or less similar a scenario everywhere. India is shining, apparently. I'd like to know where?

To Sir, with love

Today is Teacher's Day in India, celebrated every year on the birth anniversary of Dr. Sarvapalli Radhakrishnan, former President of India.

I have happy memories of this day when I was in school. The senior students (Class 7 & 8) took classes for the juniors (Class I to VI)! We followed the normal class time table but instead of Verma Sir, Sahu Sir or Das Madam, it would be Swati or Chetan or Sangeeta taking the class! And at the end of the day or was it the next day, at assembly, the best student - teacher would be announced!

Throughout my school days and later, college, university and when I was learning french, I have had many teachers : good, mediocre and frightening! None of them however inspired me to do anything astounding. Despite that, they are part of my personal history.

Sahu Sir, to whom, we collectively professed our love to, and I think scared him out of his wits (most of us where silly gigly third graders); Kovalan Sir, who became an instant hero when he caught the snake (a harmless grass snake that had somehow crept into a class on that summer day, so long ago, in Assam), twirled it round and round and flung it far away; Nadeema Madam my first arabic teacher who gave me such a hard time (I had joined my class after going to the Middle east, in mid term and was having a hard time with the aleph, bet etc); My math professor in Kolkata who made integration and differentiation into an art form (I wish my class would go on for ever, so lucidly and easily he taught us); Michel in Ecole des Roches in Paris - who would do crazy things to keep the entire morning class wide awake and pick up some french and many others whom I can't remember.

They had their lives, their families, their sorrows and happinesses too....but to me and maybe many other students they were simply - teacher. And although not all our memories of school and teachers might be good or memorable, they did to some extent, acutally more than 'some', made a change in our lives.

Therefore, to all of them, I wish, Happy Teacher's day.

The joys of going to a 'camp'

(I am currently staying with a friend T, in Delhi.)


Dia, T's 6 year old was driving everyone crazy with incessant chatter about her forthcoming 'Camp'. The minute she saw me (after nearly a year), she screamed "Su aunty, I am going to a camp", and proceeded to name a string of places she possibly couldn't see in a day's time and be back home by 8pm! The 'camp' incidentally was a day trip to a farm and a bird sanctuary.

She went on and on about things she had to take to the camp. "Mamma, when are you going to buy my things for the camp?", she asked a zillion times before T read the camp notice and told her that children were not supposed to bring any food. (This is really funny coming from Dia who seems to be on a perpetual hunger strike!).

Soon she was back with "Mamma, when are you going to buy me snacks to take to the camp? I can take snacks, can't I?" and without waiting for an answer, came up with a big list of things to buy - chips, chocolates, cola, toffees and not only for her but for her 4 year old brother as well. His camp was a day later. Finally, someone took her to buy her 'snacks' which she proudly carried around in a plastic bag. This brought T some respite.

Next morning, she came up with a new one. "Mamma which bag shall I take to the camp?" She went on and on. Poor T. Sunday was her only day off from work and she was loathe to rise early. She held Dia off as long as she could with pleas of "in 10 minutes" while Dia danced around alternately shouting 'camp' and 'bag'!

Some one stood on a stool and brought down a variety of bags kept in an cupboard. She rejected each one saying "this one is too small" or "this one is too big" or "not this one, its a suitcase" or "this one's not mine" etc. Finally, she selected the usual back pack she took to school each day and put her precious snacks into it and carried it around.

"Are you excited about the camp", I asked her. (Such stupid questions adults ask). She shrugged her shoulders as if to say its no big deal. And then added sagely "If I don't go, then the 400/- will be wasted and so I must, don't you think?"!!!

Dia had to report at 6am at her school, monday morning. She got up, dressed and drank her milk (a real ordeal for her ma on normal days) in no time and left for the camp.

Tiku, whose camp was on the following day, too was excited about his, but not very vocal about it. He was content to occasionally go through his 'snacks' and try to eat some of it and had to be told that he would have nothing left for the camp.

The house seemed so silent and empty that morning, after Dia had gone to camp, Tiku to school and T, to work. But that silence ended when a tearful Tiku returned from school with tears in his eyes. "Su aunty, (he said in his adorable raspy voice), "Camp cancelled. Teacher said so" and without waiting for my reaction ran to his grandmother and then to the bathroom where his grandfather was taking a bath. He beat his little fists on the door till his grandfather stuck his head out to receive the tragic news.

In his distress, he bacame what he rarely is: extremely quiet. There was little we could do to console him. It was grandfather who finally saved the day by reading the second notice. "It says postponed and not cancelled. It means it will happen later". Tiku smiled, wiped his tears and cycled away madly in celebration, round and round the flat. He would not eat his snacks and agreed only when his grandparents promised to buy him more for his camp!

Dia was picked up at 8pm from her school by T. She was very chirpy but strangely silent about her camp. In between eating and complaining about the itching on her waist, she fell asleep. The tight band of her track suit which she wore all day made her mid riff all itchy. She had blisters on her heels as T discovered when she took off Dia's shoes who was fast asleep by then.

This morning, Dia had a day off. I asked her how the camp went.
"Not good. We went to a farm where we had to sit quietly. Then we went to a bird sanctuary where there were no bird. Then back to school and ma came to take me home", she dissmissed the 72 hours of pre-camp excitement and 14 hours of camp in a couple of sentences!!