ऐसे पढ़ेगा तो कैसे बढ़ेगा इंडिया?

देश की शिक्षा मंत्री ने देश भर के शिक्षकों को एक चिट्ठी भेजी, चिट्ठी थी तो शिक्षकों को उनके योगदान के लिए शुक्रिया कहने के लिए लेकिन चर्चा में आई स्पेलिंग की गलतियों के कारण । चिट्ठी में स्मृति का नाम समेत कई और शब्दों की स्पेलिंग गलत थी । कितनी शर्मनाक बात है कि शिक्षा मंत्रालय की लिखी चिट्ठी में गलतियां निकलती हैं। स्मृति ने ये पता लगाने को कहा है कि आखिर इस गलती का जिम्मेदार कौन है, लेकिन क्या केवल एक शख्स या कुछ लोगों के कारण ही ये गलती हुई? शायद नहीं।

करीब दो महीने पहले राजस्थान के एक गांव के स्कूल में जाने का मौका मिला । खेतड़ी के खड़कड़ा का ये स्कूल किसी भी आम सरकारी स्कूल की तरह ही लगा, 3-4 कमरों में चल रहे स्कूल में ना बैठने की सही व्यवस्था है और ना ही क्लासरूम में रोशनी की । लेकिन  मेरा ध्यान खींचा यहां की दीवारों पर लिखे शब्दों ने ।

जरा स्कूल की इस मेन गेट पर नजर डालिए, यहां से आप प्रवेश नहीं ‘प्रवश’ करते हैं।

इसी ‘प्रवश द्वार’ की बाईं तरफ एक और पोस्टर  पेंट किया गया है,पोस्टर में परिधि, बेचना और कानूनन की स्पेलिंग गलत है।

‘प्रवश द्वार’ की दूसरी तरफ ‘शपथ’ नहीं किसी ‘शपत’ पत्र की जानकारी है जिसकी व्यवस्था को समाप्त कर ‘दीय’ है।

एक और सरकारी पोस्टर कहता है कि “यहां पत्र प्राप्त किए जाकर प्राप्ति रसीद दी जाती है”।

ये दलील दी जा सकती है कि ये सरकारी विज्ञापन हैं और इनका स्कूल के पाठ्यक्रम से कोई लेना देना नहीं है।अगर आप ये सोच रहे हैं कि ये गलतियां स्कूल की दीवारों पर किसी अशिक्षित पेंटर से हो गई होंगी और इसपर ध्यान नहीं देना चाहिए, तो आप गलत हैं, ये गलतियां उनसे भी हुई हैं जो स्कूल में पढ़ते या पढ़ाते हैं।

स्कूल के अंदर कक्षा प्रतिनिधि और कप्तान- उप कप्तान की जिम्मेदारियों के नोटिस लगे हैं। ये नोटिस किसी शिक्षक या छात्र ने ही लिखे होंगे, किसी अशिक्षित पेंटर ने नहीं। दोनों ही नोटिसों में प्रतिनिधि को ‘प्रतिनिधी’ लिखा गया है।

कप्तान-उपकप्तान की जिम्मेदारियों वाले नोटिस में ‘तय’ करेंगे को ‘तैय’ करेंगे लिखा गया है, कुछ वाक्य भी गलत तरीके से लिखे गए हैं। 

लेकिन क्या पूरे स्कूल में किसी ने इन गलतियों को नहीं देखा? और अगर देखा है तो फिर सही करने की कोशिश क्यों नहीं की गई या फिर कहीं ऐसा तो नहीं कि जो लिखा है वो स्कूल में पढ़ने-पढ़ाने वालों के लिए गलत ही नहीं है? कहीं स्कूल के बच्चे इन गलतियों को सही समझ कर तो नहीं पढ़ रहे हैं?  

