STILL THERE'S HOPE

Story

Amrik Singh Kanda (Dr)

STILL THERE'S HOPE

The parrots, twittering aloud, have begun to perch on the branches of the guava trees. Their twittering stops after awhile. All the three or four trees are full of parrots. All of them are biting the guavas. Some of them make some noise. This spectacle comes before my eyes almost daily. Sometimes I too have a flight of imagination and go to sit with those parrots. I listen to what they say though all that they say is not understood by me.Again, in my flight of imagination, I want to sit with those parrots when the school opens.

The peon tolled the bell with all his strength. No, no….I was sitting too close to the bell. Many of the parrots flew away on hearingthe bell. Barely five or seven parrots had remained there. I like thebirds very much, in fact, more than human beings. The poor things perform their duty honestly from dawn to dusk. They bring up their offspring without any selfish ends. They are very particular in the performance of their duty.I have been teaching for nearly thirty two years. There are seventeen teachers, including me, in our school: ten are the mesdames and five of us are the brave warriors. A girl has been employed out of PTA funds. The seventeenth one is the Principal himself. He is Mr. Gurdev Singh. The Principal has not yet reached the school. Our peon and I only are present.The third one, Sarabjit, has also come. She comes early. Because of shortage of staff, she has been temporarily engaged by ourPrincipal out of the PTA funds. She is M. Ed. She does more teaching than all the other teachers but she is paid much less than all the other teachers: just fifteen hundred rupees per month. Sometimes I take pity on her. But I can't do anything except taking pity. Now,Madam Kusum too has come. She would come to me now and say,

"The bus service is very bad, very irregular indeed. Good morning, sir. "

She makes this lame excuse before formally wishing me good morning. She has a packet of sweets in her hand. I got stunned when she told me that her husband, who was a science master, had passed his M.A. He had been appointed a lecturer in Economics. It is verystrange. Science and Economics are two different subjects. I do not talk to Madam on this subject. She is very much younger in age. She did not attend the school last year. She came to school ten to twelve times only to receive her salary. When she came one day, Master Chamkaur had said in the staff room,"Blessed is our government which gives maternity leave of one hundred and eighty days, Makhan. Let's pray to God to make us women in the next birth."

'Giving birth to a baby is just an excuse, Madam has opened a boutique. She did not invite us at its opening nor did she throw a party.' Said Makhan.

Hot words were exchanged that day. This reached Principal's ears also. The Principal and I had calmed them down with great difficulty. Since then, Madam avoided sitting with us.Children have come out of the classes. They are whispering something to one another. The prayer has begun. When had Master Duni Chand moved towards me during the prayer, I did not know?

Master Duni Chand ranks first among the late comers. He has many excuses. If you ask him about his late coming, he would say,

"Very strange! Don't you know that today is the Final of the One Day International (Day and night) between India and Australia? I

have come only to mark my attendance. I would have furlough to watch Indian batting."

"But the Principal has been very much annoyed with you since yesterday." I said to him.

"When he has not come himself, what would he say to me? I don't care for any one at all. If it comes to such a pass, I will take a day's casual leave. After all what is casual leave meant for? Just see how Sachin bats. He will demolish the Australian line up. And look here, teachers, you should not burden your mind too much!"

I had not liked Duni Chand's stance for the first time. The Principal enters the school at the conclusion of prayer. He has gone to his office straightway. The students are going to their class rooms.

"Brar would be dealt with properly today, dear. " Master Duni

Chand says to me. Makhan Brar is the fourth one dear to us. He is less of a teacher and more of a driver. He owns two trucks. He talks of his trucks in the school also. Our Mesdames do not sit near him. Brar does not realize that he begins to abuse while talking.'What kind of life is this, dear teachers. The day we had taken the children to circus, the idiot broke the pivot-groove. The sisterfucker does not know how to change the gear and 'sits on the gear'.

The other truck had both the tyers flat. I got a ring from Siliguri asto what should he do and I told him to do his mother's……..Whatelse could he do?'

"What is this 'pivot and groove' asked Master Duni Chand by mistake.

