Kolatkar, Boatride and Other Memories.

We were reorganising our bookshelves over the weekend. I have lost, given away many books over the years, always expecting them to return to me in some form, at some point of time. But wait, this isn't about that.  While, I can "buy" some book again, some books are just too close to be lost. 

Kolatkar's “Boat ride and other poems” was one such book. I have gone back to that book in times of despair and angst. A friend if you will . When I couldn't find it, I felt a deep sense of loss. I looked all Saturday and Sunday. On Monday, I was close to giving up. I was wondering who took that book. All shelves and corners had been cleaned and looked at. I knew for sure, of all books I had, that one I would never lend. But this is not about that angst either. 

It had been on mind so much that I dreamt of it. Have you ever wondered about your dreams? I do. I'm very intrigued by my dreams. They say it's a manifestation of your subconscious, so I always wonder what triggers those dreams. And what memories it elicits. They also say you actually don't see colours in your dream and when you remember the dreams , it is actually a juxtaposition of those with your own senses, of sounds, smells and colours. 

So, I had this dream. I went on boat. From the Gateway of India. Through Elephanta. At the turn strangely, I was at Chilika. And stranger still I got off at my door step at home. My home , which is on a valley, no sea, no lake. I was still looking for my book. I asked everyone on the way. Strangers, friends, some who I haven't spoken to in years. I spoke to them about the book and if they had seen it. The blue waves on the cover , the odd size of the book and the poems themselves. 

By the way, dreams are rarely this linear. I was going back and forth. And this isn't about that too. 

It's about the library I arrived at. My first library. I had my own before I could walk, but this was a proper library, where you could borrow books from. I opened the old cupboard, and there it was, the shiny bright blue book, sitting atop the oldest books. That's when I woke up. With a feeling I must find the book. Or order it. 

And I have been thinking of that library since. 

It was a library started by my uncle, my father's older brother. It was the darkest mustiest room in the entire household. The almirahs were wooden, with these little intricately designed locks. All the keys went into this big bunch. He had named it after my grandmother. "Kumudini Library".I’m not sure who borrowed books from there. It probably had about two thousand books, of all kinds.  It was a memory that had been forgotten. And the dream brought back that from some deep corner. The memories of my first formal library when I was about three I think. The smells of the musty books. The feel of the yellowed pages. I ran my fingers over the books, not recognising many letters or words, but with a deep sense of belonging. To that smell, to that feeling being a part of the rows of books. 

So weird. There is another memory that has been found too. But more on that later. I wanted to record this before I forget. 

And yes, the actual book has been found. It was sitting with Babu's 10th prep books, which he has tied in a box and kept away. The poems were probably figuring out the probability of me finding them , in the Math books or finding Chemistry in Babu's box.Probably feeling more at home than in my little book shelf. We will never know.  

Responding to COVID-19: Charity starts at home.

My men friends (and women friends too), Just because I'm feeling it, I'm going to write a longish message. 

After all the time Ravi and i have been together, mostly fighting , the question I always ask what is that spark that keeps us together? 

And the answer is , I can always depend on him when we need him. Even when I'm fighting with him or he is with me, we both know, we are in this together. That we respect each other and deeply acknowledge the value the other brings to our lives. 

We are in 21st day of the lockdown.(And believe me, this is the longest we have stayed together in the same city- let alone the same house) . We have had crisis after crisis, both at work and home. Finally our washing machine too died a few days earlier to add to our already crazy lives.

But, I've a zillion things to be thankful for. I have babu who I can depend on and not counting Caesar who is our love bug. 

And I was wondering about everyone else and how they are doing. 

Ravi has been sharing housework, helping with doing the dishes, cleaning, mopping, washing clothes, watering the plants- even though we both have strict timelines at work. And more important than anything, we discuss what the other needs- what help is needed for the day and who will do what. Sometimes , we mess up or slacken off or slip up- but that is ok, because we know it is a tough time and we have to manage it together. 

I also realise, how easy it can be to take things for granted. Mothers who have worked at home, thanklessly. Wives who do their "jobs" like robots through the day. But no- that is not their "job".

