My Hindi tutor Akka

Hindi language was part of the mandatory school curriculum from class five onward.  To me, English was the chosen 'first language' and optional 'second language' was Hindi preferred over our spoken tongue, Kannada.  My paternal aunt who had passed some examinations many years before, admitted me.  Her friend Miss Leela was a Hindi teacher in the same Convent School where she also had studied. 

Hindi was Greek to me.  We found English to be manageable.  Slow-learners like me were sent for private 'tutions' after our school to learn better. Either the tutor came home or we went to the tutor's house. In my case it was the latter.

My Hindi tutor was an old soft-spoken widow, fondly called as 'Akka' by everyone.  She had a fine reputation as a good teacher.  A few school boys and girls in the nighbourhood went to her at their convenient times, 5 or 6 days a week, with each session lasting about half an hour.

Akka was living with her son's large family in a small rented out-house of a large house adjacent to ours.  The few years they were here was the longest among their other tenancies in very close vicinity, where also I used to go.  It was also a wonderful time for me, because two of her grandsons were in our playgroup and I used to go there as freely as our home.  Such was the liberty in those days.  Few people closed the doors during daytime.

Akka would squat cross legged on the floor in the small hall and face the student.  She would read a sentence from the school text book and explain its meaning.  Meanings of difficult words were specifically explained.  After that, she would dictate and make us write.  She would conduct little tests also every now and then for which I had to go prepared.  This was to evaluate how fast I was grasping.  It was a friendly atmosphere for teaching and she patiently tried to make me understand.

This Hindi 'tuition' overlapped the play-hour, much to my discomfort. I envied the other boys who were playing just outside, in the open yard, while I was taking this 'punishment' inside.  Often, only my physical body was attending the class!  

I cannot remember going for the tuition using the gate of their owner's house.  I would hop over the compound wall and land there!

The fee given to Akka, if my memory recalls right, was two rupees per month.  School fee was five rupees. My attending these short sessions, I admit, was as perfunctory as attending school.  This feeling stuck till the end of academics.

At school Miss Leela was our teacher. She was aware of my 'speed of learning' and was kind to give some leeway.  For passing my 7th, many had extended their support at a crucial time, because of a certain incident that I have blogged [here].

 By taking Sanskrit for 8th, I thought I would escape from this 'Greekish subject', but worse still, Sanskrit became Latin and was to trouble me all the way through.  I also saw myself taking a small exam for beginners at Hindi.  You can see my performance in it at the end. 

Miss Leela, Akka and also my aunt [who used to teach me at times] were responsible to push me to the extent that I barely managed to cross the line, I mean the minimum line!  My lack of application only need to be blamed.

We boys used to call the subject ''hindi-handi'.  The rhyming word meant 'pig' and the elders would frown at us for insulting the language.  But it was purely for some childish rhyming fun.

I kept visiting Akka once in a while even after the family moved into their own house in the neighbouring locality, long later.  I captured the picture [from a framed photo] of her when I visited her daughter-in-law [who also used to teach us as a stand-by when Akka was not home, free or well] last year.  Akka left us some years ago. I remember this humble teacher often.

This is a fun poem I framed many years ago, after years of struggle [to speak Hindi with my team mates]:

Main Hindi may baath karoonga.  [I will speak in Hindi]  Baath=Speaking.

Baat kartay kartay, chawal baath khawoonga. [While speaking, I will eat rice baath - a dish]

Uskay baad, paani me 'Bath' karoonga.  [After that I will have bath in water]  [This is English 'bath'!]

Notice the common word 'Baath', all having different meaning?

My Hindi-speaking team mates of cricket would not understand the last line I had framed!   They have enjoyed my Hindi!  All said and done, our 'national language' Hindi is still Greek to me.

I close, showing some certificates.

These three are my aunt's as I mentioned at the top.

Finally, this is mine, from the 'Doosri' exam. These were off-school exams.  They must have thought very hard to give me a 'third class' at most!

****

Birds of feathers and metal

 The spotted owl was still screeching.  I was up early and was already watering the plants before the Mysore sky received its first ray of sunlight.  The odd silence at this time of the day was real and brought back memories of early mornings of yore, say 30-35 years, but when it was not exactly silent on that count. 

I can clearly recall how House Crows crowed in chorus from the tree branches trying to wake everyone up.  Their population was aplenty.  So also the now-gone-from-here House Sparrow which co-existed and woke up later.  Come evenings, they would all fight for their tree-branch space for the night and the sparrows chirped from the shrubs.

