The Dance of Life...

Years ago, when I was in school, I was often asked by elders in the family about what I wanted to become after growing up. I remember that my answer always unhesitatingly was ‘astronomer’, much to their surprise. Then, on one occasion, when there was a family function at a temple in some congested street of Bangalore, my cousin’s husband, who had a ‘good career’ going as an engineer, told me in no uncertain terms that astronomy wouldn’t do as a career. At best, he said, I could get into some unknown college or university and remain a lecturer all my life! The ‘lecturership’ didn’t sound perturbing at all, as did his admonishing tone. Little did I realize then the harsh realities of the world, and of growing up in it -- the constant pressure to perform, be ‘molded’ as the adults around us wished, and take up careers ‘approved’ in society. Little did my cousin’s husband realize the joys of peering through the telescope and asking – how big is the universe? Where did it come from? Was it always there? Is there life elsewhere…? He perhaps thought that all of this would be best done after retirement!
Twenty years hence, I’ve missed my astronomy bus, and, working in the social development sector, I still ask these questions. My cousin’s husband has retired, and is now looking to marry off his daughters to ‘US-based’ grooms. My guess is that he still hasn’t peered through a telescope.Some questions though, remain. To begin with, thanks to my exposure in the field of education, I constantly ask – what should the purpose of education be? Gandhi had said, ‘By education I mean an all round drawing out of the best in child and man – body, mind and spirit.’ That does sound vague and distant doesn’t it, if one goes by what one sees today in the name of education?
Let me not get stuck with definitions at this stage, and instead move on to a more complex issue – the relationships between the development of our potential as human beings, our upbringing, the education system, the work we do in our lives, and our ability to be happy. What are the mechanisms available for each of us to realize our innate potential through work that pays, and makes us happy? One of the organization’s that I worked for has a laudable vision of ‘…a world in which children realize their full potential…in societies that respect people’s rights and dignities…’ I do believe, however, that we haven’t reflected what this vision means as regards action. What does ‘development of full potential’ mean? When do we know if someone has developed his/her full potential? What are the links with schools and education, for instance?
In my own case, these links are not straightforward. I graduated as a mechanical engineer, worked in the corporate sector, then became a schoolteacher with the Valley School, Bangalore (as part of the J. Krishnamurti Foundation, India), then entered the social development arena with ‘Samuha’, an NGO in Northern Karnataka, became a ‘consultant’ with the Govt. of India for a large primary education program, then ‘advised’ three funding agencies regarding their investments in education. I’m now a freelancer and a wanderlust, journeying in education, and through life. That’s longwinded, isn’t it? I may get back to teaching next. I’m not sure if my potential is being fully used, but I do feel strongly that this is one of the things I would like to be doing. The mechanisms in society were not enabling, and one had to work one’s way around. Then there were those who tirelessly pointed out that I had ‘got it all wrong, that I was an escapist…’, but this didn’t deter me from carrying on.
We may find some answers in the field of economics. The economy, it is said, is the ‘happening’ thing that defines peoples’ lives – how we live, what we wear, what we think and so on...Perhaps it may enlighten us if we understand it better. Large amounts of money, including those in mega scams, exchange hands; large volumes of goods move from one part of the world to the other…all these activities are supposed to bring more comforts, make more people happy, generate jobs, and ‘uplift’ people. Or so we believe.The ‘state of the economy’ is often talked about, and I wonder what that means. This is a funny way of capturing the quality of people’s lives through some numbers. As an aside, what puzzles me, however, is that we have business leaders and politicians patting each other’s backs for ‘low inflation’ and India as a ‘knowledge superpower’, while millions sleep hungry every night…
Economy or not, I see many persons unemployed around me. The connections are indeed intriguing, if they are examined further. Our education system creates round pegs that have to fit in square holes – there are graduates and postgraduates who ride motorcycles and deliver Mc Donald’s pizzas at your door step; mad caps like me; business executives who earn six figure salaries every month and still cannot be happy. And don’t forget the hundreds that Osama Bin Laden, George Bush and the RSS/VHP have managed to inspire… It takes, as they say, all kinds of persons to make this world, to produce all kinds of goods and services. You give something (your understanding, skills…), and take something back…I’m not sure if that maximizes our potential, keeps us and others around us happy, and pays reasonably. A quick look around at a world in which there are gross inequalities, violence, large-scale environmental degradation…leaves you with a feeling that something is terribly wrong, somewhere. I’m sure all of this is connected with the questions I have raised earlier about the ‘relationships between the development of our potential as human beings, our upbringing, the education system, the work we do in our lives, and our ability to be happy...’ As an afterthought, I also wonder if the business of happiness is connected to these things, or, as they say, ‘is in the mind.’ You decide.
Shesh (November 2003)
Updated: April 2008

