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ઘાટલોડિયા, અમદાવાદ

૫/૩/'૦૯
      
પ્રિય શ્રદ્ધા,

આજે બપોરે ઘરે આવ્યો ત્યારે પગથિયાં ચડતાં જ મારી નજર બદામના ઝાડ પર બેઠેલા બંદરો પર પડી. બદામ તો હતી નહી એટલે બદામનાં પાંદડાં તોડી-તોડીને ઝાપટતા હતા. રાજકોટમાં બંદરો આવી રીતે જોવા મળે નહિ. પ્રાણીસંગ્રહાલયે જ જવું પડે. અમદાવાદમાં તો સમયે-સમયે એમનો એક રાઉન્ડ લાગી જ જાય. સારું છે. સતત માણસોને જોતા રહ્યા પછી બંદરોને જોવાથી આખોને ઠંડક પહોંચે છે. આમ પણ આંખોને પરિવર્તન પસંદ પડે છે.

એમને જોઈને એક ક્ષણ તો મારા પગ થંભી જ ગયા. મને મારાં માસી યાદ આવ્યાં. માસા-માસી હમણાં જ વૃંદાવન ગયાં હતાં. ત્યાં એક મંદિર નજીક બંદરોના ટોળાએ એમને ઘેરી લીધાં હતાં. એ તો સુવિદિત છે કે વૃંદાવનમાં પંડાઓ અને બંદરો એક વાર ઘેરી લે એટલે કશુંક મેળવ્યા વિના છોડે નહિ. એક શરારતી બંદરે હસ્તકૌશલ્ય દાખવી માસીનાં ચશ્માં ખેંચી લીધાં. પણ ચશ્માં એને શાં કામનાં? એ વાતનું જ્ઞાન થતાં ફેકી દીધાં. કાચ તૂટવા જોઈતા હતા પણ તૂટી ફ્રેમ. એ બંદરે માસાને ચારસો રુપિયાનું ખરચ કરાવ્યુ! મને મારાં ચશ્માં ઉતારી નાંખવાનો વિચાર આવ્યો. પછી થયુ કે આ બંદરો સજ્જન હોવા જોઈએ નહિંતર મને જોઈને અદબ રાખીને મારા માટે આમ રસ્તો ન કરી આપત.

થોડા દિવસો પહેલાં મેં ડિજિટલ કૅમેરા લીધો હતો. એ લાવીને એમના (બંદરોના) ૧૦-૧૫ ખૂબસૂરત ફોટાઓ ખેંચ્યા. મને તો આ પ્રવૃત્તિમાં ખૂબ જ મજા આવી; એમને આવી કે નહિ ખબર નથી. આ પત્ર સાથે એમાંથી ૨-૩ ફોટાઓ તને મોકલીશ.

'ટાઇમ્સ ઑફ ઇન્ડિયા'માં અમુક સમય પહેલા પ્રખ્યાત ફોટોગ્રાફર શ્રી પ્રાણલાલ પટેલ વિશે વાચ્યું હતું. એમણે હમણાં જ જીવનની શતાબ્દી પૂરી કરી. અને એ ખુશીમાં એમનું બહુમાન કરવા આ અખબારે અમુક દિવસો સુધી એમણે લીધેલા ફોટોગ્રાફ્સ છાપવાનું પ્રયોજન રાખ્યું હતું. એમાં પાંચ દાયકા પહેલાંના અમદાવાદને જોવાની ખરેખર ખૂબ મજા આવી હતી. કાળુપુર રેલવે-સ્ટેશન, કાકરિયા, દિલ્લી દરવાજા, માણેકચોક...... એક-એક સ્થળના બહેતરીન ફોટોગ્રાફ્સ કૅમેરાની આંખે એમણે આપ્યા છે. મને કૅમેરા લેવાની ઇરછા તો ઘણાં સમયથી હતી, પણ એમના વિશે વાંચ્યા પછી આખરે ખરચ કરી જ નાખ્યું. શરુઆત કરી અમદાવાદની જૂની અને જાણીતી એમ. જે. લાયબ્રેરીથી. એ તસવીર ખૂબ ફાઈન આવી છે. સમય મળે તો વધુ ખેડાણ કરવાની ઇરછા છે. હાથમાં બાઇક અને કૅમેરા હોય ને અમદાવાદ જેવું શહેર હોય તો પછી વિચારવાનું શું હોય? 

