Happy Teachers' Day 2024
A: Good Morning! Laptop on a Saturday Morning?
A: Good Morning! Laptop on a Saturday Morning?
Every semester, I include an assignment in my Communication course on reading a book. The students select a book (other than their textbooks) they haven't yet read and present a review toward the semester's end. For three years now, each batch has shown a similar pattern. There are broadly three groups. The students in one group buy the book well in advance, read it, devour it, and present it to the class in a way that shows they read it. The students in the second group select the book very late in the semester (including borrowing or downloading e-books), read it, and eventually realize that it was an exciting assignment. Finally, some students do not buy or read any books. They download, borrow, or create AI PowerPoint slides and present the review in a way that shows they did not read. A few students are at the borderline of these groups or present previously read books.
I have begun to feel the pinch of a mid-life crisis. My daughter is growing up, and my parents are growing old. My students have turned woke, and my seniors seem conservative. My upbringing has been traditional, and my exposure has become global. My life these days, and that of my peers around me, is mostly about coping with contradictions to find a balance. Some days are nerve-wracking, and on others, acceptance seeps into life. That's how I manage to go on!
मेरे पास समय नहीं है, बिज़ी हूँ!
Last weekend, I watched Chamkila on Netflix. It has stayed with me. As a friend said, "It still rests on my shoulders and walks with me", so much so that I am compelled to offload my thoughts amid a busy week.
मैं तुम्हें कैसे दिखाऊं, मुझे मेरा शहर नहीं दिखता!
As part of the “Innovation and Design Thinking” course, we conducted an activity in the classroom with my bunch of uber-loving and enthusiastic students. It emerged from our discussions on traits of creative people and their process of creativity. In this article, I am sharing details about this activity, in case anyone is interested in replicating it in the class, and the collective insight we drew from the activity. The context, steps, and outcomes are described ahead, followed by a discussion.
"It's late", she said, "we must leave. I heard the locals say the palace is haunted." "Come, don't be a child", I told her, secretly wishing her to stay so that I have company. But as expected, she went away. Adult friends don't accompany you to haunted palaces; they only console you after tragedies. I decided to visit the palace on my own. Atheism helps; to be a non-believer works both ways. As I entered the darkness, I switched on the mobile torch. I could barely see discoloured walls, spider webs, hanging roots and furniture covered in white sheets. The entrance led to a long pathway. My heart pounded fast; I could match my footsteps to my heartbeat. I remember walking into a dungeon and eventually waking up in a tiny room without any windows. As I opened my eyes, I was greeted by a ghost - my host that evening.
I feel nostalgia is the most elusive emotion, more than love. It fools me, makes me feel "those" were the best days of my life, and keeps me discontent with the present. I believe I am wired to either live in the past or the future. I also realize it to a reasonable extent, but just like finding God or true love, I keep attending spiritual discourses for miracles to happen - to be able to live in the present.
सब बोल रहे हैं, सुन कौन रहा है?
I had two choices yesterday on Netflix - kho gaye hum kahan and three of us. I just finished watching the former. But I began with the latter. Kho gaye was too fast for me, and three of us too slow; the average speed of entertainment turned out okay. I had time to watch one, but I wanted to watch both. So I used fast-forward mode killing the joy of watching either. It sounds weird to me too. I know the stories now, and can't watch them again. The filmmakers put in so much effort, one of them is a debutant, but I didn't have time. I had to write this blog. But, who reads my blogs? If you are reading, how much time do you have in life?
I forget! I always forget the timeline and labels for classifying "generations" into X, Y, Z, and Alpha when I give examples to students. Going by textbooks (though I never follow these religiously), I come across many examples of segmentation in strategy and branding based on generations. Last month, while reading about the significance of "context" in a LinkedIn post by Prakash Sharma, Founder of 1001 Stories, I felt relieved. I found an answer to the question surrounding my selective forgetfulness; I remember a thing that makes sense to me based on a "reason", "rationale", or even "intuition", but I forget it if I do not attach a meaning to it.
Suno
“Better, faster, sooner!”
On usual days, I forget that I turned 35 last year. Mostly, when I fill out forms, I am reminded that I have already lived half of my life (based on the average life expectancy of 70.8 years). I have experienced infancy, childhood, teenage, and adulthood, and the mid-life crisis is knocking at my door. My wisdom tooth has still not appeared, so I am unsure whether I have gained any wisdom, but by far, the 35th year is a reasonably good space and time to be. However, like all real-world experiences, it has its pros and cons. Last week, a conversation with a friend about messed-up biological clocks and sleep cycles led me to curate a list; I call it the list of things about adulthood that no one told me.
सब बताते हैं कि नियम जरूरी हैं,
Last week, I received my packet from Slowbazaar.com. I ordered a black, large-sized t-shirt with the words "broken inside" printed on it. I prefer a black, oversized piece for casual, stay-at-home or go-catch-a-coffee clothing. It looks simple and hides my food sins. It also shields my hypersensitivity; I can feel lights, sounds, and words hitting my bosom directly. Even though a little bizarre, these reasons may still find acceptance in my circle. But what led to a severe backlash when I excitedly posted my picture online in this t-shirt were the words imprinted on it - "broken inside."
Meeting old students is a delight as a teacher as they come to reminisce warm memories and share their experiences of "real" corporate jobs. Yesterday, an old student walked into my cabin - a brilliant young girl, clear and vocal in her choices. I have vivid memories of her participating in discussions. We had a wonderful conversation about life and life choices, but she left me thinking with one of her remarks - "Mam, why doesn't anyone tell the students that the real world is so, very different? Arsh se farsh par! (translated as from heaven to ground)."
काश कम ही फिल्में देखी होती बचपन में,