Roses in December -Dehradun ,New Years and Christmas !!

I grew up in Dehradun (though I was born in Burma )which is a pretty town lying about 240 kms from Delhi  and just 21 kms  from the Queen of hill stations Mussoorie .Haridwar is 47 kms away . It was a town which once  historically was a part of Nepal but was annexed by the British after the Anglo Nepalese War (1814-1816) A substantial number of Britishers and Anglo Indans   settled down  here  because it reminded them of England. At one time ,one could not buy property in certain parts  of  the town unless one was a Britisher or a Anglo Indian .Many  retired people made it their abode-mostly people who had served in the Indian  Railways during the British time  ,tea planters and even some school teachers (Miss Lumsden for sure !!).It also has a huge Tibetan  and  Nepalese  population now .It was called a town of green hedges and grey hair and a town in which more people died rather than got married .I grew up in beautiful, green ,sunny ,mountainous Dehradun .Our house was and is still on the fringes of the Rajaji Game Sanctuary.

Not surprisingly the town had a English speaking culture .The bus conductors ,the scooter richshaw drivers and even some of the old cobblers and mobile bakers , spoke in English –albeit not the way the Queen would speak ,but surely good  enough to be understood .Not surprisingly the town had some of the best schools the country could boast of –St Josesphs (my school), Doon ,Convent of Jesus and Mary,and Welhams leading the pack .We had Irish brothers teaching us and so were our Principals –Irish .Winds of change started  towards the end of the 60s when some home  Brothers started to “infiltrate” into the system .The smouldering embers of colonialism could be felt and seen in the way we celebrated the festivals .I do remember Diwali and Holi of the 60s –but what I remember most vividly is Christmas and New Years  eve .I remember the town being decked and people going around wishing each other  .The festivals were more public than private like we have now .

If Christmas and New Years was such a important event –it stands to reason that the confectionary of the town had to rise to these occasions .Because what is Christmas without a plum cake .!!And I can say with absolute honesty that I have never been able to get the quality of buns ,bread ,pastries and cakes like the ones that we used to get in the Dehradun of the 60s and maybe of the 70s (when major demographic changes started to take place for various reasons –one of them being that the Anglo Indian families started to dissappear either due to death (Lumsden,Messenger,Col Adams ,Flasskett ,Mr and Mrs Monk and many more ),or because they migrated back to their parent country.I have travelled a lot around some of the biggest and oldest cities of the world –but I haven’t ever come across the quality of the confectioners of the 60s in Dehradun .Milkmade (later the name was changed to Elloras),Standard ,Sunrise ,and Grand (in Paltan Bazaar),were stand out bakeries and good old Central Stores dished out the best bacon,ham and sausages that one could ever get .In Scotland about 2 years back I ordered a breakfast with ham and sausages –and amazingly they smelt and tasted like the ones of Central Stores .These days in the age of calories intake –the ham and bacon with cuts of fat on them are hardly available !!

There also was a Club –The Doon Club .It was the only Club during our times and my father was a member of it.Sometimes he would take us to it (though he liked to go alone there because he loved to drink and play “Teen Patti”!!-which he probably thought was a bad thing for children to see !!).It was a typical British kind of Club –a bigger and more elaborate version of a old pub in England .One could get the amazing  aroma which was a mix of cigarette smoke and alchohol(oh I simply love it and make it a point to buy Cigar and Whiskey after shaves and mix them !!) and food !!Old British “burra sahibs”,would enter it and stand at the door while either the bar boys or the valets peeled of their overcoats and hung them on the pegs .But they always removed their top hats on their own .I don’t know what has happened to the Doon Club –but I am sure it must have been overrun by the feisty and boisterous crowd that one gets to see in lets say Chelmsford  or Panch Sheel Clubs  in Delhi .Please do try to appreciate the fact that there is a difference between a club ,a hotel,a restaurant,or a motel .I think if the Doon Club exists –it is a living dead .The clientele that made it so special has long left the world .

Then there were restaurants .Again very British .Royal Café(which used to be next to Orient movie hall and owned by the Pasrichas I think)),used to have a crooner entertain us while we dined .We always asked the beautiful lady  to sing “Qay Surra Surra (Doris Day ).There was a small dance floor –enough for 3 couples to dance ,and mostly  gentlemen cadets or the army personnel would occupy it .And the  music was soft -not noisy .The fastest one could dance –was the “twist”.!!Once in a while we would also go and do the twist !!but mostly it was ballroom music that was played out –“Aaage bhi jaaney na tu ,job hi hai –yahi ek pal hai”.Ah wonderful memories .Apart from Royal Café –there was Napoli where we would go mostly for Noodles .There was also a juke box to entertain you .Put a coin and listen to your favourite number.And of course my fathers  favourite   eating joint –Moti Mahal which was so ably run by the Ahluwalias .It still is there –and must be among the only restaurants that have stood its ground as  brands have sprouted and overrun the city.Fish and chips –typical British meal –was our favourite ,though they also served tomato fish and peas  of high quality .The restaurant is now managed by the son who went to college with me and is a good friend .I had the pleasure of having food in the restaurant a few years back .I was lost in memories .

As Christmas is now in the past and New Year approaches  ,I am tempted to compare the change that has taken place over the decades in the way these days are celebrated  .In many cities in which I lived –these festivities  have got noisier  and unruly .They are celebrated but there is a difference in the way they are celebrated  .Its like the difference between the music which is played by a band in a baraat in a wedding and the music that is played in a concert  in Vienna  .As for me ,I always remember the celebrations in  the last week of the year as we celebrated them in Dehradun  in the 60s and 70s .I know that  they are never going to be celebrated  the way I would love them to be .Call me a orphan of the British Raj in India .Call me anything .But I no longer celebrate these days .Maybe a bottle of wine  with some fish and chips made at home .And  listen to Doris Day and “Aaagey bhi  jaane na tu”.And then drive down to see the fireworks at midnight at Burj Khalifa .I am told they are quite spectacular .

But nonetheless –“Happy New Year”.I hope all of you have a great year and each of you try to be what you are meant to be .Dont try to get too influenced by others and dont compare yourself with anyone .And give a thought to what Bob Dylan wrote many years back
 "All this talk about equality. The only thing people really have in common is that they are all going to die." Celebrate THE DIVERSITY OF LIFE .Accept the good and the bad .Sometimes accept destiny and surrender .Believe me you might feel more liberated .!!

The "Clean Chit" To Modi

The court has given a clean chit to Narendra Modi in the Gulbarga Society Massacre which led to the grotesque killing of Ahsan Jafri .He was cut limb by limb and his body was burnt -and as such it was not found .Only a pair of chhapals stand testimony to the fact that he existed .Who was Ahsan Jafri?Jafri was a a man who was popular enough to win the Ahmedabad Lok Sabha seat post emergency when Mrs Gandhis Congress was swept out of power post the 1977 Emergency Elections . .He was also a poet and a literary figure and even  wrote a book "Qandeel "(Lantern). On 28 February 2002,(a day after the Godhra massacre ) when riots broke out in Gujarat, he was killed by a rampaging extremist Hindu mob. By early morning, a large mob gathered at the Gulbarg Society in the Chamanpura suburb of Ahmedabad.This is a area very near the Police Commisioners area and which i passed many times while at Ahmedabad . It  was an almost entirely Muslim housing society where the septuagenarian Ahsan Jafri lived. According to First Information Report of the incident filed by police inspector K.G. Erda, the violent extremist Hindu mob started attacking Muslim owned establishments in the morning and were dispersed by the police. However, they reassembled around 1 PM armed with swords, sticks, pipe and kerosene,and  had blown up gas cylinders to blast through walls in the Gulbarga society. The report also mentions that the rioters were guided by voter lists and computer printouts with the addresses of Muslim-owned properties. This claim was repeated by  witnesses presented before the Nanavati Commission. Believing the area to be safe given Jafri's presence, many Muslims in the area had gathered in his compound. Around 10:30 in the morning, the Ahmedabad Commissioner of Police, P.C. Pandey, personally visited Jafri and apparently assured him that police reinforcement would be coming. In the next five hours, Jafri and top Congress officials of the state repeatedly kept calling the police and other government officials requesting safe transport for the residents, but no help arrived.The FIR by Erda further stated that the police station had 130 policemen on duty that day, and were well armed with teargas shells. However, no one was deployed to disperse the crowd, despite Ehsan Jafri and top Congress politicians repeatedly contacting the Director General of Police, Police Commissioner, the Mayor, Leader of Opposition in the State parliament, and other top government officials.Nothing happened .!!The crowd went on a rampage .Around the same time another massacre was taking place at Naroda Patiya a  few kilometres away .It was one of Indias darkest days and showed how ineffective governance can reduce human beings to beasts .
There is no reason to celebrate the courts verdict .Whether Modi was directly involved or not is not the central question .There may be proof or there may not be proof of his involvement .The fact remains -who is accountable for the law and order in a state in a democracy ?It is the CM of the State .Morally he will always be talked about in Indian History as the Nero who fiddled with the harp as Rome burned .For me -he will always be like the father in a family who was either incompetent or indifferent to the plight of his wife ,daughters ,and sons being raped or killed .I am afraid this is the stigma he will have to live with -much like Rajive Gandhi role in the anti Sikh riots .There are are certain things which are wrong always -irrespective of which Party you belong to .And there are certain things which will never go away -even if you become the PM or President ,or a demi God . 

A Month Away From India .!!

