The Odisha school textbook fiasco

There is a lot of brouhaha going on in Odisha about ridiculous and trivial errors in Odia text books in the vernacular medium schools. After looking at few of them, some outrightly funny I didn't know whether I would laugh or cry ! Regardless, nothing could be more atrociously disgusting than this.

Mass Education is a sine qua non of a healthy society. A child's education is very important to the growth of his or her mind and shaping the child's future. And the teachers and school curriculum form the salient part of it. A few errata here and there are acceptable. But there are 1600 errors already identified. What's not acceptable is teaching Isaac Newton was a pilot who flew Airplanes, a popular Bollywood song "Nimbuda Nimbuda.." presented as a Rajasthani song in Odia script in Class V English textbook. Niyamgiri Hills of Odisha was shown as part of Jharkhand in Geography book. Wheat was written as paddy, temperature as pressure and equinox as equator, not to mention enormous number of typos. Errors are way too many and to mention them all is beyond scope of this blog.

The response of the state government so far is tardy and miserable. As expected it is in denial mode with the Chief Minister of the state blaming it on conspiracy by his rivals to give him and his government a bad name. The opposition parties have rallied around to embarrass the ruling party. The blame game continues.

Now coming from a family of teachers this fiasco not only annoys me, it hurts me a lot. I am sure a lot of those who are reading this blog are on the same page with me. The fault not just lies with the books, its with the entire system which is both inept and corrupt. The quality of teaching has gone down as teachers are paid in peanuts and teaching is no longer a respected profession.

Decades ago there was this incident, when a sub-collector in Sonepur district of Odisha did this shameful, cowardly act of kicking a hapless school teacher, abusing him as a poor MASTRA (the way the word master is often pronounced in Odia, a term mostly used in derogatory sense for teachers back home). I remember a cartoon related to the above incident which came out on the local vernacular Newspaper with  following caption, (rhyming with our famous Sloka "GURU BRAHMA GURU BISHNU... "

GURU DEENA GURU HEENA
GURU SAMANYA MASTARA;
KANDOOKA SAMAN GURU
TASME SRHEE GOITHA MARA
ITI UPA- COLLECTOR
JILLA NAMA SONAPUR.

Transliterating in the same rhyme form to keep the theme intact,

"Teacher is poor, Teacher is mere;
Teacher is just an ordinary Master.
Teacher is akin to a football;
To be kicked for sure.
Courtesy Sub-Collector,
From the district of Sonepur."

I have heard parents asking in Odia to their children "KIRE MASTRA AJI KANA PADHEILA" meaning "Hey, what did the master teach you today". The English transliteration may not sound so bad but the way it is delivered in the native language is not a sign of great adulation. It shows the respect the guardians of the students give to their teachers.

My simple take - A society which does not respect its teachers can never prosper. Period. Great nations are made by great men. Great men (and women) are shaped by their teachers. Hope a public apology is issued, these errors are rectified and appropriate legal actions taken against the culprits. The sooner it is done, the better it is.

Death of Chhabirani's husband

 The death of Naba Kishore, a journalist in 1980s might ring a bell to many. He was the husband of Chhabirani, a woman whose untimely shook the state of Odisha. My first memory of that heinous crime goes back to 1980 when as a 11 year old, I was hardly old enough to comprehend the depth it yet old enough to recognize its evilness and impertinence to any civil society.

The incident was the rape and murder of Chhabirani, the wife of journalist Naba Kishore who went above and beyond his job to expose the nexus of a cabal of crooks of petty politicians, local officials and small time businessmen in coastal Odisha's Jagatsinghpur, then part of the undivided Cuttack district. It was an unusual bold step for a journo from a state where his fraternity's ethics can be judged by the paens of praise they can heap on you for a bottle of liquor. (Khushwant Singh once wrote that Indian journalists are suckers for freebies and champion consumers of alcohol as long as someone else paid for it. Usual disclaimers apply).

The tragedy happened when the family was trying to escape their village. The journalist accompanied by his pregnant wife and child were chased by criminals trying to flee his village in the middle of night. The moon was pale in the dimly lit sky as they tried to cross the BILUAKHAI river, one of several distributary rivers criss crossing the vast Mahanadi delta in coastal Odisha. 

