Sunday 21 July 2013

Assembly through a kaleidoscope

          Teachers' quarters were very close to the School premises, so it was customary with us, those who resided there, to walk our way to the school building. And all we found was a great commotion on the road; a mad rush for the Morning Assembly to make it in time. It used to be a curtain raiser for another day's monotonous regularity of pedagogic trial. I was hurrying my steps along with my room mates Trilochan and Upendra, as few bikers and their pillion riders frantically waved their hands at us in greetings. Autos overtook eachother and a few from it yelled "Good Morning Sir", which was immediately followed by a cackle in unision from within it. As we reached the entrance, Ajju's bike almost skidded and slewed by us from behind. Hi!! high fives were exchanged. He was hailed by many a kid at the top of their voices-"Morning Sir!!"; liberty always seemed to be their freaking right with him.
            The sky was overcast and I could sense some confusion in the form of pre-assembly-gathering near the Assembly point. P.T.I.s and few senior faculty members were wondering if Prayer could be held in the assembly-yard or arrangement needed to be done in the  respective classes. We immediately headed for the staff room to relieve ourselves of our handbags; junior sections on our way, were a complete pandemonium and I chuckled to myself with amusement.
                                 The bell rang and rising noises in the class rooms and corridors presented a war like preparation to occupy the courtyard. Students from upstairs were runnig down, almost pushing each other, as it was an open battle field that time. Screeching brakes from the buses, autos, cars and bikes at the entrance gate announced the eleventh hour arrivals , and jumping, running kids with their backloads to the building , darting for their classrooms to throw their stuffs and then returning to the point almost tumbling over each other made a scene.
                   Senior students started pouring in padding across the first floor corridors; just after the juniors were made to fall in line by the teachers. All had assembled, but the class teachers of tiny tots kept scowling at them to make them behave. Few were still arguing with each other, perhaps the matter could not be settled in their auto; few were eagerly enquiring whether or not the teacher of their utmost dislike had reported sick;  few were anxious of their games period getting spoiled due to bad weather conditions; and few wore a serious look-some home work issue perhaps. By the way the Principal with great condescension appeared from his chamber and as usual took an instant dislike to the backrow chatter. Alarm signals were transmitted, and by the time he reached in front to face the assembly, there was a pin drop silence. The bespectacled girl from the senior section cleared her throat to administer the routine prayer-cum-oath.
          "We"......the entire gathering stretched their hands in parade like precision....."we"; they echoed. "The people of India"---sweet lullaby like voices from the left rows repeated--the people of India. "Having solemnly resolved to "----few wavering voices with poor pronunciation were drowned in the panache displayed by many. "Constitute India into a " ---the assembly could hardly reiterate:- constitute India into----Bang, bang---a firecracker from inside the lavatory upstairs boomed.All of us got startled. A fit of the giggles was fairly audible from among the boys; even a chuckle of delight broke in the other half as well. It was  the second improvised, controlled explosion in less than a week. Teachers queued in the back , knew which stream was to be blamed. Students even knew who were the culprits. P.T.I.s running upstairs knew well the incense-stick trick. Changing nuances of our beloved  Pinchu's facial expression was a treat to watch. He had failed till yet to pin the blame on anyone; mere suspicion won't work. But his reticences were more revealing than what he could have actually lambasted.
       "Sovereign, socialist"------the girl conducting the prayer continued with hesitant voice, after all the prayer must go on------"secular and"----the assembly could hardly suppress the titter....."democratic republic". This very word "democratic" puzzled me since then-----'oh.....yes our kids knew exactly what it meant, they knew the very pith and substance behind it and so the firecrackers were timed to salute it, though this time it went off a few words earlier.
                       But the prayer must go on-------as it guarantees in it's later parts "liberty of thought and explosion"-------oooops sorry "expression".
                               From Rajesh Pandey with love.

Sunday 14 July 2013

Once Upon a time in D. A. V.

"Nostalgia" : yes our whatsapp DAV group could rightly earn this epithet for the group name. When I received the invitation to join it, a few days back , a long suppressed yearning to re-live those freaking jolly mood of class rooms in dream corridors of D.A.V. ; surfaced immediately. Though as per the temper of the group , "Nostalgia" was replaced almost immediately with many upbeat ones ; starting from "DAV Gang" to the present "Pinchu ki Pathshala".
                    Years have passed ; so many drastic changes have occurred in every one's personal and professional lives. We are all scattered around different parts of not only India but the globe as well. Few among us are complaining about finding themselves in corporate purgatory with soul crushing tedium ; few find them condemned to the claustrophobia of family life , to suck it up ; few still don't give a damn to whatever goes on in life. I, though , at peace with my present job which is turning out to be more and more a sinecure, find it devoid of self satisfaction which a 40 minute of classroom interaction could always produce. So it was a much needed deja vu of old charms to all of us.
            I regard my 4 year teaching experience at D.A.V.Bilaspur as the golden period of my life. Becoming a class teacher of 11"C"; commerce stream was a culmination ; just before my departure from there. I still recall each and every one of them with tenderest fondness. Their mischiefs always matched their skills : a strong cocktail of youthful exuberence and childlike pranks. Totally unaffected by the damning indictment by the faculty ; the corridors of D.A.V. were always bustling with these teenage pranksters. Being their language teacher I don't know how far I succeeded in whetting their appetite in communication skills; but it struck a chord , and struck on both the sides. The obvious outcome is my still being here with them ; sharing their PJs as a friend.
          Youthful misdemeanours of DAV days still seem to serve  as a meme to the present group. And that's the spirit..........Let yourselves go guys !!!!!!!!

                                                   Rajesh Pandey