Teacher beating students

 ପିଲାଙ୍କୁ ପାଠ ନଆସିବାରୁ ନିର୍ଘାତ ମାରିଲେ । ଶିକ୍ଷକଙ୍କ ମାଡ଼ରେ ୧୪ ଜଣ ଆହତ ହୋଇଛନ୍ତି । ଆହତ ପିଲାଙ୍କ ମଧ୍ୟରେ ୫ଜଣ ଗୁରୁତର ଥିବାରୁ ତାଙ୍କୁ ଡାକ୍ତରଖାନାରେ ଭର୍ତ୍ତି କରାଯାଇଛି । ଏମିତି ଘଟଣା ଘଟଛି ବାସୁଦେବପୁର ବ୍ଲକ ସୁନାମୁହିଁ ସରକାରୀ ଉଚ୍ଚ ପ୍ରାଥମିକ ବିଦ୍ୟାଳୟରେ ।

The above news from Odisha, my home state back home rang a bell. Roughly translated from Odia - "14 students were injured in an Upper Primary (Elementary) school in Odisha, badly beaten by their teacher as they couldn't answer his questions. 5 of them were serious enough to get admitted to a hospital".

During my growing up days in Odisha it was quite common for our teachers to beat their students, some of them mercilessly. My memory goes back to the year 1978 when I was in class V in Ramakrishna Mission Upper Primary School, similar to the one mentioned above where this ghastly incident took place.

It was the fateful day when the results of the Science subject of our Half Yearly examination came out. I was fortunate to get the highest mark in our class in that subject, but not fortunate enough to escape thrashing by our Science teacher. In spite of scoring the highest marks I still got few whips of canes on my palm from the fastidious teacher. It hurt like hell and both my palms turned red, but I didn't suffer any bruises. The pain lasted for couple of days. My mistake, I made a few mistakes on the paper. 

I might have escaped with few thrashes on my palm, but others didn't. Our teacher lashed them on their hands and backs with his thin cane which had a sizzling effect when it hits the skin. He carried on with his caning with closed lips, yelling intermittently MURKHA PILA PITHI DEKHA (You illiterate kid, show me your back), alternating his caning between the backs and sides of the hapless students. The kids as young as 9-10 years old had no other option but silently bear the brunt of the thrashing with eyes closed, some crying BAPALO MAALO MARIGALI (dad, mom, I'm dead).

A couple of them wetted their pants. Now came the turn of this big, burly guy and a champion athlete from our class, but little slow in studies. We were in awe of him and his physique, because he used to frequently bully us. Now we saw how vulnerable he was when he walked towards the teacher, shaking out of fear akin to a coconut branch during a strong gale.

When his turn came stream of urine started flowing on his left thigh as he fainted in anticipation of things to come. The school Peon came running with water which was sprinkled on his face till he came to his senses. Still he got some ear twitching, but thanks to his fainting he saved himself from any further cane lashes. We were scared to death watching the fracas. This incident was humiliating enough for the big boy to stop bullying us further as the aura and myth surrounding him was shattered. He was teased as MUTURA (peeing boy).

Ironically it happened in Rama Krushna Mission School, based on the name of Sri Ramakrushna Paramhansa, better known as the Guru of his famous disciple Swami Bibekananda. Sri Ramakrushna preached love, non-violence and compassion for all living beings. But cattles would have been treated better compared to the way our Science teacher dealt with his primary school students that day. He strongly believed that thrashing makes the kids more obedient and keeps them better focused on studies. How silly !

I am sure many from my generation and above would have been through this ordeal. Sadly there was no cell phone, Internet, social or 24x7 media then to record them and make viral videos. This kind of treatment which makes news now was like walk in a park those days. When I narrated my ordeal to my parents they just brushed it off as just another day in school. Those were the days, those were the times. Now similar actions by teachers can get them into serious trouble.

The celebrity love triangle in Odisha

 For those who aren't aware, in Odisha media, social or otherwise is currently covering a triangular love story between Babusan (Pati) - his wife Trupti Satpathy (Patni) - and another girl named Prakruti Mishra (Woh).

Who are they ? Babusan is the son of ex-Superstar of Odia movies Uttam Mohanty and his actress wife Aparajita. The spoiled brat of a celebrity couple, he is also an actor in Odia movie industry. An alcoholic and prolific consumer of drugs, Babusan is married to Trupti Mishra and the couple have a child.

Of late Babusan has been living with a girl named Prakruti Mishra, an anchor in a local TV channel and an actress. A week ago his wife along with reporters following her, dragged Prakruti Mishra out of her car and blamed the actress for her husband's infidelity. It is always the other woman's fault, as if Babusan is Doodh Ke Dhoole (lily white), blameless.

