Have merged the two blogs, “A Quest” from blogspot, to this one “Overdrive”. Finally. So now there is going to me more eccentric mishmash. Please do NOT desert me! A Quest will go on as usual, but will be adding those so called verses here too 
There is a new tab below the header called Verse (so called, actually 
)
*Puss in boots look*
Please? Pretty please?
Thank you!
28 January, 2012
Today, the Class XII (Class of 2012) were formally bid farewell, by the Class XI students and their teachers. And of course, they bid us, “officially” too 
To cut any kind of story short, it was a memorable occasion, for me. The outgoing students, of course would feel it so, and so also the organizers, the Class XI. But for me, ever since my second born passed out in 2006, six years ago, this had to be the best yet, in terms of emotion, cohesion, fun and frolic. Not to mention a few choked up moments, and poignant wet eyes, especially from the boys
It was a time when teachers, students, both the seniors and juniors shared their experiences of being there at school, recalled fun moments, teased some teachers, remembered all of them fondly, and were blessed abundantly by the faculty. I should also have spoken, I now realize Still, it’s never too late to articulate, here, in my space, what I would have.
It’s about dreams. Not the kind that a reverie is made up of, though, for starters it would do very well. The kind that niggle you, creep up on you, and dwell in your subconscious, pushing up now and then to the surface, reminding you, they are there. Dreams to live in. Dreams to use as wings, and fly! Dreams to take along on mundane moments, knowing they are there, to draw you away to a life you know you’d one day, SOME DAY, have. For, as Langston Hughes, the poet put it:
Hold fast to dreams, for if dreams die
Life is a broken winged bird that cannot fly!
So this day, I’d urge these young ladies and gentlemen, arrayed out in splendour, handsome and gorgeous young things, to find a dream and chase it, much in the way Rapunzel and Eugene, say, in “Tangled”. (Wasn’t that one lovely movie?). To find that thing that would most complete them, and them, THEM.
I’d have loved to share the story I read about a rich, successful and charitable horse trainer, Monty Roberts, a successful one, who, at a party, shared with the narrator of this story, the tale of an impoverished itinerant horse trainer and his young son, who travelled around, so that the young boy’s schooling was constantly interrupted. At his senior year, the boy was asked to submit an essay on what he wanted to be when he “grew up”. The boy pondered much over it, and finally submitted a beautifully drawn out plan and details of owning a horse ranch, down to finest detail of the house he would build.
When the teacher read it, he returned the paper, with an “F”, in red, and a note to meet him after class. The teacher explained that he had done so, since it was an impractical dream, as the boy’s background did not ensure that he would ever find resources for this dream. He assured the boy that if he were to re-do his paper more realistically, he would re-assign a better grade. The boy went home, read it through, and thought deeply.
The next day he went back to his teacher and told him, “Sir, you can keep the “F”, and I’ll keep my dream”! When the narrator asks Monty as to what became of the boy, Monty smiles, and says, “You’re talking to him”. When I read this story first, here, I was charmed no end, and knew this was something I would share with you all, if I were to get the chance.
And, as you dream, you need to remember a valid, necessary truth -
The greatest temptation in life is to confuse dreams with reality
But the greatest defeat in life is to confuse dreams with reality
James Michener
And if I’d one prayer for you today, it would be that you find your dream, cherish it, and keep it close, and when the time comes, let it fly and chase it all the way till it owns you as much as you do, it, for by then, you would be living it!
Remember too, “Be careful, what you wish for, for it may come true”
And I’d go on and end on this note of energy and upliftment, with the story on a poster, on the wall of the Vice Principal’s Office About the African Jungle. It goes like this:
Each morning, in the African jungle, the deer wake up, knowing that they must run faster than the lion, to be able to end the day happy. Each morning, the Lion knows he must run faster than the weakest deer, so that he can live So, no matter whether you are a deer or a lion, start running, at the break of day
God Bless you Always!
