What Happened To The Classroom Stories

Was remembering my student days (not so long ago)

Database class: "Suppose you want to open a bank account...."
Modeling class: "Lets see the process for opening a bank account..."
OOAD class: "A customer wants to open an account. for this use case...."
Java class: "There are two classes. A bank account class, and a customer class..."
Finance class: "When you open a bank account....."
System Architecture: "When you want to build a new banking system..."
Aint it boring.

Every classroom or textbook opens with the same example...

Why cant we get more creative in teaching???
Why do all professors use the same examples for every damn subject??

Cant we tell a good story????

Of Drinks, Potato chips, and Parents!

During a recent flight trip, my copassenger in the flight hadnt switched off his iphone during landing.When the airhostess questioned him, he smartly said he didnt know how to turn it off!! Such gall.

Everyone blindly takes whatever drink is offerred to them on the flight. i mean they choose...but not quite.

and the airhostess fills the glass half with ice - guess another directive to cut costs.

I asked for coke without ice.

Another observation: everyone is sipping their drink relaxedly. but when the steward comes to collect the trash, everyone gulps down the drink to hand over the glass back to the trash bag!

The trash can wait people!

And I set an example.

I didnt gulp down my coke when the steward came.

He came. He saw. But I conquered.

Finally I threw in the glass when he came around the 4th time.

But the best was this:

While waiting for my next flight, I was eating a pack of potato chips.

An Indian couple with two tiny kids was also waiting opposite me.

One of the kids was about 4-5 years.

The other was in a stroller..so about less than a year perhaps.

When I was eating the chips, the little kid in the pram,started looking at me.

He was watching intently as i took each wafer.

Wafer after wafer, he kept watching the wafer and me eating it.

I think he was feeling hungry now, and perhaps wanted chips.

Now wat do I do?

I was feeling awkward and I cudn't think of offering the kid the potato chips....it wud look odd, considering that I didn't even bother to look at his parents!

Thankfully, his dad saw the kid looking at my wafers.

Realising the awkwardeness, he immediately got the milk bottle from their bag.

And popped in the baby's mouth.

Now the baby was forced to take his eyes off my chips, and look upwards, as his dad kept feeding him the milk.

Well for all practical reasons, this was just to avoid the awkwardness that was being caused to me. Thank you Uncle. The dad was now happy and was talking to his wife even as the baby continued to be force-fed the milk.

Force-fed?

Exactly!

Why dont parents get it!!

The baby wanted something exciting and junky like chips. Thats wats fun! Probably he wasnt even hungry!!

Instead they thought he was hungry and gave him milk.

Boring!

Coz after 10 minutes of massive feeding of bottle milk to the baby kid, the dad removed the bottle and let the kid be as he was supposed to be.

And the kid turned back to my chips.

And started looking again!

This time the dad carried the baby on his shoulders and just moved away.

Bus No 99

Bus no 99 is the only bus that stops right opposite our apartment. But its frequency is very less. 3 years ago back mom, sis and me had gone somewhere.

When done with our work, we managed to get a bus that would take us from there to the city central junction. It wasnt Bus no 99. So from the city central junction, we would have to either catch another bus which would take us to about 1 km near our house, or take an auto and get home.

But mom's radar was on Bus no 99. Anyway, i managed to convince her to get into this bus which had come, saying we shouldnt waste time. Thanks to APSRTC, sis and mom got in from the front entrance, and me from the rear.
With a few hand indications i managed to convey to her that i was fine and she should take the tickets for all of us.

After about 20 min, mom was signalling to me....and i was wondering whyever!!!!!!! At the next bus-stop abt 15 minutes later, i suddenly saw mom and sis get down and come over to the rear side.
And then they asked me to urgently get down as well. Thoroughly confused abt what was happening, i just got down without a query.

And then mom said, "Rush to the other side of the bridge. Bus no 99 is coming. We HAVE to get into it."
I was wondering why the maniacal hysteria.
The traffic policeman was laughing end to end. "

As if a shot in her arm, mom and sis rushed....rather ran.......and I followed suit.

We were in the nick of time. Mom managed to wave to the bus driver of bus no 99 to hold on for a sec. And he did.
We got in.
And i didn't care if i did so from the front entrance which is usually reserved for women. This was after all mom's adventure!!!

In bus no 99, mom was beaming with joy, "now its going to stop just outside our gate!" she said in Kannada.

Here is what had happened. I got to know from my sis.
In the previous bus which we had caught from the hospital, mom had been irritating the driver as to why bus no 99 had not come! Now how would he know.
But mom was insisting, "You ve to follow the bus schedules......." she told the driver.

Coincidently, however bus no 99 was coming behind......some metres away.
Mom was alerted when it overtook our bus at some juncture.

And then she alerted the driver too. " Look there is the bus...." she seemed to have said.

And then with some really long stories cut short she managed to tell the driver how crucial bus no 99 was for us. How it would stop just outside our house. And how useful it would be for her.
I think, in these few minutes, the driver wanted to help my mom.

Mom gave directions...." bus no 99 overtake cheyandi. Bridge dagra meeru stop cheyandi"
She told him to overtake the bus, drive ahead...and stop at the bridge crossroads some km ahead, from where we would catch the bus 99 that would hence a little later.

In a remarkable turn of events, the bus driver somehow managed to drive and overtake bus no 99.
And the rest was what eventually happened!!!