Let's first acknowledge that. Houseworks is everyone's work. Do not fall for the age old stereotypes, because this generation has to act- and change consciously to break these. You've heard it enough- time to practice.

It can be difficult for men- who have been pampered and taught that their role is a "man's" role. No, it isn't. 

So go ahead, and break the stereotypes. It will be difficult at first. You will get stares from moms, some bit of tana like "Joru ka Ghulam" etc, but deal with it. Most of all, I think you will also need to deal with your own feelings when you start doing work that you have never before. But hey- It's basic life skills. The pain comes with the territory. Right now YOUR household doesn't have a maid. YOUR household is also going through crisis. Do your bit. 

And Women, Ask for help. Don't keep silent and continue doing all the jobs alone. You too are feeling the isolation. Stay-At-Home women, your spaces are now continually intruded by people and you've lost your freedom. So, ASK for help. Assign tasks. NO- it is not your job. It is not your household only. It is of everyone who stays in the house. And no- this is not a holiday. It is a crisis and everyone in the house needs to respond like it's one. 

Break the stereotypes ! We will get through this- together. And only together. And those who are already doing it- Thank you for being real men.

I am woman

I am
woman

When you burn me
I only shine my light
I am fire

When you push me
I get stronger
I am diamond

When you break me
Each piece reflects my being
I am mirror

When you throw me in water
I create ripples
I am waves

When you bury me
I birth and grow a mutiny
I am seed

When you throw me
I fly the sky
I am wings

I am woman



Inspired by and in dedication to every woman I know.

May we know them. May we be them. May we raise them.

Mother Language

I've lived in places I can't remember
the first language I learnt wasn't my mother's

It was a language I adapted to
as I stayed over at my "almost adopted" parents

I've forgotten that language though
well most of it anyways

The many places have given me many languages

When someone asks, I do not know
how to answer to the question
of what tongue is my mother's

How does it matter, my mind rolls its eyes
And the tongue perhaps
The languages in my mind are mixed and queer

My mind
plays its own games
where languages skip and hop
and dance with each other

It laughs when I still sometimes
with so many languages in my head

Forget how to get my thoughts across

(On International Mother Language Day 2020)

Hope

The summer we spoke
when the little purple grass flowers
grazed against my ankles
in the early May wind
In Keonjhar

We met for the first time
In the summer breeze
by the sea
In Puri

The first monsoons together
by the coast
As children walked in Prabhat pheri
to celebrate independence
In Vizag

The time we walked
hand in hand
in the early winters
through the Parthasarathi rocks
In Delhi


When we set up our first home
little by little
with things we built
with our own hands
in the November heat
In Mumbai

I keep these memories
like books dog-eared
that I can pick from the shelf
and sniff
and read


In those pages
we fall in love
again and again
quickly
slowly
through the years

Ra-Vi

Sometimes
I have the urge
Like some others
To shorten your name
To the first syllable
Call you "Ra"
Call myself "Vi"

And funnily,
When I combine them
To make a couple name
You still retain your name
When I loose half

How unfair. 

Insider Tips for a Successful Ed-Tech Intervention

India has 144 million children in schools. And if they could make one informed ask, it would be for better teaching and learning, should we believe what National surveys are saying about the quality of education in Government school classrooms across the country. 

Given the numbers, this is a perfect arena for ed-tech sector to startlooking at seriously in the coming years. Investment in education has been shown to leave a dizzying array of benefits, including a possible upward impact on the national GDP, reducing the national financial burden by creating an educated and empowered workforce .

Today, there is a huge need to revamp and rebuild the education sector, that will build a generation that is not only current in knowledge and skills, but in fact future-ready, one that is able to adapt and change as per times and the unpredictability of markets. To do that, one has to move from focus on infrastructur development  and enrolment to focusing on innovations that will impact how teacher’s teach and how children learn. At the end of the day, the only currency in education is learning outcomes.

Here are our key learnings as we have tried to solve this challenge :

Create a Model for scale.

