Long time - again and again. Not busy though. Just deteriorating on the ‘drive’ front. Doing useless things more often these days - pleasing people etc.
Had been to our South Canara. Looks as heavenly as ever. The neatness. The charm. The beauty. The people. You can find me post 40 probably there. Sitting on an armchair with a glass in hand and watching my wife telling the neighborhood gossips. Growing exotic fruits and vegetables. Whats the fun in following a conventional protocol in life! Study,work,work,work,invest,insure,breakyourhead,regret,work,work,work,doctor,astrologer,doctor,work,doctor,retire,join laughing clubs,sleep,die.
A female who looks and talks like a dream reminded me of my school days last night while talking. And incidentally I learnt about a IX Std. boy committing suicide because he got beaten by a lecturer and was made to kneel down for a couple of hours for not doing his homework. It was on news.
Flow through,
Corporal punishment is always a silly idea. It achieves little, hurts a lot. Depending on which part of your anatomy gets the stick. In our time it was the posterior.
Sardar Patel High School was the only school I ever went to. I joined it at 4 and passed out completing my Std. – X.
No, I wasn’t caned for not doing homework. In our time, students were far more irreverent. Not doing homework was the least of our transgressions. But the ecology of schools was so different then that even when we were punished, we took it easily in our stride. Studying was never a big deal. Learning was. And the real things I learnt out there were either on the Cricket field or in the King’s ring and, yes, I made a few friends who have stayed on for life. That’s what schools were about in those days and SPHS was a fine example. It was there that I learnt music, theatre, writing, and how to whistle and wink. Geography I learnt much later while travelling the country. Poetry I found after I unlearnt Tagore and D.V.G. History I picked up from the movies. But the subject I hated the most, maths, is the one I love today thanks to KNM who taught me the art of artfully resolving any complex mathematical problem.
Caning was commonplace then. No one gave it a second thought. If anything, your classmates saw you as a hero if you got whacked. Like the time the watchman caught me and my friends climbing down the waterpipe behind the school at night trying to steal a workbook as it had in it my friend’s love-letter for his sweetheart .The work-book was lying on my teacher’s desk for correction. A sudden burst of pigeons from the corner of a ledge woke him up and almost killed us. Well, we paid him Rs.100 and bought his silence. Rs.25 each. Another time I was caned for scribbling notes and sleeping simultaneously in the classroom. I was also whacked for helping a friend during an exam. The notes in his underwear had fallen off. The hardest whack I got was for locking up a lecturer in toilet. Yes, me and my friends did that. It’s a long story though.
Yes, we were punished for many reasons. But we never felt humiliated. We went back and did the same things again, just making sure we were not caught. Caning was like a badge of honour. We were heroes every time the Principal announced our names sternly at the morning service and called us to her office. We knew what that meant. But it never embarrassed us. In fact, I took bets on how many whacks I would get. Three was the max. I always got away with one. I suspect we were caned only because the Principal felt it was her duty to do so. It was an intrinsic part of the Coming of Age ritual. There was no viciousness there. Nor a mistaken belief that caning would make better young men out of us.
Today, the entire ecology of schools has changed. The charming irreverence that made our years there such great fun has all but vanished. What we have instead is a strange combination of fear and stress. The love, the warmth, the humour, the camaraderie that was an intrinsic part of our growing up years has gone. Everything is judged purely by academic performance, the marks students get. It’s an edgy, competitive scenario where you perform or perish. Everyone’s under great pressure. When I got a first division, I remember how disappointed I was. It was not what I wanted in life. I would have much rather run off with the female under question long ago. That would have been so exciting. I am not liking what I am doing now as well. Growing up sucks, believe me.
It’s this ecological breakdown that makes corporal punishment look even uglier. When a young boy in Class IX kills himself for being caned it can only mean one thing: A total breakdown of communication between him and the world around him. School is not where you go just to get some good grades. It’s a place where you grow up, make friends, learn a few sports, discover yourself and the world around you. And if someone whacks you once in a while, you take it in your stride. There’s a whole world out there to be conquered. You can’t give that up so easily.
I am on my way to conquer. How about you?
Thanks and Regards. -- Shit, see this. This is how I am supposed to send mails at office with this signature line. The habit continues here.
Lets get rid of it. I dunno why I should thank for every email that’s sent. It’s my effort. The recipient should thank me instead.
Impatient and (offlate)useless,
Jd.
Now this looks perfect.