*******************
And while I thought these thoughts, and ran them over as you young people went on stage, performed songs, played games, spoke earnestly sharing of your beautiful selves, I was filled with nostalgia, already. I was missing you already. And I was so not ready for the goodbye part. As one smart young man said, Sreejith, I think, “I’m not sad to be saying goodbye to school, for I’m only leaving the building. In my heart, I’ll carry my friends with me!” Wisdom
And Jayalakshmi sang a song from about 14 years ago, from Indira (tamil) “Nila kaagiradhu /neram thegiradhu / yaarum rasikavillaye” – so beautifully, so poignantly, she had me there Having never spoken to her before, I felt compelled to stop her, as she returned to her place, to thank her, and tell her it was beautiful. Later at the end of the function, on our way out she came up to me and said, she wished she had known me and had been in my class. Now, that is perhaps the greatest gift a teacher can be given, and I am blessed to have heard that this day, from a child, a young lady I was speaking to, for the first time Thank you, Jayalakshmi!
And then was the ensemble of Class XII students who enthralled us with a medley of songs in English, Hindi, Malayalam and Tamil. The compering was awesome, Avinash, and the musicians beyond compare Sujith, Reghunath, Aditya, Prasad, … The singers, Ramanand, Rohit, Raj, Ambareesh … and others. The girls, Kavitha, Aishwarya, Saraswathy, Gayathri, Oormila, Varsha and others… The notes were played upon the strings of hearts, with strumming of emotions!!! Applause!
That was the cherry on the icing of the sumptuous fare. And though it ended way beyond the scheduled time, I, for one, was glad to have lingered till the last child was taken home, and be the last of the teachers out of school, at about 7 30 pm. I still have those songs, that performance fresh in my memory.
And that is all the more reason for me to want you to have your dreams chased down, and lived in. Do, please That is all this teacher would want from you
24 January, 2012
#93 (And Yayyyy… I didn’t have to wait for a Sunday )
Yesterday, we had Class Parent Teacher Meeting in school. We’ve had numerous PTA Meetings, where attendance is usually limited to parents who want to make an noise and bring in complaints (never, till date, have I ever seen a meeting here, where something positive, either about Student/Teacher is expressed!), and some grouped meetings, that Parents of some classes grouped together are asked to attend to discuss common matters pertaining to that class. Usually to do with syllabus or general developmental issues (of Children ie).
In the newly patterened meeting, the Parents of one Class, the same division of the class, met together with the Class Teacher and their children, in a full group, had a general session followed by individual one on one meeting for those parents who wanted to have more to say/ask. From nine in the morning to twelve noon the room was fully populated Well I have 52 students, most of whose parents did attend .
A lot of common issues were taken up first, else what usually happens is that the same question gets asked innumerable times. Eg. My son/daughter does not read. How can I get him/her to do so? Or He/She just does not open her text books! What can we do.
(Mind you, this same question would have been asked by the same parent, on all the previous occasions we would have met Do you get the exasperated feeling I sometimes have? ) So these were addressed early, in the whole group, thinking that it would not get repeated later. Boy! Was I wrong! Now I know I shall have even more patience with their kids!
A few pointers were also given. Asking parents to be aware of what their child does on the internet, their use of FB, who calls, what is discussed And also the fact that most times notes are copied over the phone, instead of being completed in class, where they are given time to
The moment I indicated that the general session was over, my table was surrounded. Fighting panic, I suggested the parents join a line that had already formed, to my right, where there was more space. I must admit that they complied. Perhaps because I did not listen to anyone’s remarks/questions/ suggestions, but only smiled, broadly and insisted, patiently that they do. The smile I am sure did not reach my eyes! And, well, they probably knew what their kids had told them about the ogre I could be
While most parents were kind and inquired after my health, and expressed they were glad to see my (typo, do excuse me ) me back, one particular irritable parent came with his stubborn looking son, and his long suffering wife. (This child had, in the previous year, been caught for being part of a group of boys who supplied/exchanged/ shared pornographic films – they’re known more familiarly here as “Blue Films” – in school. Sigh. Please believe this to be entirely true. 
