1084, 1084 ki maa and nandini

What is common between: eunuch, conversing with a gentleman in 11 pm in night, I used to pass by on Tilak bridge while walking past matunga to dadar for my 12^th classes, commercial sex workers roaming around and attracting men at the fort, mumbai and dead body of a1084 numbered naxalite – for me they represent that part of us which we disguise not only because they represent the DON’Ts of socially acceptable behaviors but also probably out of envy in not being able to ‘experience’ the other side of us that’s stifled out of fear of being rejected in society..? I am longing to be with them, to know them as they are, to understand why they chose to be?

Read Hazar Chaurasavi ki Maa by Mahashweta Devi.. as always thanks to Ranoo, for recommending me this book - not only recommending but putting a copy in my hand. A small book of 130 pages talks about a naxalite as a protagonist, strongly putting forward two images of India – one consumerists and other exploratory, experimenting, concerned, revolutionary, at times cynical..

I fell in love with character of Vrati. Seemingly indifferent to begin with, but as the story unfolds came to know the deepness within him. He chose life out-of-ordinary and was killed as 1084 numbered naxalite. He supported his mother, Sujata, who has been staunch in her own beliefs as an independent and confident woman but put those out - first out of family pressure and then due to indifference out of mundane life. Her husband is typical; dominant, unscrupulous, having many relations out of marriage, flamboyant .. Vrati’s other 3 siblings are more or less like his father; only Vrati, his mother and their maid Hem are different. With such a small piece of novel and few words only someone of caliber of Mahashweta Devi could have made it so impactful.

Seeing the trajectory of life chosen by Vrati and his love Nandini - the reasons behind their choices of revolutionary path they have chosen, the idealism in early twenties, how it gets shaken by some of vested interests.. There is reference in the book saying in 1970s there was time, when generation of youths between 16 to 40 in Bengal and around has been almost wiped out after being killed by police. These two and their like-minded friends were compared with their siblings who are consumed by their consumerists lifestyles lost without any aim, however outwardly successful – What an irony!

Frankly I am not capable to understand Sujata with my maturity and understanding. I felt like she is majorly biographical portrait of Mahashweta Devi in her 50s and also culmination of many of those women who were sensible enough to live a life having their say but got lost somewhere.. There are many subtle layers to her characters effortlessly and completely elaborated by Mahashweta Devi with minimum words and incidences. Unlike her I could relate with Vrati and Nandini as they are about my age. I guess I would require 3 more decades atleast to understand her.

I was so much moved by the impact created on me by the book alone, I enquired to know more about Mahashweta Devi. Thanks to Google, I could know her from her Magsaysay award declaration. She was a professor of English literature, married early and took divorce. She spent later part of her life in doing social activism, choosing to be among tribals and oppressed class forming their federations. She wrote books depicting their struggles. Thus the books did not remain as fictions alone but have been portrayed as stories of unsung heroes. Reading her entire life story was an experience..

I couldn’t resist myself from seeing the film by one of my favorites filmmaker, Govind Nihalani. I downloaded 12 sets of 10 minutes versions from youtube and watched it! Looking the genre of book, someone out-of-ordinary like him could have directed it with this fineness. I am mostly a man of films than books, you can say I prefer 2D over 1D ( and not 3D). Having read the book first, I was so curious to relate to characters from book to that of films! I knew what was going to happen after that.., their conversation, dialogues. I wondered how it would have been, had I watched film without reading the book or have read after watching film.. No doubt, the film made justice to the script, the sensitivity of the issue. The film is so subtle, multi-layered. What I find good - in a good film is that director leaves many of the things to the audience to interpret; many of conversations do not happen with only dialogues as medium but also gestures and postures..much is said when actually left unsaid. Govind Nihalani, being a cinematographer turned director, the simple yet meaningful frames of the film makes it a wonderful experience. There couldn’t have been a better climax, where Sujata is sitting in her room and writing diary reminiscing his son Vrati with a dim light partially lightening her face and coupled with simple yet meaningful dialogues. I simply wished I could have cried to express myself! Govind is like my alter ego – if I turn to film-making I would do it after being a cinematographer and would probably follow same genre of films.