Interestingly both Uttam Mohanty and Aparajita are siding with their daugher-in-law Trupti. Meanwhile Babusan and Prakruti Mishra, both have escaped to Madras and the media has followed them to the southern city. Prakruti Mishra's mother has added another dimension to the drama by vehemently backing her daughter in public glare and lodging a case against Trupti at local police station.

This is a perfect spicy recipe with full histrionics for the public in Odisha to consume and media to improve its ratings. Now whole Odisha is talking about it.

Acharye Thile Boli

 There was this short story in our Class VIII Odia SAHITYA (literature) textbook titled "ACHARYE THILE BOLI" (Because Mr. Acharya was there), written by an eminent Odia writer Sri Raj Kishore Ray who was narrating a true incident. Not sure if kids of the present generation back home have read this story.

Short story short, the writer is traveling on a train in Odisha when a beggar walks into his compartment. Many of his co-passengers rudely refuse to pay him until Sri Acharya Harihar, an Oriya freedom fighter, social reformer, educationist and statesman arrives on the scene. He obliges the beggar with few coins. Those who refused to pay moments earlier, now suddenly developed compassion towards the beggar and opened up their wallets quite generously. But the writer who was silently watching all this did not pay anything but was paying attention to the behavior of the rest.

Acharye asked Sri Ray why he did not pay the beggar like the rest. The writer replied, "ACHARYE THILE BOLI" - Because Mr. Acharya was there. A great story with plenty of connotation and imagery. Whoever we are, we live in a veneer of hypocrisy and tend to portray a public image conducive to our milieu, separate from our own self. Here Acharya's presence provided such an environment, bringing out sudden benevolence in the conduct of folks surrounding him, however temporary it may be. The author of the story Mr. Rajkishore Ray was unperturbed and preferred to stay by himself.

Now living in the United States for more than quarter of a century, I have seen inside Indian grocery stores like Patel Brothers our own DESI brothers and sisters (Desi is a slang used to denote Indians in America) trample trolleys over each other,  jump the line (queue) at the earliest opportunity, flood the floor with vegetables and plastic bags. In Indian restaurants you can see them jump the buffet line, spill things around with impunity. Yet the same folks care not to do the same in a Wal Mart or Kroger, in a McDonald's or Chillis.

We Desis are just two different people - one inside the Patel Brothers and other inside the Publix. I have seen many amongst us, in exclusive Indian gatherings doing all kinds of loitering, including throwing food on the floor, quite aware of the fact that SAMBAR and Butter Chicken Masala gravy can create havoc on the carpet. Occasionally they can be seen throwing crumbled balls made out toilet paper roll strewn all around the restrooms (toilets).

Yet I have observed that in many gatherings our Desi brothers and sisters are unbelievably disciplined and suave in the presence of Americans. A baffled friend of mine once pointed out the same on one such occasion where the local folks were present in an overwhelming majority and asked me how could be our Desi siblings so disciplined ! My impromptu response to him with a smirk - "AMERICANS THILE BOLI (because Americans were there).

Snakes are so fascinating

 Since my childhood snake as a species has always fascinated me. The other day I was watching Gabon Viper, a highly venomous reptile found in the forests of West-Central Africa. Unlike other vipers its fangs are 1-2 inches long. The snake with a snouty, triangular head was was lying still, camouflaged under a bed of fallen leaves in an African tropical forest.

Snakes have poor eye sight but possess a strong sense of movement. A big rat who passed by the Gabon Viper had no clue what's going to hit. In fraction on a second the viper nailed it's fangs on the hapless rat. Then it waited patiently for a few minutes for its vicious hemotoxin to take its effect on the hapless pray which shook violently gasping for breath until it lay still.

The fangs of venomous snakes are like hypodermic needle. They inject venom straight into the bloodstream. They say the snake venom if swallowed could be flushed out by our digestive system without causing much harm. But they can turn fatal if injected. Certain kind of venoms from snake bites are mild enough to get over after a good night's sleep. Yet some can kill you within few minutes. The venom of King Cobra, world's largest venomous snakes is powerful enough to kill 20 adult humans or a full grown elephant.

The likes of Cobra, the feared Black Mamba of Africa (usually gray or green in color, but called black Mamba due to its black mouth), Inland Taipan of Australia etc possess diffent variants of neurotoxins. But Vipers like Russell's Viper (Boda in Odia), Rattlesnake, Cotton mouth found in Georgia inject hemotoxin. Both neurotoxin and hemotoxin are equally malignant. The neuroxin usually kills sooner, hemotoxin can result in a long, painful death taking days in some cases. Basically it is making a choice between death from hanging or firing squad. Both neurotoxin and hemotoxin are equally deadly with one final outcome of death.

Unlike many myth associated with snakes they are shy in nature and prefer to stay away from humans. They only attack their pray for food or strike when they get defensive feeling cornered. They are very much part of the nature and need to be left harmless to preserve nature's balance by keeping various pests and rhodents away.

