Poetry, Articles

My Travel’s Conundrum

– To going back to how you felt and what you see! –

One and a half months before, Rovin and I undertook our journey across Central and South India studying some of the best alternate education school models in the country. This is one of the excerpts from our journey.

Our first destination is a school in Pune called Gyan Prabodhini. A school set up in the year 1969, it is a ‘world renowned’ school in Maharashtra. Haha, yes this joke is still doing the rounds! Anyway, Rovin would definitely have heard of this school before. He must have come across its existence in one of his myriad conversations with his friend-folks sometime. The thing with Rovin is that he knows too much, loves to eat even more and is extremely hilarious. He is hungry for three things: knowledge, food, and bad jokes. Once while we were standing in a queue to wash our utensils in the office, he mentioned to one of our colleagues that he is right now standing in “Katar” (meaning “queue” in Hindi). After a brief pause, with his eyes gleaming as he opened his mouth, he said that he is not in “Qatar” (a place in middle-east) but in “Katar”. His jokes are mostly as legendary and epic as this one. Now, everyone can guess what it means to be around him. It means an endless ‘Qatar’ of jokes. He is the Uday Chopra of bad jokes, basically!

Unlike Rovin, I had not known about the existence of Gyan Prabodhini until my mentor at Vision India Foundation, Nomesh Ji, told me about it on the day when Rovin and I met him to discuss this journey which we were about to undertake. He had just thrown to us the challenge to travel and visit the best alternate schools, learn from them and come back. “All of this has to be done in one single trip”, he said. “How is this even possible?” I had found myself thinking. Before I could add a flame to the fire to my mind’s thoughts, I saw Rovin and Nomesh Ji already starting to plan which schools we should visit, the number of days we should spend at each school, and other details. I like to live in spontaneity and this is the most spontaneous unseen adventure in a long time that was being unfolded in front of my eyes. I was also a part of the discussion now but was mostly watching my senior folks spreading the magic with their work. Truly inspiring!

After almost an hour of brainstorming, we had finally selected six schools: Gyan Prabdhini in Pune, Shishuvan in Mumbai, Vande Mataram Foundation schools in Hydeabad, Rishi Valley School in Madanapalle, Isha Home School in Combatore, and Aurobindo Ashram Schools in Pondicherry. We would be covering these schools in a period of almost a month with our travel starting from the first week of September.

I have lived in Meerut for the most part of my quarter-life. It is a place which is 60 Kilometers from New Delhi. As a kid, the only time when I went outside Meerut was when I had to visit my grandparents’ home in Roorkee or visit my aunts and uncles in different cities. Belonging to a lower middle class family, travel was a luxury and hence we had it in limited doses. This limited travel instilled in me the fear of travelling so much so that I would ask a thousand questions to my sister and mother whenever I had to go to any place outside Meerut; asking the bus conductor where to get down also was a big task at times. This fear continued until I went to Bangalore alone for the first time. Wipro Technologies was kind enough to have given me an offer to come and work for their company and I had readily accepted it. Within a year though, I had already left my job and had gone into the wild. One year later, I had already traveled the length and breadth of this country; from Ahmadabad to Bihar; and from New Delhi to Hyderabad. Travel became a part of my existence and a fearful boy had suddenly become fearless. But I had never done a travel journey like the one that we just ended up planning. One month of continuous travel, meeting people, visiting schools, learning about education and re-educating our own understandings about the existing systems of education is something that was challenging and exciting at the same time.

Two and a half months later, when I reached New Delhi railway station to travel to Pune on the morning of 9th September, like a thousand times before, my train had got delayed. Searching for the place to spend the next two hours, I found an empty bench at the far end corner of platform number 4 and sat on it to open and write in my diary. There is a thing about diaries. It not only tells you who you are right now in the moment but also who you were a while back and what you aspire to become in the future. As I started to write, my mind again transported back to the day of our meeting with Nomesh Ji and Rovin. After all the planning was done, the inner voice within me asked a very important question. It was probably the most important question that anyone should ask. Or was it?

As I paused for a while, with Nomesh Ji and Rovin’s eyes, ears turned towards me, I asked, “How would we wash our clothes while travelling continuously?” It did not take me much time to comprehend the absurdness of this question. I was waiting for my senior fellows to make me remind the same.

“Don’t worry! It will not be a problem. You will figure it out.” said Nomesh Ji.