Here is where the details get sketchy. Some say the pregnant wife along with her little kid could not cope with his faster walking husband and fell behind getting separated for ever. Another version - the man had to attend his nature's call and took time to relieve himself near the sandy bed and wash himself clean with the river water doing his ablusion as village living folks do. He lost some valuable time only to come back and regret later - for his wife was nowhere to be seen, her raped, dismembered body only to be discovered a few days later. We probably don't know which one of these versions is true.

But what we know, the men on chase took their turns to rape Chhabirani to death along with her yet to be born child. Her semi buried body from the sands of river was recovered later in a decomposed state. But this incident survived the sands of time to become a folklore of the area for a long time to come. It was the age sans social media in Odisha when internet and cell phones were strictly fantasy. TV was non existent in the state of Odisha. "SAMAJA", the only widely circulated vernacular newspaper of the time with some reach to the interior parts of Odisha carried the news. The brutality of the crime against a pregnant woman raped and killed in cold blood caught the imagination of the common man of Odisha - at least in its thickly populated coastal belt. A local JATRA (Folk Troupe) made a lot of money reenacting this episode with a play named RAPE and MURDER made out of this ghastly incident.

Laxman Mallick, the contemporary MP of Jagatsinghpur from the Congress party was accused of shielding the perpetrators of this inexcusable act. It is said he was made a scapegoat, the fall guy as the entire chain of the higher ups, including the contemporary Chief Minister J.B.Patnaik, an erudite but corrupt and controversial guy allegedly tried their best to protect their political turf by containing the fall out of the crime.

Time flew. Years later, I read the news of the bereaved journalist Naba Kishore getting remarried, becoming a father again and leading a low profile life. Today I read the news of his passing away. In all these years was justice ever delivered to Chhabirani then and those who commited the crime got punished ? Your guess is as good as mine. 

Civic sense and sensibility

 Recently there has been lots of news about lack of civic sense shown by Indians living or visiting abroad. On foreign lands from dancing on train tracks, airport termacs to soiling bathrooms and bathrooms in hotels, using swimming pools as community baths wearing "Gamcha" & rubbing soap on body to be videographed, talking loudly in hotel lobbies, making reels at historic places like Great Wall of China, shoplifting and so on.

In Texas, America our Desi (a term used in USA for Persons of Indian origin, often in a deregatory way) siblings dance beating drums on roads inside the suburban communities celebrating Hindu festivals and drying "Papads" on their driveways, raising eyebrows. Not long ago many LUNGI (Indian loincloth which can be removed quickly for multipurpose acts) wearing bros showered a portrait of their favorite movie actor with milk followed by wild dancing lifting and swinging their Lungis for wide eyed onlookers clicking pictures and videos of theie action. The list is long and endless.

This behavior of us Desis hasn't gone unnoticed by the countries at the receiving end, followed by swift reactions. There has been reports of restaurants in Vietnam putting up boards proclaiming "Indians not allowed". In Switzerland a hotel displayed a note not to wash utensils in the bathroom tubs after discovering marvelous, curry smelling grease residue on white marble. Most of the Wheel chairs used to board Aircrafts are cornered by Indians who are accused of grossly misusing this facility. I have overheard an Airline staff pushing the wheelchairs passing disparaging remarks against Indians.

Are majority of Indians or person of Indian origin involved in these ? Certainly not. Only a handful of them do so, enough to spoil the name of the entire community. Why are we doing this ? Old habits die hard. A Keonjhar mining mafia in Odisha who not so long ago started from an humble beginning suddenly got rich taking advantage of the iron ore mining boom in the district. Though he built multiple mansions equipped with state of the art bathrooms, he still prefers to shit in open fields. Even on rainy days he ventures out in open to take a huge dump under "MUKTA AKASHA" (open sky) and gets immense pleasure by taking a look at the size of his dump. The bigger the size of the dump, more satisfaction he gets to return home happy.

I am now reminded of the popular Odia proverb, 

BATA RE HAGILE NA PADE
DEULA TOLILE NA PADE .

Roughly transliterated..
If you shit by roadside you get fame,
if you build a temple you also get fame."