Its been exactly  a month since I landed in Dubai .I have never stayed away that long from India since 1986 when I was away for 2 months in the Phillipines .At that time I had nearly broken down one night because I was feeling homesick –India sick .That was about 30 years back –I was young and I was prone to high emotions .This time –I havent felt the urge to break down !!But that does not mean that I don’t miss India .I refuse to believe that anyone born and brought up in India ,can ever get it out of ones system .Its very natural –the sights ,the sounds ,the smells ,the struggles ,the achievements ,the love affairs ,the moments of victories and defeats ,the relatives ,the friends ,the poverty ,the affluence,the flora ,the fauna ,the seasons  –everything is wrapped around us and has got into our body politic .You cant divorce anything that you have experienced .If you try to do –you will fail because it will be diminishing a large part of your being .When one goes abroad –one should never try to move away from what is a part of you .One should try to add what the new experience will unfold .At the end of the day –the fortunate ones come back home .No one leaves home –never to return .Thats why Shashi Tharoor came back ,that’s why Chandan Mitra came back ,that’s why Rajdeep Sardesai came back ,that’s why Sagarika Ghosh came back ,that’s why Arnab Goswami came back ,that’s why…………….oh innumerable Indians came back when they had the world at their feet .And that’s why we will also come back one day .If we are lucky –we will come back still young enough to work ,if unlucky –at least I will come back to die in India .

The difference between Dubai and India is huge –both in work culture and landscape .Dubai is a international city .In the locality in which I live –my next door neighbour is a French (he has a signage outside his house with a Champs Elysee number on it )on one side and a Fillipino on the other .In the evenings when I walk into Spinneys which is the supermarket just across from where I stay ,I find mostly foreigners .They are the residents of Springs (where I stay).I havent interacted with  anyone of them as yet  .But I am sure ,very soon I will make friends with them .Springs, is a green oasis in the middle of a desert .Impressive buildings jut into the sky around it in a distance  .In the evening ,Dubai is more gliterring than Paris which is called the city of lights .It comes alive with resturants belting music and belle dancers .Alchohol flows freely in the hotels ,and half of Abu Dhabhi and the whole of Sharjah pack its Malls and night clubs .The beaches are crowded with people of all ages –men and wowen in swimming trunks and bikinis absorbing the sun on their oiled and well maintained bodies .Some just sit around and watch the blue waters- occasionally pointing a finger towards a passing ship in the distance .It is a small city by Indian standards –probably no bigger than Defence Colony and South Extention combined .But because everyone has at least one car and because cars occupy more space than individuals –it appears crowded during rush hour .There are no dense foliage of trees and there are no undulating pieces of land .Its flat ,and its monotonous .The best  view of Dubai is when you are about to land at its airport.Below you is a landscape which is brown in color –and its uninterrupted .Contrast this with when you land in Ahmedabad –its interspersed with trees ,dark clouds ,a meandering Sabarmati with a number of bridges ,flat fields surrounded by small hills .A completely different scenario .

The people move around briskly .Everyone walks as if he/she is about to miss a flight .They are almost running all the time .There are no two wheelers in the city –neither cycles or motorcycles .Service Companies bring the housekeeping staff in small sophisticated buses at a particular time and take them away at a particular time .If you make them stay longer –you pay them extra and also pay for their taxi fare home .!!The metros are a mode of transportation for the lower middle class or people who don’t have a driving licence .Everyone has a car .Its no big shakes here –I have a Mitshubushi Lancer ,but will be getting a Prado shortly (four wheel drive ).But I do use the metro –because I like to see what happens in there .

I have been pitchforked in life from a small town like Dehradun to a gliterring fast paced city like Dubai .I taught in a school as a young man whose address was “Village and P.Office Rai”.All my life I spent in interacting with children and a population that was laid back and in places where Sangeeta and me would get up and enjoy our Green Label Lipton Tea on a balcony from where we could see Nilgais ,Peacocks ,Squirrels ,Dogs ,Buffaloes-and even people going to defacate in the fields !! .We would feed the pigeons bajra every morning and would give our dogs two biscuits each of Marie .This was a ritual for years .Life was getting very cosy and comfortable and as such time passed very fast .Because good times travel very very fast !!

Coming to Dubai is my way of slowing things down a little .When one starts a school ,its always like climbing a mountain .One labours up the slope and one moves slowly .Psychologically you feel you are slowing down time .Once one reaches the top,different problems confront you .Everyone wants to pluck the fruit from the tree you have planted ,and at times to do that they try to run you down .One can slug it out –but it adds no value to your life .Its a waste of time .You have two choices –go down to from where you started or climb another mountain.!!But moving downwards takes  one to the destination too fast .I don’t want to cycle back down to Dehradun yet !!I will reach it too fast .And once I reach it –I will rest .Coming to Dubai is my way of climbing yet another mountain .Slowly !!Steadily !!Honestly !!Reaching the summit !!And then going back home .One thing is sure .I think it’s the last mountain I am gonna climb .And you can bet –I will reach the top !!There is a lot of strenght in the legs and the mind left as yet .!!

Teaching Her During A Flight

We  meet   different kind  of people when we  travel in trains ,ferries ,busses or planes  .I always make sure to connect with them by talking .I realize that these are special relationships because they   generated because  people  are on the move,and basically accidental by nature  .And nine times out of ten  they  die once we reach our respective  destinations .We may never meet them ever again .They come into your life for  1 hour ,3 hrs ,12 hrs ,18hrs or 22 hrs !!And  then they  disappear.

 It is rare to be seated next to someone who is travelling for the first time –be it in a train ,bus, ,ferry  or a plane ( have I left out some other modes of transportation?) When I boarded my  Spicejet  Flight from Ahmedabad to Dubai yesterday ,I did the normal things .I sat down  at  my window seat and started to read the travel magazine .Then I started to surf my facebook on my blackberry .I checked to make sure that my camera and  passport is safe . (I am paranoid about it).After  a short while the crew announced that the flight was about to take off and that we should all fasten our seat belts .I had hardly noticed  that a middle aged lady had occupied the seat next to me .I fastened my seat belt , but  I saw she was struggling with hers .I smiled at her and volunteered to  fasten  it for her 

“Pehle baar ur rahi hoon(I am flying for the first time )” she said  .Before she could thank me ,I reopened  the seat belt and asked her to fasten it on her own .She was slightly slow ,but she managed it .I asked her to open the seat belt and she looked at me with amusement and confusion .

“Madam ,aap  uthrengi  bhi toh(you will get down also).Aur phir wapas bhi to Ahmedabad lautain gee.(and you will return to Ahmedabad also).Ab seekh lo, aur bhoolna nahi”.!!

The teacher in me was asserting  himself .She smiled in a childish way -and we had become friends .She was  short in height but appeared tall in commonsense  .She did not know a word of English .My purpose was to teach her and make her  aware  about the procedures of a first time traveler  .I remembered how I had made a fool of myself when I had flown for the first time and how a insensitive Englishmen had laughed derisively at me when I had wanted to go to the bathroom and could not unlock the belt .And even though the airhostesses show it by way of practical demonstration, and on some flights on a screen ,it does not help because it is just a small part of a long monologue of emergency procedures .After having flown so many times  ,I am sure I will still not be able to pull down a oxygen mask  or a life jacket  in a emergency -though I have seen it being demonstrated a million times .!!

I entered into a conversation with her .She was smart women –very sharp and very shrewd .But she was very afraid of flying .She closed her eyes and kept mumbling “ram,ram” as the aircraft  gathered speed before its take off .She kept telling me that she was getting “chakkers”(feeling dizzy).And after only about twenty minutes of flying she asked me “Kitnaa samay rahtaa hai Dubai ke liye”.!!I told her to relax and  to divert her mind , told her “See we are flying over the Rann of Kutch”   -a wide expanse of mud and water surrounded by green .She refused .She said she might vomit .I told her that a waste envelope was provided in the jacket of the seat ,so she could empty out into it .I was firm and added –“muj par mut karna” .The lady was quiet and luckily did not bring up .Later on, I  convinced her to look out through my window .We were flying over Pakistan and I could see the Indus meander through it like a snake .She was eager and said ,

“Pakistan ? We migrated from Pakistan .My grandparents were from Sindh”!.She was excited that she was was flying over Pakistan .She looked out .She was quiet .There must be many a connect through tales between her family and Pakistan .Just like it is for me .She had a sense of humour too .As luck would have it ,we  got caught in a slight turbulence over Pakistan .The plane rocked a little and dropped height .The experienced traveler knows all about it ,but for a first timer it could be frightening   .“Yeh kya hua?”,she asked looking visibly frightened  .“Kuch nahi”I said .I explained that these are routine things that happen during flights .She was quick to respond (I am translating in English)

“This Pakistan also tries to create fear among Indians .They try to unsettle us .But they are like clouds that thunder ,but don’t rain .But they sure shake you up”.I had a good laugh .I told her that air turbulence has got nothing to do with Pakistans ill intentions towards India  .I felt like telling her “Please don’t be like Arnab Goswami and see everything   Pakistani   in every misfortune that befalls our nation!!And our planes !!

I was able to convince her to see the Arabian sea and the Persian Gulf as we flew over it .She noticed a number of dots –ships –that were sailing .And then the landscape changed .I brought out my camera to take photographs of the vast expanse of sand .I told her to look at the hillocks of sand .By now ,her fear of looking down  had disappeared .She was enjoying the view of  the earth from the air .She even spotted a highway that cut across the sandy terrain –like a grey snake .And then we started to lose height .We were descending on Dubai .I told her to watch out for the thousands of the fabulous buildings that that form the skyline of  Dubai and the islands of water  around  which they have built colonies for people to stay .She said she was frightened –but I told her not to miss the experience .In between she had asked how much does  a ticket cost (return).I asked her as to how she did not know –had she not bought it ?She had informed me that a friend had sent her the ticket .She also told me that she was a JBT Teacher in a school in Manicknagar ,Ahmedabad .And that she had lost her husband about 10 years back in a road accident .I did not ask her, her name .And neither did she ask me who I was and what was I going to Dubai for .