Sujata by Jaya Bhaduri is aptly performed with the required emotions, intensity as portrayed in book. I understood her as detached person describing two opposite worlds; that of her husband and son with her own inclination towards later. She has not expressed herself by own but more through Vrati and Nandini –that’s the beauty of characters! No doubt, Jaya Bhaduri played it well, but don’t know why she doesn’t touch me beyond a limit, she still keeps it close to rationale and maybe incapacitated to touch out-there.

Sujata ponders after meeting Nandini: Something has died inside Nandini. Will she never become normal again? Never be a wife? Never be a mother? From the light on the road, human beings, each and every part of this land – she loved. That person would never become mother? And one who can’t tolerate a child, changes men in life one after another, need cocaine after wine, goes places without any aim – those mothers in their loveless, careless life would give birth to children! ‘What a wastage!’

Joy Sengupta is awesome! I loved him and was beyond ‘joy’ seeing him playing a marvelous character like Vrati. Well, it’s a dream to be enacting a character like Vrati who is effervescent yet deep. He looks terrifically handsome, 20 year old idealistic, caring, matured, intelligent guy. I am remembered of Naseeruddin, Om Puri, Irrfan Khan seeing him. I wondered where is he lost after this. He has lot to offer. I longed to be like him..

Sujata remembered Vrati saying: It’s difficult to be yourself..

Nandini, Vrati’s love – was brought to life by Nandita Das. Both she and Joy are tailor-made for their roles. She not only represented her part but put forward the idealism, frustrations, hope, helplessness of the entire generation which opted of guns in their hands instead of a secured future. It’s convincing enough. Her face, body was in absolute resonance with what she was saying. She said all that Vrati was undergoing in front of his mother but couldn’t convey her when he was alive, growing to be a man from a boy. I loved these three characters; Sujata, Vrati and Nandini from the book and the way they were given life in film.

Nandini after released from jail after inhuman torture says to Sujata: I find myself agitated, disturbed and imbalanced. All seem unknown, un-identified. I cannot identify myself with anybody. With last few years experiences have made me unfit for this so-called-normalcy. What you feel as normal, seems abnormal to me.. what shall I do, tell me..?

The climax is not there in book. The book although ends on many questions, intensity, leaving you perturbed; the film ends with a very positive message. The end where Sujata is writing her diary addressing Vrati, was a tribute from a common man to people like Vrati, who live their life not shortened by duration it was lived, but for their madness - finding meaning out of it, for a personal commitment.

Thanks so much Mahashweta Devi and Govind Nihalani..and... Ranoo and Youtube!

Irom Sharmila's Poem

When life comes to its end
You, please transport
My lifeless body
Place it on the soil of Father Koubru

To reduce my dead body
To cinders amidst the flames
Chopping it with axe and spade
Fills my mind with revulsion

The outer cover is sure to dry out
Let it rot under the ground
Let it be of some use to future generations
Let it transform into ore in the mine

I'll spread the fragrance of peace
From Kanglei, my birthplace
In the ages to come
It will spread all over the world.

-lrom Sharmila

Zindagi Milegi Na Dobara – Part 2

Some of my well-wishers say - Its hightime man for you to have worked for last 8 years after your graduation. You should take a break and do some course; it could be development economics, development studies or agriculture. ( Smart enough for not proposing me to do studies in chemical engineering – which I would rather enjoy more after a span of 6 years) With two strong experiences of working in chemical industry after completing my graduation in engineering and not finding much correlation between my studies and my work (Rather I would put it differently that as much as I am able to put the relevance of my study and my work together) and largely in Pradan, where there is hardly any correlation between what I studied as a subject and what I am doing – who would still think that it is relevant to study further! I was wondering how would be it be, if there would be no higher education after graduation. All further studies would have to be carried out on-job as per one’s inclination! So a strict no for ‘higher’ studies. Education has ruined me enough to survive, henceforth let education be another enterprise.