Imperfection is perfect

 Home alone, finally I cooked myself a dish last week, looking for a perfect outcome. Didn't have all the necessary ingredients for the receipe, so thought my cooking won't be up to mark. Surprisingly it turned out to be better than when I cooked it last time with all the necessary ingredients on my kitchen table. The dish with imperfect ingredients turned out to be better than what I cooked earlier with perfect set of components.

No wonder little bit of shortcoming can turnout to be better than perfection. Never tell cent percentage, pure and unadulterated truth to anyone. Tell it slant. Straight trees are the ones cut first. That's why a straight shooter always lands in trouble. We all are aware that Oxygen is absolutely necessary for life. But pure Oxygen is harmful to body, it needs to be diluted by mixing it with Nitrogen to form breathable air. No wonder 22 carat rather than 24 carat pure gold is used in ornament making.

Similarly there is nothing called pure, platonic love between a man and a woman. There is always some degree ofunderlying physical attraction and expectations in love. Being always goody goody and pampering to a kid can backfire big time. A day may come the kid will sit on your head (as we say in Odia MUNDARE BASIBA), ie, he or she will take you for a ride. Being a little bit square in addition to being fair is considered part of good parenting. A price of a product displayed as 9.99 somehow sounds better than a perfect 10, hence many commodities are priced accordingly.

Even the purified water we drink isn't 100% pure water. It is treated with chorine, enriched with minerals and floride to make it better. A small pimple on the cheek of a pretty face may look better than a totally spotless one. Actress Madhuri Dixit looks so pretty with that solitary pimple on her cheek.. A sky with a fleece of few scattered white clouds looks better than a completely cloudless sky. Even a perfectly shining moon has a KALANK (dent) on it and the moon still looks pretty.

Examples galore. I have learnt never to aspire for purity and perfection. Often a little bit of imperfection brings out the essence of joy in life. That's why I never judge someone striving for perfection, because it can be chimera.

RIP Somnath Mishra

Our Ex-Principal of NIT (previously REC) Professor Somnath Mishra passed away at the age of 87. He was the principal for 22 long years, from 1974 when he joined at the young age of 36 until he retired. He ran the College as his personal fiefdom. Inaccessible to the students, he had created layers of hurdles and one had to get permission from 101 people to get an appointment, wait for time immemorial in order to reach him. His hand picked Superintendents and Wardens in the hostels harassed and rusticated students at drop of a hat for flimsiests of reason. Corruption and nepotism ran amok in the college during his long stint as principal. He corrupted the institution and institutionalized corruption in the institution.

As the Principal of a premier institute he succintly nurtured a hiatus between him and the staff and students. He treated the students as his subjects. A man from Puri, Odisha and educated in the state of Massachusetts, US he spoke in accented Odia and English in American accent to raise his ante. We Odias tend to respect folks who sound different from us by speaking in Hindi or English.

For more than two decades the MIT educated Professor ruled the College campus with a firm grip. He created an aura around him by staying aloof from most of his staff and students, speaking in an American accent which is cultivated during his stint in US - "My Dhear Renkholians (Rengocolians), we are now outta thyme (time)". A native of Puri who studied in Odisha till his graduation once went on to pronounce a last (Sur) name "Choudhury" as Cowdrey.

These qualities endeared him to the obsequious minded staff belonging to a state with a strong feudal past. If he ever spoke fluent Odia, mingled with his colleagues and became more accessible to them, I bet he wont have survived 22 year long. He blocked promotions of many academics, harassed staff and students who refused to fall in line.

Our Princial outsourced the handling the internal affairs of the College campus to a Professor, a self proclaimed DADA (Boss) who was acted more like a local goon than an academician. Both kept a tab on the students and opponents amongst staffs, throttling their ambitions if they perceived them as threats. Our ex-Princy behaved like the royalty of the princely state of REC College campus. Both were smart enough to figure out that in a feudal state autocracy trumps democracy as rod works better than logic and persuasion. 

Majority of the staff inside the campus were timid folks who loved to be ruled and were suckers of patronage. The principal threw some crumbs in the form of positions Superintendent, Wardens etc to enable the staff to supplement their income. Those savants responded magnificently by wagging their tails and behaving as vassals in front of the Principal who behaved no less than the Campus Crown. 

Had he mingled with them with impunity, he could not have lasted long. Like our current Chief Minister our ex Principal was initially underestimated, but used his secret potion for success to perfection. It was his art of longevity. Behind the veneer of their outward simplicity lies a ruthless personality to cling on to their post at any cost. 

No wonder he ruled the REC campus as his fiefdom with iron fist until he retired. The eminent writer Khushwant Singh famously said a man doesn't necessarily become better after his death. May he RIP. Om Shanti.