The plane touched down .Bumpy and noisy !I told her to follow me to the immigrations and promised to help her get through it and take her to the conveyer belt (no .5).She was obedient .And she followed me .But she refused to take the escalator or the moving walkways(or a travellator as the Brits call them).She said she would get “chakkers”.I told her to keep pace with me in that case becoz ,I wanted to be the first to get the clearance at the immigrations .It can save you 20 minutes or so .!And I usually walk fast on the travellators –so if one is on a travellator and one is walking fast ,then someone simply  walking would have to run to keep pace .And she was huffing and puffing ,but managed to keep pace .

We went through the immigrations and since I had only my hand baggage I said goodbye to her after telling her from where to pick up her checked in baggage .She thanked me profusely .And we parted our ways .No cell numbers were exchanged .We did not even know what the others name was .And we may never meet each other again .But by reaching out to her ,I made sure that I would not forget her for a long time .And maybe even she may be able to remember me because I interfered so much in her travel .My attempt was to teach her .I don’t know whether she was a good student or not .But that does not mean that we stop being interested in people we may never meet again and whose names we  don’t even  know .Or whether they pass or fail .!!

The Stabbing Of Of Muzzafarnagar .

The gory and bloody riots in Muzzafarnagar has shaken up the whole country .It partly reflects the deep divide in our society as well as the complete failure of the administrative machinery .It also reflects how the social media can be used with such devastating effect .And it also frightens one to the bones -Muzzafarnagar is only 135 kms from the Capital of India .It is not a town in far away Bihar or Eastern U.P.,or some other state.It lies near the heart of the power centre of India -Delhi.

Muzzafarnagar is a bustling town mid way between Delhi and Dehradun .I know it well because when I used to study at the Delhi University ,I would pass through it at least 10 times in a year .Add to it ,the number of times we drove with our parents to visit our relatives in Delhi and friends in Meerut –and you will imagine that it is one city I have travelled through more than probably any other city .As one  descended from the Sivalik hills in Dehradun , we would hit Biharigarh where we would gorge into the small marble sized pakoras , and  minutes further onwards  we would  cross over the Ganga Canal and the Army Cantonment  in Roorkee ,pass through the  rather crowded mandi town of Manglaur,then reach Purkazi which was special for me because my cousins (the Joshis),managed a 100 acre farm there .I remember that once they got a huge chunk of wild boar meat which they had shot and which  we cooked and ate at our place in a winter month .Purkazi also had a Animal Husbandry Farm hoarding displayed on the main road .Whether it is still there (the farm I mean ),I don’t know .But for all of us ,it was a important landmark as we meandered through the town ..After Purkazi –we entered Muzzafarnagar .This is a large Municipality Town and sits right in the middle of the sugar belt .It was founded by Shahjahan in 1633,and has 11 sugar mills –making it one of the worlds largest sugar producing town .It also has a steel plant and plenty of factories producing iron stuff –“saryaas” and angle iron.A road forks off from Muzzafarnagar to Shamli a short distance away and brings you into a town that is famous for its brick kilns and “Shamli eent”(Shamli bricks ).It has also been immortalized in a short story by Ruskin Bond “Time Stops At Shamli”.If you haven’t read the short story –you have not read any short story .Muzzafarnagar is only 135 kms away from Delhi .Just about 20 kms away further from Muzzafarnagar is Khatuali .This is  a stopping point for everyone .Buses ,private cars ,taxis ,and even youngsters coming from Meerut and Muzzafarnagar on two wheelers  .Why ?Because it has one of the best motel /hotel/fast food/restaurant /aviary/deer park etc complexes in India  .(We once bumped into film star Navin Nischol with his entourage here ).It is a great place to stop by and have some great snacks .The bathrooms are spotlessly clean and service topclass .Once one left  Khatuali ,one always got caught in the traffic congestion of Meerut and Modinagar before one hit Delhi .

When I read about the riots in Muzzafarnagar ,I was more than just concerned or interested in a casual way .After all I know the place inside out and we had never heard of a rioting of this type ever .And frighteningly –it is only 135 kms from the power centre of Delhi .What happened ?

Trouble started when a young  Muslim man  was killed on August 27 allegedly triggered by comments passed at two Jat girls in Kawal village .The retaliation was swift and brutal .Two of the girls cousins attacked the young man leading to his death .The counter retaliation was not long in coming .The dead mans relatives caught hold of the two who had attacked the dead man and and beat them to death .The Jat Community demanded punishment for the killing of the two youth .It called for a Panchayat on the 31^st and demanded the removal of the SP for his “partisan” behavior.They also demanded a compensation of 25 lakhs for each of the deceased and called for a “bandh” in Muzzafarnagar  on Teachers Day -5^th September !!.They also threatened that if no action was taken ,then they would call a “MAHAPANCHAYAT” on September 7^th at Nagla Mandaur.

Curfew was imposed .Tens and thousands of Jats gathered defying the prohibitory orders on 7^th at Nagla Mandaur  for what the Jats called “BAHU BETI SAMMAN BACHAO MAHAPANCHAYAT” .Inflamtory speeches were delivered .Anger was fuelled even further when some of the participants were attacked .Incidents of stone pelting ,and firing took place where a IBN 7 reporter was killed .Muzzafarnagar was on a pile of gunpowder .Someone had to just light it .

This is where the old 2010 Pakistani video entered the picture .A MLA is said to uploaded it on his facebook page asking people to “see what is going on in Muzzafarnagar”.It was a video showing two men being brutally lynched by a mob in Sialkot in 2010 .This was projected as the killing of the two boys on the 27^th August .!!It just showed how fragile peace is in India at the grassroot level .No one is bothered there about the food security bill or coalgate or railgate .No one has heard about the RTE OR NREGA.There are no Delhi Public Schools ,Shriram Schools or Doon Schools there .Those issues are meant to be discussed by people who inhabit “India”.But “Bharat’’ is different .Here people are  bothered about their survival .This is a land which is called the wild west of India .Here more than 15000 people  have licensed weapons and many times more than that illegal arms .It is estimated that every second household has a weapon .Here law and order and being fair is all that is required .Here the national anthem should be

"tu hindu banega na musalamaan banega 

Insaan ki aulaad hai, insaan banega."

 And when the state tries to do the exact opposite to get votes –the people  take law into their own hands

The mayhem has continued .Why did the police not step in when the first killing took place ?Why did it not step in when the second killings  take  place ?Can the police  hide behind the fact that FIR s had been lodged ?Why did they allow people to gather for the Mahpanchayat when section 144(curfew ),was imposed ?Why did the police not go house to house and confiscate the firearms ?Is it a game plan orchestrated by political parties to polarize the communities to get votes for election 2014 ?Isnt  the CM responsible for the incident and accountable for it rather than passing  the buck on to the opposition and blame them for the “mischief”?.Why was no action  taken when the Home Minister had warned the CM that there was trouble brewing up and he should be vigilant ?Is minority politics going to create a scenario that led to horrible riots in 1946/1947 ?There are hundreds of questions that need to answered .

For me –Muzzafarnagar will always be a town through which we drove and had our breakfast or lunch at Cheetal .For me Shamli will always be a place where Sangeeta and me stopped as we drove from Rai to Dehradun to have the wonderful puri ,aloo and pumpkin vegetable.

There were no rioters then .From where ,and why have they come to haunt this lovely area ? And Ruskin Bond –why has “Time NOT stopped at Shamli”. ?

The Birth of A Principal-Part 2.

G.D .Mishra spoke,slowly deliberately “Principal Sahib” he began “Aapko pataa hai h kal raat kya hua”.?I looked at him with fixed eyes .I did not answer his question(ooh its such a eerie feeling as I write –it seems just like today ,now !).Sajjad took over “Doctor Aggarwal ki acchi pitaai hui.Aap toh yahah se wapas laut jayaye .Kyoh hamare yudh meih bali ka bakra bananaa chahte ho” he said .He continued (I am writing in English though the entire conversation was in Hindi). “We will not let you work peacefully .We will gherao you ,we will trouble you .We are not against you –but we are against privatization .Dont waste your time .You are a smart man and you will do well in Delhi where there are hundreds of private schools .Why the hell do you want to come into the government sector and disturb the balance here .Dont act like a stooge (“chamcha”,he called me ).”.The others were lookin  at me and sizing me up .I now realize that they were gauging my mental toughness.And I now realize how important it is to be a good communicator My turn to speak had come .I began slowly .My voice was modulated and my ideas were thought out carefully .Gokuls words were ringing in my mind .He had asked me not to speak anything that these fellows could twist to their advantage.The wily,ambitious Brahmin was upto the task .He had not been a Secretary of the Teachers Federation of Rai for nothing .

“I don’t know your internal politics,and I don’t want to know it ” I began.Viresh tried to make a point but I told him not to interrupt me .He would get his chance after I spoke . “Tiwariji (Vireshs surname)aap isse vaad vivadh pratiyogta maniyeh .Aaap ko  prash poochne ke liye samay baad me milegaa”,I said .I continued “I have nothing to do with your ambitions and strategies .I have come here to try and make a difference to the lives of hundreds of children .If you give me a chance to do that maybe you might see a great mind at work .You might be able to see the inherent passion,the knowledge and the vision .Who knows maybe you might be seeing perhaps the greatest educationist at work.But for that I have to be given a chance.You don’t even know me and my work.I don’t know about my future ,but I know what I have come to do .You will find me dead honest ,because money does not interest me to the extent that I will go about making it by illegal means .I know my job .I come from a very respectable and successful family.I like politics ,but I love poetry ,literature and music more ”By now I was in full flow .My passion had been ignited and when that happens –nothing can stop me .I was swinging my arms and moving around .Remember I was standing .They were sitting .It was as if I were taking a class .I needed to be in control .And believe me –I was bloody well in control !.

