Standing on my balcony, I strain my eyes to catch a glimpse of the Himalayan peaks. It’s really cold at this hour of the morning. The sun hasn't risen yet but I can see the rays coming. Enveloped by the fragrance of blossoming jasmines, I watch the sun playing peek-a-boo. I stand there mesmerized when suddenly I realize that the balcony is spiraling downwards! And the next moment the scene shifts… instead of the imposing glory of the mountains, I am surrounded by the thorny splendor of cacti in the middle of the Thar Desert… with the sun about to set…but..
“Wait, how is this possible???”
Just as I said these words, the alarm on my clock started to ring. It was my mother calling on my mobile to wake me up. All I wanted to do was ignore her calls and go back to sleep. I WANT my dream back... 5 minutes more...pleassseee...
But alas! She didn’t give up. After much effort, I finally picked up her call. All sleep disappeared when I realized that I needed to be at Tanya's place by 6 and I really had to hurry. My system revolted. I did the daily rituals absolutely unaware of what I was doing because my mind was still there in the balcony on which I was standing…
Tanya was waiting for me across the road. We had to go to Haryana. I said to myself… “Life is like a wave Abhi, what goes up comes down”. If my dream of that balcony was the crest, then the teachers’ training in Haryana was definitely the trough.
Tanya greeted me with a sunny smile and we began what seemed like, at that point, a most tiresome journey. It was a 2 hour drive and we listened to music. It was a cloudy day and we drove past open fields…the sun's rays just managing to peep through. The sky was gorgeous… and all this just reminded me of my dream of the mountains…
A policeman stopped us for some checking. He called me outside the car and asked me to show him my ID. Realizing this, Tanya also stepped out of the car and started a conversation with the cop. At this point I would like to inform my readers that if there is one thing that Haryanavi men are wary of, it is talking to women. And so it was with this cop. He tried his best to not to talk to Tanya but Tanya being Tanya, she would not back out. Finally, the cop took me to a corner and checked my ID proof. He looked at my ID for what seemed like an eternity (I don’t know what he saw there) and then very ceremoniously noted down my house number. He noted down the house number but not the street number...how the heck does he expect to find me???
Anyway, after this short interlude of unnecessary harassment, we resumed our journey. By this time I was totally through with my dream hangover. I declare to myself “Welcome to Haryana”. After what seemed like a million years of battle waged, we finally reached our destination.
As we went from one training venue to the other, we found that no training had been organized on that day. As we walked out of our last training venue, we decided to call for a team meeting. We were standing near the school’s playground and there I saw a teacher teaching mathematics to a bunch of 25 students sitting under a tree. This teacher looked really strict. What struck me as odd was that his table had a bunch of wooden sticks along with the books. The teacher gave his class a question to solve. After about 20 min. he picked up one of the wooden sticks and started looking at a child’s notebook. Now, I am quite sure you all can anticipate what might have happened next… exactly!! With all his might, the teacher smacked the child with the stick. As he checked the children's notebooks, the teacher became more and more frustrated. While all this happened, there was one student sitting in that class who was different from the others. That kid was not afraid…his face had a strange calmness. When his turn came, he threw his notebook away and signaled the teacher to hit him.
While we watched, the teacher humiliated and took it all out on the little kid. Yet, the kid's face retained the serenity (or perhaps it was resilience), a resolve to not let the teacher perturb him. He didn’t defend himself while the teacher hit him.
The teacher finished his "class", the bell rung and the students started walking towards their classroom. That particular child just stood there quietly. Then he did something that took me by surprise… he picked up the stick and started hitting the tree with that stick viciously. As the child vented out his frustration on the tree I stood there benumbed by a thought that surrounded me at that moment. A few years ago I was that child...but my story had a different ending to the one that I was witnessing. I remembered a lesson life once taught me:
Life at all times provides you with choices
No such thing as a right or wrong choice exists
Choices are independent of reasons
Yet every choice has a consequence
You may choose to hate the teacher for what he did
Or you may choose to take a stand for what happened
I chose to write about it.
Abhineet Singh: Delhi
“Wait, how is this possible???”
