March 30, 2011

Bird and the Garden

The night was long;

Seemed endless for the bird.

As it was locked;

In a small cage.

Not to let open; again.



The bird had flown away once

Over the mountain, the valleys

The terrains unexplored…

Crossed the oceans

And flown; relentlessly

Fearlessly; in perfect abandon.


The Timeless at once

Became bound

By time, space the milieu…

The bird had tasted the dew

Fresh and cold…

In a garden so pristine

With colors, scent and mist…


The Timeless journey

Seemed just right

When the journey was tight

Daring with might

The return was slow

And less of a glow

As it only gave

The need to let go.


The journey was long

Though it seemed short

The garden is still pristine

Though through the storm


The flowers turn shy

And their colour turns red

When the Bee keeps humming

The gentle song of life.

March 23, 2011

Oh! Those Heavy School Bags!

This is a time that exams are stealing the peace of mind of children and parents alike. Stress levels soar high and all parties concerned crave for a fresh breath of air. To add to the agony of children, the cricket world cup is on! Compromises are to be made by parents and children alike – to watch or not to watch; that is the question!

It has often made me wonder whether what we learn and how we learn in school are directly proportional to the identity that we create later.The identity of an Indian though a collective one, is a very localized feeling to live – as the cliché goes we have so many Indias in one. It depends from which (part of) India that you come from, which will best explain your accent, idiosyncrasies, the weight of ‘r’ in speech, the length of the nose, breadth of eyes etc. But in essence, we are trying to create one Indian spirit – which is largely present – notwithstanding the divisions we already have.

As much as we try hard to create a common identity, and preferably one common India, I wonder whether the education system that we have in place would support this idea. There are two different national syllabi, and one state syllabus (talking about Kerala; guess this is the same for other states as well); different media of education. That gives us three syllabi to choose from one shot. Is one better than the other? One less superior to other? What should our children learn?

In one of those considered a superior syllabus, in a primary standard, the road network in China (Russia too I guess) is thoroughly dealt with I am told. Children know the road network system in China so well. Impressive eh? One of my good friends, who goes through examination pangs along with her 11-year old son, who keeps three mobile phone alarms at three intervals early in the morning to study (!) was telling me that she just wishes that her son will know the main city names of his home town!

It is not really necessary for him to know his home town in this globalised world eh? Can’t complain, the child knows China well.

These children who follow three different syllabi come to the common ground of life after school. How does one deal with life’s situations? How less/more competitive do they become in terms of higher education or better job prospects? By having three different syllabi are we creating three different types of citizens? Is there no other way?

Or am I just imagining ?I keep asking myself – when I see the struggle children go through.

In the above context, I just wanted to share an experience I had a few years back. I had the unique opportunity to visit ‘Pallikkoodam’ (colloquial term for school in Malayalam, as in Sri Lanka they say –ischoole) a school in Kottayam which is about 150 Km away from my home town, Trivandrum. This is run by Mary Roy, mother of Arundhati Roy. It is a rewarding alternate approach to the general system of education, which is unbearably aggressive, and also at the same time does not necessarily produce 'rounded' personalities.

The name board of the school is so inconspicuous that one has to look for it. The concept cherishes the principle of 'back to nature.' As you walk in, you wonder whether you have entered a small forest. Roads are tarred though, inside for the pathway, but the leaves of the trees are never swept, as they make organic manure. Each class room is like a room at home built in brick, (un plastered walls) a concept developed by Laury Baker, who promotes low cost
housing. These un plastered buildings maintain coolness and spells out rustic beauty.

The Breaking News is children up to 12 years have no exams!!! Hurray! They
have absolutely NO EXAMS. But they are extremely very bright kids. A six year old's class has a heap of sand in one corner of the class and they play in it. Mothers have a tough time cleaning their clothes! (only hitch!). Kids learn from nature. They grow their vegetables and they are sent home once in a way to be cooked and to be shared among other kids.

When someone plucks coconuts at home, the whole class is taken to watch that! (Alas! These days hardly any coconut plucking, plus it has also become high tec as the plucker sometimes has a mobile phone to ask the master down whether he should fell a bunch or not!) The children know the names of indigenous plants and medicinal herbs, what they can be used for etc.

These children enter the national system of education (ICSE) from 8th standard onwards where they will face exams. The system though stess-free, sure equips them to take on a national syllabus by that age. It relies on the natural ability of a child to learn – just that it is given a prop up in the most natural way as well.

I have a friend whose four year old daughter goes in a three wheeler with other two kids. Not a single bag is sent with the child. I freaked out! Yes. The kids are given to eat and drink from the nursery itself!

The normal system of education is inexplicably aggressive as we continue to witness. It is even more in India. We go on as if we will have a generation that is hunch-backed and with immense spine problems due to the merciless weight of their school bags which are worse than a coolie's baggage.

Amidst a competitive world, I found Pallikkoodam refreshing. I felt the children there still had a childhood that is not robed by the insane rat race.

Mary Roy has been running this for 30 years.

March 7, 2011

Those forty minutes

Those forty minutes were real enriching! The time was spent on the road, in a taxi, facing an out-of-character weather ( this is nature’s fad these days in Sri Lanka), when it was pouring, and I was heading toward the temple after a very long time. The conversation I had with the taxi driver kept me wondering whether I was in Kerala or Sri Lanka. In Kerala, one can confront the most interesting political discussions, heated arguments on bi-lateral trade agreements, India’s space research, or the cricket team’s latest goof-ups ( basically anything) in a way-side kiosk or while travelling in an auto or a taxi. Most often, these drivers are Masters holders in some discipline and have to actively take on their current jobs due to the sad state of unemployment.

On this particular evening, the taxi guy, starting with the errant weather, embarked on a conversation, the script of which was extremely diverse and encouraging. Man! Sri Lanka’s development challenges in his eyes were over-dependence on imports without diversifying our exports; not being self sufficient and not starting own production units – manufacturing, industries etc; that politicization of projects eat into the overall goals…! How the national challenges get translated to the ground, where it matters – is an interesting phenomenon to observe across boundaries. More often than not, it is the same.

On hearing my place of origin, he got interested in knowing about Kerala more – its culture, population, similarities – He was trying to fathom how one of the small states of India is larger than Sri Lanka. Mallus are (in)famous in this land for (black) magic – the spread of which, incidentally I learnt only after I set foot on this island a decade ago! You have no chance – Mallus are all considered charmers here! End of story! This perception, had in fact, prompted me explore more on this with my father. I must say, the coloring of this particular belief, in Sri Lanka is overly dipped with native additions that even a Mallu may find it a new genre!

In no time I reached the temple and back home -once more fascinated by the thought that Sri Lanka is another Kerala outside India, in more ways than one.

Again and again...

You knocked on my door

When I was asleep

In my dream

When I gave you space

You had left; not knowing.


In the dream

We dreamt; together.

The mystery, the conundrum

Of our sheer existence.

We made room for our thoughts

And set sail on a journey

That did not end…


I woke up.

The Unfinished dream.

The Unfinished journey.

No one to around me to say

That we dreamt together; in my dream.


I slip into slumber again

To catch a glimpse of you

In my dream

And see you from far


For I know

You are yet but a reverie

Again and again…