क्या बच्चे सिर्फ किताबों से ही सीखते हैं?, क्या स्कूल परिसर में लिखी गई दूसरी चीजें जिन्हें वो दिनभर में कई बार देखते हैं, उनका असर नहीं होता?  गलती किसी से भी, कहीं भी हो सकती है, हो सकता है कि इस लेख में ही मुझसे कई गलतियां हो गई होंगी, लेकिन क्या ये जरूरी नहीं है कि इन गलतियों को नजरअंदाज करने के बजाय इन्हें सुधारने की सलाह दी जाए,  एक स्कूल परिसर में तो ये जरूर होना चाहिए ।

हमारी गलतियों को नजरअंदाज करने की प्रवृत्ति ही कई बार हमें शर्मसार कर देती हैं, स्मृति की चिट्ठी की गलतियां भी शायद इसी का नतीजा है ।

इस बात में तो दो राय नहीं है कि ‘पढ़ेगा इंडिया तभी तो बढ़ेगा इंडिया’। लेकिन सवाल ये उठता है कि  ‘यही पढ़ेगा और ऐसे ही पढ़ेगा तो कैसे बढ़ेगा इंडिया?’

If Ram can be worshipped, why can’t Radhe???

(Disclaimer: The writer is neither a disciple of any priest, nor is a hard core God lover, the arguments are based on simple logics ,if any of you feel that logical arguments can hurt your sentiments and beliefs, you should close this page right now.)  

What is Faith?  According to Google it is a“strong belief in the doctrine of religion, based on spiritual conviction rather than proof. Since Google is the most trusted feature of the internet world, so going by its definition, it would not be wrong to say that faith can never be associated with logic. It is this faith that makes us worship an idol, a river, a mountain or even a tree.

Your prayers offered to your God be it Rama, Allah or Christ is purely based on faith rather than any logic or proof. We (I mean most of us excluding those you raise questions about anything and everything) hardly tend to question as to what is the logic behind the beliefs in these different kinds of Gods. Then why have we suddenly started questioning the belief of thousands of followers of self proclaimed goddess ‘Radhe Ma’? Why are we eager to find logic behind this faith.

The media houses, that have branded her as a fraud making money in the name of God, are themselves running sponsored shows based on religion and astrology. If the news channels can make money in the name of ‘Shivling darshan’, why can’t an individual do the same in the name of his/her own Darshan? If people are ready to pay for it, why should we raise questions, it’s their hard earned money, let them spend the way they want. And why should questions be raised only about these living self proclaimed Godmen?  Why not about Shirdi’s Sai Baba or Mumbai’s SidhiVinayak?What is the logic behind throwing money at lifeless idols?

The pictures of Radhe in a miniskirt has also raged controversies, some argue that this is not acceptable in the Hindu society, going by this logic, the Naga Sadhus and the Jain saints should have been banned long ago. If her followers do not have any problem, why are the others doing moral policing? 

A Baba was telling his follower to change his underwear, as the one he wore had a hole in it which acted as a hindrance in his success. What may sound like a hilarious joke to many can be a treated as a serious stuff by many other. This is what faith is all about.If  any ‘Baba’ or ‘Maa’ has done any thing wrong, it would be proven in the court of law, he/she would be punished for the same, and then the followers will decide if they want to stick to the same God or find a new one. But a trial outside the court especially by the media can not be justified.

In the name of faith and religion we have fought and killed each other for decades, we have tainted our own Allah and Ram but we but we still have faith in them, we still worship them. In the name blind faith and belief, if that Allah can be worshipped, that Ram can be worshipped, then why can’t this ‘Radhe’?

Where cloth weavers weave success

“I always felt that if the boys of this village can do it, why can’t I?” says Deepa, one of the 18 students and the only girl of the Patwatoli village of Gaya in Bihar, who cracked the JEE advanced exam and secured a seat in the most prestigious engineering college of the country, IIT.

As Deepa narrates the story of her success, it is evident that although she is elated with what she has achieved, this success has not come to her as a surprise. It seems as if she always knew that this moment was destined to come. In the year 1991, Jitendra was the first student from this village of cloth weavers, who made it to the prestigious institution. The number then grew to three in 1998 and the village has not looked back since then.

While lakhs of students across the country spend huge amount of money every year for the preparations of such exams and still fail to survive in the cut-throat competition, what is so special about this village that despite of lack of basic resources and amenities, the students have been creating history year after year?

The village Patwatoli, as the name suggests is a village of Patwas, a cast known for weaving clothes since ages. “Our forefathers used to weave clothes with hands, and then we shifted to these big machines” says a mill owner pointing to the half rusted machines of his mill. “But the lack of electricity, lack of new technology and increasing competition in the market worsened our condition”, he explains.
 
It was the idea of giving good education to the children that came as a savior for the patwas. Parents started encouraging their children to study and their children didn’t disappoint them.