અમદાવાદ આવ્યા પછી ઘણીવાર વિચાર આવે છે કે નવી જગ્યાએ અજાણ્યા થઈને વસવાટ કરવાનો પ્રયોગ એક વાર તો કરવો જ જોઈએ. વૃક્ષની જેમ  એક જ સ્થળે જન્મીને એજ સ્થળે મરી જવાનુ આપણને કેમ પાલવે?

અમદાવાદ અને અમદાવાદીઓની છાપ ભલે ગમે તેવી હોય પણ અહીંના વાતાવરણની શાંતિ, ઠંડક, હૂંફ અને સાત્ત્વિકતાએ મારામાં ઘણું પરિવર્તન લાવી દીધું છે, શારીરિક અને માનસિક એમ બન્ને રીતે. રાજકોટની અને મિત્રો-સ્નેહીજનોની યાદોથી ખેંચાઈને હું ત્યાં પાછો જઈશ તો પણ અહીં સુખરૂપ પસાર કરેલો કાળ મરણપર્યંત ભુલાશે નહીં. પાંચસો વર્ષના તેજસ્વી વારસાના પ્રભાવથી આ શહેર દિવસ-રાત ઝળહળે છે. મને તો અહીં પાંચસો વર્ષ જૂના, ફેલાયેલા ઘટાદાર વૃક્ષ ની ગાઢ છાયામાં બેસવાની અનુભૂતિ થાય છે.

અમારા પ્યૂન - મહેશ - સાથે પણ અમદાવાદમાં ફરવાનું થાય. ૨૩-૨૪ વર્ષનો યુવાન છે. હમણાં જ એનાં લગ્ન થયાં છે અને બહુ ઉત્સાહી છે. કદાચ લગ્નનો હૅંગઓવર ચાલુ છે! અમુક દિવસો પહેલાં મેં એને રઘુવીર ચૌધરીને લખેલો પત્ર પૉસ્ટ કરવા આપ્યો હતો. એ ભૂલી ગયો. મેં પૂછ્યું તો કહે,"ગુલબાઈ ટેકરા ક્યાં આઘું છે? આપણા સેટેલાઈટવાળા સેન્ટરે જઈશુ ત્યારે રસ્તામાં એમના ઘરે જ રૂબરૂ આપી દેજો." મેં  કહ્યું, "એ વ્યસ્ત લેખક. મારાથી વગર પરવાનગીએ એમને ખલેલ ન પહોચડાય." એણે કહ્યું, તો તમે નીચે બાઈક પર જ રહેજો. હું આપી આવીશ. પછી એમ જ કર્યુ.

ગઈ શિવરાત્રિએ મારી ઇરછા જૂનાગઢ પહોંચી જવાની હતી. ખાલિસ ભાંગ પીવાની પણ  ઇરછા હતી. જૂનાગઢ જવાનું તો શક્ય ન બન્યું પણ ભાંગ તો અમદાવાદમાં પણ મળી શકે. મેં રૂપિયા આપી મહેશને ભાંગની વ્યવસ્થા કરવા મોક્લ્યો. એ આજુબાજુ ભટકીને ભાંગ વિના જ પાછો ફર્યો. કહે, આપણે બાઈક પર જ કામેશ્વર મહાદેવના મંદિરે જઈએ. ત્યાં પ્રવાહી સ્વરૂપે ભાંગ કે પછી લસોટેલી ભાંગની ગોળીની પણ વ્યવસ્થા થઈ જશે. કામેશ્વર મંદિરે ભાંગ તો મળી પણ પીધા પછી કમબખત નશો જ ન ચડ્યો. મહેશે તો પેલાને ભાંડવાનું શરૂ કર્યું: નશો કેમ ચડતો નથી? મહેશને ગુસ્સે થતો જોઈ પેલો મૂછોમાં હસતો-હસતો વિચારતો હશેઃ નશો ચડવા લાગ્યો છે!!!