A bus with a view

I

The little boy and his father finally got a chance to get on to a bus together one evening. It was one of those days when their car was at the service station. In fact, the boy and his father were going to fetch the car from the service station that evening.
For a long time, the father had told himself: “I must take the little fellow for bus rides in the city. It will be a different experience all together…” For a long time, the city bus ride remained just that – a thought that sometimes nagged and reminded. Partly because the boy’s father travelled so much on work (which left him with less time to spend with the family), and partly because the boy’s mother was not happy with the idea (that it was not safe for her young son to travel by the local bus), the practice of using buses by the family had dwindled. She could not understand why bus travel was on her husband’s mind, when he and her son could have travelled by the auto-rickshaw. When middle class families are upwardly mobile, and are on an acquiring and consuming spree, they would like to show that ‘they have arrived’. Bus travel then, among other frugal practices of living, is one of the casualties. It is even considered to be ‘below one’s status level.’
That evening, all of this changed for a few hours.
They would have to travel by at least two buses to reach the service station located at the other end of the city. The city itself had grown in size, and travelling to the other end took a much longer time than before. It was that much more difficult as well. The boy’s father has seen a smaller, greener city with less people, less noise, less vehicles and more lakes. The city was often called ‘The Air Conditioned City’. It was also called the ‘Pensioner’s Paradise’. You could retire here, and hope to lead a peaceful life.
The boy’s father had often noted, “Not only is this city expanding horizontally, it is growing vertically too!” The flat system was largely unknown in the early 80’s. Like a plague, it dominated the city’s landscape now. There were flats of all shapes and sizes – they came at all costs, catering to many tastes and fantasies. They were fancily named, too – the names suggested a longing for all things European. From a distance, the boy’s father had recently been shown an ‘ultra-modern’ flat adjacent to the city’s famous cricket stadium. He had learnt that it had a swimming pool on every floor! He had then thought, “So, this is what we mean by modernity, eh? The more modern you are, the more you consume. The more you flaunt. They drain all the water from the ground and pump it up for these people to live their lifestyles!” Not far away, people queued for water everyday and had to wait for hours.
The flat system also stimulated his imagination. He found the practice of ‘living on top of each other’ (as he called it) amusing, and did not like it much. He was used to living and growing up in houses that were independent, small or big. Many times he had worn his X-ray glasses, and looked at the first flat that came his way. Shorn of the arrogance of these structures and their names, he witnessed a variety of human experience, the eternal drama of everyday living – men, women and children going about their daily chores in their living rooms, bedrooms, kitchens, toilets; fornicating men and women, making guttural sounds; crying and playing children; bedridden old men and women; snatches, of conversations, arguments and fights; women being abused by their men; men being shouted at by their women; clothes on the clotheslines in the balcony; audacious looking dresses, both inner and outer; people meditating and praying.
All on top of each other, at right angles, in boxes of various shapes and sizes, people led their lives.
II
The little boy and his father excitedly got into the first bus that would take them part of the way, till the main city bus terminus in a place called ‘Majestic’. Not too many passengers were around, so the boy got a seat next to the window. This is what his father had wanted for him.
Just two minutes into the bus ride, the boy exclaimed, “I can see so much!” The bus was stuck in a traffic snarl and was slowly winding its way through some by-lanes of Malleshwaram, the crowded, bustling area in the Northern part of the city. A year ago, these lanes had not seen buses and much traffic. People who lived here had led quieter and less smoke filled lives then. Thanks to an explosion in vehicular population, the Pensioner’s Paradise struggled to keep up pace. Flyovers, ‘Fly-unders’, expressways, widening of roads…these had become a common sight. In an effort to provide a ‘Mass Rapid Transport System’, the city’s planners and politicians had embarked on the ambitious metro rail project. As a result, bus routes had changed, and regular commuters got to see parts of the city they had never seen before.
Trees were the first casualty, and tree lovers routinely held protests. Shop keepers too protested, when they were told that their shops would be demolished to make way for the metro. For the rest of the city dwellers, it was a saga of endless traffic jams and dust. Two ways became one ways, and one ways became two ways overnight.
“Look at that man -- he is changing his clothes!” The window seat afforded the little boy a peep into a bedroom off the narrow road.
“Why has the bus stopped?” the boy wondered. “Hey, look! They are playing a game on the laptop!” The man stretched to look out of the window and saw a car standing adjacent to the bus. Two boys in the backseat were oblivious to the din and smoke outside. Immediately, he was reminded of a bus ride he had had in Delhi some months ago on his way to Jaipur. Three boys were watching a blue movie in the backseat of an air conditioned car. He even remembered the scene in which the woman was on top. The car gradually drew away with its lustful spectacle inside. “Isn’t it strange?” The man wondered. Technology can do all kinds of things for us, yet in most cases we seem to be using it to sate our carnal instincts.” He had read somewhere that a significant amount of traffic on the internet was to access all kinds of porn material.
“So, are you enjoying the ride?” asked the father. “Yes, I can see so much! We can’t see all this when we drive in our car, right? I am sitting so high above the road.”
The bus moved ever so slowly and they passed a line of shops in a narrow road that had not seen so much traffic. The boy looked on intently, through the window. His father knew that he was absorbed in the new spectacle his bus seat offered him. Position changes perspective, right? A few minutes later, the boy dozed off.
III
They had to change buses at the central bus station in Majestic. The next bus ride was longer, as the distance covered was more. Since everyone had poured out of their offices, schools and colleges by then, there were traffic snarls everywhere. Nice word, this. In a traffic jam, everyone ends up snarling at everyone else.
In the second bus which they boarded at Majestic, some one sitting behind started talking with the little boy. ‘What’s your name? Which school do you go to?’ Then he was tickled! After a while, this interaction ceased. By then, they were passing by the city’s horse racing course. Thanks to a flyover constructed right next to the course, the boy was able to see the outline of the course, but not much was visible, as it had become dark. Throughout the ride, the boy’s father kept pointing out various landmarks in the city. The famous Town Hall, the Botanical Gardens…a discussion about these spaces followed.
A few minutes later, a woman in a black gown got into the box. Her face was covered as well. The boy asked, ‘Who is she and why is she wearing a dress like that?’ Asking a question like that was easy, but answering it was not! His father had to explain the background of that dress worn specifically by women in Muslim communities. It was called the ‘Burqa’ and the practice of wearing it to prevent men from seeing women, was called ‘Purdah’. ‘But why should she wear that, and why can’t men see her…?’ was the next question. The man wondered: ‘Is this what a bus ride can do to my son’s curiosity?’ He began to realize how much of the real world is blocked when one travels in a car.
Ultimately, everything depends upon one’s vantage point. Like the car, the bus is a bigger box which we inhabit for a limited time when we travel from one place to another. Unlike the car, the bus allows us to socialise and interact with other human beings. This changes our perspectives about others and about living, if we allow ourselves to learn. Economic mobility is fine, but it tends to isolate and segregate people from each other. Not only that – more importantly, it cuts you off from nature – we begin to live inside boxes. It makes you consume more, without regenerating nature.
The other point is this: one’s vantage point also helps to decide how much one wants to get out of life. Limitless living is possible when, through exploration, we keep shifting vantage points, each point offering us a broader yet in depth experience of life itself.
All these points were not lost on the boy’s father as they headed home after collecting their car.
April 2008
Bangalore