If I could take up options of studying further what courses would I choose: Travelling, Films and Dancing. How about degrees like M. Trav., M. Fil (eqivalant to M. Phil.) or Ph. D. (Dancing)! And all these courses being offered in different institutes.

I want to go for a trekking by associating with Nehru Institute of Mountaineering (NIM). While I surfed the site, I found Basic Course on Mountaineering and Adventure Course interesting and suitable for my initial curiosity and excitement.

I want to do a Film Appreciation Course at Film and Television Institute of India (FTII), Pune which is scheduled every year in May month. Getting admission there is very tough, but what’s wrong in dreaming so..

While doing my graduation we were a couple of guys and gals participated in Gyrations out of blue, absolutely not knowing that we would enjoy so much leave apart the prize we won. I was wondering then, looking at the life of other adults around except film stars – how bad it would be after leaving college, we would never be able to dance except the marriage ceremonies. Why to live in memories? - I am keeping my fingers crossed if Patya, Ashu, me, Samya, Banya, Ratta, Chassy, Mangya could come together and give a public performance once again. Dear Readers, I promise, we aren’t that bad! Patya, are you reading this!?

When I joined company soon after my graduation, on first day I met one of our college seniors in his mid thirties saying those four years of graduation including the hostel life were best – I lived only for those four years! I was so taken aback – would my life be like this when I will be of his age.. I don’t think anyone deserves life to be like that. Kya pata Zindagi Milegi Na Dobara!

I will keep on posting my progress as I complete my Masters and PhDs in times ahead. Till then you are free to pull my leg and inspire me to seriously pursue my higher studies..

A visit to Sahyadri School, Pune

(A Krishnamurti Foundation India School)

25th-26th February 2011

On 25-26th February 2011, I visited Sahyadri School, Rajgurunagar (Pune) affiliated to Krishnamurti Foundation India (KFI) Schools. Famous Rishi Valley School was the first among the series of the schools founded by KFI. Sahyadri School is based on a beautiful hillock of Sahyadri ranges. Bike travel from Pune to Rajgurunagar was an amazing experience.. Following is an attempt to put down my interaction with people I met during the stay. Its a must experience for all those who have slightest lethargy towards mainstream primary education methodology. I am thankful to all associated with Sahyadri School for having given me this wonderful opportunity to explore..

The high point of my visit was meeting Clifford, Madhav and Aditya. In the late afternoon, when I was returning to room after spending time with Amresh Sir, Prabhat Sir; one boy standing outside the common room with a gentle smile and a very special inviting gesture inquired how my day has been? In a place where you are stranger, shying away from meeting new people inspite of having so many questions in your mind. Such an open-ended, inquisitive question made me relieved even before replying to Clifford. We again met but didn’t speak while we were going towards Ashtanchal (During sunset students and teachers dressed in white cloths gather at a spot where they can watch sunset.) There is something magical about Clifford that was difficult to figure out in such a short span of time..