Rovin, on judging the situation perfectly came to my rescue and told me that this is the last thing that I should worry about. Of course, I knew it. The question was absurd but the answers were beautiful. The boundary of being always trying to be correct and being yourself was broken, in my mind and heart. I was certain now that when you are just yourself, and you have people who knows and respects who you are, you have reached the right destination in your life.

I gave a little smirk to my own foolishness as I remember this incident. I could now hear the sound of the engine from a distance. The train has come a few minutes earlier than scheduled. As I laughed off this incident, I began to put my bags on my shoulders. I had a baggage now but I had lost my inhibitions; of travelling, of always trying to correct and being someone else. I had begun my journey to Pune, the city of virtue and knowledge.
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Philosophy, Poetry, Articles, The Journey!

Chinky & Cheeti! – A Story on financial literacy.

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100 little listeners!

Once upon a time there lived a young girl of 12 named Chinky in Haripur Krishna village. Her parents had a big farm where they would grow different kinds of vegetables but it was the Neem tree, standing tall in the middle of the farm, which was her favourite. She called him, Neem, her only friend who would listen to all her stories and make her problems go away. She used to love eating all kinds of candy-bars from the money she would get from her parents. Eating them with Neem was her favourite task every day which would make her very happy.

However, today is the day when Chinky is happy for another reason too. It is a day when her younger brother, as foretold by the local priest, is going to get born after 12 long years. The atmosphere all around is filled with laughter, chatter and happiness.

In the midst of all that, Chinky is sitting alongside her father and gulping a candy-bar that she has bought from the money that her father gave early morning.

“If you spend all your money on eating candy, what gift would you give your little brother?” her father asked.

“You will give me the money, Daddy.” Chinky grinned.

Both father and daughter were laughing when suddenly the doctor came out and said the words they all have been waiting to hear.

“Congratulations! A baby girl is born.”

The celebrations and the laughter stopped out of the blue. Chinky’s father sat on the floor crying looking up at the sky. As for Chinky, she could not understand what has happened.

“Why is everybody sad? I have a sister to share my candy now. This is a good thing, right?” she asked herself.

She ran down to her father who was talking to the local priest.

“You told me that a boy will take birth today. How can this be true?” he sobbed.

“Daddy, give me some money. I want to buy a gift for my sister.” Chinky asked politely.

“Go away! You will not get any money and the girl will not get any gifts from anyone.”

It is for the first time that Chinky’s father had talked to her in a rude manner. She started crying and ran towards Neem hoping he would help her somehow; the way he always does.

“I don’t understand why my father behaved in such a manner, he was so happy for
the arrival of the new baby and all of a sudden he became tensed and even shouted at
me, I have no money left with me after spending it daily on candy-bars. Please help me
get a gift for my sister.” she told Neem.

Of course, there was no answer from the other side.

She asked Neem again; begging him to give her the answers but there was none.

Devastated, she got furious at Neem and shouted, “This is the last time I am coming here, Neem.” and started to snivel louder. A slight thought of how she could have not eaten those few extra candies crossed her mind.

Suddenly, just as she was to leave his old friend behind, something painful bit her on the right leg. Looking down she saw something which would change her life.

“Hi! My name is Cheeti.” a little black ant said coming out of the cracks below Neem’s roots.

Before Chinky could say anything, Cheeti spoke, “I live below these cracks and when I heard that you will not be coming again, I started to fear for my family and decided to come out.”

“Why? What do you fear?” Chinky asked in astonishment.

“Every day when you come here and eat your candy-bar you leave crumbles all over the floor. After you leave, me and my family take them away and deposit it in our Food Bank. So, if you’d stop coming, there will be no food left for us.”

“What is a Food Bank?”

“It is a place where we save our food after we have eaten ours for the day. A food manager saves our food from other insects and after sometime gives us more than we initially submitted. This way we save our food for times of crisis.”

Chinky never thought that even small crumbles of her candy-bars has been helping an ant feed for her family.

“Don’t worry Cheeti, I will not stop coming here.” Chinky said wiping off tears from her eyes.

“Thank you. Also, I can tell you how you can get your sister a gift.”

“What? How? I don’t have any money left.”

“No worries. Just like ants collect little crumbles of food and save it for later, you need to collect and save little crumbles of money and then ask your father for help. He will guide you and take you to the money bank. And when you have enough money saved there, you can buy your sister any gift you want.”

