WHAT A STRUGGLE AND WHAT A REWARD!

My parents migrated to Chennai, then called Madras in the late 50’s from Andhra Pradesh.  Andhra Pradesh was just a few years old and until then, their villages were in Madras Presidency and Madras was the capital.  Though a significant number of people spoke Telugu (Even today, Telugu is the second largely spoken language in Chennai after Tamil), my parents, particularly my mother was annoyed at the fact that not many spoke chaste Telugu in Chennai.  The Telugus in Chennai generally and generously borrow words from Tamil and English and speak with a peculiar accent and the language sounds totally different from the Telugu that is spoken in Andhra Region.  My parents were determined that they would teach their children to read, write and speak Telugu in a proper manner. 

My parents initially lived in T.Nagar, a developed and predominantly Telugu speaking locality In Chennai and so my eldest brother had not much difficulty.  In the two schools he studied, Telugu was offered both as a second language option and also as a medium of instruction.  By the time my second brother was born, my parents shifted to the suburbs.  Fortunately by the time we (my second brother, I and my younger sister) were old enough to attend school, an associate of the founder of Andhra Mahila Sabha, started an institution in our locality.  It consisted of a primary school, an orphanage, a working women’s hostel, a vocational training centre, an old age home and a school for the downtrodden.  Since the founder was a Telugu Speaking person and also many of the residents in the locality were Telugus, the school offered Telugu as a “Second language” option.

A neighbor of ours joined our school as a teacher.  She was the class teacher for LKG and also taught Telugu to students of all classes.  She was my first teacher and the best teacher.  Unfortunately, within a year, she shifted to Hyderabad.  Then another lady, who also happened to be a friend's sister, joined.  Her family too shifted to Vijayawada within a year and by the time I was in my 1^st standard, I was without a Telugu teacher.  The school management tried their best to get a teacher for us, but failed miserably. A leading Telugu film actor built a house close to our school and his niece who just finished college came to Chennai looking for a prospective husband.  My Headmistress, who was looking for a Telugu teacher desperately, requested the neighbour’s niece to stay back in Chennai and teach us till such time she got engaged.  She too obliged and joined the school.  Though she was a graduate, she was neither trained to teach nor an erudite.  I have not come across such a mediocre teacher in my entire life.  My parents found innumerable mistakes in the words she wrote in my copywriting note and sent chits to her regularly, listing her mistakes.  When she failed to improve, my father complained to the Headmistress.  Unable to digest this insult, she resigned.  Things came back to square one and we were left with no Telugu teacher.  When the management could not hire a Telugu teacher, they sent a circular to parents of all Telugu students giving an option to change the “second language” to either Hindi or Tamil.  While many parents agreed, my parents were reluctant.  For a while, the warden of the orphanage run by the school management was requested to take the additional responsibility of teaching us.  She could not cope and withdrew after sometime.  My parents then offered to teach us Telugu at home.  The management could not say “No” and so my parents taught us for a while.  Both my parents were taskmasters and their style of teaching was very different from that of regular teachers.  My dad made us read the books aloud and corrected the pronunciation and regularly dictated tongue-twisters. He also made us write letters to our Aunts and Uncles.  My mother made us recite poems from Vemana Satakam, Bhaskar Satakam and Sumati Satakam etc.    Question papers were formulated by them, sealed in an envelope and handed over the rickshaw puller, who took us to our school.  The rickshaw puller passed on the question paper to the Headmistress.  This went on for a term, by the end of which, the school management successfully hired a teacher.  This lady, who might never have had a formal education was a widow and was badly in need of a job.  She could read and write Telugu and so, the management overlooked her lack of formal education and appointed her as our teacher.  But by then, many Telugu students had left the school or changed their second language.  Very few of us were left and the management could not justify appointment of Telugu teacher exclusively.  She was appointed as teacher for the primary section and was given additional responsibility of teaching Telugu.    This lady had no idea of how lessons were taught in school and we had to guide her.  Because of the experience we gained in our 1^st term, we learned to learn lessons on our own and our parents continued to monitor and teach us at home.  This teacher made us learn the entire textbook by heart.  She had no clue about question papers for exams and converted the entire text book into a question paper.  Even the question paper for a 1^st standard student comprised of 5 or 6 sheets.  There were almost 50 to 60 questions and she apportioned 100 marks totally to the entire question paper and a “fill-in-the-blank” and an essay carried equal marks. My parents who monitored her teaching were least bothered about her questioning pattern.  Nobody could understand our plight and it took several hours for us to finish the exam.  The other teachers concluded that “Telugu students” were dunces.  During one such exam, when all the students had left and the Headmistress was ready to leave, she found us still writing the exam.  She too probably thought that something was wrong with us, but my sister who was very frustrated with this teacher, got up and showed the question paper to the Headmistress and explained our plight.  The Headmistress instructed us to stop writing and reprimanded the teacher.  This teacher never taught us grammar, non-details or poetry and composition.  Probably she didn’t know that such things existed.  Getting text books too was another problem.  We had to get them from Andhra.  My Dad sourced them for the entire school. 

When my second brother finished his 5^th standard and had to move to another school for his elementary education, getting admission was a little difficult.  Though his performance of English and Math were very good in one of the entrance tests, his Telugu was not considered up to the mark.  Annoyed with the results, my dad threatened to not only shift me and my sister to another school, but also influence parents of other students to do so.  Taking my dad’s threat seriously, the management sent the teacher for a brief training, after which she taught us little grammar and composition.  The two essays she taught us were “The mango tree” and “The Cow”. 