અમદાવાદ આવ્યા પછી પહેલું કામ મેં અમદાવાદનો નકશો ખરીદવાનું કર્યું હતું. આ ઘર ભાડે લીધું એ તો બે મહિના થયા પછી. શરૂઆતના બે મહિના હું કાળુપુર રેલવે સ્ટેશન પાસેના રાજનગર ગેસ્ટ-હાઉસમાં રોકાયો હતો. ત્યાંથી જ નકશાની મદદથી હું કાંકરિયા તળાવ, લૉ-ગાર્ડન, પરિમલ ગાર્ડન, ગાંધી આશ્રમ (સાબરમતી આશ્રમ), વૈષ્ણોદેવી મંદિર, એમ.જે. લાઇબ્રેરી એમ ફરતો થયો. એ દિવસોમાં હું જેટલું ફર્યો એટલુ હવે ફરતો નથી. અમદાવાદ ભારતનું સાતમા નંબરનું મોટું શહેર છે, પણ મને આ વાત ગળે વાત ગળે ઉતરતી નથી. સાતમા નંબરનુ મોટું શહેર મને નાનું લાગે છે!

     બે મહિના સુધી હું અવઢવમાં હતો. મને ખબર નહોતી કે અહી લાંબો વસવાટ કરીશ કે પછી ઉચાળા ભરીને રાજકોટ રવાના થઈ જઈશ. પછી જયારે નિર્ણય કરી જ લીધો ત્યારે ભાડે મકાનની શોધ અખબારમાં શરૂ કરી. મમ્મી પણ રાહ જોતાં હતાં કે હું ક્યારે મકાનનું નક્કી કરું. સ્ટાફ-મિત્રો આ કામમાં ખાસ મદદ ન કરી શક્યા. ૨૬/૭/૨૦૦૮ના બૉંબ-બ્લાસ્ટ પછીના એ દિવસોમાં અમદાવાદમાં અજાણ્યા માણસ માટે ઘર ભાડે લેવું એક દુષ્કર કાર્ય બની ગયું  હતું. હોટેલો-ગેસ્ટહાઉસોમાં પણ આઇડેન્ટિટીકાર્ડ વગર પ્રવેશ મળતો નહીં. છ-સાત મહિનામાં તો લોકો આવો કોઈ હુમલો થયો હતો એ પણ ભૂલી ગયાં છે. આખરે દલાલની મદદથી ભટકી-ભટકીને ૫-૭ મકાન જોયાં બાદ ઘાટલોડિયાનું આ મકાન મારી આંખોમા ઠર્યું. આ ટૅનામૅન્ટ છે. મકાન-માલિક નીચે રહે છે, ગ્રાઉન્ડ ફ્લોર પર. ઉપરના માળે અમે. મકાન-માલિક ઇન્કમ-ટૅક્સ ઑફિસર છે. એમને સંતાનોમાં બે દીકરીઓ અને એક દીકરો છે. મોટી દીકરીનાં લગ્ન અમદાવાદમાં જ થયાં છે. નાની સર્વિસ કરે છે. દીકરા (નિસર્ગ એનું નામ)ને મગજની બીમારી છે. ઉંમર સાથે શારીરિક વિકાસ થયો છે, માનસિક નહીં. શરૂશરૂમાં હું એને હીંચકા પર જ ઝૂલતા જોતો. કાં તો ફિલ્મોનાં ગીતોની કડીઓ લલકારતો હોય, અથવા તો અંગૂઠો ચૂસતો હોય. વાર્તાલાપ તો એની સાથે થઈ જ ન શકે. મેં એક વાર એને પૂછ્યું હતું, "કેમ છો?" એણે મને સામે પૂછેલું, "કેમ છો?" પછી મેં પૂછ્યું હતું, "પપ્પા છે ઘરે?" એણે મને સામું પૂછ્યું, "પપ્પા છે ઘરે?" અત્યાર સુધી એના તરફ્થી મને કોઈ તકલીફ થઈ નથી. હાં,  ક્યારેક રાત્રે એ બૂમો પાડવા માંડે ત્યારે ત્રાસ જરૂર થઈ આવે. રાતના બાર-એક વાગે પૂરી સોસાયટીમાં એની બૂમોના પડઘા પડે અને અધૂરામાં પૂરું ક્યારેક કૂતરાંઓ પણ એને સાથ આપતાં હોય એમ ભસવાનું શરૂ કરે અને મધરાતે હું ઊંઘમાંથી ઊઠી ગયો હોય એવું ઘણી વાર બન્યું છે. નિસર્ગની એક ખાસિયત છે; ઘરે આવેલ દરેકની સાથે તે હાથ મિલાવી સ્વાગત કરે, અચૂક. હમણાં જ આશિષ અને જિજ્ઞાસાભાભી અમદાવાદ ભ્રમણ અર્થે નીકળ્યાં  હતાં અને ઘાટલોડિયાના અમારા મકાનનાં પ્રથમ અતિથી બન્યાનો રૅકોર્ડ એમનાં નામે થયો. નિસર્ગે જિજ્ઞાસાભાભી તરફ હાથ લંબાવ્યો હતો. ડરતાં-ડરતાં પણ પરાણે હસીને ભાભીએ પોતાના બે હાથ જોડી નમસ્કારથી પતાવ્યું હતું. ઉપર પહોંચ્યાં પછી મેં ભાભીને કહ્યું હતું, "શાંત માણસ છે. તમે હાથ મિલાવ્યો હોત તોપણ કંઈ ડર જેવું નહોતું." ભાભી બોલ્યાં, "પણ મને ડર લાગતો હતો કે હાથ પકડ્યા પછી ન છોડે તો?" મને થયું હતું  કે ભાભીને કહું કે એ બિચારો આશિષ જેટલો સમજદાર થોડો છે?

