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Are Schools Really Seats of Learning?


 

Article first published as Are Schools Really Seats of Learning? on Blogcritics.

 

Schools are seats of learning. They should inculcate values and establish reason while imparting education. The personality, as a whole, should undergo a development.

The child in school has to blossom into a beautiful individual endowed with refinement and sharpened wit. Academic excellence alone should not be the prime criterion, as it can be anybody’s achievement once you rely on learning by rote, revisiting the subjects often, and taking innumerable tests and examinations. Top grades have become the targets of modern schools, which try to churn out products in quantity tagged with high scores, very much akin to industries producing goods.

Industry aims at profit and looks out for competition. If the industrial houses slacken their productivity their existence in this highly competitive world becomes a question mark. They have to service loans borrowed from financial institutions, pay wages to their workers, buy raw materials, maintain quality, pay power charges, and spend on research and building infrastructure to survive in the marketplace. As their demands are high, they concentrate on production.

Schools do not have such compulsions. Production should not be their aim. Quality should come first. The teacher should teach the child in depth, not look into the grades. The pupil should understand the subject before he or she is tested on it. The child should enjoy learning, which leads to a love of the subject. It is the teacher who makes a lesson interesting or boring. A monotonous lecture confined to the subject renders it extremely uninteresting. An hour of lecture should contain a pep talk, a discussion relevant to the subject, then take up the core lesson followed by a short question and answer period.

The last period of every school day should be allotted to games, moral science, library, hand work, debating, and quizzing. The students’ work should be displayed in the classroom ando remain there for the term. Parents should be invited to see their child’s performance. This would develop bonding, a grip over the child, and a rapport with the teachers.

How many schools do these things? The child right from kindergarten is subject to tests. Examinations bring in fear. The small child undergoes a tedium that robs him of his childhood fancy and imagination. He becomes a live gadget and assumes a mechanical style of living. He gets up in the morning, rushes to school, listens to the teachers, comes back home, does homework, and prepares for tests. His eyes automatically close, leaving him a hapless child devoid of freedom and enjoyment.

The parental pressure on the child is enormous. They impose their aspirations on him. They want him to become an engineer or a medical professional so that he can turn out to be an income generating machine. The child has no choice. He has to obey his parents. The child has to study irrespective of his wishes, and graduates as an engineer or doctor. Thus begins his ordeal of making money. He does so and builds wealth. He has sacrificed his interests and love. He has lost his childhood happiness which will never come back at any price.

Nowadays schools are run as businesses. Education has become expensive. It is an economic novelty bound by no principles. It is a great money spinner. Many with little education establish schools, as they yield enormous revenue. The world has found a technique based not on science or commerce, but on the fundamentals of desire and greed.

Schools  are apparently great enchanters attracting the public with their intrigue and seducing them by their fanciful advertisements and misleading pro formas.

 

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India Versus Norway: Diplomatic Embroil Over Bringing up Children


India Versus Norway: Diplomatic Embroil Over Bringing up Children on Blogcritics.

 

“The Child is father of the Man,” reads the famous line from William Wordsworth. Begetting a child gives unfathomable pleasure. Bringing up the little one is an art. The making and unmaking of a child depends largely on the mother.feeding

Parenting is a task which requires great skill and foresight. Indians form a close-knit community. Every relation has an importance in the Indian family. The Indian mother, after a child is born, lives with the child all day long. The newborn is nurtured with great care, fed as and when it cries, sleeps nestling close to the mother. The children are put in separate rooms once they become self-sufficient and independent. The bonding between the child and the mother is special, enchanting and enhancing too. The proximity developed between the mother and the child lasts all through their life. Indians presume it as a healthy sign but in the West it is eyed differently.

Norway is in the headlines for separating the children of an Indian geoscientist from their parents since May 2011. Anurup and Sagarika Bhattacharya’s children, three-year old Abigyan and one-year-old Aishwarya, were taken under Norwegian protective care by the Norwegian Welfare services on the ground that the son slept with Churchillhis father and the mother fed the children with her fingers.

