Creativity Curbed

Teaching. Doing that for 14 years now. Love it. Or rather loved it. Love children. Teach to students from 11-16 years old. In a Government school. To the so-called lower strata. Mostly first generation learners. At times results are up to the mark. And at others they are not! Depends on the batch we get. Teaching depends on various factors, mainly on the kind of students and the syllabi, which keeps changing after every few years.

While teaching we need to be flexible, depending on the time and the topics to be covered. Some take a while and some finish fast. And then feedback is by taking tests. These need to be evaluated, time consuming! But has to be done. Then class work, homework to be checked. Shortage of time. But we do cope and keep teaching as our main priorities. As long there was flexibility, coping was no problem. We could teach in our own pace!

But it all seems to have changed. The administration is planning for us what to teach! Weekly syllabi to be followed. Can we do it? How can we? If on a certain week there is a holiday or holidays, it slows down. And we cannot take topics at our own behest. We are used to alternate difficult topics with easy ones. Which keeps student interested. But now with all this binding, our creativity is curbed. Spontaneity is barred. Practically not feasible. But who is listening? Not the department! How can one teach with this kind of stress and tension?

And suppose I take leave. How do I finish my course? How do I deal with the backlog? And most important, do I get blamed for my illness which I might have had and hence the leave? Or what?

What is the higher up thinking while making such atrocious policies?

Love for teaching? Getting eroded slowly. Am I to be blamed? And how do I function in such a situation? Change my job?

Is there any solution?

How can I leave something which I have always loved and always will??

So painfull to comprehend!

Reflecting in the middle of the night

Unable to sleep. Sitting here in front of this computer I am typing away to glory!
Reflecting on my life at 3.02 am. Why? What? How?

Do I have answers? Will I ever have? Don't know.

Why is it so difficult at times? Why do I have this unsettled feeling? Maybe because it is so very late. But then I have been like this for some days now. Depressed. Morose. For no apparent reason. Or there is? The questions I do not want to answer for myself, how do I expect others to understand? Can anyone? And why not? Maybe I am rambling? Maybe I want my mind to be read. My problems to be solved without my uttering a word! Arn't I expecting too much? Am I?

Remembering Dad

In our hearts, you will always remain
In our memories and all moments that are sane
Looking back, we see you everywhere
In every nook and corner you are there
You held our hands and wiped our tears
Always caring for us all those years
Maybe at times we felt stifled
But at no time you were ruffled
With your patience you made us feel loved
When by very life we were shoved
There are feelings we cannot describe
In our hearts and minds those are inscribed
Although in spirit you are always there
Oh dad! We will miss you forever.

The other side

There is so much truth in the saying “what goes around comes around.” Never was it true as it is now for my life!!

I have been educated in one of the famous all girls in Delhi. I was a fairly good student. Though not exactly the teachers pet. Never could be! I was one of those students who could never sit still and always asking questions. At times disrupting the class. My hand was up even before our teacher asked any questions. I was scolded most of the times for my antics but it did not affect me at all. But I was never rude, not at that stage! My dad was not aware of my doings till I was in the 12th STD!

I did very well in my 10th board. Was forced to take up science. Wish I had not done so well! I had wanted to take up humanities but dad insisted I take science! So here I was studying Physics, Mathematics, Chemistry, Biology and English. I was only interested in my English and Mathematics classes! (Now I am thankful to my dad though. I am deeply interested in the Physical sciences!)

To cut a long story short, we had a very boring Physics teacher. He used to talk nonsense and never encouraged any questions in class. Pretty difficult for me. I found a perfect solution.

Right in front of him, I used to take out a Mills and Boon romance and my lunch box. So here I was busy reading and munching my food nonchalantly! For a few days I did not get caught but for how long? When he did see me, I was thrown out of my class. My dad was called. He couldn’t believe I could do this. Needless to say, my dad was angry with me. He stopped talking to me for a couple of weeks. I was not sorry for what I had done but I sure did not like my dad going silent on me! Very painful 15 days. But he came around eventually.

But did I change? No. Only thing, I became a backbencher and got on with my novels and food! But in retrospect I think my teacher let my by.