"Shut up you bania (shopkeeper). You are enjoying. Both you and your wife are drawing good salaries. The groove and pivot are in the shaft of the truck. And you would not know what is shaft."

He generally talked like this. Let us see what the Principal does today. He has himself come late. What would he say to him? The

Principal had told Makhan once or twice,

"You are daily coming late, my boy. If the DEO comes on a special checking, what would I say?"

"Shall I have a phone call made to you by the Jathedar?"

The Principal is terribly afraid of Makhan. He is very close to the Education Minister. The DEO has been transferred once or twice at Makhan's instance. Just see, Pandit Tirath Ram has also come. He is our Hindi Teacher. Talking to him is like getting caught in his web. One day Madam Shahi asked him,

'Why are you late, sir, today?'

'There was a havan (sacrificial fire ritual of Hindus) at some one's place.' This is true mostly.

'So you have come to school after earning for the day.'

'I don't have a side business like you, madam.'

'You can also try doing side business. You will come to know.You recite a few mantras (hymns) and make a sum of five hundred rupees for nothing. No investment and no loss,' said madam firmly.

She had very hot arguments with the teacher. All of us were able to calm them down with great difficulty. There is another teacher in our school. He is Chamkaur Singh Gill. He is our fifth beloved. We all call him 'Gill Sahib.' He runs a meat shop. His younger brother sits there. But Gill runs the entire business. Gill has got a mobile. He rings up on the mobile generally:

'Send ten kg of champ (fleshy rib bone) and fifteen kg of kaleji (liver) to Disco Palace. You can send for kaleji and listen to me. You can add five kg of boneless meat also. Obtain order from Hotel Dilruba. Some balance is also due from them out of yesterday's payment. Get it. If there is anything, you can ring me at the mobile.

Have you followed me? OK. "

I was surprised. I asked Chamkaur,

"How do you get so much liver and from where?"

"People eat meat like cattle. We feed them cattle liver. A goat has just half a pound of liver. They order us to send forty kg of liver. Some one should ask these bastards if the liver was like petha (sweetened white gourd) of Agra, available in bulk at shops, to be supplied to them." He explained to me about the quantity of liver in one breath.

"And what about this chicken broiler? It must be all right."

"You are so simple, dear master. Don't burden your mind too much. Everything is fair in business."

I have never seen Chamkaur taking his period and if ever he  enters the class, he would relate obscene tidbits to children.Chamkaur and Makhan are very thick with each other. But Duni Chand keeps a distance from them. All of them come to me and share their views. I have good relations with the Principal also. I am older in age and in experience too. They talk to me freely.The Mesdames are also coming. Madam Shakuntala and Madam

Shahi have come. They are generally late in coming. They are mostly on casual leave. See, Madam Bhullar has also come. She drinks cold water as soon as she comes. Then she takes the mirror out of her purse to check her make up. The Mesdames in our school have about 40 per cent of attendance. Today also only four out of ten have come.Even if all the ten come to school, they have nothing to do except quarreling with one another. They have formed duos. If one does not attend, the other also absents herself.

Madam Bhullar is a wonderful woman. She is very bold and generous. One day my daughter asked me to buy her a computer.Government grants us a loan for buying a computer on interest free installments. I filled in the form, prepared the file and requested madam Bhullar to stand surety thereon. But she said to me,

"I wont stand surety at all and don't ask me to do so again."

"But madam, I have to buy a computer for my daughter and without surety it would not be possible."

"I can give you twenty thousand rupees which you can return when you find it convenient to do so."

She took cheque book out of her purse and drew a cheque and handed it to me. I was wondering whether she had sufficient balance

in her account. She spends lavishly on herself. But when I checked up with the Bank clerk about the balance, I was stunned.'

'Nine lakh rupees is the balance in the account of Mrs. AG I of FCI."

I returned to school and asked her,

"Don't you ever withdraw your salary, madam".

"I never have the need to,' said she casually.

"Phone call for you, madam Bhullar,' said the peon entering the room.

"Who is on the line?'

"Madam Joyti."