Frozen Turmoil

Frozen turmoil

I
Sometimes, your life puts you in situations where you find yourself torn apart -- there are some interactions that make you confront the reality of life’s extremes – this is when, pushed to a corner, you ask questions of a basic nature. This is what happened in my conversation with Rafiq a few hours ago. We will get to Rafiq finally, but not before I take you through this one night on platform one, of Gorakhpur’s railway station. In this waiting and watching, one gets to see many things that would normally be missed when we rush to board a train, and when we do not linger long enough on the platforms of railway stations. In this waiting, as I’m doing now, one gets to think of many things which otherwise lie buried in the depths of the sub conscious…we seldom allow them to surface.
II
It is eleven thirty and I’m now sitting on platform one of Gorakhpur’s crowded railway station waiting for my Gwalior Mail, scheduled to arrive at half past midnight, but already running two hours late. Another late night beckons me, but with these questions and confusions in my mind, and with Michael Oakeshott’s ‘Education – the engagement and the frustrations’ for company -- remember, I’m supposed to be doing what they call the Master of Arts in Elementary Education, or MAEE for short? After thirteen years of working for children’s education, trying to do all kinds of things, I chose to do this course, as I wanted to engage in some serious reading and writing. Who knows, the act of writing this article may also be part of this thinking, though what you will read here is not related to the course as such. I’m woefully off target in submitting course assignments on time, and may face the prospect of getting rusticated from the course!
I guess my night here will be pretty occupied with lofty thoughts on education, oblivious to the happenings on the platform.
At this late and humid hour, hundreds of men, women and children are sitting, sleeping, or talking with each other on platform one. Pillows, suitcases, gunny bags and the like are used as head rests. These men, women and children are mostly from the villages near Gorakhpur (or so I think), waiting like me to go on their various journeys. How many have a reserved ticket, I wonder…Where are they all going?
As I write this, a blind man walks dangerously close to the edge of the platform; another, having just woken up from his slumber, relieves himself at the edge of the platform. Two others follow suit.
III
An hour ago, I was on my way to Gorakhpur from Belahiya, in Nepal. Rafiq was the young driver, and we kept talking. I wanted to keep him awake, as I had learnt that he had driven all of last night, all the way to Ballia and back (a good 600 kilometers), and hadn’t slept a wink. Drivers who haven’t slept a wink scare me, like the one I had last time I traveled from Gorakhpur to Lucknow in June. Since train tickets were not available at short notice, I had to take the taxi up to Lucknow, and wait the night before boarding the morning Shatabdi Express to Delhi. The driver was a young, smart looking chap who hadn’t slept the previous night. As if this was not enough, he drove the entire night journey with his cell phone in his hand. He looked very disturbed, and kept making calls to his Gorakhpur girlfriend – he was upset that she had started talking to another man who, according to him, was a criminal, and who he resolved, in the course of our journey, to kill one day.
‘So, do you want to go around with him?’ He kept asking his girlfriend. In between, when he was not on the phone, he played loud music. Once, when I asked him to reduce the volume, he almost threatened me, ‘Lucknow jana hai ki nahi? Gana jor se sun ne ka shaukh hai mujhe…neend aa jayegi nahi to…Aap aagey baitho mere saath.’ I had to shut up, switch my seats and sit next to him. The songs he played nearly made me deaf.
Once, when I told him that he looked very disturbed, he gravely nodded, and looked lost. I could empathize with him, for, I have been there before. I continue to be there sometimes, for, the desire to possess and latch on to pleasurable moments, is difficult to overcome. Should it be overcome?
IV
At 1210 AM, I decide to get up and walk along the length of this more than one kilometer long platform of Gorakhpur. Besides wanting to find out the status of my train, I want to stretch my stiff limbs a little.
‘Your attention please…train number 1123, from Barauni via Sivan, to Gwalior via Kanpur, is reportedly running late by fours, and is expected to arrive on platform one at 0420 hours…the inconvenience caused is deeply regretted…krupya dhyaan de…’ Cold sounding, pre-recorded statement, condemning me to wait longer!
In my walking, I come to the end of platform one. There is an empty bench in a portion of the platform which is not very well lit. Next to it, on the ground, is a marvel of mobile creativity. A family of five – three children and their parents, lie fast asleep under a makeshift mosquito net, anchored by sticks from four corners, the sticks themselves anchored to four gunny bags which contain their belongings. Where are they from, and where are they going?
As I settle down for a long wait on this humid, mosquito infested platform, the Lucknow Barauni Express comes in. Most compartments are of the ‘unreserved’ variety, and in this crowded country, they are packed with humans at all conceivable angles. In some of these compartments, I see men and women sleeping at the door. Even the luggage van is not spared – today, it is filled with pilgrims, Shiva devotees, on their way to the Baijnath Dham in Deogarh district. The men are all attired in red shirts and dhotis. Suddenly, this quiet corner is filled with activity. Kids, who live on this platform, appear from nowhere, selling refilled water bottles for two rupees. That is how they make their living at this late hour. The chai wallahs are running around, so is the puri sabzi chap. The family of five sleeps peacefully. Many men relieve themselves on the edge of the platform. Suddenly, the place is filled with the stench of urine that rises from the railway tracks below and mixes above with the odor of chai.
V
Where are all these people from and where are they all going?
I see peaceful faces, and I see contorted faces. There are those who are sleeping with their mouths wide open and there are those whose eyes are not completely shut. They are all fast asleep. Then there are those who are staring blankly into space. They are all lying down in all sorts of positions. Will they wake up in time for their trains?
Where are all these people from and where are they all going? The Great Indian Mobile Adventure! Below poverty line (BPL), mobile…no, no, we are not talking about the company BPL that manufactures TVs and the like.
I am what they call a ‘freelancer’, as free as can be (or so I think). I travel the country, doing my ‘assignments’. Till a few months ago, I worked with an organization that did education for children in different parts of the country. I started off as an engineer, but pretty soon left my job of manufacturing tractors for farmers who could afford them. Then, by some quirk of fate, and aided by some thinking and visions of a ‘better’ life, I became a schoolteacher in 1993. Since then, I’ve been around, doing this and that. Finally, I decided this year that I had to work on my own – being in an organization has its own constraints as well. ‘Oh, this is not possible, that is not possible’, your colleagues or seniors will often tell you, just when you think you have come up with a smart idea. Organizational mandates are anyway pretty limited, and I have always wanted to do so many different things…so, let us see where this decision will take me. Like the decision I took in 1993, when I became a schoolteacher, I consider this to be second major one in my life. The decision to marry is probably the third! All such decisions are fraught with risk.
