Bus Stop

The title is 'There was no one at the BUS STOP' A novel by Sirshendu Mukhopadhyay originally written in Bangla and translated by Arunava Sinha to English.

The story is about Debashish who loves a lady who he met along with her husband when his firm was asked to renovate their house in Calcutta. Deb's wife commits sucide; he agrees to let his son stay with his sister; brings Trina to his house. Trina's family knows that she is involved with Deb - children despise her, husband is indifferent...

Trina returns to her house the same day, is having dinner with family when her daughter says 'ma' to her after a long time... perhaps that's the reason Trina decides to stay back with the family which she had almost decided to leave forver in the morning...

The storyline is interesting but the title doesn't appears to be apt. I mean generally while reading a book or a story one is able to relate to the title, but somehow for this book's title, I think people will certainly have a different view.

And what's about this BUS STOP? That was their 'Meeting Point!'

Absolute Khushwant

After a long time I finished reading a book in single sitting. Major achievement!! This is the fourth book of Khuswant Singh that I have read, and enjoyed reading. I like what he has written on happiness and on solitude: the secret for longivity. His thoughts on communalism, politicians, 26/11, and other topics are thought provoking and engrossing. Though overall an interesting read, i thnk the chapters on sex and sex life could have been avoided :-)

A TWist of lime

Got completely engrossed in the wonderfully written collection of 11 short stories. At the end of each story I just thought - AMAZING! WONDERFUL! UNBELIEVABLE!

The blurb says, "what's life without a dash of the unexpected!" and that's the theme of the collection.

I plan to read Vibha's poetry too.

The Talkative Man

The story is about a budding writer who is always on a look out for an interesting story. He befriends Dr Rann who tells him that he is in Malgudi town to complete his research on a certain subject and that his final work and expertise is on Futurology - on how the world will be different in year 3000. On how a common weed will suck life out of everything.

The writer, TM as he is addressed by all, finds out that Dr Rann has the tact and talent of befriending girls, promising them good life, and finally running away from their lives. He helps Dr Rann's wife in nabbing him, but comes to know later that Rann elopes with a nurse after staying with his wife for a brief time.

An interesting book, with simple language, and engaging text. And my first attempt in completing any book of R K Narayan!

SWAY - The irresistible pull of irrational behavior...

Authors Ori Brafman and Rom Brafman have written an interesting book on how we sometimes make decisions - in particular the ones which though appear logical, but result in drastic results. The book describes how even the best trained professional can get swayed by his thoughts which override the logical reasoning.

To support their study of irrational behavior, the authors have shared few case studies of situations where the best decisions have been ignored resulting in nothing less than disasters.

Here's one example: Van Zanten was KLM’s chief of security with number of years of successful flying and flight safety experience. He was commanding the KLM flight which was on its way to Holland via Las Palmas where he was to get fuel for his Boeing. Due to some reason, he was asked to land at a much smaller and ill-equipped airport of Tenerife.

Post landing, when he came to know that the Las Palmas airport was now functional, he decided to take off even when the Tenerife airport was enveloped in dense fog and his plane did not get clearance. As per the procedure, he was supposed to cancel the take off and the passengers were to be deplaned and accommodated in hotel. He assumed that his reputation for flying successfully through rough times, and reaching destinations on time was at stake, so ignoring what the safety manual listed [and he was the security head], he decided to take off.

When his plane was getting into speed, he suddenly saw another plane parked across the runway, he pulled up the aircraft's nose up in desperation in order to avoid a collision; the tail screeched on the runway, but the fuselage was ripped through the top of the Pan Am plane.

584 people died in the Tenerife airport that day.

Van was swayed by an unknown psychological force because of which his action was deprived of logic. It was the risk of LOSS AVERSION, which made him do everything in his power to avoid the loss of time, money, and the cascading effect of flight cancellation because of the delay at Tenerife.