Now that I am a teacher, it has come a full circle! I have to deal with precocious kids, though not bad as I was.

Hooked to Haikus!!

Adorning my grave

Blooming, blossoming
Flowers from the bough
Adorn my grave

Calming Sounds

Hustle bustle
Sounds of the bazaar
Calm me down


Melting

Hot winds
In the middle of summer
Melt my ice cream

Disturbing

This news item in the newspaper deeply disturbed me. I am unable to get it out of my mind.

A businessman (32) shot his wife (30), (she has survived) with a country made pistol. After that strangled his seven-year old daughter before throwing her from his seventh floor balcony. He threw his sleeping nine-year old son too from there.

His sister and mother too were staying with him but he did not harm them.

According to him, he tried killing himself but the pistol jammed.

He sites financial difficulties but his family and friends say it was not apparent to them.

The big question is, what motivated him? And why? Why didn’t he jump after throwing his children? And why did he spare his sister and brother?

Will these ever be answered? Will he be able to live with himself? What about the mother of the children? Why? How? What?

Deeply unsettling.

Not So Short Poems

Girl in the rain


Waiting by the tree
In the pouring rain
Saw her finally come to me
Walking along the terrain

Water streaming from her hair
Visage shimmering in the rain
Attitude of not a care
Oh! Wasn’t she vain?



Craving for the sea

Roaring, frothing wild sea
Oh! How beckoning to me
Rising, swirling waves
Make my heart crave
Sailing in there forever
And come out? No, ever!
Wishing the sea to be my watery grave
It’s the only thought I save


Life and Death

At her birth, smiles around
And she was crying her heart out
Smiling now, heavenward she is set
Those around her have their eyes wet

Lost innocence

Lightly on the eyes and lips
And on all the other senses
Feeling and touching so sweet
No regrets for lost innocence






Conquering the world

Visible the world to us
That was indiscernible
Tangible the world to us
That was intangible
Know the world we do,
Which was unknowable
Understand the world we do
Which was inapprehensible
Conquer the world we have
Which was unconquerable



Smashed


Saw you sitting on the sidewalk
Something drew me, made me talk
In no time we were friends
Unknowingly we held hands
Wistfully you touched my hair
I looked into your eyes without care
Embracing and kissing
Did not see the world passing
It went on for a while
Felt as if the heavens smiled
Suddenly you walked away
Shattering my dreams
And in the process smashed
My heart to smithereens

Soulful Haikus II

Drowning sorrow

Swirling, whirling
Rains in the by lanes
Drowns my sorrow


Unknotting

Rays of the sun
Unknotted my thoughts
As thick as sin

Spiraling Waves

Snaking, spiraling,
tormenting ocean
bows at my feet


Tangled

Tangled, entangled
Creepers in the vineyard
Follow our lead



Silence

Melodious songs
Of the birds
Shame me to silence

Haridwar

Haridwar. The very name evokes the Holy River Ganges. Faith. Devotion. Belief. Piety.

Har Ki Pauri. That’s where the Ganges flows. Walking on the riverbanks, with Sadhus, Sadhvis and people from all walks, rich, poor, different cultures, regions, religions, but with a common thread. Reverence, veneration for the Ganga.

As the sun sets slowly, the evening starts at the river bank with oil-lamps, earthern-lamps and drumbeats. Crescendo.

Indescribable feelings. Beyond anything.

The river. Flowing, fast, furious. Icy cold.

When I took a dip there, my mind went completely blank. No thoughts. No reflections. No musings. Revelation.

Does everyone have this feeling? Is this what is spirituality? Thoughts becoming no thoughts? No questions in the mind. No answers. Abstemious. Ascetic.

The Ganga does this to us. Strengthens. Rejuvenates. Restores devoutness, piousness.
Washes away ……more than our sins. Makes us aware of our own mortality.

Soulful Haikus

Leisurely, cunningly
Flee the bucketing storm
the besieged soul.

Invigorated, liberated
Yesteryear’s convoluted past
a fresh beginning.


Poignant reminiscences
Veil underneath the setting sun
Silhouetted in the dark.