Mother and Son

Mother and son they were. Selling pakodas on a rode side stall at a busy cross road of Kolkata for last 15 years, the duo appears almost detached and phlegmatic about life and its purpose. The mother makes the hot and spicy batter fries while the son sells them. Fifteen years of drudgery and monotony have settled heavy and deep on their faces. There was something about the posture of the mother washing the wares after the night's business which drew me towards her on a mundane evening. She was doing the chore with no apparent business of finishing it. It reminded me of the rat race, most of us are into, in our lives and in an odd way i understood the absurdity  of that race. The mother's stoicism reminded me of Plath's line, “Everything people did seemed so silly, because they only died in the end.” Slowly I approached her and sat on a bench the other end of which was occupied by  the son. He squirmed and fidgeted with the bag which perhaps contained their day's earning. To deal with the discomfort, I struck a conversation with him on the variety of the fried stuff they sell and also tried two three of them. The conversation got easy soon after and I came to know that Ramesh and his mother Sakuntala Devi, stayed in a slum in the eastern fringe of the metro and travel to the spot of trade everyday. Ramesh is married with two children. The boy goes to school while the girl, bing 3 years old, reads at home. Ramesh is a proud father and says, "even if I remain half fed, I will ensure the education of my children". His eyes sparkled as he declared his motto with conviction. Working in the social sector for more than two years now, I am quite well versed with the RTE act and the Govt. schemes on education. While sharing them with Ramesh, I felt that learning never goes in vain! I did not take any picture of the two, for I felt that would undermine their dignity as humans. Time was up for me as my driver returned from the nearby shop where I sent him on an errand. Getting up from the seat it suddenly occurred to me, "do the children at Ramesh's home have enough clothes and shoes to cover and protect them? How utterly impossible it must be, to support a family of five, with the frugal income of selling pakodas!" The oft heard line, "amar sontan jeno thake dudh e bhaat e" (may my children always stay well fed) appeared ridiculous and hollow then! It was a deeply disturbing moment! In my muddled state I handed a five hundred rupee note to Sakuntala Devi, telling her to buy clothes and shoes for her grandchildren. Once in the car, something struck me again. There were few more five hundred rupee notes in my bag and I often spend thousands to procure my daughter's fancy stuff. Why could I not give the remaining notes to the ones whose many necessities are perhaps beyond fantasy! The last line of Tagore's celebrated poem, Kripon, kept ringing in my ears till sleep silenced it that night. The line goes- " Keno taare di ni amar sakal sunyo kore" (Why did I not give my everything up to him! )

Spirituality

I was once asked by a very close friend of mine about how I see spirituality. While putting words to my idea I was surprised that I could narrate it seamlessly though I have never consciously thought about it. I have in all my life avoided shrines and idols. Fasting as a mark of reverence to the umpteenth number of Hindu deities, standing in long queues to offer prayer never attracted me. But I was and am a strong believer in God and keep compete faith. 

While answering my friend I found myself saying that my spirituality is more internalised....it begins and ends inside my consciousness and hence perhaps I don't have to look outside. My spirituality is in my consistency as a person, my dedication as a mother, my commitment as a writer and in my integrity as a human being and it is in my constant effort not to waver from all these. My spirituality is also in negating the inherent impishness that perhaps every human is born with. It is in my fight not to compromise, in holding onto the truth and in taking up failures with dignity. And it definitely is in stopping myself from hatred towards others, especially those who are not good to me. 

Finishing my definition I was little apprehensive if I sounded high and mighty when he, my friend, said, "if I had not known you this long it could have sounded queer. But since I do, I know what you mean." My spirit smiled. 

The Giant Remains Selfish

                                       

There is a park in our neighbourhood. I cross it everyday on my way to office. Till few months back the park used to bustle with the loud cries of children , mostly from the adjacent slum, who played, ran, jostled among themselves with mirth and glee. One day the civic authorities were seen inspecting the park and within a week the muddy patch underwent a face lift. It was a happy sight. The entire area was a covered with a carpet of green grass. The new fence and gate added further beauty to it.

 But once draped the park gate was locked and it remains so till today. Not a child can be seen there anymore....only a coterie of the winged creatures convene at the now marred green, during dusk fall, as if in a protest of the unjust action !!