This allegation brings to mind an anecdote from a few decades back, when the former Indian President Dr. Radhakrishnan and the British Prime Minister Churchill met over dinner. As per the Indian custom, the President washed his hands well before eating. While Churchill was busy with spoon and fork, Dr.Radhakrishnan was eating with his fingers. Churchill asked the President to use the spoon and fork for better hygiene. The great scholar quipped, “No one else could use my fingers so I consider it most hygienic.” What would have happened to Dr. Radhakrishnan if he had visited Norway now? He would have been put in a centre and alienated from his kith and kin. Dr. Radahakrishnan is dead and gone. He has escaped the Norwegian authorities.

 

Norway’s Child Protective Service is a powerful organization which has been charged with being overzealous in protecting the children. The Norwegian Statistical Bureau, in its latest report of 2011, shows that 19 of every 1,000 children born to immigrant parents were taken away from their family homes between 2004 and 2010.

In a report by IBN-CNN, Mr. Bhattacharya says, “We’ve appealed to the government that we’ll leave everything and go back to India. This is a nightmare in our lives. We want to bring back our kids. We were normal parents. There could be several upbringing issues because the culture is different.”

The Indian Government has taken up the issue and forced the Norwegian government to release the children from Protective Care. Their 27-year-old uncle would take custody of the children and the expenses for his trip to Oslo would be borne by the Indian government.

Each country has its own culture. Each country has its own theory and convictions regarding sex, children, marriage, habits, and behaviour. That which is approved in one part of the world may be strongly condemned in another region. Customs and traditions which seem offensive to one sect are appreciated highly by the other.

Shakespeare said that discretion is the better part of valor. Let us practise this ideal by honouring all cultures and values.

Read more: http://blogcritics.org/culture/article/india-versus-norway-diplomatic-entanglement-over/page-2/#ixzz1uH3breMR

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An Unruffled Mind.


Let it be a tremor.

Let it be a storm.

Let it be a hurricane.

Let it be a revolution.

Let it be an up rise.

Let it be a battle.

Let it be a murder.

Let it be a gory accident.

Let it be an untimely death.

Let it be a disappointment.

Let it be an embitterment.

Let it be unpleasant.

Let it be ghastly.

Let it be  terrible.

Let it be happiness.

Let it be exhilaration.

Let it be a pleasant weather.

Let it be fun.

Let it be entertainment.

If the  mind remains unruffled.

 Then the mind rests in peace.

It revels in joy.



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Where Eagles Dare- Langkawi



A group of islands lie facing the Andaman Seas

Once upon a time they were busy like bees.

A curse confounded them to a secluded freeze.

On and off they were invaded by the Siamese.

The island was torn into pieces in a fleece.

 

Mahasuri  was a beautiful girl of the land.

Looked exotic and exuberant amidst the local band.

Captured the heart of the Sultan of Kedah by her alluring brand.

Her looks kindled the jealousy of the Sultan’s wife’s in terrific grand.

Mahasuri fell to the sword   emitting white blood on to the sand.

 

She was not adulteress as claimed by the Sultanate.

She was an innocent wife of an official in the  Sultanate.

She was deliberately murdered  out of hate.

Her cries reverberate in  the forests even this late.

Her story is enacted in her tomb everyday with a rate.

Releasing a significant fear and tears within the gate.

 

As the legend narrates a tragedy in full volume.

The ninety-nine islands rise up to the eagle’s boom.

The white sea-shore glistens in the sunny doom.

The mangrove forests throw a greenish bloom.

The lush waterfalls fall down in  a spectacular zoom

 

The pregnant lake flows with a temporary hush.

Silently blessing the childless woman with a fertility blush.

Kuah ,the main island ,is a symbol of flush.

The white, brown, black, yellow, tourists move in a rush.

Intending to take with them nature’s bounty in  an articulate fuss.

 

Langkawi  translates nature’s beauty  in a lively form.

It is the jewel of  Kedah   with a delicate charm.

It presents a rejuvenating citadel in a lukewarm.

Its extensive seashore zigzags without a conform.

Well,it is an experience beyond an explainable norm 

 




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Bearing The Cross


Bearing the cross is Lina’s destiny.

The causes for the happening might be many.

The fault might emanate from so many.

The significant indicator pointed to Lina if not to any.

 

There was an uproar over a mishap.

Lina went there by chance in the crucial lap.

She stood mutely watching the crap.