Just as I said these words, the alarm on my clock started to ring. It was my mother calling on my mobile to wake me up. All I wanted to do was ignore her calls and go back to sleep. I WANT my dream back... 5 minutes more...pleassseee...
But alas! She didn’t give up. After much effort, I finally picked up her call. All sleep disappeared when I realized that I needed to be at Tanya's place by 6 and I really had to hurry. My system revolted. I did the daily rituals absolutely unaware of what I was doing because my mind was still there in the balcony on which I was standing…
Tanya was waiting for me across the road. We had to go to Haryana. I said to myself… “Life is like a wave Abhi, what goes up comes down”. If my dream of that balcony was the crest, then the teachers’ training in Haryana was definitely the trough.
Tanya greeted me with a sunny smile and we began what seemed like, at that point, a most tiresome journey. It was a 2 hour drive and we listened to music. It was a cloudy day and we drove past open fields…the sun's rays just managing to peep through. The sky was gorgeous… and all this just reminded me of my dream of the mountains…
A policeman stopped us for some checking. He called me outside the car and asked me to show him my ID. Realizing this, Tanya also stepped out of the car and started a conversation with the cop. At this point I would like to inform my readers that if there is one thing that Haryanavi men are wary of, it is talking to women. And so it was with this cop. He tried his best to not to talk to Tanya but Tanya being Tanya, she would not back out. Finally, the cop took me to a corner and checked my ID proof. He looked at my ID for what seemed like an eternity (I don’t know what he saw there) and then very ceremoniously noted down my house number. He noted down the house number but not the street number...how the heck does he expect to find me???
Anyway, after this short interlude of unnecessary harassment, we resumed our journey. By this time I was totally through with my dream hangover. I declare to myself “Welcome to Haryana”. After what seemed like a million years of battle waged, we finally reached our destination.
As we went from one training venue to the other, we found that no training had been organized on that day. As we walked out of our last training venue, we decided to call for a team meeting. We were standing near the school’s playground and there I saw a teacher teaching mathematics to a bunch of 25 students sitting under a tree. This teacher looked really strict. What struck me as odd was that his table had a bunch of wooden sticks along with the books. The teacher gave his class a question to solve. After about 20 min. he picked up one of the wooden sticks and started looking at a child’s notebook. Now, I am quite sure you all can anticipate what might have happened next… exactly!! With all his might, the teacher smacked the child with the stick. As he checked the children's notebooks, the teacher became more and more frustrated. While all this happened, there was one student sitting in that class who was different from the others. That kid was not afraid…his face had a strange calmness. When his turn came, he threw his notebook away and signaled the teacher to hit him.
While we watched, the teacher humiliated and took it all out on the little kid. Yet, the kid's face retained the serenity (or perhaps it was resilience), a resolve to not let the teacher perturb him. He didn’t defend himself while the teacher hit him.
The teacher finished his "class", the bell rung and the students started walking towards their classroom. That particular child just stood there quietly. Then he did something that took me by surprise… he picked up the stick and started hitting the tree with that stick viciously. As the child vented out his frustration on the tree I stood there benumbed by a thought that surrounded me at that moment. A few years ago I was that child...but my story had a different ending to the one that I was witnessing. I remembered a lesson life once taught me:
Life at all times provides you with choices
No such thing as a right or wrong choice exists
Choices are independent of reasons
Yet every choice has a consequence
You may choose to hate the teacher for what he did
Or you may choose to take a stand for what happened
I chose to write about it.
Abhineet Singh: Delhi
Awesome!!
ReplyDeleteIts been put in a very good form,and the ending was seriously thought provoking..I didn't experience something like that but heck,if I had,it wouldn't have ended in the same manner...:)
Hi Abhijit,
ReplyDeleteAre you working as a full-time volunteer for Pratham? If so, how did you get involved , I mean how did you approach and whom did you approach ? I am very interested in working for Pratahm as they are working towards noble cause of educating underprivileged kids in India and will like to know more. I will appreciate your reply.
Thanks
Swapnil
Swapnil,
ReplyDeletePlease put in your query at mumbai@pratham.org
Pratham