Sunday, February 12, 2012

The Beginning


I was reading this poem of Rabindranth Tagore the other day. Tagore's poetry amazes me. He was a lover, a mother, a father, a naturist, a what not...He could spy into people's minds and write their thoughts down. That's what he did in this poem years ago when I was not born.


The Beginning

“WHERE have I come from, where did you pick me up?” the baby asked its mother.
She answered half crying, half laughing, and clasping the baby to her breast,– “You were hidden in my heart as its desire, my darling.
You were in the dolls of my childhood’s games; and when with clay I made the image of my god every morning, I made and unmade you then.

You were enshrined with our household deity, in his worship I worshipped you.
In all my hopes and my loves, in my life, in the life of my mother you have lived.
In the lap of the deathless Spirit who rules our home you have been nursed for ages.
When in girlhood my heart was opening its petals, you hovered as a fragrance about it.
Your tender softness bloomed in my youthful limbs, like a glow in the sky before the sunrise.

Heaven’s first darling, twin-born with the morning light, you have floated down the stream of the world’s life, and at last you have stranded on my heart.
As I gaze on your face, mystery overwhelms me; you who belong to all have become mine.
For fear of losing you I hold you tight to my breast. What magic has snared the world’s treasure in these slender arms of mine?”


That Magical Bag of Ice...



Teaching the little ones, and to be with them for the whole day as a home-room teacher has many such moments, which bring a smile to my face everyday.

My mornings start with a 7 year old's loudest singing voice. He sings "O' Canada" at his best everyday. His face shines with pride when he hears,"You rock, John" and the singing is even louder the next day. :)

I have discovered that Band-Aid and ice are the best inventions that have ever been made. They are definitely the best friends of a teacher. A small bruise or an invisible cut can make little Johnny look at it  teary-eyed the whole day and not work at all but that small thin beige piece of strip can do the magic. "Are you feeling a little better now?" The nod is in a big "YES" always. Almost everyday there is a child who comes complaining after recess, "I got hurt in the yard. Can I get some ice from the office?" "I don't think you need ice for this honey" is the worst comment I can ever make. No! How can I? It is always, "Oh! how did that happen? Okay, go get some ice", and the 7-year old with that little zip-lock bag with two cubes of ice in it sits on the carpet, with it on his head or shoulder until the ice turns into water and leaks on the carpet; and finally, after throwing it away in the garbage, he feels better.

The other day the kids were writing recounts. This little girl in my class had visited India during summer. She was writing about her favourite vacation. She is a great writer. She included all the 5 W's (if you don't know- they are the what, where, when, why and who) in her recount, used all the transition words like first, next, later etc. and followed the 'success criteria' of writing recounts perfectly. A beautiful recount it was indeed. Then she had to draw a picture and write a caption about the picture. So she made a beautiful drawing with a girl in braids playing soccer alone. The caption said, " This is me playing soccer with my brother in India. My brother has gone to drink water in the picture. This is one my personal favourites.

And here is the classic - So I saw this new cool i-phone on the librarians desk. I was signing out books for my class and the kids were lining up in front of me. I asked one of my students (a second grader), "Hun, will you buy me a cell phone like this when you grow up and start earning?" He looked at the phone, took a moment and then said, "Yes, Ms. Chatterjee, I will, if you are alive".

What can be more enjoyable than to be with these little ones and be a part of the world of their imagination? I feel I am one of those very few blessed people who love their job. I love being a primary teacher.