“And finally remember”,and I looked at Sajjad “Don’t ever threaten me .I am not frightened of anyone of you.What is it that  you can do ?Beat me up ?So what –can you break my spirit ?Kill me ?What will happen –another principal will replace me .And where is the guarantee that he will be better than me .?Do what you want –I will not Quit.!”There was a huge emphasis on the words “Not quit”.I consider it to be among my greatest fightbacks(the one involving my recovery from the jaws of death in a hospital being the greatest) .!! I looked at Viresh and told him “Haan Tiwariji ,ab boliye –kuch kahenaa chahahte thae aap?”.There was stunned silence .And some of you who think I speak well ,should have heard me on that day)Viresh  got up from his seat came towards me and put my chair to where it belonged ,shook my hands and said “Guruji,aap apni seat par bathiyeh .Hum aapko yahaan se kahin nahi jaane denge”.Bal Bharati Public School was finally born .!!In the evening ,I hit the bar of Ranjeet Hotel(on Hamidia Road ,the one on lake road had not been started then) ,ordered a pint of beer and their famous “Chicken Sizzler”.It is no coincidence that our last meal was also to be at Ranjeet Hotel and it was after a felicitation programme (farewell),in which Viresh Tiwari garlanded me and waxed eloquently about my contribution to the school .He had said that he hoped that one day I would return .To that extent he had not understood me well enough .I am never the one to return .But for the moment I had won my battle and war at Bhopal .!

It is tough building up schools .Even if the founder is a devil he must be given his due .I sometimes envy people who are lucky to walk into schools that have buses ,staff,children,furniture ,labs ,infirmaries ,affiliations,fire safety mechanisms ,safe drinking water ,buses ,drivers –the list can go on and on .Its a tough job –its easy for people to change things and point out deficiencies .But spare a thought for people who had nothing to change !People who came to set up structures and systems .!But then some people do it And at the end of the day I feel immensely proud that I was able to do it .But one has to be lucky to have a sensible management to work through .Mr Baveja was a workaholic and a perfectionist .I did not love him –but admired him(that’s why I prefer people who love me rather than people who admire me !) .I had a fabulous staff .Mrs Jagjit Kaur brought a touch of class to the staff –very elegant and always smiling .Abha Goel was the pusher –a bit of showperson ,but I could always rely on her when something needed to be done .Abha Sinha was a conscientious worker who did wonders with the Mont Deptt where she was ably supported by Debjani Sarkar .Then there was the round eyed Debjani Sen who loved to play the fool .One day I saw her dancing in the staff room all the time singing “yeh kaali kaali aankhen,yeh gorey gorey gaal”.I can never forget the expression on her face when she realized that I had been watching her all the while .She left subsequently and became a Central School teacher at Balaghat .There was also Poonam Krishnani-very petite was very strong willed ,who was not afraid to speak her mind .There was the sports teacher who also directed plays –Mr Shailendra Paliwal .Very talented and can you imagine I allowed him to direct a play called “Mera Gadhaa Banaa Collector”.!Why imagine ?Because our chief guest was the Collector .!!There were many more –the very sophisticated Nandini Trivedi,Vijaya Choudry ,Sunita Sharma (Maths)Mehroo Naqvi who migrated to NewZealand and with whom I had a telephonic conversation just a few weeks back .What a wonderful Commerce teacher .!There was also Johnson Verghese ,Kuldip Sagre(Music)who later joined the Indian Railways and Ram Asrey Dohare the librarian .There was also the mild and mellow Shamim Akhtar from Faizabad .A wonderful lady who taught Hindi and brought me my kababs and seewien on Id.!Very nice kebabs Mrs Akhtar –I still remember them every Id .Lily Saluja the lady with short hair (a la Princess Diana type)was also among the pioneers.I remember her husband who was a very interesting man,but sadly passed away in a road accident in Chandigarh .But leading the pack was the smart and attractive Dr Usha Ajay Singh from Lucknow .When we were interviewing her one of the experts (I think it was Dr Rajguru),got her bogged down on some concept of Chemistry.(she was a Phd in Chemistry) .I was more interested in her achievements in archery in which she had won medals .After the interview ,the panel thought she was overqualified for teaching in the school .And that she would quit .I held the opinion that Usha was a prize we could not afford not to win .She was selected .And what a contribution she made to the school .She stayed on till I was in Bhopal .Later she quit ,got selected in the Administrative Services and the last message I got from her were Diwali Greetings .She signed off by writing “Usha Ajay Singh.Collector ,Seoni”.You have travelled very far away Usha ,but you will never travel so far away that I will not be able to see you and remember you in my mind .And thank you for putting my dream into place in Bhopal .! There were the administrative staff also –Mr B.L.Aggarwal who was well into his seventies but still worked harder than all of us .He handled the accounts .Tariq ,along with Kalpana Bhatt supported him in his office work .Gokul ,Jagdish,Kamlesh and Guddi Bia were the peons .They worked laboriously and without complaining .Two housekeepers –Sunil and Mukesh made sure that the bathrooms and rooms never got dirty enough to catch my eye .I paced the corridors regularly and met all the parents .

The students were very keen to learn .We were a small school –only 900 kids when I left.I remember some students very vividly –Yashika Ahluwalia ,Biplop Sen,Sumit Dhaliwal ,Suman Kapoor(Kapoor Tent House),Raja Khullar(please some of you –could you provide me information of his whereabouts )Roli Saxena ,Srutika and Geetika Aggarwal (from Delhi-what a wonderful father they had)Pranav Seal(what a sportsman),Amisha Arora(what happened to her?)Mubina and Shireen Khan(am still in regular touch with Mubina ,though not with Shireen),Vineet Nair(now in London),the Correa brothers,Ahbhilash Sasi ,Bhavana Antrewala,the Richarayias,Vaibhav Khandekar and may more .It was a great school .We participated in many activities and we sent teams outside –to Lucknow for a international programme once .!!

Its not that the school did not have problems .I found myself under siege when a boy –Anil Neelkanth(maybe his first name could be wrong)committed suicide because he had failed in the exams .Everyone blamed it on the school and they wanted me to stay away from his funeral.But there was no way I was going to do that .It was like losing a son .I went for his funeral .I prayed for him .I offloaded what would have otherwise remained forever in my heart .I was also hounded for unfurling the national flag on the 14^th of August .The Unions took over and interpreted it as if I was celebrating Pakistans Independence Day.(Incidentally Inderjit Gupta the then Home Minister of India had done the same thing in the Bengali School ,Raisina Road ,Delhi!!)There was a huge gheroa,the press played it up by printing it in “reverse”(writing it in white against a black backdrop!)calling it a “bizarre act by a overenthusiastic Principal”!!It was torturous and I even applied for anticipatory bail.!But I was able to tide over all that with what I had learnt from life( the saying  “the worst of your fears and the best of your hopes seldom come true” became my favourite during those stormy days!) and and help from my friends and wellwishers.But one thing it did to me –it pitchforked me from oblivion to centrestage .Did I like that ?Maybe some of you who know me well can answer the question .!!

(Last part of the blog –friends ,places ,incidents .)

      

The Birth Of A Principal -Me !!

I stepped out of the Malwa Express at the Nishatpura Railway Station .I carried a single bag  .In it were 3 pairs of jeans ,7 shirts and my shaving kit and toiletries .Sangeeta had packed me aloo paranthas with acchaar(she was a young bride then –sorry she is still young,perhaps the word I should have used should be “a younger bride”!).I had protested when she put it into my bag “No need Sangeeta ,I am not going to Timbuktu.I will get something to eat there .After all ,I am going to Bhopal .Its the capital of Madhya Pradesh.”!But when Sangeeta wants to do something –she does it .Quietly ,firmly and unobtrusively .My marriage with her is a product of her determination .I respect it .

There was no one to receive the young Principal .I had been promised  that Mr Giri and Mr Vikas Srivastava would be there to receive me with a placard .I looked around ,could not find them ,and started looking at ways and means to reach Bal Bharati Public School .Immediately  at  the mention of the name of the school ,a gentleman named Karan Singh approached me . “Aap nayeh Principal Sir haih?”he asked .

“Nahin,maih pehla Principal huah .Ek nayeh school ka”,I said ,trying to give off my best smile .He was mighty pleased as he eyed me from head to toe .What must he have seen ?Well a clean shaven man (I had shaved in the train itself ),with longish jet black hair and slim.With eyes that never rested because they were always looking for new visuals .And emanating a whiff of a after shave .He must have also seen eyes that carried not a trace of bags under them .And eyes that did not need a pair of spectacles to read the “Times of India”,which I had bought at the Ganjbasoda railway platform .Yes ,I was just a few months short of my 34^th birthday .I was  among the select band of young school Principals who was asked to take over the helm of what at time appeared to have the makings of a good school .I was married ,and had a young son who had just started to crawl .Pratique was to take his first steps in the house of Dr Tandon our neighbor in Bhopal .Yes ,I had finally graduated from a teacher to a Principal .

