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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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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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Lady of The Mentally Robbed.


She looked brave and fearless.

Her status was great and righteous.

She volunteered to handle the tactless.

She did with all the more diligence nevertheless.

 

Taking care of the deranged was troublesome.

She accomplished it with a grace wholesome.

She never complained about her duty cumbersome

Rather she had to toil for nothing awesome.

 

Willingness  drove her to undertake the work.

Initially  her lack of experience landed her in dark.

The inmates greeted her with a loud bark.

She got accustomed like  a graceful  lark.

 

As years rolled she became familiar with her job.

She was a genuine aid not a snob.

She created among the deranged a meaningful throb.

No wonder, she was hailed as the “lady of the mentally robbed”

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So on and So forth


Anxiety mounts up.

Tension creeps up.

Fear rises up.

Pressure scales up.

The results are coming up.

It is not the presidential election.

It is neither the award presentation.

Do not look at me that way.

Do not call me silly.

I await, I see through the gateway.

It is the promotion of my child always.

From Kindergarten to grade 1.

From grade 1 to grade 2.

So on and so forth.

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The Loving Grand Pa


Early in the morning there was a sound.

It was not the cock a doodle do.

It was not the clock’s ding-dong.

It was not the baby’s shrill cry.

It was not the bird’s sweet call.

It was not the mother’s shout.

It was not the father’s retort.

It was not the boy’s grumbling.

It was not the paper boy’s cycle bell.

It was not the milkman’s  loud alarm.

It was not the whistling tea-pot.

It was not the hissing shower.

It was, it was, a snore.

Emanating from grand pa.