After listening to Cheeti, Chinki got excited and thanked her and Neem for helping her.

“Thank you for helping me, my Neem and Cheeti!” she smiled and wrapped her arms around both of them.

At home, Chinky’s father was searching for her all around. He has realized that it was not decent of him to shout at his daughter and wanted to apologize. When she came home that day and told him the entire story, he was moved by her daughter’s desire to give her little sister a gift. He took her in his arms, apologized and promised that he will help her.

For the next few days, Chinky saved every penny her father gave her and finally took all the little crumbles of money to the village bank. 

“Please save my money here and give me more after sometime, I want to buy a gift for my little sister”

Amazed, the manager looked at her and giving her father a form to open a bank account, asked, “What will you give her?”

“An ant home.”

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Poetry, Articles, The Journey!

Our Storytelling Class !

If any of you have been following my posts lately on Facebook or blog, you must have seen me surrounded with kids. Now, some of you might think that I teach these students or I am just interacting with them. I am doing both, actually. But, I am doing something more, I am learning, from them.

It was a day of one of my storytelling sessions with these kids. I told them a story of a girl who was very good at almost everything she does, be it, Math, Sports etc. However, there was one thing which she couldn’t do, no matter how hard she tries. When her teacher would ask her to draw a perfect shaped circle, she couldn’t make it. She will do one mistake or the other every time she tries. Her teacher would scold her, tell her to try hard, to focus, but the girl started to believe that she will never be able to make a perfect “Gola”.

One day while she was sitting in her room depressed, she decided to try her hands one more time at drawing the perfect “Gola”. She tried and failed. In her frustration, she decided to tear apart the piece of paper. As soon as she was about to tear the paper apart, she saw the irregular shaped “Gola” coming to life. It grew bigger and bigger and slowly his eyes became visible. Then, his nose, ears and finally, his mouth also became visible.  The girl couldn’t understand what is happening with her. She got frightened and a thought came in her mind that she might be dreaming. She pinched herself on her hand to wake her up.

“That is what they do in movies” she thought.

But, it seems that she wasn’t dreaming after all. It was absolutely real. She has now started to get worried. It was then that she realized that the piece of paper is still in her hands. She decided to tear it apart, in the hope of destroying the creature that has come alive. Just as she was about to tear down the paper, she heard a sweet timid voice murmured.

“Please do not tear me. I am here to help.”

The sweet voice melted the girl’s heart and she decided to not tear the paper down and listen.

“How can you help me?”

“If you help save me, I will teach you how to make the perfect me.”

The girl wondered how did this creature know that she was struggling to make the perfect circle (Gola). Nevertheless, she had come to a point where she wanted to try everything just to bring the perfect shape alive.

“Save you from what?”

“This is not the real me. I am equally fat everywhere and now I am irregularly shaped. If you do not rub me and draw me again, I will always live my life like this and other Golas will laugh at me. If you save me from laughter today, I will tell you the magic trick to make a perfect Gola.”

The girl wanted to learn the magic trick which could end her agony. Thus, she rubbed off the “Gola” and drew him again. It was still irregular. But the girl was not frustrated anymore.  She rubbed him off again, drew again. For the whole night, she did the same practice again and again but it was still not perfect.

Just before dawn when she had almost given up, she tried for the 1001st time. And this time, she found a perfect shaped Gola.

The girl couldn’t be more happy. She was jumping with joy and laughing with her long lost soul.

“Thank you for saving me” Gola said.

“It is okay. Now, please tell me the magic trick.”

“You already know.”

“What? But you didn’t tell me?”

“I did not. But you learnt.”

“Practice. That is the trick.

When I stopped telling this story to the students, they were all filled with ecstasy and looking up to me with amazement. You never know, maybe, some of them will try to make their own “Gola” someday.

What did I get? I learnt. By telling these kids stories, I learnt the satisfaction of giving, the joy of being with them. I am sure that I will learn more.

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The Storytelling Class!

 

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A kid trying to make a perfect Gola!

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Philosophy, Poetry, Articles

On That Day, the Hazel Love!