Looking back now  with the advantage of hindsight,I often analyse why I went to Bhopal ?.Was I ambitious ?Or was it destiny that drove me there ?I think it was a mixture of both .I was fiercely ambitious .The Principals in the schools I studied and worked in always made me feel that I should be a Principal –taking Assembly and sharing ideas with teachers from a position where I would be ensured a audience .I was also inclined towards sports ,and one particular Principal Mr Bharadwaj always fascinated me with his sporting abilities .And his looks .I wanted to be like him.I wanted to be as charming ,as kind and as dashing as him .I wanted a grey beard .I wanted to meet dignitaries like he did .I wanted to have staff meetings which would reflect the gap between knowledge and wisdom .Sadly ,I never became like him .But ,I came to Bhopal with him as a role model .Maybe ,I should have concentrated being more like myself than him . That transition was to come in Jagdishpur .At Jagdishpur ,I finally became KULBHUSHAN KAIN.And in Jaipur I continued to look and project all that was locked up of what was left .When I could not open all the locks I came to Ahmedabad .But the journey started in Bhopal . Why it had to be Bhopal –well that is what I would term destiny .

The dream nearly turned sour before it began .Bal Bharati School was among the first private initiatives in the educational sector of the Indian Railways .Remember ,India was not what is today .It was heavily dominated by  government involvement in every sector –from making spacecrafts ,to television,to industry and schools were prerorgative of the govt .So when the Indian Railways signed a memorandum with the Child Education Society of Delhi to start two schools in their townships at Bhopal and Visakapatman ,it met with strong resistance from the Unions .!The Unions saw it as a backdoor entry of the private sector into the Railways .There was grafiiti all over the walls of the Railway Colony adjoining the school .One of them read “Private Pillaoh ko bahar karo”(ask the private puppies to get out).I could feel the tension and the ill feeling towards the concept .There was of course nothing personal about it .But to a upper middle class man who was educated in Delhi University and who had travelled abroad those days ,the question always begged the answer “Am I in the right place”.Sangeeta was to join me after I had got a house (I was staying in the Railways Officers Guest House for the first two months all alone )and the separation from her (whether newly married or married for 25 yrs now )for even a day seemed unjustified .But ,I kept my head level and luckily for me I had studied the history of the trade union movement in Europe as a paper in my M.A.and knew a bit about the why and how of it .As also the effect it could have in the short and long run.

But then one day something happened .It was May .It was hot .I sat in my incomplete office in the school with a teachers desk.Jaswant Singh the contracter from Delhi worked furiously in the school with his labour force to meet the deadline to supply the furniture to start the school by June end .I was busy trying to arrange a advertisement for recruitment of teachers .Gokul and Jagdish loitered around outside my office .They rushed in .They informed me that the Union leaders were coming to meet me .They warned me that I be careful how I dealt with them .Gokul my peon hardly used to speak .But when he spoke –one could not ignore him .He warned me that I should not say anything which they could twist and turn to their advantage .Perhaps ,he did not know what lay behind the smiling young Principals mind .He had not reckoned ,that though I was young for such a responsible job ,I was battle scarred from a number incidents and wars I had fought in my personal and professional life .

There were 5 of them –I still remember their names ,Viresh Tiwari,Sajjad Hussain,G.D.Mishra(sadly stabbed to death on Holi Day while I was in Bhopal),Mr Seal,and “takla” Saxena.They looked frightening –if I may be allowed to be honest .Saxena ,walked in first and without asking me and without even looking at me ,called  the others in .I was not used to this kind of  behavior .But I waited .In a crisis I am patient .I have the ability to think through a problem .It is my strength .I handle pressure well –very well .He shouted at Gokul . “Saale kursi lao.Dikh nahi raha hai ki hum paanch haih and sirf chaar kursi haih?”

The tragedy was that there weren’t 5 chairs .!!There were only 4 chairs –the furniture was being fabricated .They kept standing and then G.D.Mishra spoke “Pataa nahi ,kahan se bikhari pakar kar ley aaye”.!He was a welder from Bhadohi ,who subsequently became a great friend of mine .But on that hot May Day he was restless –like a cat on a hot tin roof .The tempers rose –or it was orchestrated to make me feel they were rising as they refused to sit unless the 5^th chair be produced .It was the turn of the young Principal to take over now .I got up from my seat ,and picked up my chair ,put it where they were standing and told them “Baithyeh-ab paanch ho gayi haih”.And then moved to where I used to sit ,but because I had offered my chair to them I had to stand ,and asked them

“Aap kaun hai ?Aur aap kya Chahateh hai?”.There was a pregnant silence .And the one of them spoke .And what he spoke was something which still sends shivers down my back .For not the first time in my life ,I felt vulnerable .But at other times I was never alone .I stood as lonely as a young tree in a storm .Nothing frightens me more than loneliness .Physical pain ,lack of sleep ,lack of food ,long hours of work –nothing frightens me more than loneliness .That day the storm of loneliness  lashed at me .What had I done wrong ?I had not even started anything ?Why were they saying what they were saying ?The previous night while I paced up and down my room in the rest house ,I had seen a strong mob outside the guest house .They had brought a dead body and had beaten doctor Aggarwal and his wife in front of my eyes .!!I had phoned up Sangeeta and asked her to withdraw my resignation .But Mr Baveja (my boss at the Child Education Society) had convinced me to stay on.

And stayed on I had .The battlelines had been drawn .I either quit –or stay on .I decided to fight .And when I do that –I am willing to stake everything on it .Including my life .A young Principal had been born .Was he a healthy child ?

G.D .Mishra spoke,slowly deliberately “Principal Sahib” he began “Aapko pataa haih………

(More of that  and the teachers and friends in Bhopal.)

Teaching -Then and Now .!!

We are on the eve of another teachers day .I am convinced that I am  aging and that is because I don’t seem to remember my first teachers day as a teacher !! .Its a tough ask if you have been in the profession for 35 years  .But at a macro level ,Teachers Day brings back a collective picture that has not changed –and that is of children taking over as teachers on Teachers Day !!The Headboy /Headgirl takes over as the Principal and gets to sit on the chair which most look up  at with awe .Then there is a small cultural show put up by the kids and one of my favourites was when some students tried imitating their teachers .I remember the very talented mimic Padamjeet Sehrawat (now a celebrity cricket commentator)bringing the house down with laughter and deafening applause as he imitated teacher after teacher .And of course the titles that the kids gave to their teacher .Amazingly appropriate .!!I simply loved each moment of it as I sat in the students gallery !!It was normally topped up with a sumptuous meal .

Much has changed in these 35 years .I think the quality of teaching has deteriorated .And  there are some reasons  for it.There is too much of legislation about what to do and what not to do .There is a amazing amount of paperwork -the CCE system has converted a teacher to a lower divisional clerk who has to maintain a plethora of complicated files which come under the scrutiny of a "inspector".!!.Business people and industrialists control schools who have never worked at ground zero level .If you are independent in your thinking you are termed "frustrated ". You cant use harsh words (psychological damage),and you are taught too much by phoney experts as to how to teach .I remember I did not have a Bed Degree till after having taught for 10 years and I did my Bed so that I became eligible to become a Principal !!Till now  I don’t understand the complex and high sounding words –ex pedagogy ,cognitive skills ,Pavlov Theory ,Maslow Theory etc -,and yet I think I was a reasonably good teacher .I still feel that a teacher must be allowed a free hand to teach in his/her own way  and spill out his/her  passion .The only thing one needs to observe in a interview when recruiting a teacher is whether a person  will be committed to his/her  job or not ,and whether he/she has a presence in class .Teachers are after all role models for the kids .One can mould ones personality in a particular way only when one is in school .Once you grow up then you cant have role models of your age because you will always consider them as your contemporaries .And once you go past lets say beyond 40 –you are too old to change .The real models must be your classmates who do extraordinary things in class or your teachers .When I sit in interviews ,I don’t look at the knowledge that someone is displaying.I look out whether the person will be able to influence a child with his/her  passion and personality .Unfortunately ,passion can never be found in persons who are constantly straight jacketed and who are overfed with instructions .It just kills the originality .Good teachers will seldom be “yes” persons .You will find them a bit eccentric because they do things differently .I knew  a  contemporary who gave negative marks in English !!For example you could get -35 in English !!And we had a damn good Principal who allowed him to do that .Bottom line –recognize what good teachers are all about ,don’t interfere in their work ,and please don’t treat them like babus .Unfortunately all the above seem to be missing these days .

Of course much has changed .The challenge to the teachers is from the internet .Kids are better prepared bcoz they now have access to knowledge at the click of a button  .Previously the repository of all knowledge was the teacher .The centre of gravity of learning was the teacher .If you wanted any information –it had to be via the teacher .The teacher was much sought after .But all that has now changed .And because children are quicker in grasping facts and retaining them (just like they can run and jump more than a aging teacher ),they tend not to rely too much on the teacher .Even we google to find out what a particular disease is all about and what is the cure for it –we sometimes don’t go to a doctor!!What the teacher must do is to constantly keep updating themselves about their knowledge base and also adapt to and adopt technology .Otherwise their image will continue to get a beating .

But all said and done –if you are a good  human being and you have a presence and you have a sufficient knowledge base –you will always be a valuable teacher .You cant beat the internet in knowledge .But you can beat it in the way you talk ,the way you smile ,the way you respond to a tragedy,the way you respond to success ,the way you stand up for a cause .The internet can never beat you to it .And that is what makes the teaching profession such a durable profession .And here is a lovely little poem about why a teacher is so valuable .You all must have read it somewhere .But it is worth reading it again especially since tommorow is Teachers Day .I quote from what a child wrote to his teacher

“When you thought I wasn't looking, you displayed my first report, and I wanted to do another.

When you thought I wasn't looking, you fed a stray cat, and I thought it was good to be kind to animals.