While most persons of Indian origin depict the "building temple" part, a few of us Desis are exactly busy doing the road side act, occasionally literally. If you put a spoon of wine to a barrel of shit, it is shit. If you put a spoon of shit to a barrel of wine, it is still shit. Unfortunately the image of an entire community gets tarnished due to the act of a few.

We need to a bit careful about displayed our lack of civic sense abroad. Every country isn't lenient to such behaviors and can come down heavily on the recalcitrant folks. Countries like Singapore are formidable and can teach you an unforgettable lesson. For example the government of the successful city-state didn't bother a bit to consider US President Bill Clinton's appeal in 1990s to be lenient to an American citizen who did an act of vandalism on Singapore's soil. They will care a hoot about an Indian tourist. Similarly our next reel taking in China or Russia could land us in a Gulag and our spare parts may never be found.

In the last couple of decades many of us  have earned money and grown stinking rich. But our mannerism, civic sense hasn't been able to cope up with our nouveau riche status. This, coupled with sections of the diaspora having a negative perceptions through arrogance, prejudice, and an inflated belief that India has become a global superpower whose citizens deserve special treatment everywhere doesn't help. To add fuel to fire, in the age of social media and reels, such acts of lack of civic sense gets amplified. And it is the silent law abiding Indian diaspora abroad who is paying a price for such obnoxity ! Hopefully it changes for better in future.7

Raja festival of Odisha 2026

The month of June is regarded as the beginning of the summer season in USA, whereas in Odisha, my home state back home in India it marks the beginning of the end of the blistering, hot summer season. RAJA SANKRANTI is a popular festival during this time of the year - especially in the long, culturally and historically rich coastal Odisha welcoming the monsoon rains which brings down the scorching heat prevalent for months.

The festival invariably comes in mid June per the Gregorian calendar and marks the beginning of the summer crop plantation, especially rice. Raja festival isn't native to Western Odisha and frugally celebrated there. It is also considered as the harbinger of the cooler rainy season, as the South West monsoon rolls over the state from the North East, lashing it with silvery stripes of rain. The nimbus cloud bearing dark sky gets alive with the spectacle of flashes of white lightning as if zillions of flashlights are switched simultaneously in the sky, a la the zigzag lights on a circus stage or a JATRA (dance troupe) show popular in Odisha. During daytime the rain is often followed by the sky getting rewarded in the form of a rainbow of garland. These long awaited rains bring much needed relief from the long streak of heat and prickly humidity, healing the parched earth dried from a long, extended Indian summer.

As the silvery monsoon rains ornament the thick humid air, the perfume of PODA PITHA (baked rice cake) pervades the environment. Young and old alike play on DOLI (swings), with men snarling their blackened teeth and girls exposing red pouty lips - post effect from chewing PAAN (betel leaves filled with colored condiments and scented tobacco for those habitual with the stuff). The drenched earth, now softened by the fresh summer rains on parched earth accompanied by wafting petrichor scent, gets ready for tilling, marking the beginning of the KHARIP crop farming season when water supply gets plenty due to monsoon rains. 

I still cherish the memories of my trips to our ancestral village near Puri during my childhood days for a fun filled lunch of GHEE (clarified butter) laced NADIA KHECHUDI (coconut sprinkes sweet rice), thick sweet DAAL (Lentil soup), an array of Curries and fries, washed down with KHIRI (sweetened skimmed milk). It would invariably be followed by an afternoon session on the RAJA DOLI (swing). Dinner would be PITHA (Rice cakes) and more varieties of PITHA - the icing on the cake would be occasional PODA PITHA made from ripened TAALA, fruit from tall palm trees, as a fitting finale to a day of RAJA MAUJA (fun).

I remember the tall palm tree standing taller than the surrounding Coconut trees behind our house in our village, right behind our home facing a green pond perennially covered with a cessful of watercress in its dark, stenchful barely visible water where locals wash their utensil as well as their buttocks post defecation. During the early monsoon close to the 3 day long Raja festival these large brownish-black color fruits from the palm tree, looking like coconut sized plums with a yellowish orange pulp ripen and fall off from the tree. Many roll into the green swamp. Those who survive make their way to make PODA PITHA of different flavor. I was sad to hear that particular palm tree ruptured from its middle as it couldn't withstand the devastating force from Cyclone Fani a few years back, closing a chapter of the history of my ancestry. 

