Voices

I went through the forest, gun in hand,

T’was night, so I had a night-vision-band,

The jungle was the Sunderban,

And if I saw a tiger, I would run,

Then the grass shivered and I froze,

As the Royal Bengal Tiger rose,

I dropped my gun, a real bad thing,

The tiger’s eyes went bling-bling

Then slowly it walked forward and looked at me,

Then rubbed itself against a tree,

It took a step forward and seemed to smile,

As if saying, “I watched you all this while.”

Another mighty step and it licked me

And said, “Go you are free”.

-Antara, Class VI

 

 

Ideal choice

When I discussed the concept of ideals with friends and colleagues, each of them very generously narrated how their parents, teachers, the right kind of movies, biographies, speeches, novels, etc reinforced carving of their personalities. I just had to broach the topic and I saw a stance of excitement and a glimpse of pride in their proactive narrations (which was natural owing to the fact that most of them are quite well placed in life). Each one of them started with something like ‘Right from my childhood...’ or ‘since I remember....’; looking somewhere in infinity and getting nostalgic about the influence of significant people. During each narration, I could strongly sense the swaying of an image which was trying hard to solidify itself in my vision. The image was of a large rock being sculpted slowly, meticulously and meditatively. The hands were the hands of destiny.

As I ruminated over the nostalgic, romantic, positive testimonies of people for the next few days, the image of the rock wouldn’t leave me and I was left with a strange feeling; a feeling of incompleteness. Something didn’t seem to match between the narrations and the rock image; something in the jigsaw was still missing and the real beauty was still in veil. Finally in one insightful moment, I realised that all my narrators spoke about how they chose their ideals (sometimes their current Gods), how were the influences of situations and people who walked into their lives. So they spoke of additions in their lives. The image of the rock being sculpted, however, was all about subtracting the unwanted part of the rock to reveal the sculpture finally.

The contrast between the narrations and my image forced me to ponder over a few essential questions. In the process of being carved and shaped, what part of us did we leave behind? We speak about the ideals we still look up to or cherish. But were there those people whom we once looked up to and then outgrew in the course of time? Similarly, are there situations which seemed very crucial in the past and which seem equally trivial today? Then the intrigue of knowing the process of rejection and outgrow is what led me to ask these 

questions to a few of the same friends. There I could see the flavour of realism slowly making its presence felt amidst the rest of the narration.

 

 

 

The influences that come from the outside may create dreams, aspirations, enthusiasm and hope. But for this to sustain, solidify and become a part of our life, we go through questioning our ideals, separating, sieving and then accepting them or rejecting them. Both these processes together create us. I remember a quote by Sir Winston Churchill, “Any man who is under 30, and is not a liberal, has not heart; and any man who is over 30, and is not a conservative, has no brains”.

A human developmental theorist might add to the above quote by saying, “If a person rejects a strong ideology at 35 and if he or she returns to it at 50, then the chances are high that he or she will contribute something significant to the ideology”. The content and process of what we accept and reject tells a lot about us. A few examples will make the thought clearer

1. A teenage boy feels very impressed by his young physics teacher and falls in love with the subject (open acceptance). When he is older, he realises that his teacher was very limited in his content and finds his admiration faulty (questioning). After a little frustrated introspection he knows that when he got impressed, it had to do more with the style of teaching and not with the content (separation and sieving). In future, he tries to emulate the same style of teaching to teach his own children, creating passion in them (insight and individualisation).
2. A young woman from a village has always looked at Mumbai as a city of her dreams which she has never visited (idealisation). She finishes her graduation in the village and wishes and waits to get a job in Mumbai. One day, in response to her application, she is called for an interview in Mumbai (opportunity). In one single day of her visit, she loses her money, she is not able to board crowded trains and buses and when she reaches the place of the interview, she is called in last because she has missed her turn. She gets very upset (negative experience). After coming back to her own village, she tells herself that Mumbai is an insensitive place, and anyway her life motto is ‘simple living with simple dreams’ (intellectualisation) Finally, very subconsciously she looks down upon anyone who aspires to be in Mumbai and more so if the person is successful at achieving it (projection).

It is needless to say whether which of the above is a more adjusted personality. Ideals keep moving in and out of our lives. But the processes of observation, questioning, outgrowing (sometimes even our parents and mentors) and retaining actually reveal a well carved ‘I’ from within us.

-Suchitra Inamdar 

Water

This liquid is a refresher,

We call it water!

Without this life-giver,

Earth would have no survivor,

So save this nectar,

Or there will be no flowing river,

Which would cause and draught

And pain in the liver.

-Stash Lawrence, Class V

 

Europe Trip

-Haardik Mehta, Class XI

This September it was our (Class XI’s) turn to go to Europe, to a Waldorf school in Germany, just like Class XI and XII had gone a year earlier. This was the first time Rayan and I went to a school trip unaccompanied by a teacher. I think the school eventually trusted us to go alone.

We stayed in a small town in South-Western Germany called Freiburg. After a tiring 21 hour journey from Mumbai to Frankfurt we were hit by an unexpected extreme cold, which succeeded in making us numb. At the Freiburg railway station a parent from the German Waldorf school welcomed us.

For the first night we stayed together at the house of the school administrator who was primarily responsible for us being in Germany. I don’t think we did anything as such that night as we were very tired after the long flight and only craved for warm blankets and the soft beds.

We were supposed to attend two weeks of school in one of Freiburg’s Waldorf schools. It was surprising to learn that in a town that is 1/8^th area of Mumbai and has a population of only about 1,50,000, there are four Waldorf schools! The school we were to attend was the oldest of the four, standing firmly for over 60 years. Since it was a German school the teaching was done in German, except for the English Class which was Partially German too. Despite the teachers and students not being very fluent in German we were always made to feel at home. There was always a feeling of being welcomed, just like it is at our school. I think it is because of the Waldorf way of education, which has made all the Waldorf students welcoming and caring.

There were of course a lot of differences between that school and ours and I personally found some things missing in our school as a Waldorf school. One major aspect was keeping waldorf education running till the very end of schooling, that is, till their 13^th year of school. In the 12^th year, they complete projects from stone, clay, wood, metal or any other artistic form. It is almost as if an entire year is devoted to show what you have learnt since childhood in a Waldorf system. I personally like clay-modelling, sculpting, woodwork, etc. which are stopped after the 8^th grade.

I have always wanted to cycle to school every morning, but considering the situation in Mumbai it has never been possible. However, what made the dream-come-true cycling even more of a chilling and unforgettable experience was that temperatures in the morning dropped to as low as 5 degree Celsius. It was better once the sun was out of course and at times after the chilly morning it did feel like an oven. It was only after I landed in Mumbai did I realise how much better it was there.

Coming back to the trip; I never felt home sick since I had a lovely German family to host me. They took care of me as if I were a part of their family. They made us visit different parts of the country. They took us to a house in the middle of a meadow where we stayed for three days and it was a wonderfully freezing experience. We also went to France for a few hours to visit a “Concentration Camp” and that was such a great experience; seeing all the things we had learned about and realising how real it was. It felt amazing.

We were also taken to the Goetheanum and Art museums in the town, however the most exciting part and our favourite was when we went to see a live football match! There was so much cheering and excitement, just like how it is when Indians go to watch a cricket match.

I have a lot of stories about the trip, it is something that cannot be expressed and it has more feeling than words or descriptions. For those of you who still have years for Grade eleven, it is going to be a memorable and brilliant experience where you will find your own feelings.