Quick as a wink she fell into the trap.

 

The main opposition vanished in a second.

The other party was delirious for more than a second.

 Their eyes caught hold of Lina in a fraction of a second.

Accusations overflowed in a spate  within a second.

 

Lina did not understand a thing about it.

Yet she had to face the brunt without knowing it.

She did stand the vehemence with a brave outfit.

She said “I am no way responsible for it”

 

This might be something not of importance.

Lina is not the only catching up with the reference

Lina represents the many who are punished for other’s offence.

The likes of Lina  have to bear the cross in defense.

 

 

 

 

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Burns to the Earth.


There was a fire burning red.

 

Lit up to burn the rubbish.

 

It flagged and waved with the wind.

 

It then turned into  grey fumes.

 

It suffocated the inhabitation.

 

The  smoke emanated  foggy white flakes.

 

It polluted the environment.

 

It then subsided into black cinders. 

 

The ash got spread in the brown terrain.

 

It lay for ages fresh and undecomposed.

 

An array of colours  produced a devastation.

 

An unbearable heat caused a parchment.

 

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Step Up Lina.


Lina, for all I know, had a setback that day.

It kept Lina locked for a day.

She sat speechless the whole day.

She was not her usual self that day.

 

Lina,all I know, is invincible.

She had overcome events terrible.

She faces disasters with spirit credible.

But that day she was inconsolable.

 

Lina, for all I know, is of a stern stuff.

She never in exasperation huff or puff.

She is not a snobbish vain  buff.

But, that day she was terse and gruff.

 

Lina ,for all I know, is a girl of pride.

She carries  herself with a charismatic glide.

She speaks in an unleashing stride.

But that day she was in a low tide..

 

Lina, for all I know, is a lovely angel.

She is a dainty, kind angel.

She is a sweet-tempered angel.

But, that day she was looking like a fallen angel.

 

Lina, for all I know, is a private person.

She behaved  with an idealistic  reason.

She is a flower of all seasons.

But, that day, she was  in enormous tension.

 

Lina, I know not your turmoil.

Could you not create a foil?

Could you not put an end to this toil?

Lina would come out of it without a soil.

 

 

 

 

 

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The Kite’s Flight- Allegory


It was a high-flying kite.

It glimmered in the sun-bright.

Carrying the colours red, blue and white,

It rose up and up to great heights.

 

The children cried in delight.

They were thrilled at the sight.

The kite  enacted a great fight.

It rose up and up to great heights.

 

The cord that held it extended right.

It, in its elongation, got tight.

The kite faltered in its flight.

Yet, it rose up an up to great heights.

 

The cord knotted itself in a bite.

The knots closed up to a strangling plight.

The kite made a descent slight.

Alas! it fell down and down from great heights.

Man’s ascent has a tremendous insight.

He muscles and manipulates to reach atop alright.

His movement  gets mulled at a point outright.

He tumbles down  to the ground  like the falling kite.

 

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The Dance of Little Meenu.


Little Meenu was singing all by herself.

She was dancing all by herself.

She was the  star performer that day

She was the best dancer all the way.

 

Meenu was  singing at the top of her voice.

Her imagination extended beyond  her toys.

Nursery rhymes were her best choice.

She set them to her own tune with rejoice.



Round and round she went in  steps slow.

She  danced merrily to the melodious flow.

It was both western and oriental in one blow.

Her singing and dancing made her glow.

 

Her first line was “row,row,your boat”.

It was followed by “are you sleeping ” in a float.

She went back to “row, row, your boat”

She then sang   “Baa,Baa Black sheep” as an end note.

 

Meenu covered the  big  stage with ease.

Her movements were  soft as a snowy fleece.

Her melody was like a  soft breeze.

Her recital was an impressive feast.

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Walks Of Life


Bisect the angle cried the Mathematician.

Dissect the frog called the Biologist.

Inject the vial  screamed the  Surgeon.

Infuse the chord ranted the electrician.

Lock in the water shouted the plumber.

Launder the money murmured the tycoon.

Hold me up  beseeched  the Minister.

Hush up dictated the tyrant.

Vote for me pleaded the politician.

Vouch for me demanded the businessman.

Align me with things good concluded the innocent.

Allow me to live  happily implored the commoner.