A few summers ago in Odisha, on the morning of RAJA Festival I switched on the TV. A promotional song LEMBU, ATI CHUPUDILE PITA (Excessively squeezed lemon tastes bitter) from an Odia movie scheduled for the RAJA release (same as prominent Bollywood movies go for a Diwali or Eid Release) was playing on screen as an Odia actress danced to the tune of a song from that movie. It was symbolic of Raja being commercialized, now  celebrated in big hotels in bigger cities as the action has shifted from the villages to the cities.

This was followed by an interview of the actress. It didn't go unnoticed to me that a discussion about an Odia movie, between an Odia anchor and a leading Odia actress getting released on a leading Odia festival, was taking place with a typical accented Odia with almost an equitable spread of 50% Odia, 30% English and 20% Hindi. Speaking in pure Odia is a sign of being a GAUNLIA (from village origin) these days, whereas talking accented Odia sounds so cool. A lot of billboards and commercials on local newspapers take pride in pronouncing RAJO instead of RAJA. 

A person usually speaks with an accent when speaking a language other than his or her mother tongue. Odisha is perhaps the only place on earth, where some (certainly not all) natives, especially from the new generation not only love to speak their own mother tongue with an accent, also chose to write it in another accent, e.g, RAJA as RAJO, MANSA as MANSHO bear testimony of it. Wish you a Happy RAJA (certainly not RAJO) from the bottom of my heart. Have a feel and fill of RAJA MAUJA.

My tryst with AC going poof

There is a saying in Odia - MANISHA SABU THARU BADA SUBIDHA BAADI PRANI (Humans are creatures of comfort). No wonder I was vindicated in last 24 hours.

I normally set my home temperature at 78°F (25°C) in summer. Yesterday afternoon no sooner I entered my home, than I felt a burst of warmth, not the usual cool comfort of humming sound of the Air Conditioning on a  summer day. I instantly suspected that something was wrong with my AC. Soon my worst fear came true. The thermostat read 84°F (27°C). It was tell tale sign of the Air Conditioning going poof.

It wasn't until the next day afternoon the AC mechanic arrived. Fixed my Air Conditioning Unit cost me a cool $278. As the unit started pumping out pleasantly cool air wafting across my house, it was literally a breath of fresh air for us. The humming of the AC circulating fresh air sounded like music to my ears. The sight of the slow climb down of the thermostat from 84°F to 78°F felt so comforting.

The outside temperature was 92 degrees (33°C), nothing compared to the Indian summer heat of 40°C (104°F) I was accustomed to, much higher with the heat index if you take the sweltering humidity into consideration. During this time of the year we go through the phase of ANASARA GULUGULI (muggy) days in Odisha. The almost static air, pregnant with water vapor and barely moving a leaf on trees becomes unbearable. One feels like a melting man with hardly any relief in sight. We all took solace from a free Sauna bath.

Without access to Air Conditioning we can adjust to the environment, vindicating Darwin's theory of the survivor of the fittest. Humans being intelligent animals readily adjust to the situations and cicumstances. That's why we survived whereas the dinosaurs, mammoths and mammoth number of animals part of the fauna couldn't.

Yet we didn't complain and suffered the heat of the summer and humidity into our stride those days when Air Conditioning, now ubiquitous, was strictly a luxury item - a fantasy for the Indian middle class. But nowadays just 90 degree Fahrenheit heat with lot lesser humidity makes me feel like a fish out of water. 24 hours without AC felt like eons. Man is definitely without any doubt a creature of comfort and I am certainly not an aberration. Just 24 hours without AC in summer vindicated this fact.

During World War II at the time of relentless Nazi Bombing the British Royal Air Force fought bravely against the air blitzkrieg of Germany's Luftwaffe. Winston Churchill, then British war time Prime Minister said this about the Royal Air force - "Never in the History of mankind so many were dependent on so few", a tribute to the contribution of the handful of pilots who stubbornly defended the entire English population from the Nazi onslaught. Same can be attributed to AC - "Never in the history of Mankind, so many humans were dependent on a mechanical unit". When in the summer month of July, 1902, a 25-year-old engineer from New York named Willis Carrier invented the first modern air-conditioning, little he knew his invention would be indispensable a century later.

