Too Good Days

Memory of two good days we spent together after half a century

Great Expectations

Forty five years melted away from the minds and hearts of all of us. We longed to be together again, with the rich memory of a variety of experience bubbling up in expectation. Ours was the first batch of Five Year engineering program and the maiden batch of first year students to enter the new Kulathur Campus on the outskirts of Trivandrum in 1961. We suffered through the Chinese war of 1962 and the Pakistan war of ’65 before we left the college in ‘66. We went through many trials and tribulations, recessions and retrenchments after the war, and widespread unemployment that followed. But nothing mattered now. We have all done the best with our lives, and most are happy grandparents. Our classmates came from across the Atlantic just to relive the exciting memory of togetherness. Nevertheless I couldn’t fathom what was in store for us on 22^nd September 2011 in Poovar Island Resort.

In the beginning..

Our leaders Kurup and Co. had asked us to assemble in the Institution of Engineers premises and we (Nirmala and me) reached there well in time. The few guys who waited there faced me with a quiz. “Tell me who I am”. It was almost a cakewalk for me. Then a slim gentleman stepped forward (as he did in the NCC many years ago) and put across the query, adding that no one so far identified him. He may have changed completely, with a bald head as smooth as a baby’s bottom, but “Pattalam” George Thomas was unmistakable in his gait and speech. His challenge was squarely met and I beat him hollow. He couldn’t believe it, and you could knock him down with a feather. He wanted to know the magic of my memory and I said, elementary my dear Watson, I have been teaching all these years.

Saviours of mankind

A similar challenge was thrown to me by a stout Achayan from Pala, whom Kartha introduced as Raman Nair. Sitting two seats behind him in the bus I did a quick rewinding and scanning of my memory disk and shouted that he was Tommy, (Joseph Thomas). That wasn’t a bad performance either. Similar competitions were going on in the bus, but reports did not reach me. And then ….Enter Sundaram Reddiar. But for the efforts of Reddiar, India’s population would have crossed two billion by now. It didn’t, thanks to the millions of condoms he produced during his fertile professional career. Another great savior of Mankind was AK Mathew who produced pesticides and saved the crops in the country, multiplying agricultural production by leaps and bounds!!

Transformations and Identity problems

The easiest person to identify was Rajagopal (Potti). He carried a brief case instead of a slide rule and note books and his hair had gone grey. Otherwise he looked as though he was just about to board the college bus. Thin Thoma (KN Thomas) and Kunjappan do not change; they were always like this and will continue to be. Esther Varghese(now Ninan) was the only one of her kind in Mehanical branch, the very first lady Mechanical engineer of Kerala, eligible for entry to Guinness Book. KNC Kurup, (our leader) who had grey hair in first year has a surprising sheet of black hair now, to cover up his baldness (Godrej hair dye sells in barrels now!!) Thankappan Nair (NT Nair now) wore a sparse and almost white beard to match his philosophical thoughts and actions. Thick Thoma (KC Thomas) revealed his identity with his sweet smile. (Never mind he forgot how many kids he had). Ayyappan, the frail little boy who wore shirts too loose for him has the look of a business tycoon (I am told he is one, now) with a substantial bulk and a paunch to match. DV Ravi continues to be the most handsome guy and I could see the women folk still talking about him in hushed up whispers. As he refuses to remove his cap no one knows what lies beneath. Alas! the most handsome guy has gone bald too. Valsa Koshy(now Kuruvilla) smiled and introduced herself and her spouse. Rachel Mathew said she didn’t have to change her surname after marriage. That is lucky, isn’t it? Muralee Mohan Lal was quite shy and preferred to keep aloof except when he had to attend to organizational matters of the program. AK Janardanan narrated the agony of finding a job in the early years after graduation, but all is well that ends well. K A Sreedharan was perhaps the one who enjoyed real professional satisfaction doing a hard core Mechanical engineer's job inspecting factories and boilers and retiring as the Chief of the department. He promptly showed me his displaced thumb when I enquired about it. Murukesan’s thin black beard made him look far younger than he was, and his nickname “Pulse” resurfaced during the conversation. Rashid did not get enough time to narrate his exploits as all ex-service men do. He didn’t tell us how many Pakistani F-16s he shot down in dog fights during the ‘71 war. Madhusoodanan Nair made a brief appearance for a few minutes and vanished into thin air. He did not enlighten us on how he traversed the great circles around the globe over North and South poles, as flight engineer of Air India.

