Tag Archives: change

In the first pl…

In the first place, God made idiots. That was for practice. Then he made school boards.
-Mark Twain

For years we have wanted change in our education system. But nobody has ever been able to express what exactly we want, we need. Tonight I make a desperate attempt to express my views on the educating children.

In our education system we gain a lot of knowledge. But we are not taught to distinguish between real knowledge and what is not real knowledge. Having read all the verses of Rigveda and mugging them up is not knowledge, you have to understand them, feel them and apply them. In fact we have to apply what we learn. Everyone can give lectures like me. But I am yet not applying my knowledge. Simply knowing name of a bird in fifty languages, can not tell you about the bird.

Concentration is a very important aspect for studies. We should have programs to improve concentration in students. Daily meditation and pranayam class for just half an hour can help a lot. Concentration is something you really need for memorizing and you it believe or not, memorizing is very essential.

Creativity is something that you need in every aspect of life. The students should be challenged to apply their skill and knowledge in a whole new direction, not something set in front by their ancestors. A report on global warming should not only consist of causes or solutions by scientists, it should also have a part of their idea, the actions they have taken or will take. One should be creative in whatever way they like so when they take their last breaths they could at least say that I found a new type of screwdriver.

Time management is a thing where almost everybody gets confused. Guidance from experienced people can really help the kids. To decide upon your priorities and act upon it, to have a contingency plan, to act during emergencies and to do whatever is needed at whatever time is really confusing. Kids need help in arranging their life into order.

Every school insists on discipline. But when a school is not disciplined itself- where a program does not start as planned, where a substitute teacher is not provided when one is absent, when teachers and students are disturbed during classes discipline from students can not be expected. Only a disciplined environment can make discipline possible. And I have seen institutes constituting more than thousands of students as punctual and disciplines as possible.

Student-teacher relation is very important. Teachers should be teachers not for being highly educated, they should know t teach. Teachers should interact with children in such a way that they listen to the teacher in awe. A teacher should be like an orator on stage and should let students be spellbound. Teaching is an art and I shall say this a thousand times over.

And one more important thing that an education system needs to have ,though it does not have anything to do with study, is that it needs to develop a sense of defense in the child both physically and mentally. Defensive martial arts need to be introduced to the schools. Apart from that a student should be developed in such a manner that a person is called educated only if he can stand up for himself or herself.

Students are buds. Don’t cut it. Nurture it till it blossoms. It will only then spread its beautiful aroma. Only then the bees may collect its nectar.

I want to know your views about the education system. Please share.

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Lives Change

Time changes,people change,you change. The same happened to me. I remember myself as the free living beautiful creature with no bounds, no addictions, no love and no hate. I loved myself, adored myself in little ways I did not know. Lethargy, laziness were not the things that were prevalent in my dictionary. I praised myself on little things, I cried on little things. Everything was so simple, so just, so open, so transparent. Life was so easy, so good, so bountiful. Nature was so beautiful, human beings were so joyful.  I lived in Dehradun then, living the happiest life I have experienced till now. I do not remember the houses, the trees, the roads, the rivers. But I remember I was innocently happy and innocently sad. I remember the farewell party which was organised and all the Bengali friends invited. I remember the bus which was rented to take us to the station and I remember us standing at the door of the rail car, while the train accelerated, while streams of tears rode down my eyes and we bade our last ,but not the least farewell, with my parents’ and mine closest friends.

I do not remember the journey or our stay at my aunt’s house in Tollygunge, Kolkata. I remember that some dangerous bacteria or virus or whatever else had attacked me and that I had to spend long nights in the children’s ward of a hospital with something itching all over my body.  We did not go back to my aunt’s, I was taken to a small quarter in the thirteenth floor of the longest building I have even seen by now.  We went up the floors using a lift which used to look like a mini-train to my exploring eyes. Once in a while when I returned from school I found that there was no electricity, I only climbed all the way up using stairs because the Kurkure packet in my brother’s hand seduced me. I remember the days when I used to cover all the easily breakable things with pillows and make a boundary out of it so that I and my brother could play mini cricket on bed. I remember rearranging those pillows into mountains and hiding some mini-objects into it so my brother could find it(he did the same for me).

Then I remember another move, to the opposite side of Kolkata, to a better house, poorer neighbours, better connections, poorer school and better friends. Yes, in that new school painted red, with plasters peeling out of walls, with cobwebs hanging on the classroom walls, with a single toilet that smelled like hell, with broken marbles and sand filled ground I found my best friend, that I found myself to undergo a change.

The girl who I described as my best-friend appeared to me at that time to be a thin girl with large dark eyes and chocolate brown hair which used to form a fine braid. She is and was quite a beauty if you could imagine her without the limp. I met her on the second day of my new class. She sat with me. She might have bored anyone else with her nonsensical talk but she did not bore me for I still had not gained the habit of talking and hearing much. Whatever were her failings in studies, she made it up with her good behavior, polite manners, helpfulness and caress.

I liked her to be on my side through petty happiness and trouble. But I was attracted to other students, students I considered of a higher value than me, those who I despised and yet at some part in my heart admired. they did not like me,they never talked for I never brought up a conversation meaningful enough. So the more I despised myself and them, and so the more I admired them.

Then suddenly I discovered that I was a good enough to compete the students  to whom I gave such a high stature, then I became sure. At some point I become proud and then over-proud.  I had come to believe that it would be easy to change-to forget the old and accept the new. I desired to be the friends of those who who had popularity,intelligence, smartness and somewhere hidden in them- a desire to live and to ignore the life.  But somehow my plans backfired. Somewhere I went against the plan of God.

Yes it was easy to forget much but not all. Yes it was easy to adopt some but not all. Somehow I got hung between two branches. I no longer belonged to the clan I had tried to leave for good, it being stated by material mouths matter-of-factly (which carried some amount of regret I assume).  I entered partly into the group i desired but not as full and whole. They now talked to me but not let me be with them. I sat with old friends but did not share with them. I became oceans between two lands, wanted only for having fun. I became salty like sea, remembered but yet not truly essential. I lost something to get nothing. Somehow those days made me lose something inner,made me lazy and tired. Somehow I lost my beauty, my grace, my bounty over the thing you consider as a trifle incident. Somehow I lost my charm. Somehow I lost myself. I got for the hate of me something I hate more. Chains broke to let me starve. I recovered from that dreaded state of human life, but it was not me who recovered. I am not me, no longer.

Incredible Kolkata!

Yesterday I received a letter from a friend. It is a unique letter with unique ideas. I think all of you should read it.

Howrah Bridge
Howrah Bridge

Dear T2,

I visited Kolkata after a long time. I couldn’t believe what I saw. We arrived in Howrah Station   on time. Coolies took our luggage out on trolleys. I saw the station. Couldn’t believe it could be Horwrah. Not a single wrapper was lying here and there. We immediately got a taxi when we came out at quite a fair price. We were travelling to another part of the city. I was taking in the scene. The roads were as clean as the station. I could see no one spitting on roads. The footpath was in a very good condition. It was decorated by faces carved on pillars. And there were unique looking dustbins. The road looked like a winding path of fairy tales.

The canals were covered with arch shaped structures. The structures contained a depression in the center where plants were grown and creepers were climbing down from the sides. You would think you have seen a mini botanical garden. There were even no stickers or ghastly writings on any wall.

And the most incredible thing is we reached uncle’s house without facing a jam. I still have to take in what had happened to our place.

Yours lovingly,

Tooty

I wish to see this Kolkata also. Don’t you?