Ancestral home

My memories of close relatives and our chatter among ourselves still echo in my ancestral home while most of those beautiful people have left their earthly abode and adorn the walls in nicely crafted photographs,  I searched frantically for free space on the wall wondering if I had any space left on the wall and the hearts of people living still.  A huge gap between my visits created a unfillable vacuum into which many living acquaintances of the past have vanished with just their memories still living in my mind- the laughter of my cousin, the cot on which my uncle used to sleep, small table where we would sit and have heated debates with no conclusions, the verandah where we used to sit whenever there was power cut.  I am amazed to see that those memories are still a part of me, very much active in some  beautiful but sad corner in the depths of my heart - it appeared to me that I am as much a dead living, these memories are so intense and deeply etched that I longed for more of those -  may be somewhere deep within the depths of my being is a memory of my creation, just waiting for it to unfold.

Water

Teacher

It has been a long time since i remembered my teachers.  Once in a while, when i talk to my friends- this subject turns up about our school days at V.T.College, Sriharipuram, Visakhapatnam.   Those were the carefree days - but what i remember vividly are the teachers who taught us.  Sitaram murthy -alias kepudu(he would blast once in a while) but what a teacher he is?  At the old age of 65, he used to teach mathematics with such flair and passion.   He would use nasyam(tobacco powder)in his nose.  I had this brilliant telugu teacher - anaparthi somayajulu(need to confirm his name) -alias pandudu(he has a golden complexion).  He mastered all literate in telugu, known till that date.  Our english Sir - Prakasa Rao(we used to call him Peggotty).  He was good too. Social master Jambudu was a tall man as well.  His class on political science is unapralleled.  He used to speak in whispers. My first teacher was my mother, she was very sweet.  My second teacher was my father.  

Mad Man

Dont know why I intended to write about a mad man.  But here is a brief context, everyday as i go to my office from my house about half - way i see this man in ragged clothes.  Perhaps he didn't take bath for months.  May be he was like you and me once.  How deeply can we go and analyze his mental state? What prompted him the way he is - his circumstances, this society or perhaps something else.  Does he get a head-ache sitting in the sun.  Doesn't he know that the society has discarded him?  What makes him feel bad?  Why is he looking at each vehicle passing by with such great intensity?  Is he expecting a friend to pick him up?  Wouldn't we respect the same person, if we learnt that he is a genius?  What would happen to his future?  What a pity his family has disowned him.  While these are the thoughts that cross my mind; I see him happily sitting in the hot sun, waving at everyone.  He has an innocent smile.  Is laughing at us for our 

A trip to a school for the mentally challenged

On Friday the 29th evening, my colleague Sitaram told me that they are visiting a place in Palamaner around 140 kms from B'lore to engage/entertain children with mental disabilities.  I asked him, if i can accompany and he agreed.  It was 30th morning and as usual, my Big Daddy told me if it was so important.  I somehow ignored him.  So we went to this place under the banner of "TMAD"(To make a difference) - the four of us - kamal, sitaram, koti reddy and myself.   On the way, Dad would send me subtle messages - "You are wasting your time". I ignored him again, then he told me "Okay since anyways you have decided, share some of your joy with them".   So, when we knocked on the hostel door-promptly came a muslim guy with white cap unlocked the door for us to get in.  There were 40 odd inmates.  Both Deaf and Dumb, kids with Downs syndrome, kids with paralysis, kids with no families - from all age groups until 15 yrs I guess.  This was a new experience for me.  They invited us whole heartedly.  Dad has a lot of reservation, he wouldn't allow me to touch them.  But once i started to mingle with them, it was fun.  Took some of their pictures and they really loved navigating on my htc mobile.  I never knew Mobile phones have this fan-following(even mentally challenged people seem to like those).   Some of my observations.

• I went with a view to entertain them.  But they entertained me. They are more happy inwardly then i am.
• I thought my material abundance makes me richer.  While outwardly, they seem to be wanting a nice shirt or watch or mobile.  They were very happy inwardly and had a great degree of comraderie among themselves.  I can show off some of my material riches, but inside i didn't have anything to give. 
• After all the fun, when we had to leave - those children so gracefully bid us farewell.  I have no words.  If i were in their place, i would have been so selfish to let go of a beautiful occasion. ( i waited many times in the movie hall even after the movie was over -didn't want to let go).
• I am very unhappy with an imperfect world and i dont have a place for an imperfect world.  But they are at peace with it and they have a place for a perfect world as well. 
• I am not okay if i am threatened.  These guys are perfectly at ease with it.  They are ill-treated at times by the inmates.  But after a brief lull, they are friends again. 