Losses on the way

Our leader Kurup wanted everyone to stand in silence in memory of those who left us during the journey. George Jacob Samuel left in final year itself (on Sept 13, 1965) and his bones are interred in the CSI Church opposite Public Library. Pramod died on the day our final year results came out, but Roy Varghese Paul lived long enough to make a mark in the profession. Pattalam gave a graphic description of Roy’s single minded devotion to duty and how he moved a train to its destination when the drivers struck work in the railways. Sure, he did us proud. Another person who left us was Padmanabhan (EE) whom we used to call Geometry Swamy in first year due to his uncanny knack of solving most difficult problems in Solid Geometry. One day I invited him to sit by my side waiting for KSRTC bus at the AIR Broadcasting station. I drew a ceremonial triangle and inscribed a circle as his seat to honour his skills in geometry. A perfect gentleman of mild disposition, Swamy never showed anger or annoyance at such mild teasing by lesser mortals like me. May his soul be exalted in his heavenly abode. Eugine George of EE passed away in 2006 due to a heart attack. I distinctly remember him. Tall, dark and hefty, he had an identical twin brother in the junior class. As he was good in maths, Prof. Nagappan Nair was fond of him and used to ask him jokingly, "Are you, you or your brother?". Sudhakaran (EE) (son of Prof. Bhaskaran Nair, University College) died around 1996 in the US where he had migrated after graduation. I am told he too died of heart attack.

Celebrities of our batch

Dr. G Madhavan Nair(EE) who launched many rockets and sent a space vehicle to the moon did not attend this program, although he expressed his desire to participate when I met him in Coimbatore. One of the organizers heaved a sigh of relief. Much as he would wish our celebrity member attended, an intolerable contingent of killjoys in the form of cops and black cats wielding AK-7 would infest the place and make life miserable for others. We may not get our old friend Madhavan Nair whom we could treat like the rest.

Despite the intimidating designation such as the Vice Admiral of Indian Navy Leslie Lowe was the same old smiling, affable character who had the time and mind to mix with the crowd. He did not narrate his exploits in the submarine but stuck to mundane things like family and grandchildren. We had lunch and dinner on the same table, and I admired his amazing dexterity with the knife and fork. As for me, I tend to hold them on the wrong hand (A punishable offence by British standards), and never find them good enough to attack a deep-fried piece of chicken. During the conversation he hopefully did not notice that I had given up the eating tools in preference to my god given fingers. Even otherwise I have the feeling that eating with knife and fork is like making love through an interpreter. I have tried several eating tools including chop-sticks with similar success story. I am told that the real hard core Chinese can even drink water with chop-sticks (Don’t quote me)

Remote participation

Thiruvenkitachary (EE) was acting as the medium through which TS Krishnakumar(EE) attended the function in absentia from USA.(Remember Dhritharashtra during the Great War of mahabharatha) Through Achary and me, he got a “ball-by ball” description of the happenings on both the days. He was one person with a great deal of enthusiasm for the event. Poor fellow was trapped in the US, only to return after a fortnight. In Bombay where he lives, he keeps our final year magazine on his table, opens the photo page and circles the face of the guy he meets. There were many circles on our class photo even way back in ‘97. Chacko Chandi, Joyce John and George Philip (Kochu Philip) are the other enthusiastic guys on the other side of the pond.

Self Introductions

By way of self introduction, almost everyone said he or she belonged to 1961-66 batch. Why this redundant statement? After all, we are met here to reminisce our good old days!!(To those who are irked by ‘we are met’: This is not wrong grammar, Abe Lincoln used it in his Gettysberg speech and there is a rule of grammar ‘Mahad-vachanat sadhu’ meaning what great people say is always right). I tried to demur this repetition, but desisted as good counsel prevailed when U.Mani dissuaded me with his “Chumma Iriyeda”. My wife was keen on knowing what Mani’s initial U stood for. I said its expansion was “Unique”. All of us have our doubles living in various spots on the globe. (Read Saramago’s novel “The Double”) But U.Mani doesn’t have any; he is unique, God did not create another specimen like him.

Sense of Belonging

Later I realized that U. Mani was right. There were a couple of guys who, admittedly did not exactly belong to 61-66 batch. Swaminathan PE joined our batch, left midway and graduated later. He said he was more attached to us than any other he sat with. N. Bhaskaran(Bhasi), the industrialist started his engineering with our seniors, and finished with a junior batch, sitting with us briefly during his long journey though the mighty rivers of Knowledge. He took a little more time than the rest of us because he was not excited by Fourier Series and Laplace Transforms and found his strength in Industrial production. Bhasi proved that academic excellence was but a minor gift when it came to success in life. Bhasi’s wife was adjudged the best dressed person in the crowd. Obviously, other women could not express their jealousy, but I noticed some of them pursing their lips and looking daggers at Kartha when he announced it. Of course, Kartha couldn’t care less. Moreover, how would he know? He never looks at women.

Of Farmers and Saints

An exemplary classmate was Sundaresan, who after retiring as Deputy Chief Engineer chose to go back to his roots; literally to the roots. He is living a farmer’s life caring for the roots of his plants, enjoying the growth of new green shoots every morning, breathing the intoxicating fresh air and listening to the Music of Nature in sun and in shower. This is a saintly life, one we all yearn to live, postpone it to a later date, and end up on the eighteenth floor of a city flat, the final tragedy of modern life. Next to saints, of course are teachers. PV Antony (Poovan , his initial, brings back alternating memories of a kind of banana and a loud rooster) made it clear that teachers were a rarity in our batch, with just the three of us opting for the selfless saintly life: Prasanna Kumari (now Panicker) and MPC besides Poovan himself. There is one more in the US: Kochu Philip (Dr. George Chalumthalakkal in Wisconsin). That makes four of us eligible for sainthood.