The Brafman's talk about the hidden forces and certain principles/theories we subconsciously follow or subscribe to. Please note, I am just listing the points for my reference. It will be beneficial for you if you read this book - STRONGLY RECOMMENDED.

Loss aversion

• Our mobile bill plan
• Loss damage waiver
• The shares
• Football game – tire the other team
• 20 dollar bill – bid or lose
• Loss aversion n commitment – politics

Value Attribution: sometimes our commitments merge with sway of Value attribution

• It cannot be: that’s because we have known all this while. Opinion based on perceived value rather than objective data. We decide quickly on what’s worthy of our attention based on the value we associate with the person of event.
• Violin player
• Doctors eating sausages

Employee expectations

• Skills: what is sellable/what experience do you bring to the table?
• Toughness: How determined are you to apply those skills? Your informativeness and tenacity to succeed.
• Quickness: How quick is your turnaround? Your awareness of skills to be used to produce the best deliverable within the budgeted time.

Diagnostic Bias

• One word which makes or breaks an individual
• Perception, when they do not change
• Labeling people
• Judging people by perception and not performance
• Procedural justice: When it comes to fairness, it’s the process not the outcome that causes us to react irrationally. The computer vs people splitting money example.

Group Dynamics

• Initiators
• Blockers
• Supporters
• Observers

KLM: be trained to challenge the captain

Selected poems of Kaifi Azmi

मै ढूँढता हूँ जिसे वोह जहाँ नही मिलता

नयी ज़मीन नया आसमां नही मिलता

नयी ज़मीन नया आसमां भी मिलजाये

नये बशर का कहीं कुछ निशाँ नही मिलता...

*

मै ये सोंच कर उसके दर से उठा था

की वह रोक लेगी, मन लेगी मुझको

...

मगर उसने रोका न मुझको मनाया

न दामन he पकड़ा न मुझको बीठाया

न आवाज़ he दी, न वापस बुलाया

मै आहिस्ता आहिस्ता बरता he चला अया

यहाँ तक के उससे जुदा हो गया मै

*

बस एक झिज्ज्हक है येही हाले दिल सुनाने मे,

की तेरा ज़िक्र भी आयेगा इस फसाने माय

*

सुना करो मेरी jaan इनसे उनसे अफसाने

सब अजनबी है यहाँ कौन किसको पहचाने

...

बहार आये तौ मेरा सलाम कहना,

mujhay तौ आज talab कर लिया है sehra ने

*

Kaifi Azmi's poetry translated by Pavan Varma in English. But just to retain the flavour, I have attempted to produce them in Hindi. If you get hold of Kaifi's audio album, kaifiyat, you will just enjoy it.

An Ordinary Traveller

It has taken me almost 6 years to read this book! I was two weeks old in Delhi after my return from the Middle East when I bought this book from Midlands in South Ex. The cover and the blurb appealed me. It’s after 6 years that I realize it has some good content.

This book has an account of the author’s travel to places within India, Burma, and Nepal.

Kunal has described in detail, and in a captivating way the Pokhra-Jomsom or the Apple Pie Trail trek in Nepal and his Cat-man-dou trip, particularly about Thamel and the umpteen eateries there. There’s also mention of the Nyatapola temple which was built to honor a tantric goddess siddhi lakshmi. The temple doors are always locked because the goddess is so vague, it has no devotees.

In ‘Of Monks, Dictators, and Karaoke’ he shares the AIDS awareness, rather the lack of it, which the junta [of Burma] and public have:
· AIDS – you only get it if you have sex with someone whose blood group matches yours!
· The Central Health Education Bureau had published a poster with two school boys fighting, with blood oozing out of one of the boys’ head. Kunal asked someone for the translation, and was shocked to hear that: “Do not fight amongst yourselves, lest blood spills, intermingles – leading to AIDS.”

An easy read leisure book, which is not so invigorating at times, especially with detailed descriptions – just like Hardy describes Dorset locales.