Suicide of a student in BJB College

 It was really sad to find the other day about a girl from BJB College in Bhubaneswar committing suicide. Her suicide note had squared blamed three senior girls for ragging her which led her to take this drastic step. It was deja vu for me as it took me down the memory lane as I am quite familiar to ragging as well as to BJB College which was my Alma Mater for a short period of time.

Suicides are happening quite frequently in educational institutes these days. It is on rise amongst the youngsters. The surging hormone in their bodies can go wild, creating havoc in their hearts and minds, which can be due to myriad reasons like failures in career, romance, academics or bullying by others as it seems in this case.

Every person has the right to live. It hurts utmost when someone commits suicide. And it hurts more, if that person happens to be young. At tender age, their mind is raw, immature and susceptible to mood swings. Like every person in their age, they too have a dream, but unwisely decide to procrastinate their dreams by killing themselves. 

When does a person decide to end his or her life ? It is not just because of the frustrations they undergo with their life, it's more due to their lack of care or concern for rest of the world, which includes their near and dear ones as well. If I feel suicidal for some reason, I may resist that thought for a moment, if I think of my family, even if I don't care about me. Apparently those who chose to end their lives prematurely don't care about their loved one and take the decision at the spur of the moment, never ever getting a second chance to regret their decision. No wonder our Hindu tradition regards committing suicide a "Paapa" (vice), a cowardly act.

I studies in BJB College for only couple of years but have a long list of memories associated with. My father taught in that college for at least a dozen years and we were quartered at nearby BJB Flats. As a kid I used to attend the College Annual functions. I enjoyed the drama shows and the drama associated with College Union elections - the histrionics on the day of "Why I stand" meetings, the scented pushing cards reserved for the pretty girls with plain ones destined for the lesser mortals. hopeful Dramatic Secretaries to swing their hips in a more dramatic ways. Once a candidate tore off his pants on stage while dancing to a Jeetendra - Sridevi number exposing his DORA, a popular underwear of that time. 
He continued to dance until the muffled laughter from girls in the audience with their face covered in palm gave away to cat calls from the boys.

Fondly remember eating "Chaat" standing next to a trolley owned and operated by a man named Sanatana who ran brisk business with girls being his most loyal customers. For years we siblings would go around the College Puja Pandals on the days of Saraswati and Ganesh Puja, cherishing the syrupy Prasad (offering to God). It was fun to attend Department feasts (a locally used term for soiree of food and fun) and the picnic cookouts in winter. Those were the days I look back with nostalgia.

Now coming to ragging, I along with my classmates were ragged pretty bad by our seniors during the first year of Engineering in REC (now NIT). Those days physical ragging was rampant in Engineering Colleges. I was slapped no less than two dozen times by seniors, once a slap hitting my nose and blood started oozing out of it. I was furious and wanted to report to the authorities. But sanity prevailed and I refrained from going to hostel superintendent at nick of time following advice of my friends.

I am not a very brave person, but never had any suicidal thoughts at any point of my life, after being ragged or otherwise. I do not condone ragging, but if you are a victim it ain't worth ending your life for it. If it gets into your nerves better complain to the authorities and let law take its own course. Living a life is far more important than ending it. 

Cooking is real pain

 I vividly remember reading this story in one of the editions of the Odia magazine "JANHAMAMU"(Chandamama) in the year 1979, a popular magazine of that time for all ages and now defunct. The story goes as follows.

During a Steet Show a man observes a trapeze artist effortlessly jumping over a tall wall using just a bamboo pole. Impressed by the skill shown by the boy, after the show the man approaches him and offers a fortune to jump over the wall of a rich person in the neighborhood and steal something important from that rich man's house.

The artist said - "No, I can't do that". "Is the money offered not enough for you ? You won't make that much money in a month from your street performances" - said the man who was surprised by the unexpected rebuttal. Politely replied the artist - "Sir, I know the kind of money your are offering is humongous. But my father has to beat the drum, my brother needs to cheer me on top of his voice, an audience needs to be there to clap for me. Then only I will be able to jump over the wall". The frustrated man had to abandon his mission.

Right now my wife and son are in India. Not new to cooking, but lazy like a Fox I am hardly motivated to cook these days. I am used to cooking exotic dishes in presence of my family, when my wife would cut the vegetables, gather the ingredients for me and my son would intrude intermittently - "Dad, is the chicken 🐔 ready yet ?". That's enough to motivate me in the kitchen. Now with them not around me, I barely enter my kitchen, procrastinating any intention to cook.

I have now come to realize that cooking is a big pain in the butt when you are home alone. Can relate this feeling to all working men and women who are expected to cook a sumptuous meal post a hectic day at work. After a normal workday I find myself exhausted and least motivated to cook even a single item.

No wonder it is always easy to grasp a problem when you step into the other person's shoes. Then only you feel the pinch. Hats off to all working folks, especially the women who still have energy to cook after a long day at work.