Kamal needs a special mention here.  His organizational skills were awesome.  He went about his duty like a soldier in a battle field.  

If you have read upto here, you should be wondering who was that "Dad" I was referring to- well, the answer is "My mind".

If you want "to make a difference" to your lives, go ahead and enjoy .. Dont ever think of "making a difference to their lives".  They are already happy.  

government school

When did you last visit a government college or school in India? I had to get some certificates attested by a Gazetted officer. I know these kind of requests are very weird, time consuming and out of place. But still some systems demand these. So, i walked into a shop and asked him who on this earth can be called a Gazetted Officer. He pointed me to a "Sub-registrar office". I repeated my story. The peon said, just across the street there is a "Government college". Principal of that college can attest your documents. Religiously following his instructions, i went into the college. Nobody checked me. I walked directly into a small but spacious building. There is a good open space in the middle of the building covered by plastic sheet to reduce direct exposure to sun. I guess the same open space doubles as a prayer hall. Classrooms are somewhat dark, without any lights. Classes are very noisy. Class rooms have pretty minimal furniture inside as is the gray matter inside the teachers. I waited outside a classroom where this "Principal" is teaching accountancy 101 to students. I could overhear some terms like "Share price", "Base price", reading balance sheets etc., I am absolutely certain for most of the students these would mean nothing in their real life. I am more than certain that most of the students have never traded in stockmarket, nor read a company prospectus. I am also certain that their genealogical ancestors wouldn't have traded in these modern instruments (mans creation to equal the ingenuity of God with a small difference - God makes it simple, and man makes it complex). Looking at the class, it reminded me of my childhood, the uiseless classes i used to live through. It was kind of dejavu. I convinced myself that this kind of education would be useful in the future. After all who am i to comment on these. This reduced my depression a bit. A bell rang which disturbed my thoughts. I sat there reflecting a bit about education and what i would really envision it, if i had it all my way. I thought i would first remove the bell. Fill the classrooms with light. Reduce the contentious/continuous evaluation we do of students, which fill them with fright. Let the students interest fly and find their home. Have a space for teachers so they can speak out their heart. This is what my heart tells me. What i found is exactly opposite. Both the teacher and students have no freedom at all. How can we say, we are free. We are not free after all. We are slaves of a system that we defined and created. Suddenly principal finished his class and reached his room. I hurried inside got my certificates attested, thanked him. I returned happily since my work is done. But that system remains, taking away the creativity from scores of people. It turns more and more students, teachers into prisoners, who would latter create more and more of the same. I am shamelessly one among those.

what is waste

What is waste? Have you ever pondered over this question? I have and i don't have a definitive answer. What is wasteful in the short term may be of use in the long term. Carbon waste over time could become diamonds. Animal waste over time could become manure. This is all known knowledge. When i started living in my home 5 years ago; there were two small tree saplings just in front of my house. Instead of cutting them as usually the case, i let them grow. Unfortunately these two trees are not fruit-giving trees of some value. They are trees from forest, which drop their leaves Feb-May; during the other times they are fully green. Everyone would suggest me to cut those trees since they are waste and they don't have any value. There would always be a litter of dried leaves in front of my house which have to be frequently cleaned. After some push, i really started to entertain the thoughts of cutting those trees. Couple of days back, i was seriously reading a book and suddenly i heard sounds similar to those made by hen. I came out to investigate it further. To my surprise there were 7 to 8 white cranes on top of the trees which i thought were pure waste. They were lovely white cranes blissfully sitting on the branches of these trees and swinging back and forth. I started paying little more attention and i saw couple of squirrels have made this tree a home. They would eat the fruit of the tree which is not fit for human consumption - but looks like squirrels can happily feed and live on them. You could realize nothing is a waste, provided you can pay proper attention and wait a little longer. I hope the same thing turns true in my life as well.