Stop Press

Many days after uploading this blog our Abraham John (Now he is John Abraham, topsy-turvy like most of the guys going to USA prefer to turn) claimed sainthood for a few more guys, subject to verification, of course. They are Gisuthan (ME), PV John and Unnnikrishna Menon, both EE. Gisuthan's case is straightforward, as he has also a miracle to his credit, the miracle of being a pet student of N Padmanabha Iyer. The other two will remain in the Purgatory for the time being awaiting details or miracles in their favour.

You Too Brutus!!

I was always under the impression that I was a pretty important guy known to everyone, having won the election against our arch enemies of T3 for Vice President of the Mechanical Engineering Association. My bloated ego suffered a jolt when a few guys told me they recollected neither my handsome countenance nor my illustrious name associated with yeomen service to the society. The “most unkindest cut of all” came when Sivamony Moorthy, ordained by Pattalam George Thomas as the youngest looking member of the batch said he didn’t know me at all. My deflated ego cried from inside: “You too Brutus”!!!. Although we never moved very close in the college, Sivamony was a frequent subject of Ayyappan's conversations-frequent enough to excite my memory chord. I still remember this was the guy who married in third year without inviting any of us for the function. Excuse me for my French: J’accuse..”He refused to share any of his rich experience with his classmates and we had to listen to the civil guy Venu who had a similar misadventure too early in life. He left us high and dry without caring to quench our thirst for knowledge.”. (By an inductive logic I concluded that old men looking young are prone to selective amnesia, particularly if they marry too early) Murukesh Babu and his wife were dashingly young and handsome, looking like in their early fifties. Luckily he had no amnesia and was kind enough to extricate me and Nirmala from a near crisis, by dropping us in his plush sedan at TTC on the return trip from Poovar.

A Personal Fiasco

We (Nirmala and me) had a small fiasco. I had read all of Kurup’s mails, but in the same way as I read my students' answer books. Obviously I didn’t get the program right, and thought we would return after the first day and assemble again next day. Result, we both did not carry even a toothbrush to Poovar. Away from everywhere and inundated by the surrounding rivers and the Arabian Sea, there was no way to buy anything. I consoled my wife that even elephants do not brush their teeth and why are you so touchy about it. She got convinced, but if she appears in the same sari next day what would others think? They would think you have only one sari. No I should show them one more. During our state of distress NT Nair came to our rescue and arranged with Murukesh Babu to give us the much needed lift back home. Then we came back to TTC, brushed, bathed and well kempt, ready for the day.

Maitre de Revels

Lunch at the resort was good, so was the accommodation. But in the afternoon our bosses herded us, the sleepy unwilling Lotus Eaters, (remember Tenyson) back to the meeting hall and left us at the mercy of Unnikrishna Kartha. His performance as Maitre de Revels (You should excuse my bad habit of using French words now and then. This habit started ever since I did my PUC with French as second language. This one simply means Master of Ceremonies). Kartha was flamboyant, boisterous, noisy, undemocratic, autocratic, despotic, dictatorial, partial, nepotic (You are at liberty to add more adjectives) and grossly unfair as a quiz master. Rampant favouritism was the hallmark of his decisions. During the quiz program he declared two star performers U.Mani and MPC as rebels just to suppress freedom of expression and to pave the way for his atrocious actions. His PJ’s (Poor Jokes) often became complex (P+iJ) where the joke part was imaginary. (warning: those who slept in Prof. Richard’s classes on complex variables will find it difficult to grasp even this PJ of mine)

Anticipatory Bail

A classic, interesting performance was by Jogan Easaw Mathew who appeared with his wife and a guitar just as big. His dome (hairless and smooth as a boiled egg) reflected the multiple lights of the hall in random directions and gave a tough time to photographers like me. He sang a couple of “Numbers” (singers usually prefer to sing numbers instead of songs) and a last one “Ayyappante Amma Neyyappam Chuttu”, of course in a Western Tune. Luckily Jogan had taken an anticipatory bail from our Ayyappan before performing this “Number”. Earlier in the day an unguarded remark by an innocent member had offended another and the latter, fully charged with emotion and eyes welling up with tears, denounced the former in public. Jogan did well to take his anticipatory bail. You never know when a thunderstorm could break loose.

Discovery of a Singer

Kartha’s histrionics reached its crescendo when he launched his “Anthakshari” between the teams of men and women. When the women’s team led by Nirmala, ably assisted by a chorus (whose names escape my memory) started gaining upper hand the hidden talents of the batch burst out in the form of MPC. His voice boomed in the hall as though Mohamed Rafi, Mukesh, Manna Dey Kishore Kumar and others had suddenly appeared in person. Then the men’s team had an answer for every challenge from the other side. A thorough Brahmachari during student days, Kartha has of late, become partial to women, unfairly assisting them and brushing aside the superior performance of the Men’s team. As a coping stone on his misdeeds he awarded a “Draw” as the final result. I wondered why Subramanya Sarma (His Highness or Tallness?) did not open his mouth. He remained silent like a ranging rod. In fact he was the person who taught me Rafi’s famous “There ghar ke samne”. People like Thin Thoma were flabbergasted by the classy performance of MPC and asked me why I did not take to singing as a career option. I modestly replied that Yesudas, the most promising Malayalam singer had just begun his career and I should not have spoiled his chances. After all, I had another profession to lean on to.