India is known as a graveyard of great models. And let’s face it. It’s easy to show impacts in smaller scale,  by creating or simulating conditions for success. But beyond those conditions lie the real contexts, which is difficult to control. This does not mean creating big programmes and achieving big numbers (Which is crucial probably to showcase the scalability, but nothing beyond that). What scale really means is that, will the programme succeed in larger and complex contexts, where one would have limited controls and variable factors would not be easy to influence, always, and neither would it be possible to carry out resource intensive programming. 

In education, there is no other way to do it, than to work with the government and look at ways to integrate  your programme with that of the government. What it needs is shedding the biases and very keenly looking at the government and government systems as allies and joining forces so that the change is not an “intervention” but a longer term strategy to change.

It also needs leaving behind expectation of acknowledgement (which may or may not come)  and a load of patience and the ability to step back at every pitfall and look at the long term vision. 

For quick returns, deal with teacher’s motivation

It has become very easy to be completely dismissive of teacher’s attitudes and training levels — unfortunately, this attitude is endorsed by many mainstream media and non-profit interventions. Among many other non-teaching duties, Government school teachers bear the entire burden of the Indian Census — a humungous door-to-door survey that literally counts each and every citizen of our 1.4 billion-strong country in addition to managing mid-day meal,  being the foot-soldiers for every election, and undergoing training of any and every kind decided by the government. If we want to change the learning outcomes, we need to be respectful and attentive of this professional group , work hand in hand with them, give them the motivation and tools to help them do their work better. Here, technology can play a great role, be it in assessing teacher’s needs, customising solutions for them to learn in their free time and also supporting them by freeing up their time from a lot of assessments and manual entries for every kind of programme they have. The reward and  recognition programmes for them also go a long way in acknowledging their commitment, innovations and skills.

Aim at empowerment, not instructions 

If you look at the 5,816,673* strong teaching workforce only in elementary schools  in India, you will immediately see what I am getting at — in terms of numbers — this is a workforce that can actually turn the tide. Overworked, under-heard and constantly judged, the last thing Government School teachers is another intervention telling them what they should be doing. 

If you actually empathise, you can find and fill the gaps that need filling —for instance, a certain subject matter knowledge, or alternative ways of explain concepts, even creative ways to maintain classroom focus.   

Know what you are doing

Take a deep and learned look at pedagogy to have a clear understanding of what clicks for multi-grade classrooms.  Sampark’s own research with 200,000 teachers in 76,000 schools in 6 states in India  has shown  that the effective use of training and learning materials coupled with instructables, all used in conjunction with additional tools , such as the very innovative “sound box-audio device”  and a learning app on their handhelds can help change the learning levels not only faster, but aimed at longer term change in how we teach in schools and how. Children learn. All interventions boil down to those classrooms. The children have been learning through rote methods, without understanding the concepts. If we can change that basic function, and impact and revolutionise the classrooms and ignite the little minds to explore and learn in the true sense, we would have changed the learning outcomes. 

What does success mean and measuring that : 

   

For a long time, classroom performance , grades have been benchmarks of success. There has to be a change in that. While some children do get the high grades, most children struggle with an examination based assessment. There is need to look at success for every child. Learning outcomes are key to this. In primary grades, they should be focussed to measure children’s ability to explore and understand complex concepts through easy and relatable measures and building up their skills to carry out basic foundational functions with ease and confidence. And as they get to higher grade, the focus has to shift from academic excellence to career focussed learning and having variable exit points for every child based on aptitude, interests, market opportunities and personal mobility and choice.

Learning is serious business, and ed-tech is among the most scalable solutions that can be used to impact learning outcomes , if looked at together with other success factors mentioned. A word of caution though. While technology is a great enabler, it can never replace the teacher. 

The right entrepreneur could well become the visionary , the children in India need.

Originally published here: https://www.entrepreneur.com/article/325836

Grief

One day, i will tell you about grief.

How i keep the doors locked.
And yet leave the window open
so that she has a way
when she wants to creep in.

she and i go a long way,
this grief

she comes in sometimes
with a warning, when
i am ready to meet her
with a bottle of strength
those times, i fight her
but she still has her way

and some times,
she crawls in,
unannounced
she is brutal then
tells me stories i have forgotten
or, want to forget

the dams get broken
and overflow
rippling and spasming

she sits by me
within me
as i get through
the storm
and i let her

then she leaves quietly
in silence mostly

i know she will knock again
like a best friend

A Very Weird Year

Very Weird indeed.

