Friday 9 March 2012

'Men Thinking' or Puppets of others' thinking?

by Maya Khandelwal on Friday, March 9, 2012 at 8:09pm ·

'Hello Honey! How're u?'

'I'm fine, Thank u.'

'Would u kindly introduce yourself?'

The kid feels shy to say 'yes'.

'Do tell me something abt yourself.' the teacher cajoles.

'I am........ I'm eleven years old......... My mother's name is.......... My father's name is............. My father is a businessman..........My mother is a housewife..........I live in...........' the kid wipes away the tiny drops of sweat that twinkle like transparent beads on his forehead.

'Is that all?' the teacher pretends to be surprised.

The kid simply nods.

Tell me something more.......... You definitely can!'

'They taught this much in school.' he helplessly resorts to the mother tongue.


What is this???

Why so much emphasize to learn the tongue other than the one, one can freely express oneself in???

Yes!

The need of the day! To be precise.

We all know too well how important a role does English play in our education system these days. A child is supposed to be an adept at this language if he or she aspires to move ahead in this progressive world.

English medium schools were so rare earlier in our country but it's not so any more. In almost of each of locality we have mushroom growth of schools that profess to impart education in English.

Why then are the children made handicaps?

Why aren't they provided the art of 'thinking on their own; expressing on their own?'

Let's have one more glimpse of it in one more classroom-

'What's all this rubbish? Is this the answer i dictated in the class?' The teacher flings the notebook in the corner of the room, her eyes bloodshot.

'M...a..m. It was a bit difficult............ so I............' the child responded shaken to very bits.

'Do you think you're smarter than me? Now I have to learn from you???' She feels humiliated.

'I didn't mean so mam......'

'What else do you mean by rejecting the stuff provided by the teacher and creating it on your own??' She slaps him hard.

The boy sobs and sobs, crumpled in a heap.

The teacher holds him in bad books from the day onwards  not because he didn't observe the code of conduct imposed by the school but because he tried to be what he thought he might be.

Is this spoon feeding likely to take the child farther than the immediate school results??? A child may be one of the toppers of the class but can he or she be called a genius if he just possesses good cramming skills and no authenticity of his own??

''Man hopes; genius creates.'  Emerson affirmed and he was right! According to the great American orator and thinker, the eyes of men are set in his forehead and not in his hind head. We need thinkers; not the puppets of others' thinking.................. Shakespeare will not be made by reading Shakespeare........Do that which is assigned to thee......'

Lets then create thinkers.

A mammoth task indeed!

Not impossible however.

Let the teacher's heart throb with joy if he or she has a glimpse of divinity in the student.....
Let the teacher bestow his or her exceptional care and devotion over the promising buds.....
Let the teacher be swollen with pride when the child is able to out pour what lay locked in his or her bosom till now...... 

Experiments with life- getting old......



It was her thirty second birthday. People rejoiced and wished her in the best ways possible. Her husband gifted her a beautiful necklace just like the one she had long been craving to adorn herself wid. Her kids were mature enough to give her sweet surprises whenever it happened to be some special day.
She had richness of all sorts amassed within the four walls of her sweet home.
Perfect!
Everythi...ng just perfect!
What was it that she didn't feel happy and content?
Actually she had seen herself minutely in the mirror last night. She was getting old; she felt. The gray strands of hair were getting just too stubborn to be concealed any more! She felt insecure when she had to do her hair in a way that might keep the salt and pepper from view.
Was she going to dye?
No! She hated to resort to such artificial means.
Did she suffer from any mortal fears?
No!!
What was it then?
Did she fear her husband wouldn't love her if she grew old?
Perhaps yes!!
Did she worry because she thought she might not be carrying herself well in the social gatherings with such a mature look at such an unripened age?
'What happened sweetheart?' her husband approached her and asked kissing her hands.
'Nothing. I'm fine.' She sobbed.
'It's your birthday honey!!'
'Don't i know this?'
'The occasions calls for celebration!! Where have these silly tears come from?' he was startled.
'See; I'm getting old......' She rather exposed the gray bunch of her hair to see how he reacted.
'Is that all which makes me birdie go off colored?' he laughed.
'You won't love me now onwards; no?'
'I love u for your beautiful heart dear.You look awesome! really! Getting old together wud be fun; no?' he clasped her feminine frame to his masculine broad chest.
'U mean it???' She asked wiping her tears wid the pads of her thumbs.
'I mean it. I love you jaan! Come on let's celebrate.'
'getting old?'
'yeah!!'