Don't let your school interfere with your education!

Well it was a revolt I took up in class 8, 9 and 10. And the words by Mark Twain rang loud in my ears: "I never let my school interfere with my education". Well the revolt still continues till today as I rummage my life to find meaning, excellence and love. I remember writing this on the classroom board in the quote of the day section and being scolded by Renu mam. But I could rarely give up the spirit. I tried every-time to live the commonplace life but the spirit returns to me stronger than ever. I have a way to go to educate myself and will not let any establishment to interfere with my education.

Carmel Chronicles: The Recess Runners

We had the luxury of a fairly big playground in our school. And plays were indeed the most anticipated events on any school day. We tried to eke out time to run around and have fun. Recess was one time we would get everyday.

It is class 3 or 4. The class just before recess is going on. It is one of those times when in an attempt to find some way to keep your attention away from the class you drop your pen and want it to roll away a good distance for you to take multiple minutes to get it back. And the recess bell is conspicuously delayed. But finally it rang. And oh what a music it is to our ears. We grab our lunch box and rush out for the ground knowing well that finishing it would just be incidental. The mood outside is indeed festive. Little boys and girls with their multicoloured lunch boxes are seated in circles in the shaded part of the ground or at the circular benches around the trees. It is time to meet friends from the other section and brothers or sisters from a junior class to reassure your presence and protection. Time to chat about the atrocities of the teachers or the glories of your father or grandfather.(I distinctly remember the discussion about the strength of our daddy's or stranger still the size of the shoes that our grandfathers would wear. Some state a ridiculously large size but it is all fair and possible as long as you can better your friend). It is also the time to have a deeper bond with friends by sharing your food or help them in a pending homework.

 The mood appears all joyful, but it is so only on the surface. There is group of around 20, class 4 students gathered near the tree towards the Hindi medium building. There is an auction going on for the best runners. In the game one team has to chase the other team's members. The captains of the two teams are the ones who have proved themselves to be the most agile and shrewd runners of the lot. Now they have the privilege of choosing their teams. All the other boys are huddled together in an expectation that their loyalty to their favourite captain will reap its results today. There is a slight argument between the captains about who will be the first one to choose a player in his team. Because the first one gets to choose the star runner, the one distinctly faster than all others. It is an enviable status exactly one kid would enjoy for a period of time. The kids are picked one by one and each one reassures the captain of his best efforts. It is a time for the captains to end old rivalries as well as to confirm new ones. The teams are decided and one of them chases the other.

The play ground has transformed into a battle ground now. Everything is fair in this war. It sometimes happens that you are being chased by a fast but noble kid whom you know would not harm others in an attempt to catch you. The best strategy for such an opponent is to bring him in a position such that your are across a group of students seated for lunch. And then you have to deceive him as to the direction you are going to run to escape him. And if you can get a group of students passing by, you can escape from behind them knowing well that he will not push them to get across to you. But then there are also these ruthless chasers who would not mind jumping over or on other kids to catch you. The runners are hunted down one by one by the chasers the one surviving till the last betters his reputation in the group and threatens the position of the present 'first kid to be selected'. The recess ends and we all get back to classrooms bathed in sweat and basking in the glory of our chase or our escape.
It was precisely for such exciting things that I would die to go to school and miss it so much even today. 

Carmel Chronicle: The Class Monitor

It was when she would become the class monitor that she would transmogrify herself into a ‘Nayak’ of sorts. She would dawn on the soul of upholder of truth and justice and be the common flesh and blood no more. All this can be taken but the fact that she would have a special liking for writing my name on the board ( and I am sure every student in the class felt the same) can’t be taken. I mean while all the barbaric acts of indiscipline were being overlooked I was being punished for the least movement of the lips. Well it was fun too to steal a chat while the monitor looked away. So, the monitor would write the names of the students who would talk on the board and the teacher would punish them when she comes to the class. But there was an exception: those students who would keep silence and behave well for a period of time as felt appropriate by the monitor would have their names erased from the board. And that was the caveat that made it statistically safer to finish your talks in the first phase of the monitoring because you then have all the time to be the best student in the world. And there were these liberal monitors who would warn you at least three times before they write your name on the board. And with the smallest stint of silence, before the teacher has to enter,  would erase your name. And these were exactly the monitors you want to be in good terms with. Everything said the monitors did the thankless task of disciplining us, although it must have been quite a pleasure to see the lesser mortals in their fear and subjugation.

Kota Chronicle: When excellence is the norm

At the surface Kota is thought to be a fiercely competitive environment where students are fighting for their choicest dream. For me, however, it was a different story and I will many would agree with these. My fellow students all had great humane values coming forward to help each other even it meat personal sacrifice. an there was very little ego. I mean no matter how intelligent people were they all behaved as if everyone is ordinary. Maybe when excellence becomes a norm pride has no place. I personally never wished any other student to perform less so that i could go ahead, and others felt the same way towards me. There was a sense of healthy competition, a sense of respect for each other which I do not find in much less 'successful' groups that I have come across. There was no prejudice either, we hardly knew about each other's background in detail. There was a common objective of excellence and we were quite comfortable with the fact that one who puts the best effort gets the best result. Even the teachers were very relaxed and did not put any pressure. For me, who has never worked under a pressure to perform, it was a sigh of relief. They teachers were never moved by fleeting show of excellence or a drop in performance. They knew that life is a long game and sustained efforts is what ultimately pays you.
In the present environment in which I live is not composed of the most academically successful people but still there is jealousy and back biting. May be only when excellence becomes a norm pride has no place.