Shakuntala and Shashi begin to laugh. Shashi says,"See how she misses her. That is why she has phoned up."

"I have come to know she had an abortion.'

"Abortion is an excuse only. I learn that she has set up a Beauty Parlour. She has gone on leave with pay for forty two days. "

Madam Joyti is madam Bhullar's friend. She is our Punjabi teacher. She has not come to school today. Four or five Mesdames make phone calls and four or five of them receive calls during the day.They ask one another about the design they are making on sweaters being knitted by them, or the neck of their shirt, whether low or high, or the embroidery on their shirts. Also about the clearance sales, wherever held, or the programme for the day, or the places to be visited during summer vacation, or about the film being released.

"Anything new, sir?" said Shashi to me.

"What new can be with me, madam? I'm just passing time."

"Has Suman-Neeru duo not come today?"

"Applications have been received. The Principal knows,' said I just to put her off.

One day Master Duni Chand was preparing a list. I asked him, "What are you doing Master? What are these numbers you have written?"

He had written about twenty-five to thirty names with numbers.

"Oh nothing. It's about Manu's birthday. My wife says that it should be celebrated. Manu is also insisting. So I came to school early. I am going to ring up my friends."

Master Duni Chand placed the list on the table and began to dial the numbers. The official telephone 'talked' for forty five minutes.Our Chamkaur Gill also does likewise. He prepares the list at home and brings it to school. He dials five to seven numbers. To me the school appears to be more of a PCO than a school. It is mid day break. We, five beloved ones and Mesdames hand over our lunch boxes to Santu, a student of tenth class. "Heat up all the vegetables, Santu. Be careful, don't burn as you did yesterday." Said Makhan in a commanding tone.

"Where has Disha kept the butter milk, Santu?"

"It's in the can behind the door, sir."

Everybody had his/her lunch. Santu and Disha are washing our lunch boxes. As usual, I switch on my radio for the news. Some noted doctor is giving a lecture about child-labour. But child-labour is being done before my eyes. I am hearing with my ears and seeing with my eyes. I think of these children as to what would be their

future? They are all blowing their own trumpet. What are we, the teachers, doing in this direction?

"Switch off the radio, sir. We will take you with us this time for the rally to be held at Matka Chowk. It would be an eye opener for the authorities." Master Chamkaur switches off my radio and brings me back to the present.

"My promotion is held up. I went to Chandigarh day before yesterday to file a case." "May we go now, sir?" the boys ask us.

"The Master has come, my sons. Prepare three cups of tea of 60 mile speed (very strong tea). Then you may go."

"No, no. I won't take tea, etc." Said Waheguru.

"Then we would get ' etc.' "

"No, I have already had a peg."

"Go there, Santu. Fetch a bottle."

"During school hours….?' I asked him.

"What is the harm in school hours? Our friend has come. We must look after him properly. We will sit at the grocery shop outside.You can also come along. You keep busy the whole day taking your periods. No one is going to award you a gold medal.'

They stood up and went out to the grocery shop. I keep sitting there in silence.

"Yes, Master, if the Principal objects in any way, tell him that I have taken casual leave."

I am reminded of what happened the last month. I was going to the staff room after taking my period. The mesdames were talking loudly about me and laughing.

'Has the tic not come today?'

'Must be busy somewhere taking his period.'

'He has spent the whole life like this. Just ask him if he would have his students appointed as DCs ' said master Chamkaur.'Those taught by him would certainly become DCs.' Said Shashi.

"He is a kill-joy, sala (wife's brother, an abusive term)." Said Makhan

It was for the first time that day that I came to know my real name. In how much esteem they hold me, I also came to know. I look at today's newspaper:

"Every government school teacher has filed cases in the courts.No one is paying attention to teaching. All the teachers are engaged in seeking transfers, holding rallies and filing court cases." The rest of the news was covered by the gravy spilt over it. This was the paper which had been spread on the table when we sat for lunch.

Sometimes I think of leaving my job. But then I think "What else can I do? I have no other way. I have just a year now before I retire.I have managed my life only with the salary received from government. I gave no tuition nor had a side business and if I may say so, I know of nothing else to do. My daughters have grown up.

