STROKES TO STEPS

Caught within counterchecking bills of an event and dips in ‘cinema verite’ for my students, my Friday was a nightmare. It finished with chapter 9 of class v – revision. When I went to bed …the only question that lurked was ‘one day of life gone mundane’….but the Saturday has made up for it.

A visit to my favourite artist’s solo exhibition and a small tete-a- tete with kathak in the evening was the flavour of my cake for the day. The icing on the cake though remains my cubs. The ferocious little tigress was with me loving the colours of what she will later know when she grows up to be TRUE REFLECTIONS OF THE SELF- A-R-T . The teddy cub was chiselling his perception of Rabindro Sangeet and Jatra. What needs mention is that tigress never skips Tagore. She noticed his image on one of the display paintings at the gallery and she came running “…mamma…they have tagore.” Little girl knows mama is smitten by that name, those thoughts and that humungous vision.

I have just taken a few steps into knowing the great ‘Gurudev’. Will remove the word ‘great’ because at a seminar recently, an admirer mentioned correctly- “ don’t add the adjectives, it makes the seekers pull away. Pre-designated greatness have made many refrain from any self discovery whether it is the Mahatma or  Gurudev.” I found the words profound.

My journey may have begun late but is well rooted in my desire to self discover each day along with the arduous task of earning bread, remaining the ‘social animal’ and above all guiding young minds as a Teacher. For those who would like to take a dip , they should listen to

“ Bhalo beshe sokhi nivrito jotone …….” …….entirely a new dimension.

ভালোবেসে, সখী, নিভৃতে যতনে
আমার নামটি লিখো-তোমার
মনের মন্দিরে।
আমার পরানে যে গান বাজিছে
তাহার তালটি শিখো-তোমার
চরণমঞ্জীরে।।
ধরিয়া রাখিয়ো সোহাগে আদরে
আমার মুখর পাখি – তোমার
প্রাসাদপ্রাঙ্গণে।
মনে ক’রে সখী, বাঁধিয়া রাখিয়ো
আমার হাতের রাখী – তোমার
কনককঙ্কণে।।
আমার লতার একটি মুকুল
ভুলিয়া তুলিয়া রেখো – তোমার
অলকবন্ধনে।
আমার স্মরণ-শুভ-সিন্দুরে
একটি বিন্দু এঁকো-তোমার
ললাটচন্দনে।
আমার মনের মোহের মাধুরী
মাখিয়া রাখিয়া দিয়ো-তোমার
অঙ্গসৌরভে।
আমার আকুল জীবনমরণ
টুটিয়া লুটিয়া নিয়ো-তোমার
অতুল গৌরবে।।

There is a reference in the same to know the taal of mine for you to know me. I find that segment particularly fascinating. Everyone has that taal, and some are so betaal.

It is Teachers day, and hoards have decided to wish me as their teacher, as someone who has influenced their lives in some way. Most don’t know my ‘taal’.

The messages are part of the bulk mail culture. The only identity that a student would know of me is that I am not bulk ( weight excluded in context). The only ‘taal’ that I follow is to have an individualism amongst the cattle, to stand on your reasoning created by years of observation, humility and a learners habit. To not think that anyone can give you a crash course on life or a diet pill to stay fit.

Mass messages reek of a ritual that needs to be implemented like a task at work. They portray the lack of individual attention or singular reverence to a particular ability of a teacher that has inspired us. All teachers do remain human and mortal at the end of the day.

Those who know me would know that I would answer those singular stand alone messages that contain content and context and are not sent for the sake of being said or sent.

The greatest teachers in the real sense are we to ourselves. An ability of introspection that slowly is being lost. Everyone is on the run and the beauty of the individuality of a message is completely washed away. Dhanya ho Facebook!