Angels are for real

                                                   

There is this man. As much I could gather from others, his name is Akku. He is one of the helps available at the local market to offer their services in carrying the bags home after you are done with the buying. I am a regular to this market for last 6-7 years. And since I buy my week's store in a day, I often need the service of these helps.  Akku was my help one day about a couple of months ago. He is among those who have this deformity in their face with a corner of their lips snipped off and who cannot utter words but only make some sounds with heavy nasal overtone. It so happened that in the consecutive few weeks he happened to be the only help available. As He accompanied me on my way back from the market I found him guiding me on the road lest i tumble over something. I was overwhelmed and happy. It was winter and many of my husband's winter clothes were there at home, unused. I gave him some to wear. He took them delightfully. I was happy that he will have enough now to keep him warm in the fierce winter. 

In my following visits to the market I was happily surprised to find him right beside me the very moment I step in. He would not leave my side throughout my shopping, carrying the bags and guiding me throughout. I feel myself safe in his company and happy to be given so much priority and attention. Angels are all round us....u need to be lucky to see and perhaps identify one.  

Namesake

                                                  

   Was watching Kabuliwala today. The kid in the movie is my nick namesake. Mini was not the name given to me by my parents but by our Nanny. She stayed with us for 23 years. My parents called her 'pishi' (aunt) and for me she was 'thakuma' (grandmother). As my mother was a working woman we had her as our guardian all through our childhood. I am sure she had never even heard of Tagore let alone his works. But Mini she did christen me with much love and affection. And I had a fondness to be called that instead of Mitul my official nickname. Gradually I found that every one calls me Mini. Her affection for me was not only limited in naming me but also in pampering me by cooking the food I like for lunch much to the consternation of my siblings, who often were furious for such favouritism. It was a known fact in my family and among other relations that I was being spoiled by her. I remember the comfort and safety i felt in her soft and hoary arms. Some relations remain inexplicable and only those into it understand the dynamics. Kabuliwala today took me down memory lane and I realised being Mini myself was no less:)

Home Coming

The occasion was somber that made me pay a hurried visit to Durgapur yesterday-Nephew’s wrist bones got fractured while playing football at school. Reached straight to the hospital where the surgery was scheduled at 9.30 AM. After the anxious moments at the hospital while the surgery was on, the beaming face of the doc coming out of the OT brought much awaited respite and relief. It was only then that I could go home (once mine now it can only be referred as ‘Baper Bari’- where my parents live). Maa was waiting for us to reach home after the operation was successfully completed. Every time my car stops at the gate way of our small bungalow, I witness a masque of motley imageries- this time too was no exception. Maa invariably comes out to open the gate and smiles a smile that makes me realize yet again what home coming is. The garden of our house in Durgapur basks with the glory of my father’s green fingers through out the year. The magnificent roses and the supple leaves of the vegetable plants embody the love and affection that the house harbors for me. After a simple lunch (the occasion demanded to keep it simple) it was time for visiting the little one again. Evening was rather happy as the child was smiling and almost back to his normal happy self except for his plastered hand that demanded him to be in bed and thwarted willful mobility. As baba and maa was doting over their grandson me and my sis finished our own chiti-chat, as much it could be done in such a short time. By the time we came back fatigue started overpowering me and had to call it a day after quick dinner.

Next morning was the time for leaving what has been my home for 25 long years, yet another time. As usual maa was ready with tiffin box full of goodies- each meant for each one of us- sweets for Mohor, Hisla for Ritwik and hot chips and Coconut cookies for me. The boxes are always packed and securely fastened by baba so that nothing gets mixed or wasted. Goodbyes are always a sad affair- but my goodbyes from Durgapur have always been very composed and silent (except on the occasion of wedding). Maa and baba see me off with a simple word of giving them the news of my reaching Kolkata safely.

My tryst with the steel city tells me that what ever happens in the strife of life at the big city with big issues- a cool, green and soft shelter will be there for me for this lifetime to fall back on J

Life is a stage

An old Chinese proverb says- “Tell me and I will forget. Show me and I will remember. Involve me and I will understand.” 

Involvement is vital in the process of learning, beginning at home and then in the school. 

For complete learning, theatre activists today suggest use of theatre as a tool so that the children want to get involved in the process with enthusiasm and curiosity.

Sunil Kumar, 21, of Muzaffarpur. had a low voice and was extremely shy. Lacking in confidence, his body language reflected it till he met Saurav Kaushik, a theatre specialist from the same town. “I am reborn,” Kumar says today and adds, “The miracle that changed my life is a tool named theatre. The activities like psycho physical drama and memory game helped me build up confidence and today I work as a specialist, teaching others about personality development through theatre activity.”