After returning from Asthanchal, (a routine practice where all the students and staff dressed in white kurta-pyjama, at the time of sunset go to a point, from where they can watch sunset - to be with close association with nature and self) I saw Aditya and Madhav coming together with a pack of fruits to distribute in their dormitory. Aditya was forthcoming and articulative, Madhav was speaking after fathoming from deep inside silently and clearly. They were to appear for the 10^th board exam scheduled from 28^th February 2011. There were reminiscing about past 5 - 6 years spent in School. We learn with teachers as not our authority but also learning together with us. Some of our questions, even teachers cant answer there itself, we find out answers together. If we are studying pin of a box (showing the example of a box comprising of fruits put in front of us), then we not only study the pins but the entire box. Our focus is not on mugging up what we study but learning the basics and deriving from there - that is how we are encouraged to learn. They are confident, approachable, listened me patiently, comfortable with their being, adding on to each other- supporting each other, well-brought out kids who are much matured of their age. When they arrived they thought it would not be as interesting journey as it happened. They would try to go to another KFI schools for 11^th and 12^th. Aditya would like to do his engineering from IIT – he came out as confident of appearing for JEE because he like science and he has experiences of conducing science practical in innovative ways. Madhav wants to pursue commerce after 10^th because he find stock exchange, share dealings attractive. However he said he is not fully clear what he wants to become. They referred life several times when they spoke! At times, they find lectures by J. Krishnamurti boring. It is not necessary that since he is the founder of our school, we should listen to his speech and follow him up. I saw them being naughty with their dorm teacher, asking him silly questions and he replying them in child-like manner. When I was sitting in common room, one said that when exams were introduced in 9^th, I was told by my parents that if you don’t study well, you would be brought back from Sahyadri School. It was too much than to be studying for exams!

I saw one of an interesting theatre workshop which revolved around trust. It was participatory. After initial discussions, trust evolved as a value - children formed subgroups and enacted how they would show trust by mime. It was interesting how creatively these children came up with showing trust. I was reminded of a faculty who said that at times we underestimate how capable children are..

I felt as if it is an ideal part of world from the rest of the cosmos – where things are happening as perfect as they could be. The most impressive was meeting children – compared to mainstream students they are much more matured, and in sync with themselves. Whatever I had read about Krishnamurti’s writing, even with a brief interaction, I could see that in reality with 3 children I met.

The school is what it is because of the brilliant and committed teachers it has. If quality education has to be imparted to masses then there is no alternative to competent staff working at the grassroot - a principle same as that of Pradan. But the question is how many such competent teachers/development practitioners do we have at country's disposal!? How to extend the best of the practices to the common mass is the biggest mystery yet unsolved..

Gouri, Amrita and..

I am fascinated by lives of Gouri Deshpande and Amrita Pritam. As like every man’s fantasy to be a 'husband' of an interesting woman, I would rather want to be Teruo of Gouri’s and Imroz of Amrita’s. A solace outside their established, standardised set of principles generally termed as marriage. Ever since I’ve come to know them, I am amazed to realise the clarity of thought they achieved and guts it entailed to follow in what they believed.

If I idolise these relationships and still want to be little practical in not going against tide, then what conclusions can I draw out of their lives. One is that being just a friend always works with whom you share your life, on other side taking up the roles of husband or wife over the individual self does not work:( One can take this as an extreme selfishness, but what Gouri or Amrita wanted at the end of the day - was to express themselves completely- which is so difficult otherwise.

I also try to look from Teruo’s or Imroz’s point of view. How he must have felt to be able to be with such strong women. Who gave and who received among them and what? I know it’s a typical question coming out of my patriarchal mind-set, where man is supposed to be strong and his woman is expected to carry his tantrums above all. How a man must be feeling to be at receiving end!! :)

I consider myself as one among ‘mango people’, trapped in some questions of life, constantly moving up and down, getting happy and unhappy with successes and failures. Unlike these ladies.. They questioned each and every norm put by society. I can’t imagine the amount of energy they must have had, so as to undergo opposition against all. I count their spiritual clarity is as much as that of Sri Sri Ravishankar or Dalai Lama. They are of equal magnitude but on opposite sides. Dalai Lama has enough chances to get a Nobel Peace but not to Gouri-Amrita, as it is not awarded to someone who established peace within oneself (and also to us by allowing us to go through their lives, how much we could learn and earn out of it), but to those who showered peace on 'others'. I would like to start a foundation giving awards to such men-women, anybody with funds to build in corpus?