How two rainstorms shaped history

How two rainstorms decided the fate of British Empire by defining the outcome of two major wars and the future of two British colonies on both sides of the world.

The Englishmen were lucky from the outset of the Battle of Plassey fought in a mango orchard of Bengal. It was the month of June and a heavy pre-monsoon downpour wetted the gunpowder of the Army of local Nawab Siraj-ud-Daula who was preparing to take the British Army head on. His generals were foolish not keep the gunpowder dry from the pouring rain. In contrast, Robert Clive, the master strategist leading the much smaller British army had the foresight to cover his gunpowder stock with rain proof tarpaulin.

No sooner the rain cleared and the war started, than English cannons came blazing in full force. The Nawab's army already weakened by treachery of Mir Jaffer and his soggy gunpowder failing to ignite, the helpless cannons were witness to a crushing defeat of the Nawab's army. This victory was a major step towards the establishment of the British empire in India. The year was 1757.

Exactly 20 years later in 1777 on other side of the globe, the same British were engaged in a fight to the finish with the American army led by the legendary George Washington near a city to be later named after him close to river Potomac. Washington was a bit nervous due to the size and sophistication of the professional, experienced and battle tested well trained British Army and the French help on its way was days away.

Just before the battle began, the wind started gathering speed. The sky started turning into gray, suddenly becoming dark with lightning as powerful Nor'ester approched which is very typical of North Eastern America during summer. The Armies from both sides failed to see the gathering storm and were rattled, but it was the British standing on a lower ground were at the worst receiving end. Their powerful but heavy artillery and cannon got buried, stuck in slush mud. The horses and men were scattered helter skelter. Damage caused by the weather was devastating enough to stop the war not for hours but for several days before the French troops arrived from the North to bolster the American troops. Boisterous with the new enforcement, the Americans led by an able General in George Washington managed to defeat Lord Cornwallis's British Army in a bitterly fought yet divisive war which led to the foundation of the United States of America.

A frustrated, dejected Lord Cornwallis under whose wings the British faced a rare defeat at that time, later went to India to establish the British empire there, its crown colony by defeating Mysore's Tipu Sultan few years later. This is how two rainstorms in 12 years shaped history of the world separated by 12 time zones.

Happy birthday Binod Kanungo

 Today is the birthday of another of Odisha's forgotten heroes. His name is Binod Kanungo, the man who wrote GYANA MANDALA or Encyclopedia in Odia.

Born this day in the year 1912, Mr. Binod Kanungo wasn't highly educated, nor he earned any fancy degree. But he was a brilliant student and a voracious reader. Like many famous creative persons he was a school dropout, though he left pursuing formal education for a different reason. Inspired by JATIYA KABI (National Poet) Bira Kishore he decided to drop out of school on 10th of April, 1930 to join in full fledge the Freedom movement against British.

After being released from the jail, in post independent India he had the option of plunging into the more lucrative profession of politics. But spreading knowledge was his motto, so he settled down in Cuttack which was the cultural epicenter, a happening place Odisha at that time, the state's capital and a counterpart of our present day Bhubaneswar. To give him company was his frugal possession of a 1 Rupee note (bill), a cotton shirt, a MASINA (plain mattress) and his most prized material - An array of books.

He never pursued formal education, nor thrived for a degree which could have landed him a decent job those days. A la the famous dropouts Bill Gates, Steve Jobs or Mark Zuckerberg, he went above and beyond doing a job. He wanted to do something more contributory and beneficial to the society.

So he started writing GYANA MANDALA or an Encyclopedia in January, 1954 - a first of its kind in Odia and in Odisha. It took him six long years to collect, compile and present all the necessary information in an age when forget Internet and Google, electricity was strictly fantasy and out of reach for a rural centric Odisha. On December 2, 1960 his baby - PRATHAMA SANSKALANA or the first edition the first ever Odia encyclopedia was born.

Winner of the Odia Sahitya (literature) Academy awards and Civilian Award Padmashree, he carved his niche before passing away in June, 1990 - the same month he was born at the age of 78. May Odisha produce more pioneers like him. Happy 114th to the creator of the first Encyclopedia in Odisha.