They are of marriageable age today. I have held tightly the value of honesty the whole of my life. But honesty seems to have become troublesome for me now. The entire set-up has turned bad.I am ready to go to school an hour before the school time. One morning some one rang the bell. I opened the door. A car and a gypsy were before our door. A very well dressed gentleman stood before me. There were two body-guards on both sides of the gentleman. I was about to ask them as to who they were when the gentleman came to me and touched my feet. I looked at him carefully.

'You have not recognized me, sir, perhaps. I am Ranjan.'

I take him in my embrace. I open the door of the sitting room and beckon them to sit down. But I am also feeling that I don't have a sofa for the guests to sit in.

'Sir, I had cleared IAS. I am now D.C. Ludhiana. It's all because of your blessings."

'It's a matter of great pleasure for me."I am feeling proud of myself. I am very happy. Those boys were very gentle. They were afraid of us. They paid due attention to their studies and they talked to us very respectfully. Bad times have come now. No teacher can chide a child now.

'So how's life, sir?' said the D.C.

'It's all right. Time is passing…..nicely.' I return to the present from the past.

'Sir, I wish to give a present to you. Kindly accept it, don't say no. Ever since you began teaching you have been going to school on cycle. I have brought a new scooter for you.'

'But, my boy….' I want to say something but I can't think of anything.'I know sir, how you feel. I talk often to my friends about your honesty. Our country has survived because of people like you. '

We talked of the past for some time. They left after taking tea. I reach the school fifteen minutes before time as usual. I feel very happy today. I feel like scratching the palm of my right hand. I am reminded of my father who used to say,'If you feel like scratching your right hand palm, it means you are going to get some money.'

The peon dropped the newspaper and went away. There is a news in the paper on the front page about the holidays enjoyed by teachers.

"Holidays in Government schools-Out of 365 days, there are holidays in schools for 224 days."I read the news quickly. There are 52 Sundays in one year, 26 Saturdays, 30 days summer vacation, five local holidays, 8 Christmas holidays, ten holidays in April, 25 gazetted holidays, 24 home tests, 20 days on election duty, census, literacy drive, house numbering, 12 casual leave, six holidays for film showing, magic shows, circus, etc. "

'Sir, the Principal has called you,' said the peon.

I am surprised that the Principal had come to school before time.Hope everything is all right. What could be the matter? When I went to the Principal, he wished me and asked me to take my seat.

"We have taken over a Model School already functioning in the neighbouring village. As you know, no work is proving to be paying. My son has grown up. There is no other work which can suit him. We thought of opening a school for him,' the Principal said all this in one breath.

"What are the orders for me," said I.

"You have just one year to retire. You have a vast experience.

You can join my school, if you like, without any condition." The Principal opened his mind.

"This is a project involving lakhs of rupees, sir. I have nothing to invest."

"We will appoint you as Principal of the school. It this is acceptable to you, you can join from tomorrow."

"But sir, I am already employed here."

"Who has to mark the attendance, my brother? You need not worry about this side. You can go and run my school. I will manage everything here. Draw your salary from both sides. You can think over this for two or three days. If you agree, you can get into my car standing there. You can take charge even today itself. If there is anything else, or you need any kind of help, do let me know."

I think for once about myself, about my daughters who have grown up, about my house. My inside is shaken. My feet move automatically towards the car outside the gate. I open the car door and get seated inside when I am reminded of what Ranjan had said -

"Our country has survived because of people like you."

I come out of the car and go to the staff room. The parrots perched on the tress are biting guavas as usual. It seems to me as if our school is a garden and its gardener and teachers have become parrots and biting the Government and the society. These birds, the parrots, are present on duty. But the teacher parrots have not yet come.

I like these birds, parrots, more than the teachers.

Written by Amrik Singh Kanda (Dr)
Email askandamoga@gmail.com,askandamoga@yahoo.com
Residence:1764-Guru Ram Dass Nagar Near Nestle Moga -142001 (punjab) INDIA