How have they helped me building as a person. Reading them at first, made me go my head upside down. I found everything written, controversial?? Some of the questions rose against present societal order; especially between man-woman relationships were not as contemporarily practiced. I thought they are very selfish, what matters to them is their own needs. They are unnecessarily questioning the social fabric, which being right, running successfully all over! Had I not come across experiences in and around my own life, it was quiet impossible to relate with what is being written by them. One fine day, when you brush with the reality, things falling separately under you come together, and that collage convince you the necessary existence of Gouri-Amrita! When realised, it helped me to be non-judgmental towards looking at incidences, people. And also to question every norm, before I follow it or reject it.

Earlier, I had always afraid of divorce and to the worst out-of-marriage relationship!! How could one fall back out of marriage, it’s such an auspicious institution(!). But today I believe, like any other break-offs between parents-sons, girlfriend-boyfriends, two friends, why can’t it happen between husband and wife. Out-of-marriage relationship could have a friend outside ‘marriage’. I can accept that today, yeah it’s possible because it’s so natural! I know if I re-write this piece over period of times, my views would have further changed, hopefully more evolved than before!

Most of our energies have so far gone to curb what could be just natural, decent and so much important.

Beautiful World of the Backbenchers

Here I am posting one interesting article by Manu Joseph. The title itself says it all. Excuse me sir, for not taking your permission, but I hope you won’t mind for a colleague of yours…at the backbench.

Beautiful World of the Backbenchers
Times of India 13 Apr 2008, Manu Joseph
The most foolish description of youth is that it is rebellious. The young do wear T-shirts that say Rebel or Che or Bitch. But the truth is that the youth, especially in this country, is a fellowship of cowards. It lives in fear. Fear of life, fear of an illusory future. The perpetual trauma of the forward castes is inextricably woven into this fear. And what Arjun Singh's successful reservation campaign has denied them is the right to a secured but ordinary life, a life that comes with scoring 98 percent in the board exams, a life that goes like this: Engineer-MBA-anonymous. You can argue that this route is better than sociology-salesman-anonymous. But that will be to focus unduly on the ordinary among the cowards. The real tragedy concerns the extraordinary cowards. Great writers, painters, musicians and athletes who are lost forever to what are moronically called, 'the professional courses'. Instead of pursuing their talents they are, right now, in dark gloomy tutorials preparing for entrance exams, fatally infected by objective type questions. The angle between tangents drawn from the point (1,4) to the parabola y^2=4x is? The angst of the types who score over 95 percent also fills me, and several lakhs like me, with wicked joy. I was the 75 percent type. It was not pleasurable to be so in Madras of the eighties. I grew up in Kodambakkam where Telugu film directors, who wore white shoes, kept their beautiful mistresses; and Anglo Indian girls in skirts, who did not have hair on their legs, and all of whom I now remember only as Maria, walked to Fatima Church. But a large part of my formative years were spent in a Brahmin housing society called Rajaram Colony where fathers were all clerks and mothers were housewives. Rare working women had the same aura as divorcees. I was special because I was a Christian, and the transitory relatives of my neighbours, when they learnt my religion, would speak to me in English.
