Bouquet for Booklet

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 "I was down in the dumps for two days and was thinking of giving it all up altogether...and go forth as a mendicant.

But...as they have it in two-penny novellas...something turned up the next day to revive me like a watered lily...that story is for tomorrow."

 http://gpsastry.blogspot.in/2012/12/words-words-words.html

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Ishani has been living with us her 5th month onwards. And it has been great fun watching her grow. Nothing could have given me more pleasure in my old age.

As a matter of gratitude to her and also as a long-term memento, I have been regularly bringing out slim booklets with her name in the title of each...called Ishani Booklets. The contents of each are a selection of about 20 blog-posts of general interest. There are now five of these booklets. After distributing them to about 40 of my close friends and relatives, I stock the left-over copies in a safe in a thick bag. I have shown this bag to my son and D-i-L asking them to safe-keep it till Ishani grows up. 

And I keep a copy each stacked one above the other at the head of my cot between the pillows.

As soon as Ishani started crawling and when she was let go on our bed, she would rush on her fours to this stack and throw them one after the other behind her with her left hand. That was her favorite play. And I would plead with her not to soil and spoil them since they are all her precious property, and to impress this upon her, I would read their titles aloud for her. 

And her face would glow hearing her name on them.

When she started lisping, about a couple of years back, she was on a visit to Nellore. And there she was found holding a newspaper sheet in front of her and pretending to read. Her mom asked her what it was that she was reading and got the reply:

"Bithwin u and me and lithil Ishani"

Since then she has developed a proprietary attitude to that stack of her books.

For the past six months she has been going to the nearby Lily (Convent) School, 5 minutes drive from our place. After a month of passive resistance, she started enjoying the Nursery Class of her school.  When my son drives to her school to fetch her at noon, I invariably accompany him. For, watching kids run out of their school is the most enjoyable experience...all of them are so JOLLY to be let out of their 3-hour confinement.

Three weeks back there was Ishani's first Parent-Teacher Meeting. And my son and D-i-L and Ishani went in with li'l li'l butterflies in their hearts...what would her Ma'am say? That Ishani is dull, rowdy, clumsy, lazy...

But, soon after the introductions, the youthful Ma'am Ms 'M', born and brought up in Bengal and placed in Hyderabad, discovered that my son too was born and brought up in Bengal for all of his 24 years. And then there flourished  this feast of reason and flow of soul between these two Probashi Bengalis, forgetting all about Ishani and her mom (which she naturally resented), and fondly recalling their respective childhoods in Shonar Bangla.

To impress her further, my son told Ms. 'M' that his dad is even more of a Bengali than him, having stayed all of 40 years of his prime time in Bengal. And she got curious about this character, and my son, beating the iron when it was hot, told her that his dad writes Rhymes and Booklets in English. That made Ms. 'M' even more curious and asked my son to let her have a copy of the Booklets 'tomorrow' without fail...

As soon as they returned from their P-T Meet, my son and D-i-L told me what went on and asked me for a copy of the booklets...

But I demurred. There were only a few copies left. Again, such polite requests for 'literature' are not to be taken seriously. You forget & I'll forget...ok...like co-passengers in Madras Mail who get chummy for 24 hours and exchange cards and then forget...

So, I told my son to wait and see if she reminds him of it. And, as it happened, Ms 'M' descended the steps of her school the next day and asked my son, "Where are the booklets?"

As you know, the request of a teacher of your ward is an order...

So, I asked Ishani:

"Your Ma'am wants an Ishani booklet...shall I give her one?"

Ishani was emphatic:

"No!"

That was a great moment for me. 

But next day I picked up a precious copy of the latest "Ishani's Parrot & Other Old Gold Tales", scribbled on its inside cover:

"With Best Wishes to Ms 'M' ",

signed it, enclosed it in a cloth-lined stapled envelope, and handed it to my son....the IIT KGPian drill of doing things as they ought to be done.

And my son went up the steps and handed it over to her next day. 

And we forgot all about it.

The day after that, another young lady teacher from Rajasthan, Ms. 'S', descended the hallowed steps, and met us and said:

"We have all read the first chapter and more of the Ishani Booklet, and we just love the way you portrayed your cute family. Our Principal, Ms. 'L', wants to meet you tomorrow."

And that sent butterflies in my stomach...for it is more than 25 years since I attended a formal interview...and that too with the Principal of Ishani's Lily School! But I comforted myself that it was all politeness and nothing drastic would materialize.

And I told Ishani in the car on our way back:

"Your Ma'am told me that she read your 'Ishani Parrot' book."

 "Did she return it?"

That was indeed an amazing come-back.

The next day I got into my best costume...just in case...and arrived at the landing of the Lily School at noon with my son as usual.

And before we could run back with Ishani into the car, Ms. 'S' caught us again and led us into her Supremo's plush Office. And I was expecting to be received by an oldish greyish fatish no-nonsense Boss in horn-rimmed specs. But, no! Ms. 'L' (L for Lily) turned out to be another young and nice lady standing in her office to meet her guests. And she turned out to be the Owner of the Lily School too.

And by the way she told me during our brief chat that she was born and brought up in Vizagh. That sent me fly at a tangent...for I told her that I too spent 7 golden youthful years at Vizagh much much before she was born...and we two started reminiscing fondly our respective formative years. And she too told us:

"The Ishani Booklet is very enjoyable...I got a glimpse of your close-knit family...thank you!"

And as I was getting up to quit, she asked for Ms. 'M' to come and both of them did the most amazing thing that happened to me in my life...they gifted me a Big Bouquet!!!

I was so pleased and tickled and was glowing:

"A big bouquet for my Booklet!"

And was so much overjoyed that I gave my son my Nokia Asha and asked him to click a group photo of the Ceremony for Ishani's remembrance.

And the next day, we return-gifted another stapled envelope with another spare copy of another booklet, "Granpa's Tall Tales for Ishani and Friends" to the Principal, with the dedication:

"With Best Compliments to Ms. 'L' "

And my son enclosed an enlarged copy of the famous group photo printed on regular photo-paper along with the booklet.

And then it was the turn of Ms. 'L' to BEAM with delight!

 

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Thick Tongues

London:  'Phenomenon' is the word most people find hardest to pronounce, followed closely by 'remuneration', according to a new UK poll.

.....DC, Page 7, Monday 24 December 2012

I guess British tongues are the thickest. They are ok with Jack and Jill and Smith and Tom. And are bowled when they meet our:

Arundhuti Chattopadhyay ('that's all'), as she put it

When they met with Visakhapatnam they shortened it to Vizagh. And Tiruvanantapuram to Trivandrum. 

I guess the original names have by now been fully restored officially, with a vengeance. 

When I was sending him selected shlokas of the Brihadaranyaka Upanishad every morning (his), Edwin and I agreed to call it BU, and shorten:

Yagnyavalkya to Yagi...

When I was 20 I read the Bhagavadgita in its Sanskrit original. When I came to this samaasam (5-8,9):

Pashyanchrunvansprishanjighrannasnangachchanswapan

chwasanpralapanvishrujangrinhannunmishannimishannapi

I was in deep trouble pronouncing the whole thing at one go till I learned its 13-word breakup. Phew! Let Edwin try THAT!


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Whither Modesty?

What is happening to our esteemed columnists these days?

One calls himself an 'intellectual'

Another, a 'social science nomad'

Yet another, an 'educator'

I don't think, in the bylines of his syndicated columns, Paul Krugman permits himself to be called a Nobel Laureate...

What about ME? Perhaps I should dub myself: 

'Master Blogster'


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