પત્ર લખવામાં ઘણો સમય ચાલ્યો ગયો. હજુ ઢગલાબંધ કામો પતાવવાના છે. આવતીકાલના પિરિયડ્સની તૈયારી કરવાની છે. આજનાં છાપાં વાચવાનાં છે. શરદબાબુનું જીવનચરિત્ર "આવારા મસીહા" પૂરું કરવાનું છે.... માટે વધુ આવતા અંકે.

તારા મમ્મી-પપ્પાને પ્રણામ. હેત્વીને મારા વતી રમાડજે.

પત્ર લખજે. જોકે રાહ તો હું તારી પણ જોઈશ. પત્રને બદલે તમે બધાં જ અમદાવાદ આવી જાઓ તો આનંદ આનંદ .....

બસ એજ.
                                                                             -હિતેષકાકા

My grandma

          Kashiben Vallabhdas Vinchhi. That was the name of my grandma who left this world on last 25^th of August at the age of 78. As I write this I remember all my childhood vacation days spent at Jamnagar, at my grandma’s home with my three uncles. That was 25-30 years ago.

         In our Indian households, a daughter’s son is always a special member of entire extended family and, no wonder, is spoiled accordingly. My three uncles were just like famous Uncle Ken of Ruskin Bond, eccentric, unmarried and always hard up for money. Still they pampered me with whatever they had. Sometimes they would take me with them to watch movies or showed me around the city, bought me candies and famous ghugharas of Jamnagar and would bring bicycle for me on hourly rent even though I didn’t know how to ride it.

         Whining and pestering and pressing grandma for daily pocket-money (char-anas or 25 paisa) or for some other things was a daily routine. One thing i liked to do was to observe grandma performing her daily chores. At that tender age, I loved to watch grandma taking out smoulding coals with tongs from the burning earthen hearth after the cooking was over and dropping them into a water container. I especially liked the sound of smoulding coals when they dropped into the cold water.

