Challenged

I sometimes startle myself with my prescience.

A while ago, when Taarey Zameen Par was the superhit and talking point of the hour, I happened to remark in class that a time was coming when every pupil who was simply too lazy and absent-minded to spell correctly would claim that s/he was a victim of dyslexia, and so deserving of leniency rather than stern reprimands. To that extent, Aamir Khan had done all language teachers a great disservice. In any case, dyslexia is far more uncommon than sheer cussedness (I shall maintain to my dying day that spelling correctly is the first and indispensable sign of literacy – someone who misspells ten common words per written page cannot be called educated, even if he has a PhD to his name. And nothing – besides bad handwriting – so instantly identifies laziness and sloppiness as deep-rooted character traits as poor spelling does).

Well, it came true very recently. When I ruefully asked a pupil how she could possibly spell so many words wrongly, she gave me a bright smile and said ‘Sir, dyslexia!’

Gift from an old boy

Here are a few rib-ticklers that an old boy, Archishman Sarkar, recently sent me.

"Don't I look good in tails?"
"Why not? Your ancestors did."

"You're a liar," said Muscles.
"Yeah?" grumbled the thin man. "Say that again and I'll bust your jaw."
"Consider it said."
"Consider your jaw busted."

"What sort of woman is your wife?"
"She's an angel, that's what she is."
"You're lucky. Mine's still alive."

Two old girl friends met on the street after not seeing each other for several years.
"Belle, my darling," shrieked one. "It's so good to see you. Tell me dear, do you and your husband have those terrible arguments anymore?"
"No", said Belle.
"What made you stop?"
"He died," said Belle.

Patient at a lunatic asylum: "We like you better than the last doctor."
New Doctor (flattered): "And how's that?"
Patient: "You seem more like one of us".

"But doctor," said the worried patient, "are you sure I'll pull through? I've heard cases where the doctor has made a wrong diagnosis, and treated someone for pneumonia who has afterwards died of typhoid fever."
"Nonsense," spluttered the doctor, "When I treat a patient for pneumonia, he dies of pneumonia."


Absentminded professor (leaving church): Who's the absent-minded one now? You left your umbrella back there and I not only remembered mine but brought along yours, too!"
Wife (gazing blankly at him): But neither of us brought one to the church!

Thanks, Archishman.

General knowledge, again...

Anandabazar Patrika reported a few days ago that in one of the so called upmarket schools in Delhi, a lot of pupils had written, in response to a GK test question, that model/actress Lisa Ray was the daughter of Satyajit Ray, and a lot of them had been marked right by the teacher concerned. When the scandal blew up, not only were the pupils blase about it ('How are we supposed to know?') but so were the authorities, on the pretext that the answer was not immediately available to the teacher in her textbook. We are still not supposed to ask what sort of clowns have become teachers these days; and obviously such cretins not only do not carry anything called knowledge inside their heads, but have either never heard of encyclopedias and/or google, or couldn't be bothered to check.

In my childhood, we heard of such things as caricatures - the Bengali comedian Robi Ghosh, playing the part of a 'smart' young man (as 'smart' was understood in the 1970s) glibly telling his father, as proof of being educated, that Indira Gandhi was Mahatma Gandhi's daughter. In three decades, India has progressed so much that now it's not a caricature any more, but everyday reality. 'Clever' young quizzards have said on TV that Pather Panchali was written by Satyajit Ray, and sung songs of Nazrul when asked to sing Tagore. And such things, please note, happen in highly expensive fancy schools which tomtom in the advertisements how they are giving 'world-class education' (makes you wonder what 'world-class' means these days, doesn't it?). The likes of Prof. Amartya Sen, living in faraway ivory towers, have long been lamenting the poor quality of education being given in scantily-endowed government schools all across India. When will they turn to look at the Augean stables that our best private schools have become?

In 1991 I heard this joke: What do you call a New York politician who can spell 'cat'?... You call him talented. These days millions of such talented creatures are having no trouble becoming teachers (and also doctors, engineers, scientists, lawyers, mind you). Close to home, I personally know 'bright' students who wrote or said 'I drawed a picture' and 'He teached me' and couldn't score more than 20% in an impromptu quiz and couldn't write a sensible essay when they were 16 going on to become scholars and teachers, and I keep warning every batch, 'remember, a fool, when he grows old, only becomes an old fool'! I know lots of teachers with first-class degrees who would be lost in class without the notebooks they dictate (borrowed) notes from. If this country is not in a pretty mess, what is it in?