Here I am, doing a study for a local NGO called ‘Gram Niyojan Kendra’, on teachers called the ‘Shiksha Mitras’ of UP. Oh, by the way, there are so many ‘types’ of teachers today in UP and in other states. They have been given fanciful names by the Indian state, like Guruji, Shiksha Mitra and so on. Some even call them ‘contract’ teachers. Theirs is a different story altogether, and we must talk about what the Indian state is doing to its teachers someday. Not now. That’s a sad story anyway.
I travel the country for these assignments, writing, reading, researching, meeting men, women and children, learning, asking questions, trying to do something to ‘change’ our education system. I earn a living for doing this sort of thing. I sell my wares much like a farmer sells his produce, except that in many cases, unlike the poor farmer, I have much better access to people and institutions – they believe that I can deliver a good piece of work. I also get paid much more. In the farmer’s case, somebody else fixes prices in the local market. Very often, the farmer does not get his due. In extreme cases, he is forced to take his life. Remember what’s happening in Vidarbha?
And these hundreds sleeping out here are in many ways no different from me. They are all out to survive, search, make meaning, love, even if it all means leaving home, never to come back in some cases. The Great Indian mobile adventure! It uproots millions, including me. My friend tells me that I have a greater degree of choice and freedom than the farmer, or those who do not even own a piece of land, and are forced to be mobile all the time. I agree. But there are similarities as well. I too came to Delhi, 2500 kilometers from Bangalore, in search of work, leaving my family behind. That’s an important price to pay, isn’t it? I do not know how much choice I had in taking this decision – something had to give in, to make place for something else. It is like this always. This freedom thing is complex to understand. I am not free to do anything I want, perhaps, because I have to make choices, being fully aware of the implications of each choice I make. Doesn’t choice cut down many other possibilities? Or is my understanding of freedom and choice all wrong?
VI
At 1:15 AM, tired of walking up and down, I enter a crowded waiting room on the first floor. There is this sole empty bucket seat, next to a large table in the middle of the room. Two men are sleeping on this table, while another twenty are sleeping around it, in various directions. Inside, there is a toilet, and it smells. Carefully, I make my way to occupy this red colored bucket seat. One of the snoring men on the table is a pot bellied Railway Police Constable. As I occupy my seat, he turns over to face me. His right, bloodshot eye is open, as if watching my exercise of writing with suspicion and derision. He snores, fidgets, and then snores again. The pre-recorded announcements continue, and there are trains rumbling in and out all night. I continue writing. At 2 AM, pangs of hunger set in.
VII
We mentioned Rafiq, didn’t we? I had to sit next to him, in the front seat, to stop him from falling asleep. A conversation was anyway in the offing…and this conversation triggered off some uncomfortable thoughts. Frozen turmoil!
Rafiq too is smart looking, like the other cell phone crazy and girlfriend disturbed driver of June. He looks tired after a sleepless night.
Rafiq, the eldest of all of nine children, stopped going to school after grade 8 and ran away from home, unable to bear the pressure of attending school any longer. He came to Nautanwa, a dusty town on the Nepal border (the place where Gram Niyojan Kendra has its office). Since 1997, he has been working as a driver.
‘My first Malik (master) was a customs man, who had made a lot of money. He was good to me, and paid me Rs.4500/- per month. Some years ago, he was transferred to Lucknow. Since then, I’ve been stuck with this man who is out to suck my blood.’
‘How much does he pay you?’
‘Rs.1500/-, that’s all. It’s a bloody 24 hour job. I told him I couldn’t go with you today…he threatened me and said that he would not pay my salary if I didn’t go. Is this the way to live? Garibi…’ he pauses, his voice choked. I can sense the lump forming in his throat. Silence.
Just then, Savitha my wife calls me from three thousand kilometers away on my cell, which has suddenly entered coverage area. Nikhil wants to speak. ‘Papa, get me the latest Power Ranger. It is called SPD Delta Morpher…’
Aha! The impact of the cartoon network, I think. Before I can recover, there is another demand. ‘I need another new Bey Blade Stadium’. That also reminds me – I’m supposed to write an article about the Bey Blade and how it has taken over the kids in urban homes of India.
‘Will you get him some clothes?’ That’s my wife again. ‘And…’ Snap! Out we go, out of the coverage area…
‘Why don’t you study further, Rafiq? You might get a better job.’ I return to the conversation with my new found driver friend. I’m not very sure if my suggestion would mean anything to him. He laughs bitterly, ‘Of what use will it be Saheb? Will it fill my stomach? There are so many who have studied, who are roaming without any work.’ This is Rafiq’s challenge to the human capital theory.
Like a good father, I will get things that my son desires. Like a good father, I will buy him books as well, hoping that he will pick up the reading habit. If he can learn to decode text, he can perhaps decode the world…and if he can do that, with a little bit of sensitivity, he can perhaps change many things for himself and for others.
Back to coverage area. ‘Listen, get me some clothes.’ Oh, I need to buy a printer, a scanner, a flat screen and speakers for my computer. Am I not supposed to set up an office, now that I’m on my own? However, money from my last assignment is yet to come! Our needs are endless.
The Great Indian Mobile adventure! Wherever you go, the network follows…
VIII
Something snapped, and I cried within, silently…how many different worlds humans inhabit. What an incredible variety of human experience there is! What pain, suffering and despair must we all undergo…
Some have everything they might desire, yet they are not happy. Many do not have much, and they wonder why they are that way. Like Rafiq who keeps asking perhaps. He is only painfully aware of the differences.
For a few moments, I was torn asunder, painfully aware of this schism, this chasm…I cried again, and my breathing quickened. I tried not to show it. We drove silently.
IX
My train arrived at 0815. I saw it come in on platform 2, as the other train I was in, rumbled out of Gorakhpur. I was advised by the ticket collector not to trust train number 1123. ‘Instead’, he said, ‘Book the one that comes at 0745. It’ll take you to Kanpur faster, and you will get your Shatabdi from there.’ So I had to cancel this ticket that would have entitled me to a journey in an air conditioned compartment, and purchased another which would entitle me to get into what they call the ‘Jan Sadharan’ express which does not have any reserved compartments. This one was going all the way to Ahmedabad.
After walking up and down for 15 minutes, I found a compartment in which I could stand. Eventually, I pushed myself inside and sat on the edge of a seat. After an hour, I was a little more comfortable. In this packed train, I could have observed many more things about how people live. I chose not to.
Meanwhile, many more events had occurred on platform one. By 0600, almost everyone had woken up, and left in this or that train, all over UP, Bihar and beyond. The platform was cleaned. First, they swept it, and then, they poured water to wipe it clean from one end to the other. Only one thin man remained, about who I have not written so far. He was still lying on the ground, legs spread out, eyelids popping out, breathing deeply. Flies covered him from head to toe on Gorakhpur’s platform one.
X
There are those moments, as I wrote in the beginning, which make you think, which remind you that all is not well with the way we humans live and treat each other. This was one such moment.
Shesh
August 2006
Gorakhpur, UP

