"Sandhya is so lame, Savitha", Kavitha, "Sooo lame...She has only two games in her phone. Look at my two phones. So nice!!! I have sixteen games and eighteen movies. I have chammak challo, chikni chameli and on and on and on..." I was dumbstruck listening to the conversation of ~10 year old Indian school going kids in Singapore. Watching lunatically my new smart phone which I was totally proud of even with a single game installed brought me on the ground and for the first time in my life, I was struck with the effect of (so called) generation gap I had missed to recognize (or chose to ignore) so far. Since that day - rather everyday journey to the office has been an entertainment I dearly look up to. On the way to office, there are at least 3-4 schools and when I pan out, one class or the other is on the ground. At times with the coach on a basketball court or a football field and many times doing the rounds around the park. A few kids sprinting to the dash line, a larger group forming a parliament discussing most burning issues while a notorious few cleverly walking behind the girls...
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| Pritam Kabra (Left) - A Chartered Accountant (CA) by profession today and yours truly (Right) sitting of the same bench we shared during our 10th Standard - Class B. The room is on the first floor of the (then) S. V. Joshi's new building |
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The younger generation of the school demoing a science experiment - It's unbelievable we were so small once upon a...
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As I am witnessing their childhood, often I fall into nostalgia recounting my childhood and I remember the recent reunion day I dearly enjoyed during the Diamond Jubilee celebration of my school - S.V. Joshi High School. What a day it was!!! Catching up with old school mates was fun...indeed fun... undoubtedly one of the most enjoyable days to cherish. With the bellies out and chubby cheeks demonstrating the signature of well being and inactive life style, the banter mostly revolved around the current coordinates, evolved career paths, new opportunities and most importantly the fond school memories. As we were walking around the first building, one of my classmates remembered the thunderous strike by our class teacher Patil Sir. The entire class had gone into an uncharacteristic silence and the only thing she could not gather was the exact protagonist in the story and I had to oblige to narrate the incidence:
Well, it was a rainy day yet the gloom had not descended into the classroom and everybody was happily playing with the pencils and colors, drawing rather mimicking an attractive piece of nature scene Patil Sir (The Master) had just drawn on board. He certainly had one of the most magical hands and could create a different world on his own on the board with a handful of colors. The scene was colorful adorning the otherwise insipid black and white board. I always wondered how the math or science teachers that followed could mercilessly wash the entire scene, only to implant the worldly knowledge into our heads.
Anyways, once done with the master piece, The Master settled down with his job of collecting the annual fees from his pupils. The cumulative annual fees were to be 120 rupees (2 USD today) and it was the turn of yours truly to hand over the annual bills. A total of 120 rupees meant a set of two paper notes, one with 100 rupees and the other with a twenty rupees one. To my love towards miniature things, I had folded the 20 rupee note into 20 folds and probably 100 rupees one into that many. Honestly, I was more than happy with my invention. The notes not only took less space in my ever tiny pocket but also resulted in a 3D structure that significantly appealed me. Little did I know that I would one day become a microelectronics engineer playing with micro and nano-dimensional entities building 3D chips, saving crucial real estate and energy in state-of-the-art electronics. Looking back at a few folks, returning their monkey gestures, I nonchalantly handed over the annual sum to The Master and it happened... It happened in a flash...It happened before I could realize, before the class could realize...It happened when I was caught unaware, everyone was caught unaware. The right hand of the master thundered on the left cheek of the pupil, the head was dispatched for a free space travel, the throat started yielding intermittent quacks and in unison cheeks started rolling unstoppable warm tears...
The thunderous strike created a thunderous sound quelling all the whispers in the class and all started watching the drama unfolding on the front stage. "You Donkey, is this the way to treat money?", shouted The Master. "They are just the piece of paper, Sir, nothing more nothing less!!!", but The Mind could not speak as it was traveling the galaxies counting stars. "You monkey, this is what your parents have taught you so far?", screamed The Master again. "What's the role of teachers then?, Sir", again The Mind could bot speak as it was off the milky way counting close to infinity in a flash now. "You moron, get lost from my sight and remember if you treat money like this any more. Show it the respect it deserves and only then it will respect you", The Master, "Understand!!! The damn thing is not only hard earned but many hardly ever earn it..." Even off the galaxy, The Mind has not forgotten the message. Thank you Master!!!
The reunion day was also the day when the great achievers, the cum-laude's; the creme-de-la-creme of the school were applauded for their achievements, for some the life time achievements. And my mind started wondering again, yet again... More about that in Shala - The School (Part-II)...