Guru Devo Bhava:

Imagine meeting Prof. MP Mathew on the way and greeting him with a slap on his back, “Hi, Mathayichan, Howdi, buddy?”. The new generation of students with the present value system may have no qualms about it. But our generation would feel a shock wave passing through our internal organs at the thought of this event. This is because the Indian psyche has internalized the feeling of respect to Guru and this dictum does not remain just a statement in the Vedas. We all wanted to meet our teachers and pay our respects to them. The small function was on the first floor hall of TTC where six of our teachers were present. Dr. R. Ravikumar and Prof. I. Richard came single, while Dr. KPP. Pillai-Varadakumari couple and Dr. Murali-Gomathi couple came in pairs. Professor Richard, despite his endearing charisma appeared aging and was a little hard of hearing. The other five of our teachers were bubbling with energy. I felt our age gap was slowly closing. They did not speak much, but their expression was worth a million words!! After a brief round of self introduction we stood for a group photo in the lawn a few minutes before lunch. Sitting on the floor, at the feet of our teachers was a great privilege for some of us, the privilege of disciples during the period of the Upanishads.

Au Revoir

All good things come to an end, and sure this one did too. But we have resolved to make it more frequent, at least once in two years. But who will bell the cat? That is a trivial, irrelevant and irreverent question. We have our backbone, KN. Chandrasekhara Kurup. On a more serious note, the function would have been drab and lifeless without Kartha. So, gentlemen and ladies we part for now, reposing our confidence in Kuruppachan and his able team to meet again soon with more participants, families and fanfare. God's own country is waiting for you. Au Revoir.

Tourism Promotion: Kerala Style

Munnar is perhaps the most sought after place for a holiday in Kerala. Located at an altitude of about 6000ft from mean sea level, the climate of the mountains attracted British planters more than a century ago, who destroyed the pristine tropical forests to convert them into vast expanses of tea estates. Except for some pockets of settlement, most of Munnar is presently owned by the giant Tata Tea that occasionally changes its name to Kanan Devan Hill Produces Ltd.. Besides KDHP there are a few minor estates too. Privately owned land and Government owned (Revenue) land together is less than ten percent of the total area (??) as people say. Land is a precious commodity, saleable land is almost non existent and the only known method to acquire it is encroachment, forced and clandestine. Thus, in Munnar encroachment is the rule rather than the exception. As private parties know how to protect their holdings the Revenue land is usually the most vulnerable target of encroachment. Once in 2007 Kerala Government tried , for a change, to establish their ownership over revenue land leading to alarming revelations of high level corruption. Finally Government was forced to retreat from this noble endeavour. That it was not an honorable retreat is history now.

Munnar, with its air conditioned climate and breathtaking natural beauty makes it very hospitable for the busy city dweller to spend a weekend. Therefore, tourists in Munnar are not of the big money type, but ordinary people, professionals, middle class families, students and the like. They are not looking for expensive facilities but comfortable stay and convenient transport at affordable costs. Although there is a certain amount of exploitation in all domains, people accept it with a smile considering it as a natural price to pay for a an escape from the ennui of everyday life and a fine holiday.

This hill resort has two main arterial roads that connect the locations of tourist interest to the town. One is the State Highway, connecting Mattupetty, echo point, Kundala and Top Station. The other is NH 49 (Cochin Madurai road) passing through Devikulam, Gap Road, Anayirangal, and Pooppara. From these roads it is possible to go via estate roads to other interesting places like Golf Links, Silent Valley (not the famous one) and other lesser known places. Another main road that exits to Tamil Nadu passes through Eravikulam National Park, Marayur, the famous sandalwood forest and Chinnar wild life sanctuary. Of late the forest department of Kerala has been doing a good job, fencing up the forest neatly to prevent avoidable theft and encroachment.

The salient features of tourism in Munnar are: traveling through the narrow roads, stopping for a while at points where the road is wide enough,(these are called View Points) enjoying the wavy, emerald landscape dotted with silver oak trees against the backdrop of a blue sky and bundles of white clouds or an all-engulfing mist that clears slowly as the wind washes them aside. There were many such points for ordinary people to watch the awesome nature, be part of it and copy them to camera. One such spot was called “Echo Point” where the Mattuppetty reservoir narrows down like a river with the road on one side and a hill on the other. Children and elders used to enjoy their own voice echoing back with immense clarity at this point.