Creating your own mathematics...

I was ploughing through my old writings today and came across this interesting article on 'creating our own mathematics which I had written almost ten years ago, in 1998. Happy reading!

When I was experimenting…
Wanting to do something different for a change a few days ago, I amused myself with a little bit of mathematics. In our work, we are always trying to make the life of the teachers and children much better in the primary school classroom. Any mathematical activity which we undertake is with this objective.
I was playing around with a seemingly innocent problem of subtracting 169 from 637. However, I did it “my” way which was different from the “normal” and “accepted” method taught in school. Here goes:
100 + 100 + 100 + 100 + 31 + 37 = 468 (answer)
169 --- 269 --- 369 --- 469 --- 569 --- 600 --- 637
You are correcting an annual examination paper, and one of your children has come out with a working process with the answer as written above – what would your reaction be? Without being harsh on the teacher community, I would be tempted to say that this would invoke the much dreaded red cross against (and across) the answer. Not only that, the child would be pulled up with “This kind of an answer will not get you anywhere. No marks for this! Where is your working?” This would be followed by a “recapitulation” (torture) of the method:
637
-- 169
-------------
468
-------------
Of course, you’ll have to remember how to “carry one”, “borrow one”, and “pay it back”.
Have you noticed how bus conductors deal with cash and return change? Suppose you have bought a ticket for Rs.5/-, and you hand over a Rs.50/- note. Many conductors, who have the habit being vocal about how they return the change, will be heard to say, “Ten, twenty, thirty, forty, fifty”. When “ten” is being said, the conductor actually gives you Rs.5/-, and then successively gives ten rupee notes till he comes to 50. In the process, you’ll have been given
5 + 10 + 10 + 10 + 10 = 45
Sabjiwalas use this method every minute. Where do the conductors and sabjiwalas have the time to “carry, borrow and pay it back?” Some of the sabjiwalas may not be even “numerate” in our definition. How are they able to manage?
Inspired with this discovery, I continued playing around with more problems. Consider the product: 17 X 14. This is how we normally do it in school:
17 X 14
----------
68
170
----------
238
There are other ways of doing this problem:
One way would be…
(10 + 7) X (10 + 4)
= (10 X 10) + (10 X 4) + (7 X 10) + (7 X 4)
= 100 + 40 + 70 + 28
= 238
Can you think of other ways? How many of us wonder what takes place in the mind of the child when given a problem like, say,
56 + 27
Answer?
There is something about the ease with which we use a readymade algorithm (an algorithm is a set of rules or procedures) whose logic we may not even understand, which stops us thinking about how we would approach a problem like 56 + 27. Mechanically, we follow the rule of “carrying over”. As teachers, we do not take the trouble to find out what happens in the mind of a child when it sees the problem. It may be more natural for many children to add 50 and 20 to get 70, and then add 7 and 6 to obtain 13. The final answer can then be got by adding 70 and 13. No wonder, we then let the children fall into a set of habits which, in the long run, close their minds to other possibilities. Our associations with particular procedures and our rigidity with particular symbols are so often tight that a child of eight may not know the answer to 7 multiplied by 5 but know straight away what 7 times 5 gives!
To subtract 169 from 639, it is surprising how many personal procedures (or algorithms) there are, and yet, we are often stuck with the method we have learnt in school. Algorithms may help us to ease the problem of writing procedures in a symbolic way, but that is not the end in itself. Consider another personal procedure for the same problem (i.e., 637 – 169):

169:31
31 and 37 is 68
and there are 6-less-2 hundreds
Answer: 468
Here is a final example:
Since 637 = 100 + 100 +100 +100 + 100 +100 + 30 + 7, and
169 = 100 + 60 + 9, it follows that 637 – 169 can be written as
100 + 100 + 100 + 100 + 100 + 100 + 30 + 7
-- (100 + 60 + 9)
------------------------------------------------------------
0 + 40 + 91 + 100 + 100 + 100 + 30 + 7
------------------------------------------------------------
The reader is left to obtain the answer in whichever way is convenient. Notice how the above approach also helps in understanding the idea of the expanded notation. Notice also, that, in this case, “borrowing” as we would do it normally in a subtraction problem, is not required at all! After enough practice has been provided in the use of the expanded notation, the same problem could be now written as:
600 + 30 + 7
-- (100 + 60 + 9)
---------------------
468 + 0 + 0
---------------------
The process would be: Nine is greater than 7. Therefore we would need to borrow at least 2 from 30, and add it to 7. 9 – 9 is now equal to 0. By taking 2 from 30, we have made it 28. To subtract 60, we would need to take at least 32 from 600. Similarly, 60 – 60 is 0. Since we have removed 32 from 600, we are left with 568. 568 – 100 is therefore 468, the answer.