But amidst all these glories, the one thing that the successful students have always nurtured is the basic idea of weaving. Those who cracked the exams and landed up in good institutions and highly paid jobs did not leave their village for a lavish life. They still come back every year to teach the other aspirants. Together they have weaved a pool of bright, successful and intellectual people who have made each and every person of this village proud. The 18 students selected this year are also eager to take this legacy forward.

This has happened for more than a decade in this area, so what’s new this year? Ask anyone around in the village and they’ll proudly say “It’s a girl this time”.

 

The man not in books

Roaming around at the World book fair, it seemed as if the whole world, with all the possible pros and cons of the past, present and future has accumulated at this place.  Perhaps this is the only place in the world where Gandhi and Bhagat are seen next to each other. Or the only site where you can find both left and right occupying the center.

You might be known for your good or bad deeds but if you are a part of history, you are here in some or the other page of these millions of books.

After wandering around the endless collection of the books spread across many halls of Pragati Maidan, I was tired enough to stroll any further. A loud but soothing classical tune was constantly going on in the background., May be someone was performing a folk/ classical dance .I walked towards the open theatre of the ground, from where the music was coming, not to enjoy the classical dance but to give rest to my aching feet.

The enthusiasm of the audience there was unlike the previous similar shows I had seen.  But when I stepped up the six giant stairs and looked at the center stage, I felt that the show was actually not similar to anything I had seen before.

There was a man with earthen pots (matkas) placed on his head, not one but 6 of them. Carrying the entire load, he danced with such ease that not many can dance even with a hat on their heads.

He did all the moves graciously, then he danced on two swords and then on broken pieces of glass. And while doing all this he sported a smile as if nothing underneath his feet was hurting .

The entire crowd stood up in his respect, all one could hear was applause and whistles.

The man didn't need to speak anything. His dance had said it all. But he spoke. He spoke to make us realize that for the last 27 years, he is the only one in the city carrying the burden of this art on his shoulders.

One could easily feel the pain in his voice as he mentioned the term “dying art”. The man will celebrate his golden jublie next year. But there were hardly any traces of joy in his voice or on his

face as he mentioned this. It seemed he didn't want to grow old because he knew that with him will die his 'dying art'.

I entered the show late, so I didn't know his name, I asked some other people sitting around, they also had forgotten the name announced in the beginning, even the anchor did not repeat his name. It seemed as if his dance had overshadowed his all personal identities.

I could have taken the trouble of searching for a catalogue to find his name, or could have tracked the events website. But I didn't do any thing of that sort because I knew that although his was a historic art, this man would never be remembered in history.

The present that gets written in the books, becomes history and amongst the millions showcased at the venue, this man was not in those books.

The Smiley without a smile

Walking through the streets of the Delhi University campus is always a great experience. Away from the workload, the chaos of the office, you can sense the energy that you seem to have lost the moment you came into the professional world. While I was enjoying some street food on the roads of Kamla Nagar,I felt as if  someone was pulling my woolen jacket from below. I am precisely mentioning the term woolen here to emphasize on the fact that it was a cold day, a chilling cold day!

I annoyingly looked down to see who was not letting me enjoy my delight. There was a small girl, must be 9-10 years of age, shivering in cold without adequate clothes to cover her entire body. Someone would have donated a coat to her which she not only used to cover her body but also pulled it up to save her head from the cold wind.

I thought she was hungry. I offered her some food. But she was least interested in that. All she wanted was to sell the products she was carrying. The girl did not have any smile on her face, but she was selling smilies. Some in form of stickers, some in form of batches and others attached with pencils. 10 rupees was the cost of each.

The north campus of Delhi University is an area where some of the brightest students of India reside. Every year lakhs of students face the battle of scoring the highest in their board exams and those who win get rewarded with a chance to study in some of the best colleges of the country, situated in this part of Delhi. The university campus is not only the place for the brightest minds of the country but also has a pool of the most promising politicians of the future. And amidst the crowd of those intellectual and bright minds and promising politicians was this small, innocent poor girl. I wonder if not a single one of those privileged ever thought about doing any good to this not so privileged child.

Thinking about all these, I walked ahead. The street was cluttered with posters of student wings of different political parties. Some promised a better syllabus structure for the students, some promised a safer place for women, some other wished a Happy Republic Day.