Very often we have returned home at night from errand-outings with a splash of crow shit on the vertex or on the shirt.  And in the middle of the night when some crow dreamed and cawed, other crows would wake up and caw-caw-caw which disturbed the neighbourhood's sleepers.  Now that is missing.  Their numbers have alarmingly dwindled and there is no cawing at day break.  The Asian Koels usually wakeup in its 'singing season' at half past four, but we don't hear the crows.  

Modernization has not helped crows to thrive happily though many are seen flying here and there.  There are a couple of them which come down and caw, as if asking, when I take my breakfast out near the pond.  So I share a few pieces with them.  These crows seem to recognize me and I hear they can too.  This morning also I had this opportunity to feed.  Also in religious belief, they are seen as representatives of our dead ancestors and the crow-feeding ritual is an important item during their annual death ceremonies. I have a bird bath where some of them often visit to quench their thirst. Some are friendly and they wont fly away even if I am close by.  So much crowing about crows.  Enough, now for some pictures, both from recent archive.

The ad [in Kannada] says 'I am waiting for you'.

At my bird bath for a drink.

Back to the early morning and the owl.   The sky was brightening.  I spotted on the tree branch outside the gate, a pair of Spotted Owls.  They were only about 15 feet away.  I brought out the camera.  After a couple of shots, they flew away, one after the other.  The flash fired at it made the eyes appear red.

Indian Gray Hornbill is another common bird here.  It came by to the neighbour's tree.  One of the couple is out of this picture.  

Much later, I happened to see a glistening object in the sky which was now brighter.  It was a metal bird and I could see its reddish body, the red was from the just emerging red sun which was still not visible down here.  During January, the sun rises from behind the Chamundi Hill, as viewed from our locality.  The rays were already reaching the aeroplane up there from above the hill.  It was quite a sight.  Click to enlarge the images.

There was another plane that flew past in the same direction a long while later when I still had the camera hanging on the neck and the sky had got its blue. With a small airport now functioning at Mysore, there will be some metal birds in our skies and I hope there wont be any bird-hits.  About 30 years ago, there was a weird dream, not once, but twice, some years apart.  I was looking at a plane that had settled safely on a tree and I was running to watch it from up close and on the other occasion, I was watching it come down and settle on a tree!! 

Stray objects in food

The lady of my elderly friend's house I was visiting to meet a new acquaintance offered some snacks to eat while we three of us sat together for a chat.  All of us were cricket enthusiasts.

I was listening to their conversation about some nostalgic moments while eating little spoonfuls of the snack.  Since the plate was in my left hand, I was casually seeing what and how much came on to the spoon before it was delivered into the mouth.  One particular scoop needed a very close look.  I withheld to observe as the tiny speck was of different colour.  It was among the green coriander pieces, white coconut gratings, creamish vermicelli pieces and black mustard seeds. The shape of this very tiny rounded metal object was like removed lead debris from a soldering electronic circuit board.

It was nothing new to me because I am jinxed about finding weird little objects in my food plate.  

I kept my little 'find' aside and continued like nothing happened, until the other two also finished theirs.  The lady of the house had to be see this, because they buy food stuff from reliable stores and in turn they should be alerted.  Showing this, I made it clear about my genuine intention which she understood and kept the 'find' for that purpose.  This is an extremely stray incident.  But this reminded me of another stray incident many years ago.  

I was packing a few Parle Monaco Biscuits [click] in the little box for my kindergarten kid to be taken to the school.  We normally take these packed products for granted, more so if they are from reputed companies.  This company was established in 1929 and we were among the thousands of patrons across the country.  Call it whatever, either pure chance or divine intervention, I happened to impulsively turn one particular biscuit to see its underside.  It was a casual glance. Lo, there was a tiny, 'V-shaped' object embedded on the underside!

Several thoughts flashed across. What if I had put it in the box and what if it had got stuck in the little throat of the kid, etc. I thanked goodness.  I withheld it.  The object that was embedded was a worn out piece of conveyor chain belt in the factory as it passed through the oven and then for packing.  

I wrote to the manufacturer how a potential danger was averted and guessed a possible reason for the tiny fragment escaping into the packet. I also enclosed the fragile and crisp biscuit in an envelope.

After some days, there was small a postal parcel for me.  It was from that company!

Read a part of my letter and what they wrote back, sending me 8 packets of biscuits.

