Talks on the campus

At Hazrat Nizamuddin Dargah..Mausaji-Professor Ram Prasad Nawani and me. Charting new horizons together

At Hazrat Nizamuddin Dargah..Mausaji-Professor Ram Prasad Nawani and me. Charting new horizons together

A teacher affects eternity; we can never tell where his influence stops

                                                                                    Henry Adams

 

“Watch the genesis of thought patterns” he told me over the phone. Over the years, the professor has been teaching and imbibing his thought processes and teaching methods on me. Mathematics to Slokas, the Indian story with it’s nuances and richness. Hawkings, Newton discussed while watching sunsets from hill tops.

 

Where is your name in the book, I had asked him last year, on seeing a book of essays on political science , which clearly showed that it was his work. A year before that, we had sat together at the Lodhi tombs of Delhi, one quiet early winter evening and he had told me about Whiggism and it’s parallels in the Indian freedom movement.

 

“My presence in the book is like that sun in the photograph you once gave me, hidden by the trees, giving light, showing it’s presence but not seen directly.”

 

Going back a few years, on a walking through the alleys of the Hazrat Nizamuddin in Delhi, he had told me.

 

“I do not teach the students how to solve the theorem. I show them the genesis of the theorem. The solution they can find in any guide book. The role and task of the teacher is to show the students the genesis of thought.” He has set a high standard for himself.

 

Pythagoras, Aryabhatt, Kalidas, Shakespeare, Lenin, Gandhi all blend into this multifaceted academic.

 

“What do you think of George Bernard Shaw” he had challenged me one day, over a decade ago, when I used to be very heady and opinionated.

 

“It has been a long journey for me” he said, recalling his childhood days on the banks of one of the tributaries feeding the Ganga, in the hills beyond Rishikesh, where the waters are at times just a small stream flowing amidst the mighty mountains. Trickling down, slowly but steadily over kilometers and decades, one finds an edifice inspiring and educative.

 

He is one of the persons who first taught me the joys of reading groups and making small notes from interesting things one has read. We would sit together and study Enid Blyton together, in Pune cantonment.

 

 The habit of keeping those small notebooks has developed over the decades, and added profound richness.

 

 

 

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Walks

O little Child-Teach me to deal with persons more personally and less anonymously..Ramblings on a beach. Aksa Bombay-Oct 27,2008

O little Child-Teach me to deal with persons more personally and less anonymously..Ramblings on a beach. Aksa Bombay-Oct 27,2008

 

Walking, like visiting museums, is another of our family traditions. My father’s grandfather first started taking him for walks in the hills of Shimla. His father and uncles carried him on their shoulders up the temple hills of Shimla, feeding peanuts to monkeys

at Jakhoo or listening to Aartis at Kalibari.

 

Walking in the hills. Meditations by the river Ganga. Lovely walks beyond Laxman Jhula-Rishikesh

Walking in the hills. Meditations by the river Ganga. Lovely walks beyond Laxman Jhula-Rishikesh

Diyas floating by the Ganga.

 

The walks beyond Laxman Jhula in Rishikesh where the Ganga first comes into the plains is a spiritual experience connecting one through millennia of worshippers, practitioners and thinkers. The songs of the Indian nation with it’s dreams and defeats, victories and hopes, aspirations and workings.

The world-My Home

The world-My Home

Drawing lines on the beaches has been another of our favorites over the decades, sand houses now turning into concrete realties as life evolves and one has to build further.

Runs on the Sand. Practice like the great long distance runners of Africa

Runs on the Sand. Practice like the great long distance runners of Africa

Run like the great runners of Africa, I told my sons as they practiced on the beaches of Aksa, passing through the Portuguese areas of Mumbai, where the guitar strumming and humming carry us to different planes.

Music of the soul. Many many thanks to Ossie Sir (Maben Oswald)

Music of the soul. Many many thanks to Ossie Sir (Maben Oswald)

Over generations and varied experiences one has learnt from different traditions about life and death. Everybody knows that they are going to die, but nobody believes it. If we did, we would do things differently.

 

“Do what the Buddhists do. Every day, have a little bird on your shoulder that asks,

‘Is today the day? Am I ready? Am I doing all I need to do? Am I being the person I want to be?’ “

 

Sunset in the sands of Aksa-Bombay..Sagar,Sahil making houses on the sand, Mamta and her father walking by the sea in the horizons

Sunset in the sands of Aksa-Bombay..Sagar,Sahil making houses on the sand, Mamta and her father walking by the sea in the horizons

Turn your head to your shoulder as if the bird is there now.

 

Take a walk on the cool side.

 

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Journey Back

Dubai International Airport

            Reached Dubai via Tunis, along with a fellow Indian who is

            working in Misuraata.

           

           “I go to work and then stay in my house. I am away from my

            family so what difference does it make whether I live in a remote

            place or in the capital,” he said. “In fact in the remote place, there

            are no distractions, the company takes care of you more and you

            end up saving some more money.”

 

            Dubai-Remembering the previous times I have been to Dubai.

            Here, you see the working people on the move, internationally.

            New fountains and interior landscaping.

            People buying liquor and gifts. I watched on. The Gita was

            there to turn through.

 

            Bombay-Mamta was waiting for me. The children were happy

            In Malad. They have grown taller and more sensitive.

            “Papa, now stay with us here. No need to go back” was the

            sentiment I heard many times in different ways.

 

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