When you thought I wasn't looking, you gave me a sticker, and I knew that little things were special things.

When you thought I wasn't looking, you put your arm around me, and I felt loved.

When you thought I wasn't looking I saw tears come from your eyes, and I learned that sometimes things hurt--but that it's all right to cry.

When you thought I wasn't looking, you smiled, and it made me want to look that pretty too.

When you thought I wasn't looking, you cared, and I wanted to be everything I could be.

When you thought I wasn't looking--I looked...and

Wanted to say Thanks for all those things you did when you thought I wasn't looking.”

Yes teaching is not about teaching Maths ,History ,Science or other subjects .Its also about teaching how to live life .In todays world teachers tend to teach subjects  .But  sometimes the uneducated are the greatest of teachers .My maternal grandmother was one of them .Happy Teachers Day .!!God bless .

My Take On Life -Post 50 Years of Age

“I don’t ever remember ever  being aware of going past 50 years of age and being afraid of “oldness”.!

Of course there are  things I miss about being younger - chiefly  the ability to pull all-nighters,  and chasing the cricket ball   over  green  turf ,and  having chased it down to fine leg or third man boundary ,throwing it back with such power that it brought out dust from the wicketkeepers gloves .I miss taking on the young  “pretender” of my crown ,my son at the squash courts and and   at times not allow him even  a single point in 3 games .!! I miss being  smiled at by girls I didn’t know who thought I was cute; and I wish I had the eyesight ,and memory  I had even five years ago… But quite honestly  that stuff feels pretty trivial. 

I’m happier than I’ve been at any time in my life these days. I have a wonderful wife whom I adore, and who thinks I have looked after her well and who admires me for my intelligence and resilience.I have   watched my son grow into a amazing man, who is so steady that I wonder whether he  was  ever a teenager .I am proud of my ability to teach and to motivate .I am proud about the fact that people seek me out to speak on special occasions and at seminars .!!  I have real, true, glorious friends, and I’ve been able to do real good for things I care about, like freedom of speech, travel ,write ,eat and drink the best wines and whiskey .Sometimes I work from 8 am to 8pm ,and yet walk my customary 8 kms to test and surprise myself .! I love my grey hair and thank God that he hasnt thinned my hair .!!I have travelled the world and met and seen amazing places and people .

I miss friends who have died, but then, I’m glad that  life  gave them to me, to befriend, even for a while, and that I was alive to know them. I knew Uncle Sumra , and I knew Jasmeet Singh(Jassi), and I knew Ravi Parinja, and I knew the Austrian Airline Airhostess ……… do you know how lucky that makes me? You would never know that because for that you would have to be me .

 I know the downside of age and the downside of time, and I am sure that the view from age 55 is not the view from age 75.I know the  importance of  luck in life .I know that I was nearly given up as dead in a Delhi Hospital –but rose from the grave .I have been unlucky to be friends who I thought were fiercely loyal to me –only to find that they were just opportunists and were running with the hare and hunting with the hound .But I am mature enough not to spend my precious time on thinking much about them .I am sure they must have had their compulsions .Good luck to them .I am sure they also must be as happy as me –if not more .

I wish the time hadn’t gone so fast, though. And sometimes I wish I’d enjoyed it more on the way, and worried about it less.

I miss Dehradun.I have a special liking for it and haven’t spent more than 3 or 4 days in it at a stretch for nearly 40 years .As far as I am concerned ,it’s the best part of the world for me to be in .Its not about roads ,hospitals and the clutter that one sees in Dehradun these days .Its not even about the corrupt politicians who have taken the simple and poor people of the hills for a ride .Its also not about the forests that  have been denuded and the land mafia who have taken over most of the land .For me Dehradun is about a wonderful childhood  in the beautiful suburb of Clement Town .Its about taking a bus ride through lazy and traffic free roads from home to school .Its about Prem Singh ,our domestic help bringing us fresh and hot rajma  chaawal peppered with fresh hot desi ghee made from the cream of the milk of our own buffaloes .I can still get a whiff of the wonderful aroma of the food as I write .I miss that .I get back a bit of it when I go back to Dehradun once in a while .Yes ,I live a lot in the past .Why not ?I am not running away from unhappiness .I am going back to a glorious past .

I also miss the way cricket is played these days .Cricket has been a   obsession .But I miss the way it is played these days .Of course I haven’t divorced it simply because it is played in different color clothing and at night with white balls .But for someone who was brought up listening to John Arlott,Brian Johnston,Dicky Rutnagar ,Devraj Puri and  the other greats ,describing Tom Graveney ,Frank Worrel ,Vijay Manjrekar ,Patuadi ,Farrouk Engineer and others playing  -it appears rude to hear someone raise his pitch when a shot is hit for a boundary .I miss watching Sunny Gavaskar take on the handsome Imran Khan ,or the sight of a lazy Bishen Bedi twirl his hands over as if they were on well oiled ball bearings .It was a different game .I miss that atmosphere and that class .Never mind how hard people try to defend the modern game .

I miss my school and college .I went to a fabulous school and a even better college .We had fantastic Principals ,teachers and friends  .We did naughty things .We had our crushes on the girls from Convent Of Jesus and Mary and Indraprasta College .But it was in a different way we went about it .The cell phones ,the computers , the ipads –have killed romance and the thrill associated with it .

I miss the great aura and spell that the actors and actresses of the seventies cast on us .If you see some of the early movies of actors like Dharmendra,Rajesh Khanna ,Shashi Kapoor ,Vinod Khanna,Sharmeela Tagore ,Saira Banu,Gregory Peck ,Doris Day (Kay Sarrah Sarrah ,whatever will be will be,the future is not ours to see!!),Dilip Kumar ,Paul Newman …….you will surely agree that they were a sight for the Gods to see .Now everyone looks the same .They walk the same way ,they dress in the same way .I miss the great variety of the past stars .

But life has been kind .The most important part is, that there has been very little I haven’t experienced .I have experienced physical pain ,emotional trauma,loss ,failure, and at times life  has  made me  feel small .But God has given me more in terms of luxury,joy ,ecstacy,success and recognition .In school,  the kids made me feel like a celebrity .What life  holds for me  in the future –I don’t know .I am prepared for everything .And I don’t brood about the future ,because as Doris Day belted on the jukebox in Napoli Restaurant on Rajpur Road ,Dehradun, everytime I went there as a schoolboy

“Whatever will be will be ,

The future is not ours to see ,

Kay Sarrah Sarrah”  

Even I Have A "Khwaab"(Dream).

Dubai is a glittering city .And it has a glittering metro system .And in all that glitz –I was confused .I was at the Sharaf DG staion and wanted to board a metro to Burf Kalifa .I got my ticket ,swiped it and took to the escalator .Soon I was on the platform .It was amazingly clean and near empty .And it was supposedly rush hour -7.45 in the evening !!I was confused as to whether  I was on the right line or not .There are only two lines –but I did not want to board a wrong train .I wanted to confirm .I looked around to ask the question “Will this take me to Burf Khalifa”.?There was a coloured man who seemed totally smitten with his woman .They were clinging onto each other and looking into each others eyes .I avoided them .There was a Chinese guy who had his ears plugged and was obviously listening to music .There was  a group of ladies who were in burqas and I did not disturb them .Then I saw Munnawar .He got off the escalator ,carrying a small computer bag with him .He was about 45 ,balding and showing off his widows peak .He  looked tired and stressed .His eyes met mine .I talked in Hindi .

“Does this metro go towards Rashida ?(the last station on the way onwards toward Burj Khalifa.)

He spoke in chaste Punjabi

“Where do you want to go?”(Tussi kithe janaa  chandeh ho”)

My ears cocked up .A Punjabi in Dubai !!Wow !!It feels so nice to meet someone like yourself in a foreign land .

“From where in Punjab are you .I am from Hoshairpur”,I said .

“Our family is from Jullunder .We crossed over during the Partition”,he said .And then his eyes looked blank as he seemed to travel into space and time .He told me that though he had never gone back to Jullunder ,his father had grown up there .He also told me he had a Aunt who had migrated from Hoshairpur .I told him my side of the story .I told him that my father had studied medicine at the famous King Edwards Medical School at Lahore and that my father in law was from Gujranwallah .He was thrilled

“My wife is from Gujranwallah”, he said .

I asked him what he was doing in Dubai .He was working for a Security Agency in a senior position .He was a resident of Karachi ,and was living alone in Dubai .He did not like Dubai .He told me that he was prone to bouts of homesickness and had just returned back from Pakistan .I asked him the obvious question .

“Why don’t you work in Pakistan”?

It touched a raw nerve .He spouted venom at the political structure in Pakistan .He told me how unsafe it was for anyone to work or walk around in Pakistan .He also told me how shadowy people who claimed to be agents of the ISI or the Taliban extort money from ordinary people .He also told me as to how beautiful women are taken away at night and dropped back in the morning after being raped .He spruced it up with the choicest of Punjabi abuses .!!And then he looked at me and said,

“India is a heaven compared to Pakistan .It is a super power .If it has guns ,tanks ,nuclear missiles ,it also has tomatoes ,rice ,industries ,agriculture ,5 Star Hotels and Malls .You have a guy called Arnab Goswami .I am sure you have seen and heard him .My God –look at the way he talks to your politicians ,Army Generals ,bureaucrats ,anyone .You have democracy. Pakistan only has guns and a sham democracy !!”