[Click to 'enlargify' and read]

Graceful Gliders

Black Kite [Milvus migrans] is one of the birds of prey that habitats in our locality where fortunately many trees and some greenery are still surviving.  The neighbouring premise has a good number.  Some of these kites roost there.  Black Kites are easily distinguishable from their forked tails which are visible during flight. When it perches, this is not seen.

This is a shot I took from the balcony as it was perching on an end branch of the neighbour's tree.  Its wingspan is quite wide.  The picture below, taken by me of our tree reveals it.

Watching them do various things is a delightful experience, whether they collect large twigs to make their nests, fight for rivalry, chase the crows when they intrude their nest, perch on the tip of an electric pole surveying for food and even their calls.  I got to observe an unusual sight recently.  A particular kite was shifting its nest from the neighbour's tree to another tree at some distance.  It was removing the twigs from its nest and depositing at its new nest. May be it had found a better place and for cheaper rent!!

The best sight is when they soar and glide, circling and in pairs.  They keep doing this for any length of time, sometimes they go far away but return to view.  There will be others also higher up in the sky randomly flying, so far up that they are like mere tiny dots.  

This pair have been doing this circling ritual since many days and sometimes, I forget other things when I stand and keep watching them and engrossment at times takes me to a level when even the traffic noise outside suddenly seem to get "unnoised"!

They reminded me of Pair Skating.  It is such a delight to watch their very graceful and elegant movements. 

[Chung Sung-Jun/Getty Images]

Here are a few stills I took recently of that pair of kites:

