I do think that English Day
Is indeed a wonderful way
To appropriately commemorate
My Mother’s efforts to educate,
Empower, inspire, guide and steer
Udayachal students year after year.
In my mind I still vividly see
The celebration of her centenary.
Four years have passed so I will share
Some of what I expounded there:
While her mother enjoyed her school
Her father never found that cool.
He much preferred being free
Of unreasonable authority.
On the first day of vacation
Off to the beach or hill station.
And so my mother had her share
Of happy, loving, healing care.
Her father taught her to be free
And always question authority
But from her mother she had a yearning
For literature and constant learning.
All khadi clad they could see
The virtues of simplicity.
Satyagraha was in the air
And granny sought to do her share.
She criticised the colonial curse
With her patriotic verse.
But not content to merely write
She took on the Swadeshi fight.
Wherever foreign goods were spotted
The ladies asked them to be boycotted.
This was a noble sacrifice
But there was a heavy price,
The family was unattended.
How on earth could this be mended?
Jai was the eldest of the lot.
Her brothers very quickly got
A very capable second mother
And all of them helped one another.
Of both home and studies, she took care
And did it all with the greatest flair.
Could she have then learned multitasking?
Alas! I never thought of asking.
Now looking back I clearly see
She was a master of efficiency.
I also think she learnt the towering
Power one wields by empowering.
The theme played out at home and school
Indeed a very powerful tool.
Her discipline was very light
You might well say out of sight.
For a child to grow and live
Reinforcement must be positive.
Then a child will safely cruise
Free of any hurt or bruise.
Her childhood had a lot to do
With the life she would pursue.
Managing her younger brothers
Made her feel she could teach others.
And so she did B.A. B.Ed.
Didn't start with kids but instead
She did a stint of teacher training
I still recall her explaining
That all the students, everyone
Indeed, was older, barring none!
She was convinced that education
Is partnership and participation.
It should be egalitarian
And not at all authoritarian.
And she knew well how to train
No matter what the domain.
Papa knew well his geography
But Mummy didn't really see
The purpose of just knowing facts.
They could be found in tomes or tracts.
Without knowing the Aral Sea
How could she teach Geography?
She would respond she needn't know
The facts by heart for knowledge to flow!
It happens that a girl is told
Her pretty head shouldn't hold
Elaborate thoughts beyond her ken.
Perhaps a conspiracy of men.
At Gamadia school my mother taught
English Lit, a class well sought
By all the students in the school
But mother played it by the rule.
When called in as a substitute
The joyous girls, quite astute,
Yelled, "Poetry, Poetry".
A subject that they loved, you see.
But the period had been designated
For Maths and so she elucidated
An abstruse theorem lucidly.
A Math dreading girl, could quickly see
The logical explanation.
For her, it was a revelation.
A subject that used to make her tense
Suddenly seemed to make some sense.
"So! There's reason in Math," she gasped
An insight belatedly grasped!
My childhood now, I should mention,
Was filled with care and attention.
Quite early on she could succeed
In teaching me to love to read.
She taught me bridge, she taught me chess.
The most intriguing, I would guess,
Was how the chess lessons went
As very little time was spent
On detailed instructions. In fact
Her technique was full of tact.
The practice games were very fair.
With a handicap she took care
That I was motivated and keen.
The first handicap was her Queen
Then Rook and Bishop were removed.
Quite steadily I then improved.
She always gamely played her best.
On my own steam, I passed each test.
And when all was said and done
Without a handicap, I won
And she was most pleased by my win
Not the slightest sign of chagrin.
What seemed to me like her defeat
In her eyes was a teacher's treat.
My mother grew up by the sea
And that is where she loved to be.
Wherever salty air was found
And waves would make a sloshing sound
With the sea breeze's caressing balm
She would feel at peace and calm.
Each Thursday afternoon we'd reach
The very peaceful Juhu Beach.
At first we'd swim in the sea
While usually it was us three
Just, Papa, Mummy and me
With a cousin or friend occasionally.
And once we returned to land
We would then walk on the sand
And I would sometimes chase a crab
The slower ones I could grab!
I'd carry it for a little while
Then let it go with a smile.
In '63 away she went
She was selected to be sent
To study child psychology.
I wonder what was the necessity
Of sending her with her natural touch.
She didn't need to learn that much.
She enjoyed her Oregon stay
And learnt about the American way.
Now Bonnie her hostess one day got
A traffic ticket but she was not
Of any mind to contest.
But Mummy somehow thought it best
If Bonnie had her day in court.
Now even if it came to nought
It would serve as education,
American justice in operation.
In court all of them appeared.
Actually the worst was feared
As Bonnie had done a rolling stop
And yet the judge chose to drop
All charges since she apologised
And also cleverly apprised
The judge, no cars were then around
And Mummy thought the judgement sound.
The end of Mummy's studies
Coincided with those of Adi's.
They then met up and travelled far
All the way to the USSR.
Both nations then were poles apart
And that I think was the start
Of their appreciation of free enterprise
A choice that was indeed most wise.
When I came back from the USA
I stayed with them and not away.
For fifteen years that was my life.
And then one day Rati, my wife
Came along and joined us all.
Papa was truly in her thrall
And Mummy welcomed her as well.
And everyone could clearly tell
That they were showing signs of age
As life had turned another page.
Osteoporosis caused Papa pain
And Diabetes was Mummy's bane.
On and off they would grouse
But then the doctor in the house
Was comforting for everyone.
Dear Rati thanks for all you've done.
Three bouncing boys then came along
But Rati was very strong.
With kids she has a charming way.
With older folks a greater sway.
Although Mummy was wheelchair bound
With us she could move around.
One year we went to Nepal.
Mummy, us, kids and all.
And we were waiting for a plane.
No aerobridge. I racked my brain.
One Sherpa, very short but tough,
Did not seem to me enough.
He then took Mummy piggyback!
But Mummy wasn't thrown of track.
I was aghast, she was unfazed.
And all of us were amazed.
For Mummy was always down to earth.
Probably right from her birth.
Much of her life had been spent
At Udayachal School where she went
Along with Papa thrice a week.
That is how she chose to seek
A perfectly balanced life
As teacher, mother and wife.
She'd teach one class all the way
And seeing them day after day
For years on end, she'd know them well.
She'd rope me in occasionally
And when I went, I could see
Her class was always full of noise-
The lively talk of girls and boys,
Cooperating in their work.
No one would ever think to shirk,
For learning seemed like so much fun.
And very soon their work was done
And they were free to read or paint.
The syllabus was no constraint,
The topics would range far and wide
And anyone could well decide
What new tack the class would take.
And they were all free to make
Their observations known to all.
No contribution was too small.
Always friendly, never stern,
She merely taught them how to learn.
They felt they learnt on their own steam
This helped improve their self-esteem.
Every one of them stood tall
And learnt respect for one and all
And that stood them all in good stead
And all her students forged ahead.
Before you think I'm going gaga
I think it's time to end this saga.
But because she showed the way
I am what I am today
And many others feel the same.
She taught us how to play life's game!