There was a stark contradiction between the writings on the wall and the reality on the street. Like the small girl, there were many other children selling different stuffs on the street but I spotted a special boy amongst them. I call him special because he had a tray in his hand carrying tea. Yes, he was a chaiwala. Chiawla is undoubtedly one of the most discussed terms of the political scenario of this country. I took out my mobile phone to take his snap, but he realized it and ran away. I could only capture a hazy picture of his. Just hours ago, I had heard the US president talking about Chai pe charcha, the meeting he had with the self proclaimed and most reputed chaiwala of this country, our honourable Prime Minister.

I wondered, “Can that PM chiawala turn the world around for this chotu chaiwaal?”

Suddenly an update from a popular news paper application popped up on my mobile phone. It stated: “The suit that PM Modi wore during his meeting with president Obama had his name inscribed on it in minute letters. The cost of the suit is estimated to be around 8 lakhs”

Was this the answer to my question?

And they marched.....

Light is all you can see in the above picture. The light is not merely of the burning candles in their hands, but also of hope - for justice, of anger – against atrocities and of faith – in the system.

Some of them must have had their exams, their tuition classes. Some must have had a fear about any mishappening . Some of their parents must have warned them not to participate in the event. But fighting all the unavoidable situations, they marched and marched like never before.

Yes there was rage in the minds of these students, but they belong to the land of Buddha, and they stood by his principles. Not a single person agitated.

“Justice For Akash” was what they demanded. But this march was not only for that one medical student. This was for all those who died without their voices being heard.

And this is just the beginning, there’s a lot to be done.

In the words of Dushyant Kumar-

सिर्फ हंगामा खड़ा करना मेरा मकसद नहीं

मेरी कोशिश है कि ये सूरत बदलनी चाहिए।

मेरे सीने में नहीं तो तेरे सीने में सही

हो कहीं भी आग लेकिन आग जलनी चाहिए।

                                

Delhi awaits another movement……

A Nazarite Dead: Not just news

Amidst the chaotic situation in the news room,came the news. ‘A boy found dead at railway tracks in West Bengal after allegedly being ragged’. I heard it and like any other news item I did my best to ignore it. I thought someone else was assigned to work on it, so why should I bother. Two days had passed since then that yesterday I noticed on the Nazareth alumni page that the boy who died actually belonged to my school, Nazareth Academy. The biggest draw back of being a journalist is that things like death, rape and murder hardly evoke your inner consciousness. Every crime, every inhuman activity, every death is nothing but merely news for people like me.

I have been active on this blog for around two years now. And every time I write a new article, I make sure that what I write is NOT something news worthy. This might be the first article on this blog that relates to an event that has been reported widely in all the news papers and television channels. I still decided to take up this issue. Because today I realize that every death is not just news, that death of a Nazarite is not just another news item for me .

Aakash Agarwal passed out from Nazareth Academy in 2011, a year after I left the place. I tried hard to recall who he was, but I failed. I don’t know if I ever met this guy. He must have been someone competing with me in a debate or writing competition. Or he must have been someone encouraging me from the audience while I was on the stage. Or may be someone for whom I clapped during a football or a Kabaddi match.

May be Aakash was not one of the above mentioned.  But his death has still managed to evoke me because there was certainly a time that we shared the same campus, ate our lunch at the same time, in the same field. There was certainly a time that we prayed together in the morning.

After studying in an institution like Nazareth, it is sometimes difficult to realize the true nature of the world around. The place taught us to respect our seniors and at the same time taught the seniors to behave with the juniors. The idea of ragging or being ragged hardly comes in the minds of the students of this great institution.

Was it the sudden change in the kind of people around Aakash, whom he found difficult to tackle, forced him to give up his life?

My mind is not ready to accept this. My school was not as harsh as the real world but at the same time my school taught the students to face the challenges of life. Nazareth Academy taught us to fight for the right. And more than any thing else Nazareth taught us to believe in God and have faith that in the worst of the situations, the Almighty will lend a helping hand.

Whether he was murdered or not is a subject of investigation. But a Nazarite gave up his life and surrendered in front of the wrong, as an alumnus of the prestigious institution, I find it difficult to believe. 

Rest in peace Aakash Agarwal. I still have faith in the police and judicial institutions of this country. May you get justice soon. And may your sacrifice be a lesson for all other students.