Another typical way of solving this problem would be – starting from the left, i.e., from 600, we could begin by removing 100. We are now left with 500. But we see that 30 is lesser than 60, and 7 is lesser than 9. Therefore, how much would we need to borrow from 500 to subtract 60 and 9? First, take away 30, and add this to the 30 we already have. 60 – 60 is zero, and 500 – 30 is 470. We need to add 2 to 7, so that 9 is also cancelled in the same manner. Finally, we are left with 470 – 2, which is 468.
Notice how the expanded notation is used, and how this gradually gives way to the illustration and use of the place value. The procedure of “borrowing” is very clearly shown. You don’t always have to borrow 10 or 100. On the other hand, the amount that you need to borrow is flexible, and depends on what is required to be borrowed. Borrowing can also be done in many different ways. By admitting this idea, we are allowing enough scope for the child to think and explore to find out how to go about a particular problem. And each problem brings with it a new experience and challenge.
Often, the tendency is to teach expanded notation, place value and operations on numbers separately. This piece meal approach prevents one from seeing the connections.
The methods explained so far do not destroy for me the other ways of subtracting that I know. Very often, the procedures we follow in our minds when doing a problem cannot be put on paper without making them to appear clumsy and chaotic to the reader. The above examples are sufficient to illustrate this. This does not mean that these methods are not correct, are ‘slow’, and therefore should not be followed. The only advantage of following the method learnt in school is that it can be put down on paper without the need for elaboration. Secondly, these methods help us to compute quickly. This brings us to the next question…
“What is the best method?” I do not want to ask this question without counter-demanding, “For what purpose?” There is nothing sacred about a particular method. In fact, the popular perception which tremendously influences our attitudes as teachers and parents towards children is that
Speed = Brilliance,
Slowness = Dullness
There are certain misplaced notions about what about the ‘qualities’ of a ‘good’ student of mathematics - the ability to compute fast, and the ability to handle big numbers. Shakuntala Devi is often referred to as a great mathematician (which she’s not!), because she can multiply two twelve digit numbers with ease, or obtain the square root of a ten digit number faster than the computer. Often, parents and teachers take pride in such skills that their children may have developed. Pray, what purpose will this serve to a child in an ordinary school classroom and later on in life? As adults, we can only pretend to understand the value of, say, 1 light year (the distance covered by light in one year, at the speed of 3,00,000 km/sec) which is 9460800000000 Km. Why should we torture our children then?
Mathematics is not just about how fast you can calculate, or your ability to play around with big numbers which may mean little to you in everyday life. It is not limited to the application of readymade, uniform procedures to the solution of problems. It is about cultivating the ability to create and explore paths which we can identify with. It is often said that in order to learn mathematics, one needs to create (re-create) it for oneself. The examples discussed so far clearly illustrate this. What we consider to be the “fundamental” or “basic” principles of mathematics at the school level have taken thousands of years to develop. It necessarily follows that we cannot force the learning pace with children. Yet, how easily frustrated we become when we see a “wrong” answer! The truth may be that this wrong answer represents a genuine exploration on the part of the child, a struggle to comprehend.
Most often, we do not let out children explore different ways to arrive at an answer with the argument that forming habits (in my words, the ability to mindlessly repeat) are a protection against the confusion that could take over if the mind began to charge off in too many directions. This uncertainty of not knowing what will happen makes us hold our cards close to our chests, and “protect” the interests of the child.
The truth is that, as parents and teachers, we would like our children to cultivate and perfect these skills and habits so that they can ‘do well’ in the examinations and score high marks. Remember, the competition is tough out there! But, in the name of this competition, are we not inhibiting the natural ways of learning in our children? You decide…
How can we have an environment where both experiences, i.e., formalized procedures and treatment of topics, are reconciled with exploration, imagination and the freeness to think? While it is possible to go in all kinds of directions without necessarily having the ability to be able to compute fast, or be precise, this imagination would be useless without care in developing appropriate skills. On the other hand, these skills (of calculation, of being able to apply procedures, etc.) cannot be developed in isolation of the ability to be able to explore, imagine and think freely.
26th April, 1998