Kota Chronicles: The leaky piston

It was a usual chemistry class. Amay Pandey Sir was in his usual intellect and charm. I was in my usual meditative focus I had cultivated in those IIT days. Class was usual, filled with many friends and a few competitors. I was sitting in the second row, the optimum for Amay Sir's style of presentation: not getting too overwhelmed by his aura, nor being out of his sight. Then came the challenge. It was a piston-cylinder system which was leaking. It was being heated as well. The piston would go up or down? He framed the question twice. That was it. It seemed to be a normal trivia. But, it was not. I realized it when the answer eluded me and carried me deeper into my thoughts. I would not let it go either. I took up the challenge and put the problem in the category of 'constant contemplation' problem. These problems would be very tough only my subconscious mind in partnership with some higher intelligence could solve it. I went everywhere with my new friend: the leaky piston.
It was there with me on the cycle. My maximum attention on the problem, I only cared about not being hit by the vehicles. In the room, in the washroom, the mess, everywhere I went I argued with, coaxed and threatened the leaky piston. It was not yielding. Then, voila! in a flash it was there, it would go up. I rechecked my logic. I played it in my mind. It would go up! Was is it a special problem, sir did not suggest it to be so. But, it took all my thoughts to arrive at the solution. It must be special.
The next Amay Sir's class was here. I took my seat, felt a turn in my stomach and a bit of temperature. Did he remember the problem he asked in the previous class? Will he ask for the answer. Yes he did: "Soocha kisine?". There was a silence. There were all these geniuses in the class, they had not got the answer? I took a deep breath. Should I divulge my answer or will it be too outrageous, out of norm. I think it is best to keep quite. "Kisine nahi soocha?" he repeated. I thought he expects to hear the answer from someone. I had to tell: "It would go up". There was silence. He looked in my direction. "It would go up," I repeated. He winced and then grinned. "Senior se puch liya kya?" he questioned quiet surprised. I said I thought it out and explained it in short. "Badhiya yaar pehle kabhi koi nahi bataya iska answer", he said and gave that charming smile with dimples. I was pleasantly relieved but behaved as if everything was normal. But, I was excited to my bones and shivered a bit. He winced and smiled again, turned around and continued with his usual intellect and charm. 

Kota Chronicles: Failure is the stepping stone to success

Well we have heard this so many times: take lessons from your failures and make them a stepping stone to success. And this happens in the lives of most people who have achieved something worthwhile in their lives. This is what happened to me as well while in Kota. Not remaining with crowd had many advantages and disadvantages in my life. At one time what seems as a disadvantage turns into advantage at other point in life. So, the 10th boards were over, me and bhaiya were going to Kota. I had already filled up the form of Bansal classes. I had not filled up the form of any other coaching institute. I heard that my other classmates were already there in Kota finding materials to prepare for the entrance exams of the coaching institutes. I was not really inclined to join them. I always remained sort of independent bird. The exams came and I thought I had done fine but Bansals thought otherwise. I was not selected but all my other friends were, I think 7 of them. It was a set back. But, something incredible happened after that setback. After that failure I would enter into a regimen that would cruise me through to IIT-JEE. I took stock of myself and started preparing for te second phase of entrance with full decisiveness.

I did a few things that mark the method for success in any field in this world.
1. I found a mentor: I would call it a divine arrangement that I met Shivam in the same flat that I was living in, Few things had influenced me as much before than he did. He was ranked 3 in the Bansal entrance test and a formidable candidate for top 100 rank at IIT-JEE two years later. His way of thinking for solutions to problems astonished and educated me. Problems that I would fret with for 2 hours, he would solve in just two minutes. My brain grew trying to grapple with Shivam's intellectual level. He was intelligent, helpful and humble. The very combination that I wanted to be myself.

2. I found the right materials: It was also incidental. I already had a NTSE book of TMH. But when I went to the book shop I found a NTSE book of MacMillan. I flipped through it and found some questions similar to those of Bansal entrance exam. Although I am always very cautious at spending money, I ventured and purchased that book. And well, it was the exact material that I need for the entrance tests. For the next one month I poured over the book and solved every part of it cold.

3. I worked hard: If that failure had not happened to me, I would have never taken the decision to work that hard. I studied almost the whole day at the same time maintaining my mental sharpness by light exercises. I could get a sensation that I was making mighty intellectual leaps.

As it happened I cleared Bansal, Resonance with Scholarship and Delhi with Scholarship. It was all happiness and I chose Resonance as it provided scholarship.

Can hurt people's feelings but not people

The intolerance debate is boiling hot and there is a subtle thing we are all missing. There is a group of people who hurt the sentiments of others and when others protest they are labelled intolerant. They are labelled intolerant because the form of the protest is different from the harm caused. Harm is caused to the sentiments while the protest is physical. Yes it is the fault of those who protest physically for they do not have the education to reply in terse logic. Yes it their fault to not have the popularity to garner public supports. They are afterall unwanted barbarians uninitiated to educated criticism. If they can't reply with words they should better tolerate and live humiliated. When their beliefs are questioned and disgraced they should tolerate for they are not articulate enough.