) The child in question, let’s call him A, was all ready for a verbal lashing from the teacher (me) to his father, who was adept at it, and who looked belligerently, daring the teacher to say anything kind about him. I mean, here was a child, who has never had much positive said about him, either at home, or at school (an only child).
Father: Teacher, what do you have to say about him? (Pointing to his son, whose expression was filled with daggers at his father)
A (his thoughts, probably): Dad, can’t you just shut up?!
Me: Oh, A? Yes, well, he’s improved vastly, and he pays attention in class. I must tell you that was one the few children in class who had completed his notes and had even done it neatly. I checked yesterday. Isn’t it, A? (A. nods, quickly looks at father, and the sullen expression is back when he sees no smile on his father’s face.)
Father: But, teacher, he does not speak in English at all!
Me: Oh he does, to me, in English class. And in most of the other classes!
Father: But to others in class, he does not. (all this is spoken in Malayalam )
Me: (Smiling through my teeth )You see, Sir, why does anyone use a language? To communicate. And if A can communicate in Malayalam, when there is no need for him to use it (read, no Teachers are around to check ) why would he? Would you? Language as I see it, is need based, and if they can get by in another language they will. Most kids I know, who can speak English fluently still use Malayalam to interact with each other. All classes. And if he were to continuously speak only in English, he would be laughed at, here. Peer pressure is a strong deterrent, so while I am sorry he does, not, and because we do not have “punishments” to check that, sometimes this happens. But , I assure you, he can speak, and well too.
Father: (more annoyed) But something has to be done! He does not read at all!
Me: Do you? (turning to his wife, who had a deadpan expression, and let her husband do all the talking; I’ve been told that neither her son, nor her husband value her words or opinions) Do you?
Father: Yes, I do. And I buy him books.
Me: Do you read, with him? I mean, during the same time, share things with him, etc?
Father: But he does not! (he hasn’t answered my question, but I’ve had it with him, and am beginning to feel sorry for the child! )
Me: Have you tried incentives? Do, please, and do remember that they’re at an age when it is difficult for them to cope with so much of stimuli around them. I assure you, A will do well, and he will be able to do all of this!
A. by now is looking rather astonished at this exchange, but quickly brings back the stubborn expression when noticed. The unhappy father, the long-suffering mother and their recalcitrant son are then gently signalled off, with a sweet “thank you, we’ll certainly work on this”, and the next parent invited to come up! Phew! I almost wiped imaginary beads of sweat from my brow, theatrically
The next parent had been all ears, at this exchange and the moment she stepped up with her son B. , who is A.’s classmate, she said, Teacher, you don’t have to say anything more! I know what you’re trying to say, and yes, I did want to tell you all about B, being this way. But yes, the peer pressure is a factor we do need to take account of! Thank God for parents like this They give me back my faith in humanity
For three hours, I stood (as did my brethren at school ), smiled, talked, endlessly. But I must say that it was fruitful. We did not give out report cards, we simply shared what we knew of the children, discussed ways and means for their betterment, sometimes complained a little (both parents, and me ), ranted a bit (me ), and I do believe we have all taken away something positive from the interaction.
This meeting was something a lot of us were against saying that it would have been better had it been a bigger group, not small individual class groups, but I know I was wrong in thinking that. Tired, and rather exhausted though I was, I learnt a lot, and gained much by it. For once, I’m happy to be wrong
22 January, 2012
(I’m Keeping My Promise to myself (posting each Sunday), though I’ve decidedly become wordy again! Can’t help it )
#92
16 January, 2012
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Bhavya Grey Kaushik, from FB, and a wonderful writer, had instructed me on the nuances of the Joria, its form, theme, and sent a link for more samples. Perhaps the readers here too, could try their hand at it. What I have understood, is that it is called “Cuboid writing”.
