The teens were tough. Twenties trying. Thirties thriving. Forties fruitful. Fifties were fun and fulfilling. Sixties have been sweet. And now, how will seventies be? Sour? Or satisfying and smooth?
I was born in a small town. Not in a fancy nursing home. But in a small bedroom. No inoculations or vaccinations. No fuss. Everyone drank water from the pump. Ate chaat and sweets laid out in the open. Walked to the school. Sat on the floor. Learnt to write on a wooden board. Sometimes, studied under the light of a kerosene lamp. The teachers were tough. Wielded the rod regularly. The defaulters were punished without any distinction. Played in pouring rain and scorching sun. Gradually grew up. Without ever complaining.
The routine continued even after I left the school. The educationists, governors, ministers and chancellors were regular visitors to the college as well as the university. But no cars with blue or red beacons. Virtually, no noise or nuisance on the road. The ‘sirens’ were heard only during war. Life was simple. Straight. Never heard the word ‘stress’ or ‘suicide’ during my days at school, college or university.
Today, it is a different world. Everything appears to have changed. While I continue to enjoy the good things of life, I see the children leading a wholly protected existence. Drinking bottled milk and water. Eating fat-free food. They go to the school in a bus or car. Preferably airconditioned. The principal cannot punish her pupils. Everybody says that the system should be free from stress. The educationists adopt the populist line and propose to eliminate the examinations.
Why? When and where will the children learn to face the storms of life? To struggle for success? Probably, we shall have young men who will carry the knowledge of the world in a pocket computer. But will they be able to stand the strain and stress that the present-day materialistic world poses? How will they survive in the ruthlessly competitive environment that we live in?
Thus, I am never tired of pestering my children and grandchildren. The grandson often tells me — ‘Dadu! Please chill.’ Yet, the concern remains constant. Looking back, I realise that tough times in early years make for a strong body and mind in later life. It lends a spring to every step.
So, I enter the solemn seventies with lots of optimism. Just as the setting sun lends bright colours to the sky, I am sure the years bring a rare rhythm to the life’s routine. Today, the numbers may count me old. Still, I have something of the youth. I look forward to another decade with no signs of decay. I savour the thought. The seventies shall be smooth and satisfying.
I was born in a small town. Not in a fancy nursing home. But in a small bedroom. No inoculations or vaccinations. No fuss. Everyone drank water from the pump. Ate chaat and sweets laid out in the open. Walked to the school. Sat on the floor. Learnt to write on a wooden board. Sometimes, studied under the light of a kerosene lamp. The teachers were tough. Wielded the rod regularly. The defaulters were punished without any distinction. Played in pouring rain and scorching sun. Gradually grew up. Without ever complaining.
The routine continued even after I left the school. The educationists, governors, ministers and chancellors were regular visitors to the college as well as the university. But no cars with blue or red beacons. Virtually, no noise or nuisance on the road. The ‘sirens’ were heard only during war. Life was simple. Straight. Never heard the word ‘stress’ or ‘suicide’ during my days at school, college or university.
Today, it is a different world. Everything appears to have changed. While I continue to enjoy the good things of life, I see the children leading a wholly protected existence. Drinking bottled milk and water. Eating fat-free food. They go to the school in a bus or car. Preferably airconditioned. The principal cannot punish her pupils. Everybody says that the system should be free from stress. The educationists adopt the populist line and propose to eliminate the examinations.
Why? When and where will the children learn to face the storms of life? To struggle for success? Probably, we shall have young men who will carry the knowledge of the world in a pocket computer. But will they be able to stand the strain and stress that the present-day materialistic world poses? How will they survive in the ruthlessly competitive environment that we live in?
Thus, I am never tired of pestering my children and grandchildren. The grandson often tells me — ‘Dadu! Please chill.’ Yet, the concern remains constant. Looking back, I realise that tough times in early years make for a strong body and mind in later life. It lends a spring to every step.
So, I enter the solemn seventies with lots of optimism. Just as the setting sun lends bright colours to the sky, I am sure the years bring a rare rhythm to the life’s routine. Today, the numbers may count me old. Still, I have something of the youth. I look forward to another decade with no signs of decay. I savour the thought. The seventies shall be smooth and satisfying.
Source: The Tribune, Chandigarh, India
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