Land of Five Rivers

This book is a collection of 19 short stories by different Punjabi authors. Most of the stories written originally in Gurmukhi are translated by Khushwant Singh. I wonder why most of the stories have a tragic end – do tragedies sell?

exchange of lunatics – saadat hasan manto
bishen singh was one of the many inmates of a lunatic asylum in pakistan. after the partition, when it was decided to exchange lunatics of either country, he got upset and wanted to know which part of the earth was his native place tob tek singh – a village. his relative told him it was in pakistan but the asylum people to pacify him told him that it would also be moved along with him to india. and when the asylum van reached the border, toba tek singh [as bishen was called by that name] would not budge from the pakistani land. the authorities did not force him that moment and continued transferring other inmates to the indian side. after some time toba tek singh let out a cry and died between the indo-pak border.

a paragraph from the story: “no one knew where this Pakistan was or how far it extended. This was the chief reason why inmates who were not totally insane were in worse dilemma than those utterly mad: they did not know whether they were in India or Pakistan. If they were I India, where exactly was Pakistan? And if they were in Pakistan how was it that the very place had till recently been known as India?”

the night of the full moon – kartar singh duggal
there was this person who for years used to knock at this lady’s house on full moon day. he had proposed her several times but she would just ignore him. her husband used to be out most of the times and her daughter was due to get married in a week’s time.

it was full moon night once again and this lady wearing her daughter’s dupatta and red bangles was sitting in the courtyard when there was a knock. she had this urge to be with the person who was so determined to win her, and so she opened the door…

next day the villagers came to her house and started abusing her daughter for having illicit relationship. people told her that they saw her in her dupatta and bangles leaving for the fields with her lover. the lady was shocked and could not utter any word. before she could think of anything, her daughter took her life by jumping in the well.

lajwanti – rajinder singh bedi
this man used to ill treat his wife when they lived together. during partition they got separated. he started living in delhi and used to participate in the refugee rehabilitation programs. he used to miss his wife and always regretted about ill treating her. he pledged if he was given another chance he would take care of her like a queen.

after some time he found his lajwanti. he was surprised that she was hale and hearty. apparently a muslim had taken care of all her needs, she wanted to tell her husband about this person but he never wanted to hear about the stranger. he now took care of lajwanti and never hit or ill treated her. she was a little upset for she thought he had changed. earlier even when he used to hit her, she used to accept it as a ritual which she thought was practiced by all husbands.

stench of kerosene – amrita pritam
guleri and her husband were married for seven years but they were childless. every year guleri used to visit her parents, and someone from her village used to come to every year to escort her home. the time had come for her to leave, but this time her husband insisted she stayed back. guleri was not sure why he was unhappy this time. he accompanied her up to a distance and then she asked him to return.

his mother, who would not want another year to pass by without any hope of a grandchild, married her son to another lady. next day someone acquainted to both guleri and her husband informed him that guleri had doused herself with kerosene and set herself on fire after hearing about his second marriage.

Beastly Tales

Vikram Seth’s collection of poems, ‘Beastly Tales From Here and There,’ is hilariously entertaining.

It appears more like a fable which carries moral lessons. I relished reading each poem and wondered why I never read his prose. I am sure it would be equally engrossing.

I am copying few wonderfully written lines from these poems.

The Crocodile and the Monkey
On the Ganga’s greenest isle
Lived Kuroop the crocodile:
Greeny-brown with gentle grin,
Stubby legs and scaly skin…

We all have read the story of how a crocodile lures his friend monkey to dine with him and his wife deep in the river. And when they are in the center of the river he reveals the purpose of this invitation. The foolish crocodile carries the monkey back to the banks of the river for the monkey to fetch his juicy heart from the hollow of the tree…

When the monkey saw kuroop
He let out a joyous whoop,
Jumped from branch to branch with pleasure
Flinging down the golden treasure

The Louse and the Mosquito
It is a story about a louse and his gang who used to enjoy sucking the royal family’s blood. Once a mosquito enters their territory and requests to nip the king and suck his blood. The kind wakes up with a startle and orders the mosquito to be killed, but in that process the entire band of louse get killed, and the mosquito escapes unhurt…

“Sir Mosquito, flap your wings.
Leave at once. This bed’s the King’s”
“Who may you be, Lady Louse?”
‘I’m the guardian of this house.”