Many of my friends were periodically thrashed with belts by their fathers when the miasmic green report cards came home. Once, I heard the cries of a boy who had scored just ninety percent in a maths monthly test. Another form of punishment was heating a stainless steel serving spoon and inflicting minor burns. It was called, 'soodu'. My parents never hit me for my marks though my report cards were inspiring. My mother beat me up occasionally for political reasons – every time her mother-in-law came visiting. Apparently, according to a rustic Malayalee way of life, thrashing the kids was a hint to the in-law that it was time to leave. Those days, the legends of Rajaram Colony were our seniors who had entered the IITs, or as a consequence, had gone to America to study further. Their names were taken with reverence. When they visited home, they left a trail of whispers. And when they deigned to play cricket with us, we observed closely how they bowled and how they batted. Because they knew everything. It was already decided in every household, except mine, that the boys will go to IIT, a certainty just like their sisters will do BSc Nutrition. And so my friends began their furtive preparation when they were not yet thirteen. They began to score higher and higher at school. And they began to look at me as an unfortunate freak, not only because they thought they were brighter but also because I said I wanted to become a journalist. They scored better than me in English too. (Once in an English test, when asked the opposite gender of ram, almost every one in my class, astonishingly, knew the answer was ewe. I wrote, 'Sita'). I did always claim a higher creative status and often entertained the backbenchers, who were chiefly sons of illiterate parents, by calling my Brahmins friends, "curd-rice muggers". In the school I had slowly gained a reputation as a poet and some sort of a stand-up comedian. But as I approached the 12th standard, I was not the hero anymore of the juniors. That honour drifted to a brilliant boy, the first ranker who once used to play the tabla and did not touch the instrument anymore because he was preparing for IIT's Joint Entrance Exam. (A few years later, I would meet him on the campus of IIT Chennai. He would tell me that he will not go to America. "Because, you see, with transcendental meditation, you can sit here in Madras and visit any country in the world". He was serious. Now, he is a banker in San Francisco).
Meanwhile, in the Rajaram Colony, I observed that older Brahmin boys who had, somehow, fared poorly in the 12th standard and had to suffer the humiliation of pursuing BSc walked in the perpetual mist of guilt and embarrassment. They took to smoking and drinking, and 'sighting' – the disreputable art of looking at girls. They stared at a future in Eureka Forbes. I eventually moved out of the Colony to another such fiendish place but kept in touch with my childhood friends. The distance between us, however, grew. They did not really want to see me. I was a distraction in their preparation "for life". There was nothing they could talk to me about, nothing they could share, like their latest JEE sample test scores or the traits of the teachers at Brilliant Tutorials. On my part, I began to find them unhappy and bleak. Once, they were fresh and eager. Like me, they wanted to play cricket forIndia. Some were interested in music, some even attempted novels. Now, they were zombies in the trance of a whole material world that was just one entrance exam away. Eventually, almost all of them scored in the high nineties in the 12th standard exams. One made it to the IIT. The others prepared to go to second rung engineering colleges in humid melancholic towns. But they still thought they were more victorious than me because I had got 75%, a misfortune that their parents could not believe would visit someone who had two hands and one head. Worse, I told them that I was going to do a BA in English Literature. At that time, people did not think you were gay because you wanted to do literature. But they still did not understand why a male would do such a thing. They asked me if I was alright, if I could reconsider, if some maternal ornaments could be sold for the good cause of capitation fee. Some days, I think of those boys from another time. They are mostly bankers in America now and, I imagine, partly responsible for the subprime crisis. They are in the glow of the life that they had so dearly sought. But somehow I feel that their sisters, who eventually pursued what they wanted to, have more interesting lives. Also, occasionally I hear that some IITian or the other is returning to the art that he had originally loved. And is making up for the time he has lost because he could crack the toughest questions in the world but could not answer in time the class teacher's annual question, "What do you want to become in life?"