The Government , realizing the importance of this spot constructed a neat, long platform on the water’s edge with steps leading to the lake for people, including children to enjoy the thrill of this point safely. The picture shows the plight of echo point today. The water side of the road is totally blocked by shanty shops, preventing the visitors from even looking at the lake. If you force your way through the gap,(as I did, to take this photo) the scene is even more appalling (See the picture). The platform is closed on all sides with shanty shops selling trinkets, bangles, key chains and the like, besides mini hotels serving foodstuffs. Standing on the platform you cannot even watch the lake, let alone trying your echo. The well constructed tourist platform is now the verandah of the shanty shops. As can be seen in the picture the platform is empty on a busy day because the hawkers allow only genuine customers to stand there. The sundry tourist trying out his echo is quietly shown the exit. All the sides of the platform are now in the hands of illegal hawkers and vendors, apparently let out with the connivance of the local administration and political leadership. I verified with a forest guard managing a nearby check-post who believes that the entire thing is managed by politicians through criminals masquerading as poor hawkers. He does not rule out drug-peddling as one of the objectives of illegal shanty shops. They, with the tacit support of corrupt authorities, are holding the disorganized visitors to ransom .Now no new visitor would ever know there was an echo point here. Thus the Echo Point is dead. Long live the Echo Point.

If you drive a kilometre towards Munnar you reach the beautiful Mattuppetty dam full of sparkling water. There are no shops on the dam itself, but adjacent to it the trader’s town is built on either side along the entire sidewalk and parking space. Shops supply tea, coffee, snacks , fruits and tender coconuts, throwing the entire waste to their ‘backyard’ which incidentally is the dam’s Reservoir itself. The second picture shows the plight of the reservoir with all the waste and junk thrown in from the shanty shops.It is customary, nay fashionable, to blame tourists for environmental degradation. Here the tourists so far never threw any waste into the reservoir. It is now done by hawkers and vendors enjoying property rights on public places, with the patronage of corrupt officials and politicians.

The third picture is more interesting: This is a shop selling bangles, trinkets and other such essentials to sustain human life. A warning notice board of the KSEB forms the rear wall of this shop. This warning tells the public(you and me) that they would withdraw permission to pass over the dam any time without prior notice. Such an omnipotent authority has abdicated their responsibility in favour of criminals and antisocials who now rule the roost. What a shame!!!.I asked the shopkeeper how long he had been running his business in the premises. He said ten to fifteen years. These shanty shops were certainly not there during my last visit a couple of years ago. Obviously the politicians have taught these people to claim long term occupancy on the dam-site. If there is an attempt to clean up the place survival of the squatters could be upheld as the moot point. But the unanswered questions are, why KSEB, has abdicated their throne, and what the Revenue and Police departments are doing to stem the rot. Are they sharing the loot with the politicians, or, are they themselves the culprits? The citizen has a right to know.

The fourth picture is on the famous “Gap Road” on NH 49, beyond Devikulam. This place, with the frequent appearance and disappearance of mist, was a favorite place for visitors to watch the clouds. You can see the clouds down below between the valleys as from an aircraft. The view point has no more view, because the hawkers and vendors have shut off all the view. Now they ask you to move your vehicle away so that it doesn’t obstruct their “shops”. Picture shows how the genuine vehicles are pushed to the black top toad from the parking area. These vendors claim to have a right to do that as they have paid heavy bribes to politicians and officials in order to establish the business. I went to other areas in Munnar and found the same model repeating.

A silver lining in the dark scenario is the quality of maintenance and service at Rajamala. It will be unfair not to mention how neatly Eravikulam National Park is run. The forest department runs mini buses from the entrance to the deep interior, not allowing any outside vehicles to pass, after checking the bags of visitors to make sure that no edible substance is taken to the park. This is to ensure the safety of the rare Nilgiri Tahrs from frivolous and unscrupulous visitors. A few years back there was utter confusion here, due to chaotic driving and visitors claiming more than their due. Now tourists can spend as much time as they wish and return safe. Judging by the crowd and waiting lines one should presume that the project is quite viable and generates a reasonable income. This is in astonishing contrast to what is happening elsewhere in Munnar where politicians, given a chance, would establish hotels to serve mountain goat meat as a special delicacy rather than saving Nilgiri Tahr. This also shows that where there is a will there is a way even in a Government department. One wonders why KSEB has unleashed such a criminal anarchy in this place and why the Department of Tourism maintains this deafening silence.

I used to work in Munnar from 2004 to 2007, and I was a frequent visitor to these places, working closely with the revenue administration and the forest department on their Citizen’s committees. The administration had a commitment to clean up the places when illegal encroachments of this type took place. It is certain that some drastic change has taken place since then, where corrupt politicians with diabolic intentions masquerading as people’s representatives, working hand in glove with criminals and antisocial elements are torpedoing public interest and making profit out of the filth by dishonest means. They are holding you and me to ransom. It is time we woke up and called a spade a spade. Those who read this blog may please spread the news and create an awareness among the public. In God's Own Country what was once a small piece of heaven is now turning into hell. We have to eradicate this evil process of transformation.