The Mouse and the Snake

One fine morning two small mice,
Much against their friend’s advice,
Visited a room where grain
Undisturbed for months had lain.
Other mice had entered; none
Lived to eat and tell—not one.
But the two friends, unpoliced,
Broke in and began to feast;
And their laughter fell and rose,
Till their blood with horror froze.

…The snake swallows one mouse and leaps to eat the other one, but this mouse succeeds in escaping and when the snake decides to enter its hole, the mouse outside bites the snake’s tail and tries to make the snake tired. In this process the snakes spats the swallowed mouse. The mouse than weeps and carries away the dead friend.

The Rat and the Ox
Chinese zodiac signs have different animals as their symbol. Once all the zodiacs acted oddly. The Rabbit, monkey, tiger, boar, dog, sheep, dragon, ox, cock, snake, horse and rat were recommended as guards to bring order. All these creatures disliked being assigned to head the different zodiacs.

The rat on being assigned to the second place raised a hue and cry and wanted to be replaced with the ox who occupied the first position.

…But the Rat was far from grateful
And he screamed in accents hateful:
“Are you trying to ignore me?
Why’s this Ox been placed before me?
Equity has been denied!
Merit has been thrust aside!
Justice, faith, and truth have gone!"
On he screamed, and on and on.

The rat asked the people to decide. Ox thought that based on the size he was sure to win, so just out of pity he agreed to let people decide. He was sure to be a winner in any case. In the night the rat comes to the ox and cries saying that he has been foolish and that he is sure bound to lose on public vote. Ox asked him to plead to god; the gods increased the mouse in size-bigger than the ox. The people naturally voted for him, and that is how he got the first slot in zodiac.

The Eagle and the Beetle
A beetle and hare used to be together wherever they went. One day an eagle saw the, and ate the hare. The beetle was upset. It thought of taking revenge. For the next few months/years it would destroy the eggs of eagle – it would just roll off the eggs wherever they were laid. The eagle then lays egg in the lap of Zeus [king of the gods] on his instructions. The beetle looks at the egg and throws its dung on the lap. Zeus gets up to clean the dress and in doing so drops the egg.

Past hope, the eagle pined away
And died of grief—and to this day
They say that eagles will not nest
In months when beetles fly their best.

The Hare and the Tortoise
Once or twice upon a time
In the land of Runnyrhyme
Lived a hare both hot and heady
And a tortoise slow and steady

This story we all have known as kids. But Vikram has presented it is such a wonderful way. You must read it to enjoy, for I don’t have words to explain the humor ingrained.

When at noon the hare awoke
She would tell herself a joke,
Squeal with laughter, roll about,
Eat her eggs and sauerkraut,
Then pick up the phone and babble,
--“Gibble-gabble, gibble-gabble”—

The Cat and the Cock
Cat and cock were friends. Once the cat goes out and tells the cock not to venture out. The fox is able to get hold of the cock and takes him to his house and prepares to eat the cock for supper. He has to leave for something and instructs his kids to take care of the cock for it should not run away, and to stay inside.

When the cat returns and finds the cock missing, it figures out the culprit and goes outside the house of the fox. One by one she is able to capture the kids of the fox, and finally barters them for the cock’s life.

Amazing tale of friendship!

death at my doorstep

death at my doorstep by Khuswant Singh is a collection of obituaries he has written for people who he has loved and loathed.

This book may not carry any long lasting value in terms of entertainment reading or some literary accomplishment.

I bought it with interest because it carries short biographical information about politicians, government servants, artists, and people in media. People whom he has outlived.

