At one of the places where I teach, many of the children are brought up in the belief that the teacher is next to God. They are silent in class, not bold enough to speak, rarely confident enough to tell me that they did not understand something. It's a huge obstacle I have to surmount with each new student. Thanks to this, and because of the fact that punctuality is the responsibility of the parents of a seven-year-old and not the child herself, I didn't say anything to two children who were repeatedly late for my class. One day, the children, accompanied by their mother, came fifteen minutes late, and I seized the opportunity to tell the mother that this was not acceptable. Duly apologetic, the mother promised that it would not happen again. I thought the matter was over, but sensed undercurrents of something I could not quite place. One girl, not one of the late-comers, glanced … [Read more...]
A Problem I Never Solved
"This is my favourite! I like it more than you." This argument always bewildered me as a child, and bewilders me even now. I can never know how much anyone else likes anything. The rose may be your favourite flower, but it may not be mine. Yet, I may like it more than you do, and no one can prove that one way or the other! As a child, the more confusing problem was different. I looked at the sky and saw that it was blue. You looked at the sky and said that it was blue. How could I know for sure that the blue I saw was the same as the blue you saw? When I grew older, I learned about the science of colour. Wavelength, and all that. Maybe that ought to have convinced me, but it didn't because I learned that animals are colour-blind. What we see as so attractive in flowers, animal-mates, etc., doesn't look the same to them at all! So, that number associated with the colour was, finally, … [Read more...]
The Generation Gap
Children who know me as didi, a senior in dance class, often have trouble figuring out whether I belong to their generation or their parents' generation. Sometimes, I have trouble with it too. I was teaching two children with exactly the same problem. Often, they believed that I was in their generation, on their side, so to speak because I came from the same school, had some of the same teachers and all that. Yet, I was their teacher, so could not possibly be one of them. Once, while I was teaching them, it was pouring. It was not a thunderstorm, but a typical monsoon shower that peters out into a drip-drip-drip but does not stop. With a weekend ahead and no tests coming up, the idea of holidays made the girls restless. I finished five minutes early, much to their relief. I looked out of the window and said, "If it stops raining, you can play all evening today!" They threw me a look … [Read more...]
One-Arm-Distance
Children in dance class believe firmly that the closer they are to me the better I will be able to see them. I try every now and then - very ineffectively - to explain that this is not the case. "If you stand a little far, I can see you completely," I explain. "Otherwise, I can't see whether your arms are right, legs are neat..." For about thirty seconds, they keep their distance, and then, slowly, they sneak forward till I say to them, "You're dancing on my head again." And then they shriek with laughter, go back, and start the process all over again. During theory class, when everyone is sitting on the floor, I insist on at least one arm's distance. The children find that hilarious too because they associate the phrase with PT, not dance theory. They begin one arm's distance away, but in ten minutes, they are close to me again. Somehow, they inch forward even while they are seated, a … [Read more...]
Cool Cans
When cans of soft drinks were launched in India, they were both ridiculously expensive and ridiculously cool. I remember the summer holidays - four cousins in Bangalore, always hungry and always asking for ice-cream or cotton candy or, in the case of my cousins, soft drinks. I, sadly, did not like anything aerated, so I did not have the chance to strut down the street home with a cool can. My grandmother allowed money to be wasted on cans just once. My cousins, both boys, were excited. The younger one opened his immediately with a satisfying sushhh and downed it before we were home. My elder cousin, being the sweet elder brother, allowed me to open his. I knew that it was a privilege that was difficult for him to grant, and so, I was extra careful. I asked him what to do and listened very closely. Gently, I slid my finger into the tab. Step one successful. Fingers trembling with … [Read more...]
Cut
My sister and I often got invited to the same parties. Once, when I was about seven, both of us received birthday invitations that had a fancy RSVP slip that had to be cut along the dotted line. Below the dotted line, it said: I can/ cannot attend your birthday party. (Please cut one) I took my scissors and painstakingly cut out 'cannot'. My gaping hole became a bit too gaping though and I went sadly to my father. Both 'can' and 'cannot' had fallen victim to my scissors. My father laughed out loud, I remember, and explained that 'cut along the dotted line' was with scissors, but 'cut one' was with a pen. Now, how was a seven-year-old to know that? I remember how self-righteously upset I was! My father being my father, though, sat with blade and pen and altered my sister's RSVP slip, making it 'We can/ cannot attend your birthday party.' Then we had the joy of signing both our names … [Read more...]
Twins
My sister and I have repeatedly been told how alike we look. A few have also told us how different we look, astounded that we are sisters. The former is more usual, though, and two instances stand out. As children, a gentleman came up to us. "Excuse me, but are you twins?" Taught never to talk to strangers, we were on the defensive. "Um... No..." The gentleman laughed, embarrassed. "You see, my wife and I see you from our balcony everyday, and we've been wondering..." We found the episode more than a little weird, but there was another more recent and more direct incident that made us laugh out loud. Particularly when we are dressed similarly, people are struck by the resemblance. At a wedding a few years ago, we were both decked up in saris. A small girl, probably about four years old, was staring at us. After gazing at us unblinkingly for a few seconds, she … [Read more...]
First Day at School
I moved to a school in Pune when I was five years old. I was like any other excited girl in the first standard with my new tiffin box, my new water bottle and my new bag with new books. I came from a smallish school in Vashi, so even the city was new to me. My first day still stands out in my memory. In my old school, when it was time for us to eat, our teacher used to tell us, "Come now, children, open your tiffin boxes!" In my new school, when the bell rang, we were supposed to eat. Nobody told five-year-old me. I remember clearly how hungry and grumpy I was when school got over at 3:30. I remember how angry I was with my seven-year-old sister for not having told me that I should have eaten. I even remember that my mother laughed when I got home. What I don't remember is this: what was five-year-old Varsha doing when fifty one children in her class got up and went out … [Read more...]
Arbitrary Right
A little girl in my dance class was confused. "Which is your right hand?" I asked. "This one?" she suggested, tentatively, raising her left hand. "No," I said, gently, used to these problems. "That's your left hand. The other one is your right." "NO!" she said, crossly. "That's your right." I smiled and demonstrated to her, "This is my right side; this is my left. That is your right side; that is your left." The little girl turned around so that both of us were facing the same direction. "Now which is my right?" she asked, triumphant at the thought that she had fooled me. I held her right hand. "This one." "How?" she moaned, upset with how fickle I was. "You said that window was my right hand!" … [Read more...]
On Being Old
My grandmother was very ill, and a friend was talking to me about how difficult it was to see my grandmother like that. A little girl, one of my students, was listening to the conversation. Once my friend had left, she asked me, "Miss, what happened to your mother?" "Nothing happened to my mother," I replied, smiling. "Then who was Auntie talking about?" "My grandmother." She looked at me with big, round eyes. "Your grandmother is still alive!?" "Yes!" I replied, surprised. "All four grandparents are alive." Realising that I was lucky in this respect, I asked, "Are yours alive?" "Of course!" she said with a puzzled shrug. "But I'm young!" I, on the other hand, was 24 years OLD. … [Read more...]
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