          Grandma enjoyed complete health during her lifetime. However, mentally she was not that sharp. As a child, I have observed that in her leisure time when there was nobody around except me, she would start muttering, with all her facial and manual gestures, her grievances and complaints to an imaginary group of sympathisers or her critics. I would jokingly ask her, “Who are you talking to, grandma?” and she’d stop for a while and would resume soon after.

            There was a friar, an old, healthy Brahmin with white beard clad in long white robe and dhoti and red topi who used to come daily to grandma’s home at noon for the alms. Grandma would give him a bowlful of wheat floor. I would never let her do that during the times I was there. I liked this old friar very much. I liked to watch his gesture of surprise and his exclamatory sentences with which he would welcome me on the very first day of my arrival: “Oho! So Rajkotians have arrived!”

            It was always fun being at grandma’s home. I waited for the vacation in order to be there. Apart from grandma and dotting uncles, there was one more person whose company I enjoyed: Anvar. The area where my grandma lived was heavily populated with Muslim families. Anvar’s family lived a few blocks away from grandma’s home. We became bosom friends when we were just 7 or 8. We were always seen together, played all sorts of games and talked about girls. He had a fair skin while I was wheatish. Once I asked him what I should do in order to have a fair skin like him and he suggested I should massage my face with goat’s milk. We chased goats together in order to get the milk, and I religiously followed his suggestion for a long time with no satisfactory result. I gave up the idea for good. Soon after 2002 riots, I happened to be at my grandma’s home. Once I was out with Anwar till midnight and grandma and uncles grew worried for me. When I returned, they told me, “You should not to loiter at late nights with Anvar. Who knows what will happen?” I replied I was not worried as long as I was with Anvar. The bond that bound us was too strong to be shaken by any riot on the name of any religion.

         Once when I was in sixth standard, I was taught how to make envelopes in the school. I not only prepared a makeshift envelope, but also wrote a letter to my grandma and sent it to Jamnagar. That I should put necessary stamps never crossed my mind at that time. I knew grandma’s address by heart. When the mail reached there, the postman charged the double amount to grandma which she happily paid considering that it was my first mail. My uncles kept that letter for a long time and then it was lost. I wish I had that letter.

          As I came of age, the charm to visit grandma home diminished. There were long intervals between our visits. Seven years ago, my uncles and grandma came to Rajkot. As they didn’t have wherewithal to buy a house of their own, they stayed with us.

           Last two years were much painful for her. Weakness had overcome her and now she muttered more than earlier. The doctors said she was losing her memory. She couldn’t tell the day. When I asked her, “Which day comes after Monday?” She couldn’t asnwer it correctly or she gave any random day as an answer. In a few months, she lost much of her vocabulary. She forgot the names of things. When she wanted to eat something, she couldn’t name it. We had to take a few names, if one of them fitted her demand, she would nod her head. She forgot people. However, she could remember the names of the family members. Pointing her finger at me, mummy would ask grandma, “Who is he?” “He is Hitesh.” pat would come the answer. We may forget entire world in our last days, but there are few names that remain intact in our memory storage.

            In her last days, she remained restless throughout the day. She complained of bedsore, her inability to move on her own, not being able to take a bath and change clothes on her own. When I saw mom spoon feeding her, I thought life is a circle and we have to finish it in one lifetime. We end up where we started from: feeble and helpless.

         When someone close to us dies, we remember the good that they did to us, the bad they did to us, the good that we did to them and the bad that we did to them. And we experience a strange mix of emotions of sadness, regret as well as joy.

           Every death teaches us something, open up an unknown aspect of life broadening the horizon of our understanding of life and death. Every death you encounter in your life, prepared you for your own death and you learn the art of “dying gracefully”. 

On finding Mr. Right...