See you all on the other side. Hopefully with more hope, resolve and commitment. The times are a'changin'.

Love and peace.

International Women's Day 2018

It's important to celebrate today.

I, perhaps had one of the best Women's Day of my life today. In an obscure corner of Gurgaon, i met four girls, 15-19 years of age. All of them showstoppers, breaking stereotypes and challenging norms, of every kind, gender, region, religion, education, caste, body shapes and what have you to pursue their dreams of livelihood and independence. They reminded me yet again, why we do, what we do. They also reminded, that we need to do more, and it is not enough.

They reminded me again of the privilege i have, of birth, upbringing, education, caste. They reminded me, i succeed in my life mostly because of the support i have. They will succeed, despite that. They reminded me through their fire why it is important to keep the embers glowing to set up new fires.

On the other side, i also had , like many of you, a bombardment of WhatsApp messages stating how women are blah and bluh and bleh. If we aren't born with it, it isn't a prerogative of women. If women have motherhood, fathers have fatherhood. If men can be ruthless, women can be brutal. The only difference, between men and women, is a biological one. Sorry to break the bubble, but Mary Kom can box the life out of most men. And if Mary Kom can, most women can , yes, with practice. So don't dare say women are soft and kind. Reminds me of one of my first acts of rebel, when one of my school seniors told me women don't have a "jigar". The senior still has some scars from then. Important today for women to question when they do something, is it because they themselves like it or they do it because the world desires them to be a certain way. The lines get blurred along the way of cultural conditioning and normalisation of tacit stereotypes and sometimes it’s difficult to tell the difference. What women want. Yes, important to ask that question.

Which also makes me want to reiterate, that the discourse on gender, cannot be had, without a conversation on men and masculinity. the way women are "desired" to be and the way men are "supposed" to be. This is important because it impacts the way men and women behave with the world and themselves, be it families, societies or work places. Because while women suffer, men suffer too. All men,even the bicep bulging, take-care-of-everyone, never-cry men, are human first, and they too have feelings, that are never acknowledged, and results in violence and abuse, and skewed way of looking at and responding to women. Men who rape women (and men and trans) because it gives them that sense of power. Men who beat women and men , as it springs from their notion of power, control and entitlement. Men , who tell you women are great because they sacrifice and are kind because it validates their manhood. Men who tell you , based on feelings , mind you, not evidence, that women are softer with people at work. Men who tell you, why hire women, when they are emotional and get pregnant or are immoral when divorced and separated - unaware or willfully ignorant that women are more productive at workplaces. Men who sush women and allow men to speak, because they cannot take a viewpoint of a "woman". Men (and women) who tell you not to laugh to loud (like surpanakha? ) . (Where is the difference you say? Ask, how many times have you judged a man for being divorced, fat, thin, loud , etc etc).

There is a reason to celebrate. There is an urgency to respond. Women are here despite of the culture, stereotypes, challenges, hurdles. Now, they have to be equal contributors to change, and there is no way , but to enable them to do it. We need to decide if we want to contribute to it or stand by as they march ahead, because March ahead, they will. So everyone, each of you, the men and women and the others , a happy Women's Day!

I end with one of the tweets that i have loved today and absolutely believe in .

@shailjapatel (Via Twitter)

Read women. Cite women. Credit women. Teach women. Publish women. Present women. Acknowledge women. Award women. Amplify women. Hire women. Support women. Promote women. Hear women. Believe women. Follow women. Pay women. Pay women. Pay women. #IWD2018

PS :

1. the girls i met are from this amazing organisation called navgurukul. check them out at : http://navgurukul.org/

2. the motherhood and fatherhood statement is attributed to my friend and colleague, the feminist man that inspires all of us, Masood Akhtar Shaikh.

3. Shailja Patel is an amazing Kenyan writer, who continues to inspire with her words

Finding Self..

Do you ever find yourself? Is that search ever done?