Thakur Sir

It was a Sunday morning. We; my parents, my sister and me all were in deep sleep after returning from the Ganesh festival at our native place Murud Janjira, the house bell rang. My father saw it and came rushing to me saying “Thakur Sir!!” I bounced up like a spring not knowing what to do now?? All of us woke up from there and rushed inside the room, got freshen up and came infront of Sir. Instead of scolding me of missing Sunday Coaching of Seventh Scholarship class, Sir scolded my parents, saying if the parents can’t control their sleep then it is foolish of me to expect it from their 12 year child. This incidence is imprinted not only on my mind but even my parents can’t let it go. That’s Thakur Sir.

APJ Abdul Kalam, former President said in Ignited Mind, to have one primary teacher makes a deep impact on one’s life. I was extremely lucky to have one in the form of Thakur Sir. I have learnt a lot from him, without him actually preaching all that.

Discipline: Sir is the first disciplined fellow came to my life. I was and am still much unorganized, not to-the-core-punctual, doing many things simultaneously, absent-minded etc. But at every point Sir is completely opposite to me. Initially I used to be late in the class especially when I had to come early. Somewhere at time I learned that best way to be on time for a chap like me is to reach early! If you have missed homework, then you will be punished not by bitting but by non-cooperation, putting you aside. There is hardly anything disheartening than this if you have slightest of self-worth in you. It worked with me many times. It took me later on many years to actually value the importance of discipline almost 15 years, but I know what it is and how it could build or kill you. The knowledge acquired that time, was useful for me to develop my mathematical abilities. I could get through State Talent Search, National Talent Search –interview just by the basics gotten through at early times.

Self-lessness: They say they don’t make people like this anymore. I mean, everybody wants money, who does not? Nowadays private coaching classes are the highest earning revenue models. But Sir took a free of charge seventh scholarship classes of us. As the anecdote goes, give by right hand such that even the left hand remains unknown about it. He never flaunted it even by mistake. There used to be a screening test for one to get through the class. You could be asked table from 2 to 30. I was very petrified to have been appearing for the test. I had butterflies in my stomach. And unexpectedly I got through!! That was the first time, a sense of superiority brushed through me. That was the only time of my school life, when I enjoyed learning, rest all was made for marks, sheer mugging. I wonder he never expected a single penny from any of us!! At the end of the class, mind you, it was the first tragic separation from someone to whom I secretly admired deeply. We went on to gift him a pen set worth Rs 50 or so at the last class. Sir humbly refused to take it. Since we emotionally appealed him, after contemplating for almost an hour in front of all, he kept it. I could not forget that moment, Sir with his folded hand, banian, half pant, spectacle….looking at the ground deeply…with a sense of extreme spirituality. Accepting a pen set worth Rs 50 from about ten of us for a yearly coaching, could not have been a tribute to what we went through. Today I would have gone ahead with just a tight hug and nothing else. But at 12 years, you can’t help but do that. At the day of exam, like a coach, he had brought curd-rice for all of us and without asking how it was, he was feeding it to us, and bucking us up for the next delivery. How selfless one could be. He has always remained an ideal for me for how much you can trouble yourself for others and at the end of the day what you have is immense satisfaction, irrespective of how much of it is repaid back to you.

Love: Sir is as affectionate as much disciplined. Sir knew I like a guava among all the fruits. He has always kept a guava from his own garden especially for me because all others used to eat everything given to them but I was choosy. Till today I get those guavas at my home. At the hindsight, I feel a child need a disciplined affection for growth and one lame is without another. Even after 7th standard, he was integral part of all my decisions; going to Ruparel College after 10th, opting Chemical engineering at UDCT after 12th, joining Pradan after Lubrizol. He was there everywhere. Looking at my health at 12th, he was cautious if I could tolerate the chemical fumes/gases/products that were seen in my college. He even consulted some of the doctors, took opinions of my seniors and once when I reacted to this what is long-life worth if it’s lived against one wishes, he laughed a lot and said you know what you are doing, go ahead. After two year in industry when I decided to join NGO, he first showed a great concern, later on when got convinced; he literally announced to the whole city that my son is “mad” enough to take a different path. Little he knows that he is implicitly a big impression for me to do it.

Sir has always been accompanied by his mother-in-law, whom we always called Ajji. Ajji is a Sanskrit and Marathi scholar. Ajji taught us marathi, which is one of the subjects for scholarship exam. She is blessed with strong memory, I had always astonished as she used to hum her childhood poems. Her pronunciation of marathi words is exemplary, as if that’s how we should speak the languages, as sweet as sugar! She is a wonderful cook, I have had pleasure various time to eat fish and modak-ladoo made by her. Actually modak-ladoo is Lord Ganesha’s favourite food and they are prepared in Ganesh festival. But whenever ‘this ganesha’ kept on going to meet them even otherwise the festival, modak-ladoo were prepared especially for me. I have admired her clarity in whatever she did.

I wish him on teacher’s day. From my first ever salary, I brought him a pair of shirt and pant piece. Yet I am so full of him.. How can I pay tribute to Thakur Sir..