A video of another kite, another day. 

~~~~~~

A Meteor 'Showers' Me!

The local paper had carried a brief article last week about Geminid Meteor Shower in December [click on Huffington Post link], but I had brushed it aside because of my earlier disappointment some years ago of fruitless waiting most of the night. In fact, I had got carried away by that news item to such an extent that my neck really pained, not to mention losing patience and valuable sleep!  Not one single meteor! 

This morning [December 14, 2012], I found myself at the Athletic Ground for the morning walk opposite Crawford Hall, as early as 5.20 with still a good 40 minutes for the sky to get the first ray of sunlight.

It was a dark sky after the new moon.  I could see Great Bear on the northern sky, Orion Constellation and Jupiter ready to set towards the west and Venus rising on the east. I am not an astronomer, but a sky gazer with only a few names of objects to back.

I had finished the first round and was walking on the track northwards, looking straight so that the path in front was visible.  We do this almost involuntarily.  

Towards the top of my field of vision, suddenly, I saw a bright blue glowing light, streak across the sky from west to east, slightly southwards. It was a meteor.  My reflexes made me look in that direction, almost right above me.  The moment I looked up, it glowed bright and disappeared.  My brain recorded its trail for a long distance across the sky.  If I compare the sky to the top half of a clock, the streak of light was from about 11 O'Clock position to 2 O'Clock position which is a long trail!  It appeared very close to earth as it was quite big.  I could also notice some cinders that quickly disappeared at the end of its tail towards my left and a few as it passed above.  But the time my eye turned upward, the meteor was at its brightest, before burning down towards my right. All this happened in a split second.  My eye and brain could retain that much of information. It was absolutely spectacular.

My next few rounds of walk was filled with this excitement.  I also heard some elderly man at a distance greet his friend "Doomsday will come" because that fellow had come early.  He had not noticed the meteor, or so methinks. But my thoughts were of the past, related to superstitions about Meteors or Shooting Stars, as I sat on a bench to rest, skipping my free-hand exercise. 

We were brainwashed about so many superstitions in our younger days.   One of them was: sighting a shooting star was a bad omen.  Deaths of two relatives in 1972 soon after two separate accidental sightings increased the fear at that small age to such an extent that I dreaded to look up at the night sky lest some shooting star was spotted!!  It was only years later that I could gradually allay that fear.  I was then thinking of astronomers who keep watching meteors and the likes!  In that case, what omen for them?  What about animals and birds that also could notice them?

This morning's sighting, I repeat, was the most spectacular one I have been lucky to 'see'.  There was no 'shower' of meteors, but this one showered to thrill to me!  I hope some walkers already there in the ground were lucky too.

Back home, I retrieved that newspaper to read the full article!  I 'googled' to provide the link in the first line of this post.  In the link are more pictures taken and shared by various sources.  Take a peek.  My description will not suffice!  I could only recreate using MS Paint.

A link from NASA, just FYI.

Radio Interview Circus!

A surprise telephone call one day in 2006 gave me some strange moments.  It was from a staffer* of All India Radio [AIR], Mysore, inviting me for a 10-minute interview for a series 'Ello kanda mukha' [A face seen somewhere].  Information of my being an ardent club cricketer with many years standing had been fed by his cricketer-friend* who was in a rival club. [Look for the asterisk at the end]

I tried to refuse the invitation, because of my very high and hard-earned reputation all life of not being able to 'face' gathered people, leave alone speak, despite this one being different.  The staffer on line would neither leave me alone nor would answer my question 'Why have you chosen me?'.

  His friendly tone sounded really true!  He coaxed, but without flattery.  I most reluctantly gave in, but on condition that we must first meet eye ball to eye ball and spend some time talking to each other before thinking of the studio.  To me, it was an alien situation. So I thought that if I met the interviewer-to-be*, a stranger to me at that stage, would ease my communication channel.

Honouring the condition I imposed, he visited our home on two evenings, leisurely chatting various things over a cuppa, while he admired the old house and the ancestry.  He fixed up a time during that week for the recording for which I tried to prepare with some noteworthy stuff.

......

I must very briefly mention about our All India Radio studio where I was to go.

It was designed by the famous German architect, Otto Koenigsberger.  Sir Mirza Ismail [the then Dewan of Mysore] tours Berlin and witnesses the 1936 Olympics, admires the stadium and dreams of having such a sports complex in Mysore. So he meets Koenigsberger who also had his hand in the Berlin Stadium  and succeeds in bringing him to Mysore in 1939.  But the Mysore project did not take off due to lack of funds.  In the meanwhile there was a requirement for a proper studio for All India Radio.  So in lieu of the sports stadium, Koenigsberger was assigned with the designing of it.  He finds himself living in Mysore and in other cities of India for 9 years.  He visits Mysore in 1977 and AIR interviews him.  At that time, he expressed his pride that he still held on to the Indian Passport also  Such was his fondness and love he had for our country.  

Mysore happens to be the first radio station of the country [1935].   The name 'Akashvani' to it was coined by Prof. M.V.Gopalswamy, a Professor of Psychology at Maharaja's College and whose hobby was 'wireless'!  The interiors of the studio Koenigsberger designed is considered unique and perhaps one of the best studios in the country.

Two years ago, AIR Mysore celebrated its Platinum Jubilee. Its souvenir is a wonderful collectors' item.
Another link: The Hindu

.........

I was now sitting in one of the smaller studio cabins facing the interviewer across the microphone, keeping my elbows on the desk, trying my best to relax.  The magnificent sound-proof walls produced the calmest silence and I could hear my pumping heart.

"Shall we start?" he said.  His visit to my house had helped him frame his questions.  He readied settings on his computer and started the introduction followed by the first question.  I, bla.. ..bbla.. blabberrrd ... and then stopped.  He checked for technicalities etc. but I was blabbering!  He started once more and continued.  My brain suffered frequent 'thought blocks' which were to the extent that he got fed up, decided to abort mid way and asked me to return the next day.

So I went again.  The previous day's bla bla.........bla had stood me in better stead mentally, having got the 'studio feel'.  He had told me that I could pause any number of times and showed me how easily unwanted stuff could be erased from the recording, using computer software!  AIR would have shunted me out, if this were to be 20 years ago which were 'tape-recording' days.   A mere ten-minute work spreading to two long sessions!  It was crazy!

Finally it was over, despite many 'aaaaaa's and 'mmmm's and pauses.  It was funny only for me.  I am sure he would have felt happy to see my back for once!  I was informed of the date of its broadcast which I also intimated to my close well-wishers and friends who were surprised too - 'me  speaking?'! Some of them telephoned after the broadcast saying and I knew they were telling 'it was 'nice' only not to displease me! 

Listening to my own voice on the radio was incredibly funny. I imagined how much time he would have spent snipping those numerous 'thinking sounds and gaps'. I called to thank him for the patience shown in 'handling' me.  I also begged an apology.  As 'his' memento, he gave me a CD with the recording of that programme.  I was not aware of a token remuneration too!

Thank goodness it was not a live broadcast!
~~~~~~
*  Click to see who the 'informer' and my interviewer were:
Informer. [Presently Editor of the popular Outlook magazine]
Interviewer. [Presently with AIR Madikeri]

Both of them will turn out to be famous personalities in the near future itself.