A chat on WhatsApp with a friend (FD).... on finding a long-lasting hubby

FD: Don’t know...Good hubbies are not available in the market.

HJ: That’s true, it’s meaningless to get married fast without getting Mr. Right. I

       believe it’s better to wait for the right person to come in our life than getting

       married to an idiot.

FD: True... As far as I am concerned I am more patient in this case

HJ: I appreciate that...but I do believe that one should get married. A happy marriage

      is a great gift a life can give us.

FD: And a sad marriage the worst curse.

HJ: Yeah...Marriage is a very important even in life. Naturally one has to be wise

      before selecting proper person.

FD: True.. Anyway I don’t have time to think about marriage

HJ: It’s a great feeling to come back to home and get hugs from children and spouse.

FD: Maybe

HJ: Single life at the age of forty goes without aim...even parents are no longer with

      us at that age.... No discipline...no compulsion from anyone...a rudderless ship...

      unless you have found your HIGH GOAL of serving people, country or

      downtrodden people... In the absence of any higher goal life at 50 may sound

      empty....

FD:  This is the only reason I give a thought to marriage...and sometimes work is so

        burdensome that it just comes to mind to get depended on someone...but these

       are very dangerous thoughts

HJ: They are not dangerous thoughts. They are reasonable thoughts. Of course, be

       ready to compromise with the image of your ideal partner. Just make sure the

       person is right and possess good qualities as a humanbeing. That’s all. And he will

       keep you happy till the last breathe.

FD: Anyway, I haven’t formed any image in my mind.

HJ: Then do... But do pass considerable period of time with the guy before getting

      married or rejecting him. One week, one month, or even one year and any time

      during this period you realise he is not suitable, don’t hesitate to reject. And if

      during this time you realise he is a husband material, be ready to tie the knot.

FD: Hmmm... actually I believe in divine power...When I am unable to work out the

       things, he manages the things, so someone whom I deserve will surely come to

       me. I am not searching for anyone or judging anyone.

HJ: Depending on divine power in matters like marriage is risky thing to do. And

       judging and searching are wrong words in this context. We are not talking about

       buying a product. We are talking about being cautious.

FD: But i doubt the role of being cautious and judging.

HT : In that case you should meet those who have got bad life-partners and they

        would tell you that they didn’t think much thinking about their spouse before

        getting married.

FD : I would think over all we discussed here……Now tell me when are you giving

        us good news.

HJ : Well I am waiting for divine power to play the role in this regard J

FD : He … He…. He…. J

Brain Vs Heart

The Brain vs Heart is an age-old debate, yet to have any definite and final conclusions. When one is having any problem, one is often advised to follow one’s heart. But the mute point I want to raise here is: What is it to think with brain and to think with heart? Should we give free reign to our heart while deciding some of the most important decisions of our life?

Most people believe that those who think with their brain or mind are more often than not calculating or shrewd people, devoid of any feeling or sensitivity towards others. In contrast people who think with heart are supposed to be merciful and benevolent, devoid of any malevolent intentions towards any one. If we think deeply, we would realise how far we are from the truth vis-à-vis taking recourse to the brain and the heart.  In fact when one thinks of any issue with heart, one is bound to ignore some of the most important facts thereof. And here lies the danger. Ignoring some vital facts may be convenient for the present purpose but it may prove highly dangerous in the long term.

On the other hand, taking help of the brain or mind while tackling any problems help us see the problem in totality and think straight. Thinking with heart often hinders our capacity to reason. We feel like everything in the garden is rosy. The most important decisions of our life are not made with heart and heart alone. They are made with the brain. It doesn’t mean heart is not important at all. But one has to be cautious while taking recourse to the heart. Thinking with heart sometimes makes us do stupid things which not only harm our life but also the lives of the people whom we want to see happy.

In a nutshell, I can say that while there can be no denial of the role that heart plays in our life, what makes life hassle free and worth-living is the application of our ability to think clearly and that comes from the brain. It always pays to heed what our brain has to say on any given situation of our life. 