After I finished my 5^th in the school near to our home, I was sent to a Higher Secondary school, far away from home.  My Telugu teachers there were good and I attribute all my knowledge to them.

After school, when I joined college, again there was a problem.  I was the only Telugu student in the class and though a Telugu professor was available in the college, my class schedules didn’t match with hers and hence I had to again learn on my own.  My brother, who studied the same syllabus a few years before me, helped me with my lessons.  An ex-classmate, who studied in a different stream in our college, helped me with her notes.  The professor too after correcting my test papers helped me with a detailed feedback. 

Each one of us (I and my siblings) has a story to narrate on our Telugu learning process.

Though the process was tough, as our parents wished, we have all learnt Telugu not only perfectly, but also excelled in our chosen fields.  While my first brother was into journalism for a while, my second brother and my sister write both prose and poetry and I am of course a freelance broadcaster.  Both my brothers are popular in several online Telugu forums. 

Today, on the occasion of International Mother Language Day, I can say that listening to our perfect diction, vocabulary and command over the language, it is hard to believe that, we were raised outside Andhra Pradesh.  (Sorry for sounding conceited). Many languages are becoming extinct and it is our responsibility to save at least our Mother Language. Unless we save our languages, we are certain to lose the knowledge and wisdom that is passed on to us by our previous generations. 

MARRIAGES ARE MADE IN HEAVEN, BUT AT WHAT COST?

I enjoy attending weddings.  While I am an active participant in some of the family weddings and weddings of my close friends, I also enjoy being just a spectator in many.

The two weddings I attended recently have disturbed me a lot. 

One is my friend’s daughter’s wedding. My friend, in her late fifties belongs to the typical Indian middle class.  They live in a small house in the suburbs of Chennai, built with the benefits her husband received on retirement.  She takes tuitions for a living and occasionally does some freelancing assignments for media.  A year ago she fell down and had a hairline fracture in her foot.  With a heavy bandage, she commuted to work by public transport, as she could not afford travel by a taxi or an auto.    She was very worried that her daughter, who was into her late twenties, was single.    I attended the grand wedding and out of curiosity, I asked my friend how much they had spent for the wedding and I had the shock of my life, when she told that they have spent around twenty lakh rupees.  Seeing my shock, she discussed the breakup with me.  They spent two lakhs for the venue, around a lakh for decorations, electricity and water, five lakhs for food, a lakh for purchase of tickets for the groom’s family to Chennai, a lakh for lodging the relatives (both the grooms and their’s), two lakhs for the band, videographer, photographer and the beautician, few lakhs for purchase of gold and few lakhs for purchase of saris and return gifts.  They might also have given a hefty dowry to the groom, which she had not discussed.  The figures might be a little exaggerated, but still what they have spent for the wedding is certainly beyond their capacity.  They might have either borrowed heavily, or spent all their lifetime savings on this wedding.

 

 The other wedding I have attended recently is that of an acquaintance. This friend is from a lower-middle class background, who happens to be a first generation graduate and employed in organized sector.  He belongs to a community, in which, marriage is hosted by the groom’s family.  The bride reaches the wedding venue with her guests in the same fashion as a North Indian Baraat. (Unbelievable, but true)  The moment the wedding was fixed, he was in a fix.  The disposition of a cheerful and carefree person changed overnight.  His parents were almost bankrupt after celebrating his brothers’ weddings and wanted to be relieved from further responsibilities and so he had to take care of himself.   He had very little savings.  He lives with his parents in a tiny apartment in a crowded locality and so the option of organizing the wedding at home was ruled out.  I and my other friends suggested that the marriage is performed in a temple and a reception organized in a restaurant.  If the wedding is performed at a temple, all the guests have to be shifted to another venue for the feast, as dining is not allowed in temples.   His relatives are spread across the country and he was very eager to invite them for the wedding.  As the relatives cannot be accommodated at his home and accommodating them in lodges would be more costly, he felt that hiring a “Kalyana Mandapam” (wedding hall) was more sensible.  So, he started hunting for a venue.  All wedding halls in Chennai are booked well in advance, not only by the groom’s or bride’s families, but by caterers, priests, photographers, musicians, floral decorators and sometimes the employees of the marriage halls.  All the marriage service providers have a nexus and to get the venue, the bride’s/groom’s families have to hire the caterers, priests, photographers, floral decorators, musicians, electricians, beauticians etc. dictated by the person who has already booked the venue.  Also, the venue is hired out for two and half days and even if it is required only for a day or for a few hours, rent has to be paid for the package.   Poor fellow, he visited several “Kalyana Mandapams” and was very disappointed at the cost.  The few community halls maintained by the corporation are not in good condition.  In olden days, rich men built choultries for the poor to use.  Also, there were several open spaces, which could be used.  Left with no other option, he booked a “Kalyana Mandapam”.   With great difficulty, he borrowed a few lakhs from a bank at a very high rate of interest for organizing the wedding.  It may take a decade or more for him to repay this loan completely.

I am not just worried about my friends and their finances, but about the trend as a whole.    Why should so much be spent on a wedding?  What about those who cannot afford?