Manto

I picked up Saadat Hasan Manto’s translated stories by Aatish Taseer. I first heard about Manto from Vivek who likes reading stories by Ismat Chugtai and Manto.

Back to this book I finished reading day before. It is a collection of ten beautifully translated short stories. At the end of each story a reader might ponder about the characters, and I for sure wondered ‘what if?’ – There should have been more. I am not sure if I was expecting, or wanted, happy endings, but each story seems incomplete to me, or maybe I want to fill more…

Ten rupees: the story is about sarita, a young prostitute, who goes out with three men in a car. They go to a beach where the men have beer and the kid in saritha just enjoys the ride, the company of men, and nothing else. Before they start the car, she is handed a 10 rupee note which is her price, but on getting down she returns the note to the driver while the two other men are dozing off in the back seat. She returned the money because they did not do anything…

Blouse: story of momin and his growing up from a child to an adolescent, and not understanding the transformation within. His master’s daughter stitches a satin blouse for herself and he’s there to help her. He picks up her moist vest and feels different. When no one is around, he feels the softness of the blouse…

Khol do: story of a father whose daughter gets lost during partition. He requests a couple of guys to search her; they do find her alive and perhaps rape her…

Khaled Mian: story of a superstitious man who thinks his son would not live to celebrate his first birthday, and for whatever reasons, his suspicion comes true.

Ram Khilavan: the dhobi who is indebted to a Muslim couple for saving his life. Drinks alcohol and is about to kill the husband but realizes and saves him from the anti-muslim rioters; and later apologizes.

License: Nesti starts driving the tonga/coach after her husband’s death. She was beautiful and received a lot of marriage proposals but she refused. For being women, her license was cancelled. She finally had to sell her body for a living…

The Mice of Shah Daulah: Salima had to handover her first born to the caretakers of Shah Daulah with hose blessings she had the child after 6-7 years of marriage. Thereafter she had two more kids, but she could never forget her first one. She meets him after almost 10 years, but loses him very shortly…

Smell: Randhir who has never had dearth of women flocking his house, sleeps with a Marathi girl who gets drenched in the rain. He inhaled a strange smell which came from her body and remembered it for long after she had gone…

next is what?

today i pulled out all my books from the shelve where they were just dumped post that white bugger attack. cleaned all of them, and as usual organized them based on subject area. also, picked up three which i plan to start soon. let me start with poetry first, and it will be followed by travel related books - hopefully.

i have picked up most of the books in my collection from Midland in aurobindo market - my fav weekend haunt. Midland has been my fav book store as it offers flat 20% discount on all books. i have also struck a deal with the owner, an ageing man in his 70's. he will inaugurate any bookshop that i open in future, and in turn he has promised to provide me all inputs on how to run a profitable bookshop. hmm..., so after that 20% discount he offers me, he does makes profit!

i bought the Beastly Tales from Midland, Best-Loved Poems from Landmark Gurgaon, and Last Bus to Vasco directly from the author. PK and i saw him sitting near the main entrance of pragati maidan during the Feb 08 world book fair. this is the first book i my collection which is signed by the author, and we had not requested for that!

new additions to my collection

i enjoy reading. i started with classics and gradually developed a liking for other genres. but till date, after having read books on different subjects [including anthropology and public administrations], i never developed a liking for since fiction.

i have a somewhat enviable collection of books. books that i have collected over a period of time. some i bought from dehradoon while in college; from middle east where i worked as a teacher; from delhi, goa, bangalore, pondicherry, hyderabad, and kolkatta.

there are many in my collection which i have not yet started reading. and even though there is a backlog, the collection keeps growing. to put an end to my buying spree, and to finish reading the current stock, i have decided not to purchase any new book next year [one of my new year resolutions]. around 15 books are currently untouched in the collection.

the resolution is now written on a paper after a lot of thought, so there no chance of modifying it to include a clause of 'buying a new book under certain circumstances.' new year is yet to begin, and just thought what if i run out of books to read after i finish reading the ones in my backlog. so today i purchased few more books so that i am not starved next year [and i hope they don't feel deprived of human touch next year too!]

