Thursday, August 15, 2013

Midwives' Children

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One more Independence Day in my 70 years of life...Freedom and I are almost coeval.

Ishani's convent school is closed today...this never happened with our Muthukur School in the early 1950s. Our Freedom was young then.  We used to look forward to this day when our teachers insisted we attend the school sharp at 8 AM since there would be the Flag Hoisting Ceremony (flag somehow hoisted, raining flower-petals, by my HM Father). And lots of drills, marchpasts and stuff...and distribution of free pocket-pinnable paper flags of our proud Tricolor...and chacklets (toffees) for those that survived the ceremonies.

Ishani is in what was once called LKG...now they call it PP1. Each student is given a 'free' Almanac at the beginning of the year...the only almanac that I was familiar with was the Panchangam (Panjika). There was this entry in Ishani's Almanac the other day that their school would be celebrating the Independence Day on the 14th August...like our Western neighbor...no harm meant. 

And all kids had to wear dress with the three (or two or at least one) colors of our Tricolor. Ishani's dad fished out a white T-shirt with lots of green blotches on its chest. And green leggings. And as for saffron, she had to make do with her reddish hair-clips. Her outfit was much appreciated by her teachers, it looks...for she ran out of her school with a broad smile. The only hitch (pointed out by Ishani's mom) was that her T-shirt had this bold legend: "Holland"...but I guess it is ok in these days of globalization.

Ishani was born in a nursing home per Caesarian. So too did her dad. But his dad and all his siblings were born @home with the help of village midwives.

Our HM's speech (drone) always stressed the significance of the colors of our flag...by the way, it is a misnomer to call it a tricolor...there is this blue too...fourth color.

Our HM told us that saffron represents sacrifice...he didn't tell us why. And that white represents purity...ditto. And green is for abundance...ditto. And the wheel stands for Dharma...ditto. But he didn't mention what the blue of the wheel stands for...I checked wiki just now and it too is silent on the blue.

But there were rumors (spread by our Muslim and Christian teachers) that saffron stands for Hindus, white stands for Christians, Green stands for Muslims and the wheel is actually the Ashok Chakra which stands for Buddhists.

And some of our Muslim teachers encouraged our Muslim students (there were many) to wear their tricolors upside down...recall those were the days when the pangs of Partition were fresh in the nation's memory.

The flag hoisting ceremony began with Vande Mataram and ended with Jana Gana Mana . We could somehow make out the meaning of Vande Mataram because it is heavily Sanskritised...like our Telugu. But we had no clue what the Jana Gana Mana meant literally.

Except when it came to the regions of our motherland. There was a subtle rancor against Tagore that he mentioned the tiny (spit into two) Bengal as Vanga while he brushed off the 4 vast states of the South in one word: Draavida. And then the partition of the Madras took place and the new state of Andhra was born (not yet unified into AP and to be bisected or trisected any day now). 

So our sub-patriots wanted to change the line:

"...Punjaba Sindhu Gujerata Maratha..."

into:

"...Punjaba Andhra Gujerata Maratha..."



The logic was that Sind went to Pakistan and it is the Andhra that is the newborn state.

But nothing came out of it happily...since now Haryana, Chattisgarh, Nagaland, Bodoland and others would claim mention...e.g:

"...Punjaba Naga Gujerata Maratha..."

In Muthukur we did have a separate colony outside our village that we used to call Malawada...the colony of Harijans.

I didn't see any untouchability in our school...we had many students from Malawada and teachers like Raanemma, Mariyamma, who called themselves: Converted Christians living outside the Malawada.

And there was this lone girl in the School Final in 1955. She used to walk to the school from her home in Malawada. She wore saris since she was no longer a das madchen. One day she stopped coming to school. And there were rumors (confirmed to my mom by my HM Father) that she drank varnish and died...apparently she was in ditched-love with the richest Reddy boy in the class...the one who came wearing goggles to the class and was turned out by the HM.

Nothing happened...it was suppressed.

But a couple of years later we heard that a young newly-wed Reddy landlord was dragged out of his bullock cart and killed on the outskirts of Malawada. 

That was scary...

Anyway, our trips to the Malawada came once a year on the Independence Day. The final event of the program was that all students led by their class-teachers would walk in a line in the hot sun to Malawada singing patriotic songs. And the HM would distribute free chacklets to its street urchins. Like anyone of us those kids were too happy...

Much has changed since then to Ishani's Independence Day.

Everyday in every way we get better and bitter...

Samatvam Yoga Uchyate!


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1 comment:

Anonymous said...

Dear Sir,

I think this is one of your best blogs on our independence. Thanks a lot!