Simple Solutions to Complex Problems

Protection of environment is a major concern of many individuals, organizations and Governments. Most of them speak and write about it, mostly blaming the government and local administrations. Governments on the other hand bring about Legislative acts, allocate budgetary provisions and support seminars and symposia. Laws, Rules and punitive actions have created some awareness among the public. Maintaining mini jungles and water bodies in the name of religious beliefs used to help in yesteryears; but on the face of growing “scientific” thinking, secularism and escalating land prices, keeping jungle abodes for snakes in the backyard(famously known as Sarpa-kavu in Malayalam) in the name of tradition is no more feasible. Scientific thinking is purported to be the basis of our decisions, which is often superseded by political reasoning. Occasional attacks of Chikungunya and swine fever keep everyone on the alert at least on personal cleanliness, although we are back to Square One once the epidemic recedes. Many Panchayats and local bodies have started installing biogas plants that achieve the goals of waste disposal and power generation besides producing some organic fertilizer. We can be happy that we are into it though somewhat late.

Uppsala is a small town eighty kilometers North of Stockholm in Sweden. It has a beautiful canal running through the length of the city, passing under several bridges connecting the two parallel roads on its banks. The canal has a small drop before entering the park. There are avenue trees on either side of the canal with seats, benches and small waste bins where all kinds of people, tourists and locals, young and old, boys and girls spend their leisure and happy times. The trees drop a lot of flowers in the canal in Spring, and leaves in Autumn. As the slow water carries them downstream the canal would look dirty and polluted. The City administration is aware of this persistent problem. I was amazed by the simplicity of the solution they adopted in this era of high technology. (See picture).

A rope carrying thin reapers is tied across the canal at forty five degrees. All surface wastes such as flowers, paper cups and plastic bottles collect to the corner which the cleaners sweep away every morning and evening, leaving the water downstream always clean. There are many simple solutions to complex problems around us. Why don’t we think of them?

A seat on the canal’s left bank

Teaching, Learning, Evaluation and Politics

The recent results of SSLC examination in Kerala did proud to everyone: Government, students, teachers and managements: a win-win situation in the modern jargon. Our children have performed an amazing forward leap in academic quality, thanks to the sincere effort of evaluators and policy makers who wielded the magic wand. It was the umpires who played this time to bring about such an incredible advancement by reducing the minimum requirements for a pass to ridiculously low levels. This act of charity enabled the lazy and dull to pass the exams and join the rest. It should now be possible to enhance the country’s prosperity overnight by bringing the “poverty-line” to similarly low levels. If the concerned agencies wake up to this task India will no longer be a poor country.

Education is concerned with acquisition of knowledge and skills. Evaluation is an essential and integral part of this process. More than anything else, evaluation should give valid feedback to the student as to whether he/she has scaled the requisite levels in the concerned subjects. At the end of the evaluation, if the teacher tells a lie the process simply becomes invalid. Somehow a sizeable population of teachers believe that they are empowered to award “marks” as a matter of gratis. Students and parents eagerly look forward to this largesse after every examination. Acceptance of this premise causes many factors other than academic to creep in and vitiate the system. We have witnessed several extremely degenerate cases where administrative bodies such as University Syndicates decide to award marks to chosen favorites for political reasons. We should realize that “mark” is a scale of measurement and not material wealth for distribution among the have-nots.

Education in India is hounded by two demons namely Degree Mania and Exam Phobia. Degree maniacs are typical cases of the society that crave the label and not the content. They want only the final gilt edged certificates, and are least bothered about what they learn, nor if they learn anything at all. Exam phobia is a quality inherited over generations: most students consider regular learning during the year/semester unnecessary and prepare for the short term target of passing the examinations. Thus all exams become fearfully difficult. This together with the basic distortion in the evaluation has relegated acquisition of knowledge as the last priority. Things have come to such a pass that learning and scholarship are hardly considered as of any value. To a large extent teachers are also responsible for such erosion in the fundamental objective of education.

It is time we realized that examination is a necessary evil, and that learning has to progress in spite of examinations, and not because of it. If the purpose of learning is to pass an examination, all that you learnt would evaporate immediately after. The residual knowledge (if any) is not usually good enough for higher studies or any profession. The student, on the other hand argues that there is no point in studying any Physics or Mathematics (except to pass the exams) if you are destined to end up as a clerk or bus conductor. The frightening element of truth in this argument traps the whole system in a vicious circle, because a majority of graduates in science, languages and literature have to take up jobs in stations totally alien to their subjects of study.

The policy makers who brought down the minimum requirement for pass in SSLC appear to endorse this line of argument as a short cut to popularity among the youth: Why should everyone know the congruence theorem of triangles and rules of grammar? Of course, it is true that in real life we are never asked to prove any theorem of geometry, nor do we have to recount the years of various dynasties and their wars. We teach all these, and compel the innocent student to learn everything, not because these bits of knowledge and information per se would assist them earn their daily bread. The children would in ten years “learn how to learn” through examples and stories, and face a test of understanding. Geometry and poetry are only training platforms to face a variety of intellectual challenges. The stories they learn may not be important, but certainly the culture of learning and scholarship are. It is in this context that there should be a reliable feedback system of telling the student how much he/she has learnt and how much more he has to. Telling them a lie at this stage is unfair.