English teachers and role of text-books and classroom activities

I have been teaching English for the last eighteen years and the question that has always puzzled me all these years is: Why, after learning English for so many years, do our students find it difficult to deal with the English language?  When it comes to expressing their ideas in English whether in writing or while conversing, they cut a sorry figure. How can this happen? In my opinion the answer lies with the kind of the syllabus we design for the learners. Long ago one my colleagues asked me what kind of reforms I wished in English subject text-books. I had replied the text-book which has less content is the best for the teacher and for the student as well. After all these years in English teaching I have realised that prescribed text-books, rather than proving helpful to the teacher, become a stumbling block to him. What is the role of a teacher? The role of a teacher is to make sure that his students learn the subject he is teaching and master it to a satisfactory level. But what is happening in the classrooms is completely distressing. We see English teachers busy teaching the units included in the text-books. Their primary worry is to complete the course! It is natural he diverts from his original role despite his strong desire to fulfil that role honestly. And what happens to the learners? They are tired memorizing the question-answers for the three-hour exams. Where is the romance of teaching and learning in this scenario?

Why is English or, for that matter, any language is taught in schools? What is the purpose? The purpose is to make the students competent enough to express their ideas at whatever forum which maybe an ordinary day-to-day conversation or appearing in the interview or delivering a speech at a particular occasion. But are they competent enough at the end of their schooling? English medium students have the edge over those studying in regional language medium schools because they have studied all subjects in English and have good command over vocabulary. It is often seen that the students coming from English medium schools adjust themselves without much problem to English medium colleges while those who took their education through regional language medium find it much more hellish adjusting to English medium colleges although initially. As the subject of this article is not the medium of education, I would not dwell much on that. Having said that I would like to add that parents who want their children to command a good mastery over English language, need not take this which-medium-is better- for-my-kid question too seriously.  Psychologically, it is proved that the use of mother tongue in schools makes the learning easier for the child at primary level. It also enhances cognitive growth.

While discussing the role of a teacher, Gandhiji, in his autobiography ‘The Story of My Experiment with Truth’, has noted that the teacher himself is a text-book. He believes that when text-books become mandatory ‘the living word of the teacher has very little value. A teacher who teaches from text-books does not impart originality to his pupils’. English or any language as a subject is quite different from other subjects taught in schools. While designing the course for any language, it is vastly important to keep in mind its utilitarian aspect. More so when it is English language which is completely different from Indian languages. A glance at our textbooks is enough to see that there is no leeway for the teacher’s role. He becomes just a pawn, always worrying about finishing the course before the due dates given to him. Now there may be times when the teacher wants to teach his students about a particular aspect of a language, but where is the time for that? As for the students, they are following what their teachers are teaching in the class. If they are supposed to memorise the questions-answers, they would happily or unhappily do it. They want to pass the exams with flying colours after all. This is a rut we teachers and our students have got into.

How does, then, an ideal English language classroom look like? In an ideal classroom a teacher should be given a leeway to conduct a class in the manner he wants. There should be less outside constraints on him. It is he who has to decide what his students would be learning and how. Once all these constraints are removed the teacher will feel the freedom and boost his confidence. He will have space to make new experiments with his students. He doesn’t need costly equipments to do these experiments, but he has at least a TV, a tape recorder and a DVD at his disposal. Classes would be more interactive because they would be filled with a lot of fun-loving activities where students will feel the warmth of the language. They will be aware of the utilitarian aspect of the language. Of course, the teacher will have to be more and more ingenious to make this possible. He will have to come out of the rut and take recourse to all types of material that can be helpful to him to make his class interesting and fruitful to the students. There are enough books available in the market that can help our English teachers to do so. Besides, there are regular training provided by different state-level teacher training agencies. The MHRD is also doing a lot to provide training to English teachers.   