At one point during the bus drive, i suddenly felt the bus was going to fall. It was a breakneck jerk and swerving turn...i had just cursed the driver then, wondering what would ve happened to the other bus.
Little did i know that the other bus was bus no 99!!!!

My sis had this to say at the end of her heroic description of mom - "When the driver overtook bus no 99, mom felt like James Bond"

Come Next Week

Some aspects of our daily lives, we just take for granted.

The milkman who delivers the milk to your doorstep each morning, the newspaper man who makes sure u see the newspaper as you pick up the milk packets, the maid servant who attends to your house chores atleast twice a day; the LPG gas delivery boy; the istri wala (or the man who irons/presses your clothes). 

Well each of these guys does some work or service. And we pay them. Neat.

Wait.

Do we pay them on time?

As far as my memory goes, I have never paid these guys on time.

Most of the times the newspaper man knocks on our door or rings the doorbell on a warm sunday afternoon.

Sunday afternoons are meant to chill. 

A good lunch, a cricket match, sweets, sleep...

So when the newspaper-wala rings the doorbell, you are irritated at why someone is disturbing you.

When he greets you with "Sir! Newspaper bill"

We just say "Come next week"

And then shut the door.

Poor fellow..he just walks off.

Imagine every household does the same thing to him.

How would he make his money?

Well statistically speaking, not every household will defer everyweek. So he would get his money.

But more often than not, we just put off our payments.

Sometimes the newspaper-wala knocks at a rather convenient time: 11 am on a sunday morning.

This is a good time.

Its the start of a day-long holiday just after a long sleep.

And you generally look forward to it.

You are excited.

And so when you get the door in excitement of who would be there, you are often let down that its the newspaper guy and not the neighbour girl offerring your family some sweets.

"Come next week"

"No sir...you have to pay today. Its due since 3 weeks"

"Ok come tomorrow"

"Sir, tomorrow its not possible sir"

"Ok come in the evening"

"Sir, its not possible sir"

"Ok. how much"

"You want to pay for last 3 months together sir"

"How much?"

"Rs 178 sir"

"What? How is that possible?"

"Sir, i can explain sir..."

And before the newspaper guy gets started again, you just pay him what he wants and send him away!

So thats why the easiest thing to do is "Come tomorrow"

The gas delivery boy has become smart.

I instinctively told him after collecting the cylinder "Come next week"

"No sir. You have to pay now. Compulsory sir."

That means things are changing...or rather we are being forced to change.

The Cable tv guy.

"Come next week", and we get back to watching our favourite television show.

I happened to call my cousin this evening.

She cut the call midway as her doorbell rang.

After a while, she called back.

"What happened?"

"Someone at the door"

"Who?", I asked, almost expecting what I was thinking.

"Istri-wala"

"What did you say?"

"Nothing..i told him to come tomorrow to collect the cash. Why did u ask?"

"Nothing..just like that"

Bhava

One of the strangest things in Indian families is how we address our relatives.

Lets take the case of my cousin Prerna. She is a few years elder to me.

Ok she is about 6 years older to me.

I would almost liken her to be Prerna Aunty.

But the family tree suggested that she was still my first cousin.

So I began addressing her as Prerna Akka

Strangely, her older sibling, Prakash is about 9 years older to me.

And I call him just Prakash. Not Prakash Anna.

So it becomes extremely difficult when I meet them both and say "Hi Prakash, how are you" followed by "Hello Prerna Akka, how are you".

Anyway, Iam still ok with dealing with the confusion.

But sample this.

Imagine Prerna's little son calls me 'Mama'!

Nope. That makes me feel old.

I would want little Arun to call me just by my first name.

But it doesnt end there. Sample this recent phone conversation between me and Arun:

Me: So Arun, do you remember me?

Arun: Yeah i do. Mummy told me.

Me: Mummy? When did Mummy speak to you

Arun: What do you mean? U just now spoke to her right?

Me: Oh you meant your mummy! (realising he was not referring to my mom)

Arun: What?

Me: Yeah yeah..I know know..I was unable to hear you clearly (I was embarassed)

Me: Ok, so which school do you go to?

Arun: SNMHT 

Me: so does (Prerna) Akka drop you to school everyday?

Arun: Who??

Me: oh I mean does mummy drop you to school everyday?

Arun: yeah. she drops me at 10.

Me: ok give it to Vijay. I mean Daddy ("YOUR daddy" I told myself in my head)

Gosh!

I have decided.

Everyone is going to call me by just my first name.

Even my great grandchildren will.

I want them to know how cool their great grandpa was.

Yikes. I am not a grandpa! Why am I even getting there!

The most agonizing thing is when you have a mental map of someone elder associated with a term and then that term is applied to you.

Like my mom's elder brother in law often visited our house when we were younger. His ship would anchor in the harbour for a few hours or a weekend, and he would stop by our place.

My mom would call him 'Manohar Bhava'

'Bhava' meant brother-in-law. i guess.

And in my mind, it was always mapped as someone who is older, elderly and respected.

So when of my cousin sisters came to meet Prerna Akka, I was there too.

I was having a good time with Vijay her husband, whom for some reason i was still addressing as Vijay.
And guess what - she exclaimed 'hello Prerna!". 

I knew it was coming when she continued "Hello Vijay Bhava"

I ran away from there lest I become another Bhava somewhere in this complicated family tree!