Political and administrative authorities, in their blindness emanating from delusions of grandeur arrogate to themselves the right to donate marks as they please, blocking reliable feedback information and sending wrong signals to the student community that the days ahead are for the mediocre. Students will certainly take the cue and conclude that striving for excellence in learning is rather futile.

Countries, Rich and Poor

I am posting this from Stockholm, Sweden. This is one of the richest countries in the world. Coming from India it is difficult to fathom how people in such countries look at the mundane problems of ordinary folks. Having waited indefinitely for the city buses in Trivandrum (which never turn up on time, and sometimes do not turn up at all) and traveled by the mofussil buses in other cities where passengers are packed like sardines, and the great KSRTC buses that ask you to run back or forth from the stop, it was a wonderful sight to see the long and silent buses, often in two compartments connected by bellows, that arrives on the dot, halts exactly at the bus stop and moves on slowly when all are in, and the doors are closed. Through the large windows you can see mostly the empty seats occupied here and there by a lonely passenger. The buses are run on biogas, and release little or no poison to the atmosphere. I wondered how many generations it would be before our country achieves this level of perfectio

In my eagerness to enjoy a bus ride, I got into a bus and asked the driver for a ticket (Conductor is an extinct species in the West, and in all ‘western’ type countries like Singapore and Korea.) He smiled indulgently and pointed to the bus stop, muttering something in Swedish which of course I did not follow. Rather late it dawned on me that I should have bought the ticket before entering the bus. The driver was pointing his finger at something when I got out of the bus. I felt like Mahatma Gandhi famously ejected from a First Class compartment at Pietermaritzburg station in South Africa. When I was about to freeze into a statue at the Vasteras city bus stop two students came to my help. With what little English they could marshal to their command they revealed the technology of getting entry to the bus. Instructions are clearly written (in Swedish) on a board in the bus stop, where the diver’s finger pointed earlier. All that you do is to pull out your mobile phone and send an SMS to 72372; the content of message is just “VV”, meaning one adult. In a couple of seconds an SMS comes to you deducting the bus fare from your mobile account. Now open the message and hold the phone for the driver to read. Into the next bus I entered like a visiting Maharajah in full regalia, holding the mobile phone like a baton of authority.

There are many assumptions and imperatives in this model. If you do not have enough money in the mobile account, no journey is possible. Payment in cash (if permitted) is always costlier than electronic payment- prohibitively costly. So everybody carries a mobile phone, keeps sufficient money in the account and always abides by the law of the land. Otherwise a country with just nine million people (less than two districts’ population in Kerala) cannot maintain such an efficient public transport system and sustain a thriving industrial base. They devise such automated systems because manpower is either too costly or unavailable. This is where countries like ours have to be cautious installing automated systems. When we go for similar systems the collateral damage is the loss of jobs

The environmental awareness in this country is not limited to running buses on biogas, but in the conscious use of bicycle by all sections of the society. Cyclists have safe tracks and parking lots on the main road; and bicycle is popular even among old people. Unlike in the US, you don’t see many obese people here; the average Swede is handsome/beautiful with no fat around the girth. Womenfolk proudly display their beautiful legs of athletic shape and textbook perfection. At the first sight I got a feeling that bicycle is the secret of their health and beauty.

All of us have a tendency to compare every new situation to what we are already familiar with. I dare not imagine an SMS ticket in Calicut-Wynad route or in Trivandrum city. We should be happy that mammoth systems like the Indian Railways have established a very reliable e-ticketing and reservation system for the gigantic railway network of the country. I could withdraw local currency in Sweden from my account in India with an ATM card. Compare this with 25 years ago when you had to empty your pockets of all Indian currency and buy, twenty US dollars in the airport waiting in a long queue with the boarding card for the international flight. What did our rulers and bureaucrats think Indians would do after landing in New York? Beg in the streets, steal, or pickpocket? They knew the answer, and that answer was in the channel of smuggling. Small time smugglers of those days matured as underworld Dons, mafia chiefs and many other things we all know now.

There are certain things we could change in our style and methods. Those who wait patiently for their turn in any queue abroad make a muddle at service counters in India, claiming priority over everyone else. Where does this habit come from? The cause of most of our fatal road accidents is not the condition of the road or vehicle, it is the condition of our mind. Unless we are ready to respect the rights of the “other fellow” we cannot escape from the present quagmire. This is true even if we land a man on the moon.

After seeing all the advancements in this country I do not dream of SMS bus tickets or the beautiful people in my country; but a country where everyone has easy access to safe drinking water twenty four hours a day and 365 days a year; a country where the politician-criminal-terrorist nexus does not divide us and rule, making peace and prosperity a mirage for ever.