What Children tell...

This is the foreword to a study I recently finished for Room to Read (India). For those who are interested in what children say about the books they read, this study may offer some interesting insights. Since I cannot add the entire text here, you can e-mail me at giri.shesh@gmail.com, asking for the entire report. Or, download the entire report from this link: http://www.mediafire.com/?hmhwyvmewgq

"Literature for children has to go a long way in our country. Given the size, number of children and diversity in terms of language, geography and culture, books for children are too few. The case is acute with the majority of our children who go to government run schools. For instance, Room to Read India’s collection of story books in Hindi from all the available publishers for primary and elementary school going children numbers just 432! We are sure that the situation in other regional languages is no different. What about their quality and appropriateness? On several counts, this too deserves serious attention. Compare this with the thousands of books that exist for children in some countries of Europe, and the West. Not all of them may be good, or even appropriate. But their numbers seem to suggest that publishing or children is a serious business in these countries.

As adults who write and publish for children, it is important for us to believe that we know what children need and like. Without this belief, the edifice on which children’s literature is based would collapse. This study attempts to keep that belief aside for a moment. In addition, it endeavors to ask some new questions: what do children think about the books they read? Can we use this understanding to create better books for children? In this sense, this study attempts to break some fresh ground.

Along the way, we realized that the above two questions could not be answered without painting a larger canvas – that of understanding childhood itself, in all its richness, diversity and complexity. The experience that a child brings to reading a book is rooted in his or her upbringing – family, friends, community, and so on. As they grow, they create their own stories and narratives. It is the interface between this experience and the encounter with books that determines what children like or look forward to, as far as literature is concerned. Therefore, for us to understand what kinds of literature may be good for children from their own vantage points, it is important to first understand their narratives which really are reflections of who they are.

Room to Read (India) has enabled us to ask these questions through this study. Many thanks are due to them, particularly to Uddalak, Sunisha and Nita for believing that such a line of enquiry could throw up some insights. Thanks are also due to my colleagues Richa and Rekha for their enduring enthusiasm and reflections.

If this study can contribute even in a small way towards understanding where children come from, it will have served its purpose. Happy Reading...!"

Sunday Musings

‘He needs to score more marks. He has lost 4-5 marks in language and literature, and in my subject, general science. Though he has got 100% in mathematics, I’m not sure if that is correct, as his math teacher is very lenient…’ That is how the conversation between my six and a half year old son’s class teacher of grade 1 and me, started yesterday. It was the first parent-teacher meeting after his first term tests. ‘And yes,’ she went on, ‘His handwriting has gone to the dogs…’ Sniff, sniff! My son sat next to me. I wondered what was going on in his mind. ‘If he had got ten more marks, I would have ranked him,’ she rued. Thus, in the general remarks section, she had written, ‘Good. Could do better. Try for higher rank.’ We discussed nothing else about his schooling experience.