I was quiet for a minute .I absorbed the praise .I realized that I came from a amazing country .I realized how important democracy was .More for the poor ,because even if injustice is being meted out to them –they can speak up .The Press will pick it up .People will rally around Durga Shakti .Or Nirbhay .There is always hope in a democracy like  we have in India .Not a single South Asian country started with democracy –be it Singapore ,Malaysia ,Pakistan ,SriLanka .No other country can boast of the right of people to slander anyone and get away with it .Everyone is a Arnab Goswami (if one chooses to be ),in ones locality,state or province .!!I realized all that at the Sharaf DG Station .

He looked at me .He spoke again – in Punjabi .He looked at the sparkling lights of Dubai .The Burj Khalifa jutted out into the sky in the distance .The skyline of the city looked like drawings of tall buildings in bold colors.In the station the crowd had swelled up .There were Asians ,Africans ,Chinese ,Arabs ,Europeans.The world seemed to be compressed into the metro station .Munnawar spoke as the metro pulled into the station .

“Sir ,I have a “Kwaab”(dream),that one day people from all over the world will come to India and Pakistan to take part in its economy .We should be giving them employment and not the other way around .But it is a “Khwaab”!!I know it wont happen in our lifetime .”!!

I had the final word just as the metro pulled in and the doors opened .

“Munnawar –even I have a “khwaab”.A “khwaab”  that one day India and Pakistan will become one .Your father was from Jullunder and my father and father in law were from Lahore and Gujranwallah .We got separated in 1947.I have a kwaab that one day it will change .But I know it wont in my lifetime “

The metro compartments doors opened .I ran towards one that appeared less crowded .Munnawar ran toward another .He looked over his shoulder and gave me a thumbs up .I clasped both my hands above my head –signifying unity and friendship .And the I lost him .We were separated .

Just like our families were in 1947 .We called it Independence .!!

Does It Matter?

“ As terrorism spread its footprint across India through the 1990s and first decade of the new century, reaching a horrific, televised climax in Mumbai when gunmen, armed and trained in Pakistani sanctuaries , a dilemma has ebbed and flowed through the tides of Indian public opinion. Can outlaws be contained through the binding laws of a liberal democracy ? Should right to life, a fundamental tenet of our Constitution, be extended to those who kill innocents , arbitrarily, bomb buildings, hijack aircraft, or target places of worship in order to inject poison into the demographic veins of India? Theory has the good fortune of living in a black-and-white textbook . Reality is grey. Terrorists thrive in shadow wars, protected by a paradox: since they are out of uniform, they can always claim innocence until the moment they pull a trigger. We forget the number of alibis that were floated even after something as self-evident as the 2008 Mumbai attack and some were repeated in Parliament by a Cabinet minister in the UPA government. Our security forces have to hunt in such treacherous fog. Their job is to succeed before the trigger is squeezed, to find Indira Gandhi’s and Rajiv Gandhi’s assassins before they have succeeded, and to stop a thousand attacks on civilians during a festival or any other day.””(M.J.Akbar)

 When 19-year-old Ishrat Jahan was killed by the police way back in 2003 (?),there was a whimper . There was  no standard response. Most people have probably chosen their sides over Ishrat Jahan. The CBI’s chargesheet is enough for those who believe she is guiltless. Others stress the IB version that David Headley, convicted of terrorism, mentioned her name; or wonder what she was doing in the company of three men recognized, even by the CBI, as terrorists.The storm has once again gathered as the elections beckon people who love power .First the Ministry of Home Affairs said that she was a terrorist and now they have backed off saying that they cant part with what they shared with the Americans about Headleys statement .The game is very simple –Ishrat was shot dead for whatever reasons .Now over her dead body others are  trying  to get a pot shot at one of Indias most dynamic men .(Please keep in mind what M J Akbar has written above ).The simple question that remains unanswered is –what actually  was she doing with 3 criminals ?The bodies of two of them were never claimed because the mouthpiece of the LeT had acknowleged that all 4 were on their rolls .It took them 2 years to say they had made a journalistic error !!Why would the police kill 4 of them ?From all accounts (if it was a planned encounter),it took a lot of logistics and planning to stage it .Were they not convinced that these 4 were out on a mission to kill the CM of Gujerat ?And if they were certain about the motive –should they have waited for them to pull the trigger ?These are some questions that need to be answered and not politicized .I saw first hand the anti Sikh riots of 1984 .I was a married man when my brilliant I.A.S brother in law was shot by terrorists in Patiala.I have very little sympathy for terrorists or suspected terrorists   

Only one thing is  very clear in this ding dong battle of the vultures as they try to feed off the remains of those who were killed .None of them is interested in the truth .To hell with it .It never mattered when Sikhs were massacred in the aftermath of the assassination of Mrs Gandhi .One had to hop over dead bodies to reach a particular house in Trilokpuri .Everyone saw who were leading the assassins as they shouted the same slogans as the mobs in Naroda Patiya .Grieving mothers clutched on to young lives before being sliced like butter  with a hot knife .Yes ,we very conveniently forget the past the moment the next horrendous riot takes place .We should set up museums in Godhra ,Naroda Patiya ,Trilokpuri -highlighting the cruel march of time on those fateful days .Like the Americans and the Western World have done to build museums to highlight the holocaust that was unleased on the Jews .But nothing happens here . The lawyers who are fighting the cases are interested in the big buck .The egoistic TV journalists are interested in the TRP ratings .The police are interested in getting medals or settle scores with people who think differently from the way they think .And the political parties are interested in making it a “secular” vs “communal “ issue .So sad that the mighty value of truth is buried in the greed and manipulations of the small human mind . A  simple  reality has been converted into a legal issue of FIRs and Chargesheets. A  complex reality has emerged turning the issue into a  campaign fodder in election season. Politics is the petrol that can turn such a fire into conflagration.

We sit and watch .Helplessly .At the moment it doesn’t concern us –does it ?I would rather watch “Bhaag Milkha Bhaag” tomorrow and go out to the Marriott for dinner tonite .

Pran , Movie Halls ,Dehradun -A Slice From The Past-Part 1

Whenever a great actor passes away ,I remember Dehradun .Funny?And what is the link ?!!

I was not born in Dehradun ,but I grew up in it .And my father chose to settle down in the city after giving it a long thought .Like all refugees ,he and his brothers had moved out of Punjab after the Partition .My Chacha,and my Taujis had settled in that haven for refugees –Delhi .But my father being empowered with a medical degree from the King Edwards Medical College ,Lahore  ,went to Burma (modern day Myanmar)and became a successful doctor –specalizing in surgery .It was in Burma that all of us were born while  he moved from one district to another .I have very strong visuals of his last posting at Myingyan ,which was (and I am sure still is) a part  of the Mandalay Division .Incidentally ,from my mothers side ,her father and his brothers (also from Punjab before partition),had migrated to Burma and settled down in Mandalay .There my Nanaji and his brother ran a very successful sweet shop .It was this connection of my Dad going to Burma as a doctor and my mother being there already in Mandalay ,that probably settled the marriage issue .They were married in India in the district of Hoshairpur (Hajipur ,Talwara),from where my mothers family hailed .

A part of Guro Bhavan where i grew up .It faces the main road .

I have some memories of our stay and  my father in Burma –he seemed to be all the time in the hospital .And when he was at home ,he would always encourage us to travel with him in our Landrover to various districts .He has a penchant for wearing hats(not caps )  and smoking cigars .A desi “angrez” if ever there was one .!!My brother and two elder sisters went to the Mount Hermon School in Darjeeling (a residential school ),,and that left me and my other two sisters  with Mom and Dad .We had lots of cats and dogs and dad liked going to the golf course and enjoying his drink –whiskey at night and when he played on a Sunday afternoon –beer .He oozed charm and mixed freely with everyone –especially women .My mother developed hypertension and was soon confined to the bed most of the time .Those days ,hypertension was considered a killer disease because the medicines available now were absent then .She survived on “Serpasil” and “Adelphane”,which were considered life savers .I remember her popping “Equanil” every night to facilitate her sleep .I can imagine now what all she must have gone through in her fight against the disease .But we had ample amount of servants and she ran the house by giving verbal instructions .She was very pretty and had a robust commonsense .

The beautiful trees which dot the boundary wall .

Entertainment those days was limited .There was no television to start with .We depended largely on radios which were huge in size .The bigger the radio –the more affluent you were supposed to be !!We had a big Murphy and Phillips radio .We also had a huge Grundig Tape Player which worked when we put huge circular tapes on it !!The transistor made its appearance somewhere down the line .On Wednesday we would all crowd around the Radio and hear the racy and melodious voice of Ameen Sayani  entertain us and welcome us by saying "Bhaiyon aur Bhenoh,Ameen Sayani aapka phir se Binaca Geet Mala me swagat karta hai " .It was aired on “Radio Ceylon”!!Later on when the TV  made its appearance ,we would all crowd around it to hear the naughty looking Tabbassum entertain us with “Chitrahaar”.We would all make sure that our food was over and done with before 8 pm .And sometimes when there would be a electricity failure ,we would moan and curse the department .