Forget the Past and Forsake the Future

It was the philosopher Santayana who said, “Those who do not learn from the past are condemned to repeat it". What about those who never bothered about their own history? They will do much worse than repeating or reliving it; they will tread the paths tried out and abandoned by their predecessors. India and Indians are condemned to this fate because we are an ahistorical society. India’s history was not properly recorded here; and for any worthwhile facts on our own past we depended chiefly on the writings of Arab travelers, Greek diplomats and Chinese scholars. Later of course, the Westerners hijacked Indian History and retold it the way they wanted to.

India’s past beyond the sixth century B.C. has virtually no chronology. Inextricably intertwined with popular fiction, our past is hidden in stories and folklore. Even great scholars who made remarkable contribution to human knowledge and literature are projected as jokers and imbeciles who got a sudden bolt from the blue and turned overnight to statesmen and poets. Two such cases are Chanakya and Kalidasa. Their less worthy Western counterparts are better known and celebrated all over the world not only because of the meticulous care with which the West preserves its history, but due to our own shabby ways of remembering the past. The house where Shakespeare lived in Stratford-upon-Avon is preserved as a national monument in UK. On the contrary, in Ujjain where Kalidasa lived and wrote his epic poetry there is hardly any historical relic other than rivers and temples dating back to his times.

Ujjain was the city of Vikramaditya, the wise and brave emperor whose court was full of legendary luminaries including mathematicians, astronomers, men of medicine, architects, grammarians and scholars whose intellects hovered in the rarified atmosphere at the limits of human understanding. Those days the reference line of “zero longitude” (the equivalent of Greenwich line of modern times) was set through the centre of sanctum sanctorum of Maha-Kaleshwar temple under Vikramaditya’s patronage. All the wisdom and valour of the king is lost in tales of his adventures with a vampire called “Vethalam”. A matter of great surprise is that Vikramaditya (Chandragupta II of Gupta dynasty) lived in the First century AD, more than 300 years after Alexander’s campaign, and yet he is more a folklore’s mystery than a hero of history.

Alexander’s progress through the Indian subcontinent was effectively arrested by Chanakya’s defence planning . He, the mentor of Chandragupta Maurya and the virtual founder of Maurya Dynasty was a statesman par excellence whose knowledge of defence, and original contributions in Law and Economics make him the first ever political economist in the world. Instead of learning Arthasastra as part of the curriculum we try to do a character assassination of the great scholar by focusing on some of his orchestrated idiosyncrasies and stubborn personal style. Is it not a shame that every teacher of economics pays homage to Adam Smith as the first economist in the world, blissfully ignorant about Athasastra, a timeless piece of scholarship produced many centuries ago?

Treasure of Techniques washed away from this country by the currents of “Western education” includes our ability for mental arithmetic. While fairly advanced countries in the West were struggling with Roman numbers(not good for any useful purpose other than counting) during the middle Ages India had always had the decimal system from ancient times. Vedic Mathematics (now popular everywhere) tells us that Pythagoras Theorem was well known in India and had five different proofs centuries before it was known after Pythagoras (6th century B.C- Contemporary of Buddha).

Most of us do not know that one of the most popular results in Trigonometry 〖Sin〗^2 θ+〖Cos〗^2 θ=1 was enunciated by Varahamihira in 5th Century AD. He was the one who tabulated the coefficient triangle of binomial expansions (a+b)^n for positive integer values of n, known today as Pascal’s Triangle.

In fact many of us blame the British for leaving behind a bad education system in India. We do not realize their real success lied in making us believe that we had no past worth remembering and that the West was the fountainhead of all human knowledge.

Today if our students and young people in Western Universities excel in comparison with others one reason is that they have an edge over others in Mathematics. If you wish to taste the excellence of our ancestors in mental arithmetic pull out your calculator and check the values of the “Vulgar Fractions” as your friend who knows the “Sutra” writes it effortlessly on a piece of paper. You will find your calculator is dumb beyond the 8th digit while your mind can go on and on until you recognize a pattern.

1/19=0.052631578947368421 052631..
1/59=0.01694915254237288135593220338 98305084745762711864406779661 016949…
1/79=0.0126582278481 0126582…

Those who can write computer programs may try the conventional method and Vedic Method to evaluate such fractions and look at the merits of mental arithmetic.
Our schools have discarded mental arithmetic in the name of “modernization”. They teach commutativity and associativity before the child gets any clue, presumably because that is how it is done in the West. If the present is the legacy of the past the future would hold for us, what we sow today.

Post Script:
Once I bought in a US Department Store 53 dollars worth sundry things. Reluctant to carry loose change I gave a hundred dollar bill and 3 dollars asking her to return a fifty dollar bill. The teller girl didn’t understand the process and kept insisting that I had given her more than the necessary cash. Hundred dollar bill was enough. On further talking her Supervisor entered the scene, understood my demand, took all the money and entered $103 instead of 100. Balance now gets printed out as $50. There you are!!! She pulls out a 50 dollar bill and gives me, full of smile and surprise, exclaiming, “Oh, these Indians!!! Brainy, Real brainy!!!”
Would you rather, your children advance like the Americans?