Letter to a Father

Dear Mr Aubrey Alexander Bond

It is  Father's Day today and I thought of you. Most of the readers of Ruskin Bond often think of you fondly. We are told all about you; the joyful Jamnagar days, your stamp collection and life in barracks with him. Forgive us as we have even read some of the letters you wrote to your son. I relate more to you because I'm a parent and think that you must know all about your son as you left him too early

The shock and pain of your demise was  huge for little Ruskin. His headmaster made it worse by stealing all the letters you sent him that he gave him to keep safely. When he went back to Dehra for vacation, no one came to receive him.You must have imagined his plight during your illness as you knew your relatives well. He did not get the love and care he deserved as a child, but the habit of reading you had inculcated  helped him ignore the harsh world. You will be delighted to know that he was the library in-charge of his school, so found solace in the world of books. As you kept showering blessing upon him from somewhere, he kept meeting people who gave him good times, books and cookies; Vu, a young girl from Vietnam, Bibiji, Miss Kellner and Mrs Chill, not so young girls in Dehra, to name a few. He has been a loyal friend to young and old with equal ease. 

No little boy likes the boarding school, but as they grow up they get habitual, so did Ruskin. He made good friends in school. Some of them had to leave the school overnight during the partition of India in 1947, as they came from the other side of the border  which was mindlessly drawn by a certain Cyril Radcliffe. I did not see  much by him on the Partition of India, though he  wrote  a book called 

Flight of Pigeons with the background of the  revolt of 1857. Revolts, partition of a country, politics, economy are not the topics he chose to write, but  beautiful things of nature; i, e. about ladybirds, leopards, dewdrops, rivers, flowers, and small towns of India.  His simple and charming prose is alluring to all age groups. I am his avid fan, so is my student in class 2. No wonder he won three Padma Awards highest civilian honours of India. 

Did he marry? You must be eager to know. He didn't, but he does have a lovely family. 

Prem worked for him when he came to settle down in Mussoorie, more than four decades back. Prem's children and grandchildren were born and grew up in your son's care. Now all of them make a great family that he adores. He is one of us now. He could easily be a Ramesh Baduni or any other Garhwali grandpa, if we just ignore the colour of his skin. Adorable, isn't it?

Mr Bond is an octogenarian now, but for his readers, he is an eight year old in a boarding school, a teenager in a dingy room in London saving money for a typewriter, winner of  a high flying prize at 18.

We readers can never replace the love you would have showered upon him, but we love him a lot, as we know him so thoroughly. His books are the gems we revere. He is in our textbooks, in our bookshelves, in the columns of national daily newspapers, and in our hearts. A role model for the authors, who want to live like him, but you need courage to find happiness in little things in life.

I can go on and on about your favourite child and his ever loving daddy. There is so much to share. Someday we all will sit together and talk about your Shimla rickshaw ride, stamp collection and many more things.

With regards,

Appeared in the newsletter, 'Bonding over Bond' 5th October '21

Far, But Not Apart

March 2020 had proved to be the cruelest month when Corona arrived in India. Teachers were all set to conduct the final exams, which were cancelled, and all the students were promoted.

The venomous virus refused to beat a retreat even after the summer break and the sign of normalcy looked bleak. After a lot of brainstorming, we decided to make videos of the chapters as well as worksheets to keep the classes going. Smartphones have become the lifeline of the education system. Looks like the most apt oxymoron that has ever existed. The most hated object in the schools is now holding the ladder.

Classroom teaching is interactive and fun if we think of the cheerful and energetic 6 -7-year-olds. Now I am talking to the monitor while recording English and EVS chapters. I became the director, scriptwriter, editor, sound recordist, dubbing artist and cameraman overnight! The quote "Good teaching is 1/4 preparation and 3/4 theatre." sounded so true. There were frustrating moments when I had to redo the whole video just because of a slip of tongue. Gradually it became easy with many apps and smartphone features.

Online classroom is quite like the real classroom. Same innocent faces who trust their teachers more than anyone else. I reserved the last 5 minutes of the class for general discussion. Soon my students adapted to the classroom rules like; mute/unmute the device, waiting for their turn to speak etc I wish our parliamentarian learnt a lesson from them. They shared their happy thoughts and fears. Some of them wanted me to meet their younger siblings, which I was so happy to do.

We discussed the chapters in the Meet and conducted exams through google forms. Asked them questions in What’s App video to ensure that they have grasped the concept, but we did miss our classroom ambience, subtle jokes, lab and games periods and last but not the least –tiffin time.

Mothers who used to drop and pick their kids at the school gate were sitting next to them in the classrooms. Their support and hard work should be saluted. Most of them have toddlers and old parents at home who need to be looked after, still we kept getting the HW and projects on time.

Lockdown is trying us all. We all have challenges to face. Yours truly had planned and managed a big, fat Indian wedding at home during the last academic session, juggling between classes and shopping. The hectic schedule without a domestic help was common to all my friends who are teachers.

We all hope and pray that this virus vanishes soon. Till then we are trying to keep the morale of our kids high by keeping them engaged in studies and answering their queries. But, I never feel so speechless and helpless when in the Google Meet a child raises his hand, unmutes his device and asks, “Ma’am hum school kab aayenge?” (when would we come back to school?)