Pencils and Promises

I remember my Kinder Garten teacher. "Elizabeth". She was a sweet lady, kind and generous. Always smiling she welcomed the kids with pat on their back or a warm hug as she waved parents good bye.

I still remember my first day at school. Walking with my mom into the basement class, shy and fearful of the new atmosphere. I entered the room and looked at the teacher- a tall lady with a big smile and her thick pink lipstick stood out. After so many years, that shocking pink is still etched in my memories. She welcomed me to the school, hugged me and took me to my desk. She gave me the first pencil and that changed my life. I held that Pencil and promised myself, " I am going to make my parents proud"

Days followed in KG, I sat in the bench close to the window, looking through the checked cement grill that divided the school and the road. That cement structure might have been a just a window to the classroom, but for me it was a window to my future.

Then I remember examinining my pencil. It was the standard red and black looking one..etched "NATRAJ" , not sure if I read that tight. I definitely could read the alphabets. She demanded the promise when she gave me that pencil. Several years later ,every day I remember that promise I made to her..."Be good, behave, be kind and make your parents proud"

That pencil became my proud posession for many years. Sometimes, I would write with it, and feel sad...afraid it would become small and slowly vanish. Keeping my head on the desk and pencil in near sight I would often dreamed..and dream for hours. I wonder what I dreamt, I don't remember any of those dreams, but one thing for sure - I enjoyed dreaming.

I grew up and eventually we started writing by pens. I always felt sad about that. Although other kids around me were excited on graduating to a pen, I was always attached to this pencil. I would often look at it and remember the days with my KG teacher and the stories she read for us. When it became too small to be used, it found a place in a pouch and was safely tucked in one corner of my bookshelf. Every time it met my eye, that was once in a while Nursery rhymes would fill my heart.

This pencil was strangely connected to all the promises I made. Every time I made a promise, I the pencil would catch my eye, kind of reminding me, that I have to keep the promise, like I kept the pencil.


I want to rewind back to those times
as a child when I wrote with my pencil
On the paper, in my book
when life was a journey not a race

I want to rewind to those times
Go back to the fairy tales
draw random sketches with my pencil
make simple promises
That I can keep

Today I still have that pencil,
it is short - but still writes,
can draw the same pictures, bring the same joy
But Life is too complicated and sadly today
Promises are meant to be broken

Ripples

Back to my dreams and my rambles from those dreams. Last night was peaceful, thoughts were settled, but there was an incomplete feeling. Was it a feeling or a thought? Somethings cause us feel, some others make us think.

What is the distinction? the real question is - if someone is feeling, is he thinking less? If parts of your brain are occupied by this feeling, then is there less space for thought?...thousands of questions, soon I drift into slumber..

Sitting by the lake, I see the water is shining bright embracing the rays of the Sun. The little boy right across was enjoying the freedom. He was following this butterfly as it floated around the bushes. Distracted every moment from one thing to another he was careless. The mother was busy packing the stuff and getting bag ready to leave. The boy sat down and crouched around a bunch of rocks. He picked one of them and tossed it.....

My eyes followed the stone into the water. Ripples... extend outward across the surface. The fishes sense the ripples and were spooked...there was a pause in the calmness!! One assumes the further away the ripples get from the center, the less impact they have. That's not so right, they have an impact as long as they last, sometimes they last a lifetime. The spooked fishes move away and get trapped in the net of a nearby fisherman...changes their destiny.

I wake up, ready to leave...this time I am sure these are thoughts. Thoughts about Actions caused by those Ripples...

Actions are in a way similar to there Ripples. One small act of kindness can encourage another person to act kindly, and a chain reaction starts. Similarly, if someone treats someone else poorly, the victim may lash out at another. The smallest disagreement can escalate quickly; this is how battles develop into wars. Every action leads to a reaction.

Think before you toss stones or hurtful words. They do have impact, and the ripples last a long time before they fade away. It is best to make ripples in a positive way because even the smallest ripple has the power to bring happiness to someone or something.

Our Mind in a way is like the lake and thoughts are the pebbles. Thoughts are tossed in and create the Ripples - makes us think, keeps us alive, help us grow.

School Days

There has been reams and reams written about our life at schools, memories of schools, friends at school and there will be even more written. That's how the school life is!! You don't appreaciate it then, but it becomes a part of your later life.

I thought my Blog will be incomplete, without my thoughts on school. What triggered this was a simple Pushpa remark about Viggy and the conversations that followed us, during our walk. Mind is factory of thoughts...that never stops. Here is my ramble about School days...

As a child I remember, the first encounter with the outer world was my School. It was a window to the world for me. Kindergarten especially, was like Facebook in my early years. A space where I went every day to interact, hear and see what's in the mind of other kids. What they liked, how they interacted etc.. without being judged, not being questioned, never stopped...it was pure unconditioned learning

The school day would start - forcefully being dragged out of my bed by my parents. Then having a quick breakfast and walking to school was the order of the day. For me,the learning started right there. The moment I stepped out, walking by those lanes completely distracted - it took me a while to reach to school. Learning - week days, months, colours, fruit, vegetables and recognizing them were just a small part of studies. Getting appreciation by teachers meant a lot. Learning rhymes, playing with other kids, getting injuries became daily routine. Slowly I learnt one more thing... that scoring good grades was most everyone cared about.

As a child I began to understand the meaning and value of school only when I reached primary classes. And again a new collection of memories got attached. Celebrating independence day, republic day, birthdays, participating in various extracurricular activities added thrill to life. Turning page of those reminiscences in the form of snaps add new life even today. Recollecting those days with teachers and classmates on Facebook makes me feel little lighter now as I share this Blog.

Then the memories of internal exams and their result still cold the nerves. Reaction of my parent when the result was not up to their expectations, Horror of Board exams, all the sleepless nights and then the result all together - a bunch of most nervous moments of schooldays.

Prizes, medals, certificate and appreciation were the part of those days. Lot of stress, competition, struggle was the part but still a healthy atmosphere. Many friends and memories become life long companions were the gift of school. Sharing lunch with classmates, hanging in the school canteens and helping each other in completing their pending home work was satisfying. Today they just remain... as recollections of school days.

Excess pressure of studies and getting good marks, discipline of school and strictness of teachers were the most frightening part of those days.But inspite of all it was fun, new excitement everyday and few worries were the highlights of those school days.

Every time I drop my son to school my eyes begin to swim in those memories of my school days. I see the children turn their back to me and get drawn to those narrow corridors of learning and as I wish if I could go back and get lost in those corridors once again!!!