this time the books i bought are a mix of old classics and contemporary classics. few i have already read but just thought of including them in my collection. here's the list:

• A Room With A view - have read Passage to India by the same author
• The Longest Journey
• A Clockwork Orange
• Lolita
• Songs of Solomon - have read SULA
• A Portrait of The Artist As A Young Man
• Aesop's Fables
• 1984 - read Animal Farm
• The Catcher in the Rye
• Madam Bovary
• Adventures of Huckleberry Finn
• Dubliners
• Three Men in a Boat
• To Kill a Mocking Bird
• Middlemarch
• Tess of the D'urbervilles - have already read it along with Far From The Madding Crowd, Jude the Obscure, Return of The Native, Mayor of Casterbridge, The Woodlanders, A Pair of Blue Eyes, and Two on a Tower by Hardy
• Emma - have read this along with Persuation, Pride and Prejudice, and Mansfield Park by Jane Austen
• Love in the time of cholera
• Oliver Twist
• The Great Gatsby
• One Flew Over The Cuckoo's Nest
• Lady Chatterley's Lover
• To Catch A Smile
• The Best of Roald Dahl
• Short Stories by Sadat Manto
• Breakfast at Tiffany's
• The Crooked LinePoet Saints of India
• Inscets are like you and me except some of them have wings

let me see how many of these i am able to complete next year. i wish myself good luck!

what's here?

just anything about what i have read, what i am reading, and what i plan to read. just my thoughts and philosophy.

i started reading books when i joined college. because that's also when i started understanding what i was reading. because that's when i was taught by people on how to interpret what you read.

i started with classics, poetry [understanding it completely is still a challenge!], prose and then to non-fiction. currently what i read is what i like to pick from my small treasure of books.

the daily humdrum of life gives less time and conducive state of mind for enjoyable reading. but reading is perhaps the only interest i have been able to continue since 1992. i hope it stays on for long.

english classes

English in school and college: I think there's something about this subject, either one gets captivated by the text or the teacher!


i was never interested in english litterature and never studied for english exams till i completed my senior secondary. not that the subject was easy, but because i thought english litterature had no such importance at that time. i always wondered why did we memorize poetry, read and were asked to remember certain portions of prose.

english as a subject in school:
mrs veena bakshi was my english teacher in class VII. she was strict, had short hair, drove a two wheeler, and wore high heels to work. the good things i remember about her are: she was nice to the students, explained well, and punished little. we used to read from radiant reader.

the english teacher in VIII was equally good. she too was approachable, did not punish, explained everything, except for the word Panorama-title of the book!

mr mann was by far the best english teacher of st thomas' college. he made studying english fun. i liked him maybe because of his warm smile, or younger age. i remember he took the entire class to his farm house and we all had a nice picnic. we wondered why he did not teach in his school where his father was the owner and the principal. we concluded that perhaps his dad would not pay him there. his sister was the college captain and the best athlete i have ever seen during school days.

we had english plays and elocution contests in school. i thought the latter was more for testing the student's memory rather than testing the student on whether or not the verbal throw ups [and the diction] in a packed hall was understood and appreciated by all.


i liked the sweet and charming madhulika when we were in class IX. i loved her for he oratory skills - man, she recited the 85 lines within close to 10 minutes! i wondered if alfred noyes would have read his masterpiece with same facial expression and drama as madhu's!


next year she delivered another long piece and flawlessly finished reciting lochinvar! that poem made some sense. in both the poems she read, i had visualized her to be Bess and the 'bride' ready to be wed to someone else. and ofcourse, i was the nameless highway man and the brave lochinvar. whatever happened to that highway man after bess died i am still not sue, nor that i care. but lochinvar was the hero, running away with the bride. his love.


few lines from the famous and the favourite lochinvar... ...
So boldly he entered the Netherby Hall,Among bridesmen, and kinsmen, and brothers, and all:


‘I long wooed your daughter, my suit you denied;
Love swells like the Solway, but ebbs like its tide
And now am I come, with this lost love of mine,
To lead but one measure, drink one cup of wine. ...