As said earlier the role of a teacher is very important. We need talented teachers who are fully aware of how a language should be taught. Considering the dearth of such teachers it is important to make organise fruitful training programmes for them. During my short stint as a resource person (RP) for District Centre for English (DCE), Rajkot (Gujarat), I had opportunity to train English teachers of my district. While I did come across some brilliant teachers, there were may who themselves were poor English users. I wondered what would they be teaching to their students inside the classrooms if they themselves can’t speak English properly? Grammar was their strong point, but grammar isn’t the be-all and end-all of English language teaching (though none can deny its important). Grammar is just one aspect of learning English. If you master it, fine but other aspects should also be emphasised like pronunciation, vocabulary(graded according to the level), listening (songs, stories, interviews, serials, news, movies speeches, group discussions) reading (stories, essays, articles), speaking (simulations and role-plays, mock interviews, debates)  and writing (essays, articles, stories, songs, drama scripts). Such teachers should realise that it is the time they pulled up their socks and do some worthwhile with their students. Considering the teaching-aides in the form of CDs, games etc available in the market now, it doesn’t seem impossible to do. What we need is just will to do better.

When I think of an English teacher, I think of a teacher who knows his subject well and has complete plan on how to teach his subject to his students. I never doubt his capabilities. If he lacks the capabilities, I hope he will master it sooner or later. All I want for our teachers is freedom from the textbooks, partial if not complete. I have no doubt that given a chance to teach the language on his own terms, he would bring a sea change in their students covering all the aspects mentioned above. The only thing needed is teacher-friendly textbooks which allow a leeway to the teacher and give him freedom to follow his own course. And I am sure he would do wonder with the students.

Guests at Home

The other day while I was working on my pc in my room upstairs, I found that the dust-bin had been knocked down and all the rubbish was scattered on the floor. A bit surprised as no one except me visits this study-room, I put the rubbish back into the dust bin. The next day I noticed the same thing. The rubbish was scattered everywhere. Surely someone rummaged through the dustbin in my absence in search of something, I concluded. But who could do that? It didn't seem to be the handiwork of a rat. It was beyond his capacity to knock down the dustbin. It had to be something bigger. I searched the room to find the culprit but could find nothing.

The next day the same thing happened for the third time. I was forced to don the garb of Sherlock Holmes and search the room following some of his observation tactics described in his stories. This time the culprit had left the clue. And the clue was the poop of the cat, awfully smelly of course. I started searching for the cat and instead found three kittens in a corner. How pretty and cute they were! They looked like cubs (Sinhbal). They got frightened the moment they saw me. Two started running away from me. One hid itself in the corner behind the door. When I opened the door, it snuggled in the corner and closed its eyes as if I won't be able to see him if it closed its eyes! The other took stairs but fell down half the way, not being used to stairs. I wanted to get rid of them but this fear and flurry aroused pity in me. I made a way for the kitten that had fallen down on the stairs but it could not climb up. It was too small and weak to learn that. At last I had to pick it up in order to put him amidst its siblings.

When my mom came to know about them, her first reaction was: "We can't keep them up there or anywhere else in the house. You know, the entire house will be smelly with their poop and who will keep cleaning up all the time?" She opened the gate to drive them away with their mother. We saw two dogs outside. I said, "See, these dogs are ready to pounce upon them if we drive them out at this time. And the kittens are so small that they won't be able to run to save themselves." Thus, the kittens were allowed to stay till they are old enough to fend for themselves. In the meantime I enjoy their company and increase my knowledge on "Catology". After nearly a month, both the mother cat and kittens have put their faith in me. Now they don't run away from me as they did on our first meeting.

What I really enjoy is their behaviour. How they see things, what they do all day, how the mother cat cares for her young ones and how she trains them at night. Once they awoke me at 3 am by jumping on my bed during one such training session. When I give them something to eat, the cat would allow the kittens to eat and would just stand by them so that they can have the food without any fear. It is always mother that can take the real care of the young ones. Why? Maybe because for a mother, the young one is a part of her body literally, wherein the father has played a very minor role. Perhaps that's why it's said that God made mothers because he cannot remain present everywhere and every time.

With Dear Students