""""""""""
I am coming back to the post to add the widget for the audio.  Listen to the first 5 minutes of the interview. It is in Kannada language.  I finally was able to make it using 'audacity' a simple free software which my friend Krishna Rao showed me.


Click here to continue to listen to the remaining part... now it becomes complete:

To travel thrice for the same thing!

Representing the employer in sports is a privilege I have proudly enjoyed for decades. On one such official intimation for a cricket tournament, I landed in Hyderabad, all prepared.  There was a weird 'air' when the autorickshaw dropped me at the gate of the campus and guest house.  Something was amiss that morning. 

We are used to be welcomed by a banner near the entrance gate announcing the tournament.  Walking down to the guest house with the luggage, I wondered why there was nothing.  When I told the man at the reception my purpose of coming, he was surprised!  He knew nothing.  "What tournament?".  But he gave me a room to keep my luggage and to freshen up after a tedious night's bus journey that had lasted 17 hours.  Also, I soon found out that I was the only one who had turned up!

After a shower, I met the local club's secretary at his workplace in the campus for first hand information on this confusion.  Dates had been rescheduled and intimated to the Board, but there was a bad communication gap.  The new dates had not yet been decided.  I had no option but to return.  I was carrying the rolling trophies we had won the previous year to be handed over to the secretary, which I did.  

By that time, a couple of team mates of that place came to meet me.  It was a really funny feeling! We had lunch at the canteen.  I saw no point in staying further and I wished to leave the same evening back to Mysore.  So, my friend Yamin took me on his bike to the Bus Station well in time for the 4 pm bus.  Luckily there were a few seats vacant.  So another 17 hours.  I tell you, 'pillioning' Yamin continues to be the most fearsome bike journey ever.  He rode adventurously despite traffic which in some narrow stretches were quite crowded. I was holding my suitcase in the hand and Yamin kept the kit bag on the petrol tank in front of him. Heart in my mouth and the one free hand gripping his shoulder I prayed. When he stopped at the Bus Station, he coolly says, 'that is how I ride!'

After a couple of months the new dates arrived - for November.  Again, I reached a day ahead.  This time, the usual 'tournament atmosphere' greeted me.  I went to the allotted room and joined my team mates.  It was a nice clear day.  A light practice session was done and there were hand shakes with some opponent team members who also knew me.  The next morning was the inauguration.  Everything was fully set for the annual event. 

Rain is cricket's biggest and greatest spoilsport. It started raining in the wee hours and that too, heavily, steadily and continuously   In the morning we players peeped at the ground which was close by and visible.  Now it was a lake, fit for a swimming or rowing event!  Forget cricket!  The neat pandal and dais were down.  We managed to have breakfast and tea when the rain receded for a while.  The sky was still overcast, in contrast to the previous clear day.  Rain reigned again.  There was no chance of any play as it would have taken a week for that 'lake' to dry up.  

Yamin wanted me to stay in his house which was close by.   I shifted my luggage on his bike.  We wiled away time watching TV and chatting this and that as rains continued unabated.  There was official cancellation of the event.  There was no way people could go out for anything. Roads were flooded.  The next day, it had ceased.  Yamin again took me to book my bus ticket for the next afternoon. 

He took me around the city on his motorbike and wanted to show the Falaknuma Palace. Unfortunately, it was a holiday for visitors on that day.  Since there was time, he took me to the famous *Salar Jung Museum which I had a long standing desire to see, more so for the famous clock because I had heard of it.  After seeing it I felt that the one at Jagan Mohan Palace here was the better.  

Once more, a new date for the tournament arrived, for February 1995.  Everything went on as usual, except the result. Our team could not qualify for the finals.  So we lost that trophy. 

I do not think there is anybody who has traveled such a long distance thrice for the same thing!

~~~~~~~~~~~

*I am tempted to add a little bit about 'Veiled Rebecca' which I had not heard of.   I could see from a very close range, the beauty of the statue and the skill of the Italian Scupltor, Giovanni Benzoni. It is a life-sized statue on a pedestal hewn from a single piece of white marble. It was purchased by Salar Jung in 1876 during his visit to Rome. 

Beautiful 'Rebecca' in near perfect feminine proportions appears to be draped in a wet garment, covering her modesty with the fully distinct 'transparent' veil at which visitors stand gaping.  The sculptor has deliberately left a blot on the right thigh of the statue, perhaps, to indicate that perfection is only for the gods. Not for nothing this is considered to be 'Music in marble'.

[Both images from the web]