On that day

When I look thou eyes

I see a tinge of hazel

Soothing enough to calm down nerves

On that day

When I see you smile

I saw salvation

And chants of love

On that day

When I feel thou lips

I see a tear roll down thy eyes

The Salt helped the glue

Inseparable flu

On that day

When I hold you tight

The air sees to cease

The bones crackled as bits of heart

On that day

When you touch me heart

And gave me the lap to leap

You hold me in our world

On that day

When you touch me hair

A child’s laughter reborn

The tenderness softened

On that day

When you went away

I ran away

Oblivion dismay

On that day

When the tear kisses the eye

It search thy eye

For it is alone aloof

Separable

On that day

When I look me eye

I see no more

For it searches the hazel

And the love

On that day

When I speak

I feel the dryness of the world

And the air breathing life

On that day

When I see the night

Without thy smile

I see

Only the dark

On that day

Hold me in thy world

Give me no air

See me hazel and green

See me night

See me, child.

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Poetry, Articles

The Second Time – Part 3 (The Conclusion)

Read the previous part of the story here: The Second Time – Part 2 (The Past)

Yes. I do remember the first time we met. How can I forget those cuts on your hand? Pranav said.

“Do you know why I got those cuts on my hand?”

“You never told me.”

“When I first talked to you, the comfort that I felt was something that I had never ever felt before with anyone else. I saw through you by just talking to you. I saw in you a person whose heart is as pure as a new born baby and who has the mind which has the capability to conquer the world. So, when Anamika told me that it was you who is the reason of all the misunderstandings between us, I did not believe her. It was not you. It was me. But, I couldn’t say what I felt to anyone. How could I? But, I was sure of one thing.  That is, you could never be the reason of anyone’s sorrow, especially the reason of my sorrow. ”

(Pranav felt his whole world has shattered in front of him. He remembered the time when Priya would ask her not to drink enough to do something for which he’ll be ashamed of. He neglected her advice. He neglected that she is the one who had seen him through.)

“Over the course of last 5 years, I did nothing but surrender to you. I did nothing but believed in you. And today, I see all of that being undone. I am not hurt because you cheated me. I am hurt because our ‘love’ lost.”

“I know that I have let you down, Priya.”

“You have let our love down.”

(Even in a situation like this, Priya did not resort to ugly conversations that generally might happen during this period. That was her uniqueness. She is someone who will maintain her calm even during the most trying times. Her heart was crying but her words, soothing. During their earlier days of relationship, when Pranav would ask her how she managed to find courage in the most difficult of situations, she would say, ‘There is a thing about courage. You will find it at the most unexpected places, during the most unexpected times.’)

(Pranav had now realized what a big mistake he had done. It was evident when he mustered all his courage to tell both Priya and Rumita what he’d been up to. Rumita had cursed him of cheating and literally asked him to never see her again. He had never tried as well. Priya, on the other hand, told him why she loved him. Was it love or madness?)

(It was at this time that Priya did something which no one in her situation might think to do.)

“Why do we fall, Pranav?”

“What?”

“As a child, when we’d try to stand up for the first time on our own feet, we generally would suffer a big fall. At that moment, our parents would tell us to try one more time. They would clap, smile, make faces and do everything in their capacity to get us back to trying. As a result, we try once more and we start walking. This is the first lesson we get how to live our lives.”

“I love you, Priya. I am sorry. I cannot take back what all I have done. But, please tell me, how do I make all of this better for you and our love? ”

“Learn your first lesson.”

“Try once more, Pranav. You have taken the fall and now, you need to try and stand up. As for me, I will be there to give you a hand. I will be there to bring you back on your feet. ”

Pranav felt numb. He started crying his heart out and it was almost impossible to console him. He never imagined that his betrayal of Priya would give him a lesson that he desperately needed to learn. He never imagined that a simple act of forgiveness could give him peace.

“I love you, Priya.”

“I know that you love me. Now, will you please wipe off your tears?” 🙂

———————————————————————————–

5 years down the line as Pranav was in Priya’s home sitting in front of her father, Priya said, “Dad, this is Pranav, and I wish to marry him”.

She paused, laughed and said with all her heart, “He is the most courageous person I have even known”

“Courage is not to do what seems right at the moment but to to do what is forgiving. Pranav realized that one act of forgiveness from Priya made him what he could never be;courageous.”

(Most often we take love for granted. But some people amaze us by their unconditional love and support. These people will be there with us when we‘d fall down. These people are different women in our lives; mothers, daughters, girlfriends, or wives. Love them. Just love them.)

 

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