“A Jorio, also known as a Joria (plural) is an ancient Persian writing artform. The poetic cubism consists of four lines with four words in each line. Its short and simple poetic characteristic makes it very easy to write, as there are no considerations of any syllable count – as in the case of other forms like Haiku or Tanka. A jorio is mostly about a moment in time, feeling, thought, story. It can describe an event like a falling autumn leaf or a feeling, like dejection from a loved one. Try not to rhyme it though. I mean, a non-rhyming scheme is not mandatory, but it is appreciable.” It is more about symbolism, about the fleeting, or lasting evocative lingering image it leaves with you As I understand it!
When the last two posts this month, on this blog came to be, they were both spontaneous (only the posting part though), one of them automatically generated, in Statistics for the blog, and the other a long delayed acknowledgement of honours received. That is when I took a look at the sidebar and realized that both 1 and 8 January (when these were posted) were Sundays, and somewhere in the recesses of the consciousness, I heard a promise from a stray voice, I’ll make it a point to post on Sundays I guess that would be one of my alter egos, who likes the order and logic and meticulousness of numbers, and periodicity. I just looked again, now, and that alter-ego prodded. So I thought it would be ok, this once, to do something unbeknown to me, and that is keeping a promise to myself !!
Today, I find myself surprisingly staying close to more promises. I’m not sure though, if I like it yet. It doesn’t feel right somehow !!!
I told myself I would not be weepy and sentimental and maudlin when it was time for a final hug and a smacking kiss for the second born as he takes off for the Gelf, after having him all to myself for the past three months. I wasn’t. Pakka Promise. If I were, would write this? Lol! You know, I’m actually patting myself on my back, for that . But don’t ask me how I’m going to get through the rest of today, when I pry myself away from here, and start knocking hollowly about the house. 
I told myself I’d get serious work done in school, and for a change I did! I’m wading through lessons I would have dawdled over, getting notes completed, and actually making kids feel better by not insisting on some things I’m a stickler for ! Like postponing a speech they have to give, giving them back their PT periods, which, in a fit of sheer exasperation I had threatened to make my own ! What the heck is happening to me, I’m wondering!
2012 is probably The End, else I might not be doing all this. Or maybe I matter to me? Or maybe, my guardian angel is actually prompting me and getting results. Whatever it be, I’m counting my blessings too, and am glad to have been blessed!
I also told myself I’d write shorter posts. Last count, it’s under 420 Yayyy!
15 Juanuary, 2012
#91
They move, wider, surer
They reach out, and grasp
That handful of opportunity
That beckons, tantalizingly
Always a measure beyond
Always seemingly unattainable.
And so, they move,
On belly, then on fours…
Raise themselves, at first tentative
But the steps get firmer, surer
Blindly stumbling, falling, rising
Walking, walking, suddenly racing…
All in no Time, while time stands still
They’re up, and running, gleefully,
Shouting, cheering, in wild abandon
Throwing the right number on the dice
That will take them a pace closer
To the rungs of the ladder on the board game of life
(And so you throw that number, except that it’s loaded
And I’m glad, for one, this game isn’t just one of chance.)
Oddly bereft, odder still, in relief…
I see the light, and though sad, I’m thankful:
The apron strings have loosened…
1045 hrs, 15 Jaunuary, 2012
Godspeed Ashwin! Keep flying high, and keep your cheerfulness up, ALWAYS! With all my love
) )
Bold, brassy declarations
Experimenting always
Pushing the limits-
Their own folks’
And mine!
And, much as I do
Shudder, chew imaginary nails
Worry and rage…
I must confess, that
In their sneaky
Absolutely naughty way,
They have me.
Just that!
28 December, 2011
While supervising a test, my own class, VIII ‘A’