Currently running a theatre group in his home town (THE WAY®) and working on a government project for changing the education system through ‘Theatre in Education’, thespian Kaushik has held theatre workshops with children for better learning in several schools and colleges of India. He feels that theatre components are “authentic ways to teach as they help in overall personality development of children, including concentration, physical movement, improvisation and confidence building.”  It also teaches them how to react in special situations, how to dress, how to speak, etc.

Theatre - a five thousand year old art form, has been modified over and over again with changing times. Since the age of Aristotle in Greece and Bharatmuni’s Natya Shastra  in India, theatre has been one of the most productive ways of communication. 

The variety and difference of culture, language, race, habit and education can be easily transcended with the help of theatre. 

According to the theatre specialists the elements of theatre consist of basic understanding of the human nature which is why theatre has greater capacity to contribute to our society especially in education, which presently, the specialists feel, is in a pretty bad shape as the scope of imagination and creativity are limited.

Bindushree,17, was a drop-out from school and stayed in a children’s home supervised by an NGO called  Timbaktu Collective, at Chennekothapalli of Anantapur district in Andhra Pradesh.  Her parents were against sending her to school and she was extremely timid. Last year ,the NGO organised a theatre workshop where some specialists held activities with the children. 

“The workshop, like a touchstone, changed me for good and today I am a completely different person who knows what to do in life,” enthuses the teenager who passed the Class X Board exam with 62 per cent marks and wants to become a teacher. 

It has been seen that after reading a book for one hour if a student is asked to recall it, only 20 to 30 per cent remember it well, whereas if a lesson is presented in a dramatic way, 90 to 95 pr cent of the content  is retained. The students can explain or speak on the topic in their own words too.  

Dharmendra Kumar from UP has been associated with theatre for last 15 years. He observes, “The result is often magical. The students who are known as shy and introvert open up and share various experiences and ideas. Even those known for being indisciplined start behaving politely.” 

Chandrasekhar, from Chandigarh, has applied theatre as a tool of  education since 1998. According to him children are naturally creative and it is “sad” that the school system does not consist opportunities which can help a child to find out his/her true potential. Instead, the system discourages the major portion of students from pursuing their dream in their very own way. “What Rabindranath Tagore said decades ago, that- ‘the student is made to abhor thinking’ seems painfully true even today” he laments.

However, on the positive side, the concept of theatre activity in education is gaining ground in many places. In Delhi, support from TIE (Theatre in Education) and NSD (National School of Drama) has come in this effort. Azim Premji Foundation is also doing good work together with TIE at Rajasthan. However, though the private schools are gradually showing interest in including theatre in the education programme, the government schools need to be more proactive the  practitioners feel.

In Modern High School for Girls, Kolkata, drama and role play are used in several ways. Special drama classes are also organised regularly which are conducted by theatre professionals. The students occasionally adapt canonical dramatic works to contemporary surroundings or dramatise prose works and these exercises help them hone their creativity. 

Says Kaveri Dutt, principal of the school,  “It’s heartening to see that more and more schools are realising the importance of drama as a teaching-learning tool and are integrating it into the school curriculum. Not only is it a useful method for building skills and attitude, it’s also therapeutic. We recognize that it’s a powerful means of communication. ” She observes that through the use of drama, students imbibe problem-solving skills, which they can later apply in their own lives. “Besides, young children love to imitate and it enhances their involvement,” Dutt  adds.

Swastika Dhar of Nandikaar, Bengal’s prestigious theatre unit, has interacted regularly with large groups of children, youngsters and teenagers as a teacher, trainer and researcher since 2003. 

For the last seven years she has also been pursuing a research project on ‘The Magical World of Theatre-an off the Beaten Track to Serve Children’ and has been the chief organiser of the One Day Bishnupur Children Theatre Festival, 2010. 

With experience of working with almost 350 students in the age group of five to eighteen years,  Dhar feels, “Education should be the means to understand, control and finally bring some positive change to the ‘given situations’, some of which always seem to be beyond our control. In the educational system we have today , the theory based narrow syllabus is not quite encouraging for different types of students.”

As Tagore said, “In children, the whole body is expressible. By repressing all activity of the body so many school lessons remain absolutely dead and ineffective.” 

Theatre activists today are trying to change that state of mind and make learning more enjoyable and effective.