As this monologue went on, I interrupted: ‘I’m not so much concerned about his marks…I know he is intelligent.’ What bothered me instead was this overt emphasis on scoring marks, almost to the exclusion of everything else. What a stifling way to begin one’s schooling!

Just the other day, as I was helping him with his math homework, I discovered that he had started learning subtraction with borrowing. He had been taught, ‘When the number below is more than the number above you have to borrow one from the neighbor…’ I soon found out that this had been taught without introducing the notion of place value. The teaching of mathematics depends on a sequence in which higher order concepts cannot be taught without first teaching the more basic concepts. This was just one instance where this rule had been violated.

I requested a meeting with the math teacher, an old woman who had probably seen many years of teaching. “We have taught them ‘units and tens’,” she said. For proof’s sake, she asked my son. He nodded in agreement. But her explanation was not satisfactory. What does ‘borrow the one’ mean? Are we really borrowing one? Why should we borrow only one? It was clear that this had not been explained. Likewise, in addition, children are told to ‘carry forward’. Unlike subtraction in which you can subtract only one number at a time, in addition, one can add any number of numbers. You can carry forward more than one: thus, when we add the numbers 9, 19 and 27, 9+9+9 = 27. We then write down 7 and ‘carry forward 2’, i.e. 20, which is actually two tens (or two units of ten). All of this looks like a bag of tricks which children learn quite fast through endless repetition at school and home. What they do not learn is the underlying structure of the numbers, and how this structure comes into play during number operations. For this, a basic idea of place value is necessary. This expands the child’s conception of number and prepares her for greater learning adventures.

I have seen much older children going around chanting this ‘borrow the one’ procedure as they solve subtraction sums. Thus, by limiting ourselves to a teaching of mathematical procedure, we are preventing the child from understanding the deeper structures and patterns of the subject. This is not surprising, since teachers have also come through the same system for years. It has worked because exams also do not test understanding. Even if they cannot understand everything in the first instance, it is our job as teachers and parents to set them up on that path. I have come across many 90%+ children whose understanding of the basics is very suspect.
One of the aims of education, I would believe, is to foster understanding in children. Much to my frustration, I continue to discover this aim being bypassed without much thought, day after day. ‘I must change his school soon,’ I thought. Finding a school which teaches for understanding is going to be difficult…

Giri
18th November 2007
Bangalore

What are we doing with our children?

The development of the Kargil Education Strategy (KES) document has now entered the final stage. After many months of hard work beginning from March this year, we are now in a position to present our key findings and suggest ways forward in order to improve the education we provide for our children in the coming years. While we are very excited about sharing what all we have found with the people of Kargil, we are also very disturbed with many of our findings. These have often angered and frustrated us. Sometimes, we have also been puzzled as to why things are the way they are. Of course, there has been no shortage of explanations – we have our own theories to explain what we have found!

A key aspect that attracts a lot of attention in children’s education is their achievement on some agreed upon indicators – through these parameters, we would like to find out what children have learnt after a few years of schooling. Some indicators are universally recognized – go to any country, and you will find many a person interested in education, discussing them -- the so called ‘achievement’ indicators which test children’s abilities in basic arithmetic and language. For me, these indicators are not the only things which tell us if our education system is functioning well. Still, they are an important part of what children should achieve after a few years of schooling.

As part of the field studies in 24 villages all over Kargil district, we investigated various aspects that determine children’s education. One of these was the testing of children’s abilities in arithmetic and language. We tested 99 grade 5 children (29 boys and 70 girls, i.e., all grade 5 children from these 24 villages) for elementary arithmetic and oral, reading and writing skills. Please note that the tests were all pitched at grade 2 and grade 3. We have summarized the results of the arithmetic test for you. In a nutshell, this is how the results look:

Addition -- 76% boys and 65% girls could do the addition sums
Subtraction -- 63% boys and 55% girls could do the subtraction problems
Multiplication -- 55% boys and 44% girls could solve simple multiplication sums
Division -- 31% boys and 31% girls only could correctly solve division problems

I would leave you to understand the figures we have obtained. You can do your own analysis and put forward your own explanations. Still, let me leave you with some thoughts and questions. Firstly, what are we doing with our children? Why are these results the way they are? Who is responsible for this state of affairs? What worries me is that after five years of schooling, grade 5 children are not able to solve the most elementary grade 2 or grade 3 level arithmetic problems. I would be tempted to say that we are cheating them and wasting their time in school! What would the results have been like if we had administered a grade 5 level test, instead?

On the whole, the difference between boys and girls is not as high as one would have expected. There are significant inter-block variations, though, like in Kargil, Taisuru and Zanskar blocks, for example. The only block where girls outsmart boys is in Drass. The figures for Drass bring some respectability within the overall % for girls. Otherwise, the overall differences would have been stark. One more point – we should do an ‘error analysis’ to find out what are the kinds of mistakes children are committing, and identify the reasons for the same. The teaching and understanding of place value, for instance, seems to be one of the key problems.

One last comment – notice the huge difference in the number of boys and girls in grade 5 in these 24 government schools. There were 29 boys and 70 girls at the time of the test. Where are the rest of the boys? My guess is that they flood the private fee-charging schools. This shows clearly where parents are putting their money to educate their children. Of course, this demands another article.

Do write in, and tell me your reactions.