I don't know. But i have been having this aching need to go on a pilgrimage. The personal kind. In my head , i see myself, packing a backpack, walking barefoot, all alone. Walking the roads to mountains and rivers and seas. Of meeting strangers and getting lost.

For a while at least.

I want to find myself, away from the frameworks and words people want to mould you into. You are "this" and you are "that". A "great" and the "worst". Who decides? What is their paradigm to judge? Just the minutes they spent? A word they hear. A fleeting glimpse they have. Like an optical illusion. Or a mental one.  Someone made me believe that perception is a reality. And i believe it. Just that's it the reality for the one who holds the perception. Not of the one being judged.

If you feel invested enough, work on that perception, build bridges, communicate. But what if you don't care? You don't value that person who holds that perception. While some people are making loud observations about you, and sweeping judgements, you have already mentally shown the person your middle finger and shut the door. Sorry, that's where i am. After the twenty odd psychometrics, i know some things in me are standard, and some things quite at odds and contradictory. Analysis tells me, psychometrics are most times bull. Theories, still to be proven. Generalisations are general and not specific. Each tells you the result with multiple caveats.  And i'm thinking, how can i be so predictable? I need to change. Do something different, something crazy. Maybe fail sometimes. Why do i carry the world like atlas?

Yes, i need my pilgrimage. As Mr Hardy would say, far away from the maddening crowds. 

Never to forget.

How true. And how difficult.

Each of these short sentences is lifetime of work, commitment, practice and persistence. It is so easy not to love. Not to want to be loved anymore. To start feeling too significant in everything. To get used to the violence. To be boggled down by sadness. To be ok with shoddiness. To complicate simple things and vice versa. To confuse power with strength. To look away and not want to understand. And forget things, and moments and people.

Specially the last one. I keep forgetting. I always have. Some times, moments come back in flashes, and i wonder if it is a figment of my imagination, or if it really happened. I wonder why i remember the things i do. How and why certain memories are triggered more often than others. I also wonder on how lucky i am. To have had the privileges and moments i have had. To have had the opportunities of exposure to cultures, geographies, languages, places, people, work and relationships. Things that seemed to be the most difficult growing up, now seem like things that made me who i am.

No, it's not easy to remember. And it's hard not to want to forget.

The last few years have been really difficult, and the one crawling by right now, has been a trial. I have been pushed to a brink and silence at many fronts. Many times, i have questioned my sense of right and wrong. Does this come with growing old, or have i become more introspective than earlier? My ability to not judge has also been tested this year. When earlier, i could let go, this year, i have been a bit irritated , quietly so, and i have wondered why. I have questioned myself if i am right in being ok with someone's lack of initiative, or sensitivity, or just plain complacence. I question my role in creating that. Am i making people around me complacent? Am i not leading them right? Is it really my responsibility to lead? can i just follow. people have called me patient, mellow, quiet, words that i would never associate with myself earlier. Now they have become a part of me? I wonder why, i wonder how? Weird, these flow of words. i digress as usual. Or maybe it relates to love. The ability to love. To accept. To reject. The ability to be loved. Not the need. the ability. Of being. Of just being. As i am. And allowing love to happen. Not fight to be loved.

Which brings me to the violence. The violence that simmers.The violence that erupts. the violence that is building all around. But that is another post. No, i will never get used to that violence. Yes, another post later. the link between disparity, differences and violence. The imbalance that threatens to tip.

Am i complicating the simple? But when is all this simple? Work. personal life, relationships, emotions, processes, chaos.

Yes, in all the action and work, the fights and challenges, sometimes, it is easier to forget. It's easy to want not to remember. And as i look back , i realise many points, when i shouldn't have looked away, i should have put up a fight, when i shouldn't have kept silent. It is important. very important. I want a bit of my feistiness back. Diplomacy is gradually becoming a habit, which maybe  a good thing, but sometimes, i also need my impulsiveness, my anger to just be there. I like the evolution, but i'm not yet ready to let go of that me. So, a reminder, not to ever forget.

And the heart craves to be wet..

One day, i want to live close to water.