The other form of entertainment were the weekly movies which we went for .And that is the reason that I remember Dehradun whenever a actor of that era passes  away .Movies were not made the way they are these days –by dozens and hundreds .And one did not see movies like you kids see it these days –partly eating food ,partly smsing ,partly talking ,partly talking over cell phone while watching it .In the sixties and seventies movies were not available on videos or computers or even cell phones .There was only one place where we could see the movie –in the movie hall .I now appreciate  the difference between theatre and movies in the modern age .There is only one place you can watch the theatre –its in the theatre !!You cant watch it on a video .Last year when I was in London ,we watched a musical in a theatre .It was cramped ,it was crowded and it reminded me of the movie halls of Dehradun .And thank God ,the Brits have a love for tradition .Though the physical size of the population has grown ,the distance between the rows in the theatre  is still the same .It doent matter if you have longer legs –they wont revamp the 150 year old  theatre near Oxford Street !!Sadly ,many movie halls have dissappered in Dehradun –Laxmi,Digvijay ,Capri ,Odeon ,Victory Cinema (in my beloved Clement Town).They have been replaced by the Malls. But in them we saw ,and fell in love or hated the great stars of our times .In them I saw Pran ,in movies like Gumnaam(Gumnaam hai koyi ,badnaam hai koyi!) Jab Jab Phool Khiley(ek thaa gul aur ek thee bulbul-oh la la!),Upkar (what a amazing song –“Kasme wade pyar wafa sab  ,batein hai batoh ka kya, Koyi kisi ka nahi ye jhoothhe, Naate hain naato ka kya),Johnny Mera Naam,(pal bhar ke liyeh koi mujse pyaar kar le -jhootah hi sahi- dear dear me so desperate !),Love In Tokyo (Sayonara ,Sayonara,kal phir miloongee Sayonara)  ,etc .I still remember every scene ,and not because I have a good memory .I remember the stars and the movies because going to a movie was as big a occasion as going to attend a relatives wedding !!One cant forget occasions like those .And you cant forget the place where such events took place .And  you cant forget the hero and heroine of the wedding –the bride and the bridegroom .For us the movie halls were like  the venue of the weddings, where the bride and the bridegroom were the Saira Banus , the Nandas,the Vijayantimalas ,the Sadhanas ,the Asha Parekhs ,the Mumtazs .And the bridegrooms were Rajesh Khanna ,Dev Anand ,Shammi Kapoor,Raj Kumar or Pran,Raj Kapoor ,Dilip Kumar  .They were a part of our living –and living with joy .It was a occasion that was not meant to be taken casually .Infact before the movie programme was made ,a lot of anticipation and preparation went into it .Thats why each movie left behind it not only memories of the story and the plot –but also very strong allied memories .Pran was not just a actor .He was a part of our essential being .Thats why when he (or for that matter some other actor passes away ),they  take  away with them  a bit of our childhood .

More about that connect in my next blog .

Schools.Will We Need Them 5 years From Now ?

 We live in times which are like shifting sand .Nothing is static even for a day and are changing at a pheneomenal pace .If one brought back to life doctor who had lived in the 80s ,he would not be able to understand what was happening in the operating theatre .He would be watching a  patient all wired up to a computer  watching his operation on a screen ,a few members of his family would  be clutching at his hands and the doctors would be using computers and lasers for operating him .Ditto with a lawyer .He would not be conversant with the laws that have changed –cyber laws !!-and he would have to know how to use technology to find the listing of his case .Even a man who kept his money in a bank .If by chance he went to a bank ,he would be surprised to find hardly anyone there .Gone would have been the queues.!!Why ?Because all accounts are being managed online and money is no longer withdrawn by standing in a line and handing over a cheque !!Its with a swipe of of the credit card !!Same with ticket bookings –train ,airlines ,hotels ,movies,restaurants etc .He would also find rickshaw wallahs and small children with cell phones and IPads .And restaurants in which people hardly talked while eating –so busy were they on their iphones and blackberry’s texting messages and accessing yahoo,google or even watching live cricket or porn !!

But wait .!!If he were to make his way into a school (the normal school ),he would find himself completely at home .He would find crowded classrooms ,he would find chalk duster and blackboard ,and he would find  the teacher teaching with his/her  back facing the class because he/she is writing something on the board all the time  from a NCERT text  book which was published about 5 years ago . There might be a few changes in the History chapters ,but that would be because the government had changed and wanted History to be taught in the way its think tank interpreted it (communal vs non communal!!).

Its the only profession that hasn’t changed at the pace at which the world has changed .A Ambassador Car of the 60s on the track of Formula 1 Racing .!!

Why ?This is so because of many reasons .Briefly

1.We still  live in a era of “brick and mortar schools”.Schools such as ours are a  product of the age of the industrial revolution-where things were mass produced .So you put 50 students into a class ,assume all of them will grow at exactly the same pace ,and  have the same skills  .At the end of the 33 weeks ,the product will be ready ,will be stamped(in the form of a result),there will be some defective pieces,there will be some  “seconds”,and you have done the job .To hoodwink the masses ,you will introduce CCE which increases largely  meaningless  work and to manipulation . (Ask any teacher and many Principals ).

2.This kind of  system envisages more students than teachers .The teacher if dedicated tries his/her best to teach in a way that most children are able to comprehend bits and pieces of the “transferred” knowledge .However due to compulsions of the system it ignores children who march to a different beat .The net result is that advanced students are bored in school and want to move faster ,while struggling students fall further and further behind .Education is “customized” for mass production.

The above is the model that prevails in 99 percent of the schools. Schools were built on the presumption that teachers and knowledge were in short supply .Hence everyone had to go to a school to get "scarce" knowledge .They were also built on the presumption that everyone of a particular age had equal capabilities.But all that has changed .Knowledge is freely available on the Web and is in abundance .And we cant continue to see schools where children come to study from a narrow content list and knowledge through books published 4 years ago .Knowledge on the net is doubling every 10 hours (by the time some of you read it that figure of 10 may further reduce!!),and google.com gets 2.4 billion (yes billion!!)hits per day .

The great tragedy in our schooling system is that we  do not have a window open for “intrinsic”,needs .Very few students are allowed by the parents to pursue something like dance ,music ,fine art or rifle shooting .When I told my father once that I wanted to be a painter ,he laughed and said “Better to be cobbler .At least you are sure to get some work .Everyone wears shoes that may need repair .All your paintings will remain in the attic”.The attitude hasn’t changed amongst the schools and parents .Somehow a Physical Instructor is valued much less than a English or Physics teacher .Why?Becuase those are the subjects that get you the jobs .Hence our education system is “extrinsic”-it is catering to the external demand of the market.It is governed by laws of supply and demand .It is not linked to give boost to “intrinsic” needs –music ,dance,sports ,friendship .There is only one Principal I know who has the background of being a Physical Health Instructor .And one who is a theatre personality .And one who is painter .We don’t value intrinsic needs .We live in the age of the machine and technology .And machines and computers don’t have emotions .To use them you have to be tech savvy .And that is where the nature of schooling will move to in the next 5 years I feel .Laws will overtake values .Right and wrong (value),based on moral precepts will be overtaken by law .If you violate a law you will be punished .You wont be counseled .Counsellers will be replaced by lawyers !!

At the moment all the above looks very far fetched .It is not in our hands to stop change .When the time for a “idea” to be born has come –it will be born .The idea of technological change has already been born .The baby will soon grow up .

What would future  classes be like ?

1.Educational Innovations will take place LARGELY outside traditional classrooms

 2.Over a period of time education software will play a larger and larger role ,until the schools are no longer necessary .

3.Students will continue to gather with their local friends in a building called a “school”.(The word “school” wont go away).

4.Learning in these “schools” will be determined by learning style ,ability ,and personal interest rather than the syllabus set by the schools.

The above will happen or is bound to happen because of a depletion of oil .In 5 years time the prices of oil  and traffic on the roads ,will be so high that it would be impossible for children to be able to commute over long distances .The transportation charges  will be 3 times the cost of tuition fee .All that is not going to be sustainable .

We need to recognize the fact that we have gone beyond the age of the “INDUSTRIAL REVOLUTION”.We live in a age of the “TECHNOLOGICAL REVOLUTION”.The future has to belong to “INTERACTIVE ONLINE EDUCATION”,which has to be better than todays education software which is nothing better than “GLORIFIED FLASH CARDS “. ONLINE Education will allow for classes to be customized to a students particular style .

And  computerized systems will enable us to deliver continuous assessments to students.

I know many of you who are reading  will find it childish and queer when I write  all this .I also know that there will be questions that many of us who believe that change will take place wont be able to answer .Its impossible to be able to structure the future and in a debate the one who is predicting is always going to be on the losing side to the one who is arguing about the past and providing the facts .But technology has its own dynamics .The radios confined us to a room where we needed a plug point .The solid state transistor made it possible for us to move around the house or carry the transistor with us to parties and picnics .Remember Murphy Transistor?Then we got into the world of pocket transistors .Ditto with typewriters ,PCs ,laptops ,ipads ,notebooks etc .Same with phone .And the same will happen in the world of education.The technological changes will provide solutions to sustain it (the change).Remember

Karl Marxs concept of the substructure being sustained by a superstructure ?Infact it is already happening .Online schooling is very successful in some parts of the world .Salman Khan (no –not our Salman Khan )  who runs the highly successful  Khan Academy,in America , a free online education platform and non profit organization  has produced more than 4,000 video lessons teaching a wide spectrum of academic subjects, mainly focusing on mathematics and the sciences. As of May 2013, the Khan Academy channel on YouTube attracted 1,000,000 subscribers and the Khan Academy videos have been viewed over 268 million times.

I feel we all need to accept the realities .We may or may not like technology (I don’t ),but it is not a matter of choice .It has become a compulsion .

To answer the question as to whether there would be schools like the ones we have now in the future ,the answer is yes and no .Yes for those who have to be told what to do and no for those who will lead the world and tell us what to do .The children of today know more about everything than most of us .And I am suere you must be aware about it  whenever your computer or cell phone runs into trouble !!You always turn to your kid –because  by default he/she was born into technology .My grand nephew is already running his fingers over a Android phone !!He may never go to a brick and mortar school .And even if does –his kids wont .This much  I am sure about .

Because he does not want to go into the Formula I Race ,driving a Ambassador Car .!!