The bride kissed the goblet; the knight took it up,
He quaffed off the wine, and he threw down the cup,
She looked down to blush, and she looked up to sigh,
With a smile on her lips and a tear in her eye. ...


One touch to her hand and one word in her ear,
When they reached the hall-door, and the charger stood near;
So light to the croupe the fair lady he swung,
So light to the saddle before her he sprung!‘
She is won! we are gone, over bank, bush, and scaur;
They’ll have fleet steeds that follow,’ quoth young Lochinvar.


if i were an attentive student during my school days, especially during the poetry classes, I would have been able to make sense of words mentioned in the two poetry - moor; rapier hilt; simple sentence like 'his black-eyed daughter'; stirrups; Cannobie Lee; fret; fume, and others...


i remember, when mr mann was explaining us the poem, the line in the highwayman, 'He'd a French cocked-hat on his forehead, a bunch of lace at his chin...' reminded me of clint eastwood dressed as cowboy in the good, the bad, and the ugly! too-ooo ooo, too-too-too!

While that daring lochinvar found and took away her love, this lochinvar is yet to think of finding one :-)

english as a subject in college:
GT was our new lecturer. the attendance of the class swelled when she started teaching us. not just because she was a good teacher, but she was the most beautiful one in the entire college. as i said earlier, there's something about this subject, either one gets captivated by the text or the teacher! i was not an exception, so english suddenly became a favourite subject. the english medium background gave some advantage, and asking questions to her was more easier. i also received some hostile stares from my peers, i wondered if it was a 'stay away from our babe' signal.

GT was smart, as all girls are, when coaching did not help her control the students, she started asking questions to all 'dada' and silent admirers. i was happy to observe the dwindling strength of the class.

crush apart, i started liking the subject, was more attentive, and read more than required for the next class. in addition to my IInd year classes, i started attending final year and classes for students of master degree as well - excuse on asking was - just for the love of the subject [and a silent, you!].


one day i was early in college and met our local bathsheba everdene [that's what we had named GT], and asked her what did she study to be a teacher. it was so nice to hear her talk, i wasn't actually interested in becoming a teacher, but was just interested in chatting with her. unfortunately, some late comers also arrived on time that day. because of them, i am not a teacher today-and also the ultimate, bathsheba's oak! saalay!

then there was one ms joshi, or topknot as we used to call her. a good dab of visible sindoor and her stern face left us no in no doubt that she means business. she taught poetry. that class was also interesting, not because she was beautiful, but she explained beautifully. i still remember a quote she shared with the class when we had settled down after wishing her, "poetry is the spontaneous overflow of powerful emotions!" how true.

of all the english teachers, the best was dr agarwal. we all have heard some people just marry their profession, he was one of those. and this was evident with the interest with which he used to teach. if today i remember 10-20 lines of ode to nightingale, it's because of him. he just didn't explain the meaning of each stanza, but each word, the origin of that word [if it was latin...], and every minute details.

to cement our understanding, he also brought some pictures that he had took while traveling to some museum in london. the pictures were about the poet/poem/symbols etc. that is when i started respecting the teaching clan, some of them from the clan i mean.


after witnessing dr agarwal's effective lectures, i concluded that most teachers who bashed me and others in school [maths and science in particular] were not bad people, it was just that because they did not know how to explain the same concepts in different ways to the lowest level of students , they gave up, got frustrated, and let out their frustrations by punishing us. teachers should never give up on students, because then the students give up hope in the subject, and also on education. i am glad i had dr agarwal, ms joshi, and GT as teachers.

i think with the interest in the subject, the influence of the teachers, and support from a close friend who was a litt pro, i did well in my IIyr exam and scored the highest marks in the college.