As i get older, i have come to realize i have some deep unexplainable relationship with water. I love the sound of water, the feel of water and even just the visuals of water. It triggers something deep within me .  It doesn't matter if it is a river, a sea, rains or even just the shower in the bathroom. I wish there was a word for that feeling, when all your senses are united, that of smell, the visual, the feel and you can sense everything together, in unison.

When you are young, you tend to latch on to whoever you are admiring at that point , to build many of your likes and dislikes, including the seasons. When i was young- winter it was, my "assumed" favorite season.  In the past decade i have realized and now completely accept, nothing makes me happier than monsoons. While in school, when it rained, i would make excuses to dash through the rain. My favorite time of the year was when we played in the rains- running and skidding through the mud, winning,  the last thing on the mind. As i grew up and started working, my fascination with the rains, the first drops probably scandalized people. I would turn it into a ritual of soaking in every bit i could. Get drenched, taste the first rains, inhale deep into my last pores the smell of rains as they hit the parched soil. That smell, oh that smell. The headiness of a drug. So yes, i would get drenched. It started with the excuse of first rains and graduated to awesome rains, to pouring rains and every year the number of times i would show up completely drenched was alarming, but yes, i couldn't resist the pull of monsoons. As i would drive  into the jungles of my beautiful keonjhar, i would roll down the windows and feel the rain. I can't explain it in words, but even if i close my eyes and you put me in a time machine and transport me to a jungle, i would be able to tell you exactly what time of the monsoon it is. The jungles have a distinct smell at every phase, the early, mid and the end of monsoons. The trees- the huge sal trees, Sisu (Rosewood,shisham), kendu(tendu), panasa (Jackfruit), Ammba (Mango), Jamu (Jamun), Arjuna (Arjun), Kusuma ( Bakul, Mimusops elengi), Piasaala (Kino), Gamhari (Gamar), Nageswara (rose chestnut), Gulmohar, palasa (Palash, Flame of forest), simili (Silk Cotton)..they all smell different at different points and it's a different kind of heady. But i digress again.

Yes, rains. The beginning of rains , the flurry of activities when farmers worship the mother earth in Odisha and start start tilling. The standing farms of green as far as your eyes can see..i can probably write a book, just on monsoons... i did not realise when monsoons had over taken my life and when i became entwined with it. When i was  younger , i could keep a pouch of soil in bag and taste it time to time. As that dry soil touched my tongue , it reminded me of rains. My mother would be really worried why i saved soil in different pouches at different places. I would tell her, i am collecting soil. Which was true- from different places, different smells of rain. I used to be fascinated , Still am,  by soil.. the varieties, the way they behave, respond , to seasons, to vegetation. How one type would be suitable for certain plants, how another would not allow it to take root.. my experimentations still continue, in the tiny balconies.

Even when monsoon reaches its peak and people can't wait for the rains to stop, i still continue being fascinated- just staring at the rain, the deep dark green of the plants, the grass and weeds snaking through every bit they can. I think, no other season intrigues, engages and uplifts me like rains.

I probably formally acknowledged my love for the first time when i moved to Mumbai. The sultriness of summer and the rains following close at heels. You just can't stop smiling when rains come in to mumbai, into the roads, the trains, the offices, your house and into your life in large pelting drops. And besides the stinky clothes that never dry, i don't think i have anything to complain.

I know this has become more about the monsoons, but my fascination with water  goes beyond just rains. To rivers and seas. The sound of water flowing, cutting through all barriers and trying again and again, to take the shape given to it and continue creating it's own. The giver of life and life itself.  The tiny little stream at Gonasika turns into this huge baitarani, the few drops at Gangotri turn into the mighty Ganga, across the world, the thousands of streams to the five oceans.. the lakes and the seas.. The sound of the calm river and sea, softly paddling the shores. The angry river and sea in high tide and storm, crashing against the shores- but always moving, always alive.

In activities in workshops, sometimes they ask you, what thing in nature you resemble. I have given this so much thought- and have realized, i am water, a river, taking shape, breaking shape, calm and wild, learning and growing, gathering memories and images - in search still, moving..


Yes, i want to live by water one day. To be alive.