A Spring Moonshine

ojaantrik · Jun 2, 2015

Dear Jayasala 42,

Nice to know about your interest in teaching. Also about your father's contribution to the cause of education. I have always respected such people. There are all kinds of teachers, but the ones I like most are the ones who teach for the sheer pleasure of teaching. Not all my teachers were made this way. But some surely were. Can't forget them.

Best regards.

OJ

shyamala1234 · Jun 3, 2015

Dear Ojantrikji,
Excellent one and what a photographic memory you have!!!! I felt as if I was walking on all those roads you mentioned (thought I have never been there).

Yes, walking back life in reverse gear....many incidents and decisions which have conflict in them, could not decide properly what to do and what not to do. Later on some decisions we might regret but cannot do anything now. Life doesn't run like a copy book. But the incident you mentioned is definitely a spring moonshine. Because you became a teacher later in life and liked the profession passionately and could not teach an intelligent student which you could have, bugs you now. At that time you were only 18, conflict between money and teaching, were immature. If now you could have taught her free (teachers dream for such students who wanted to try a challenging problem even before the teacher explains it!).
These little little memories remain forever and they depict one's personality, line of thinking.
If you had not become a teacher you would never have regretted or even remembered this incident!

Thank you.
Syamala

ojaantrik · Jun 3, 2015

How correct you are Shyamala!! You must be right when you say that I wouldn't have remembered this inconsequential incident had I not chosen teaching as a profession. Yes, that's certainly correct. Life went about its blissful way and suddenly turned around and put me up on the dock facing the ultimate judge. Quite unexpectedly, I admit. Will S/He forgive me? Who knows! But I do feel guilty.

oj

Cheeniya · Jun 3, 2015

My dear OJ
First things first! I have read Summer Moonshine not once but several times but I do not intend reading Spring Moonshine more than three or four times. The former was a delightful read and made me laugh every time I read it and yours depressed me a lot the very first time I read it. I know the feeling of depression will keep increasing every time I read it. As an Economist, you know the Law of Diminishing Utility but this is the reverse of it though feeling depressed can be hardly classified as an utility. I just quote a line from Summer Moonshine: ‘He was in the frame of mind when a weaker man would have started writing poetry.’ Doesn’t it make you smile?

And compare this with yours: ‘ Like the smile on the little girl's face. The girl whose name I shall, sadly enough, never be able to recall anymore.’ The damn thing gives me a lump in my throat. I know that you have used the word ‘Moonshine’ in the sense of ‘foolish talk’. That applies well to Wodehouse’s Moonshine which takes the British connotation of nonsense or silliness. Certainly, this novel has a carefree absurdity which reminded me a bit of Shakespeare’s A Midsummer Night’s Dream. But your moonshine has nothing nonsensical about it. On the contrary it is as dark and as gloomy as the movies of Bengali veterans!

In Tamil, there is a saying that even a devil will have a soft corner for a girl. But you did not have that. Will your feeling sorry for that girl absolve you of your abdication of your responsibility on the question of economic viability? If the girl’s father snooped on your tutoring sitting behind you, you have broken even with him by never returning to his house. This is what we call in our early exercises in English Composition as ‘Tit for tat’. Of course, you have termed it as ‘ taking the easy way out’.

Are you taken aback by how I have become a severe critic of yours? Take it easy my dear OJ! Treat it as Wodehouse did of a critic of his: “ A certain critic -- for such men, I regret to say, do exist -- made the nasty remark about my last novel that it contained 'all the old Wodehouse characters under different names.' He has probably by now been eaten by bears, like the children who made mock of the prophet Elisha: but if he still survives he will not be able to make a similar charge against Summer Lightning. With my superior intelligence, I have out-generalled the man this time by putting in all the old Wodehouse characters under the same names. Pretty silly it will make him feel, I rather fancy.”

Seriously all the waiting for your next Snippet has not been in vain. It was like Srama’s Rainbow for the starved eyes! Talking about your memory or your classy prose will be like carrying whatever to wherever!
Sri

ojaantrik · Jun 4, 2015

Dear Cheeniya,

You are far too erudite a person not to be familiar with the period of history referred to as the Bengal Renaissance. It was brought about by Raja Ram Mohan Roy, Prince Dwarka Nath Tagore and many others. Indeed, had it not been for the Reneaissance, the widow remarriage bill would never have been passed in India. Nor the horrifyingly cruel Sati custom abolished.

There was yet another person who was closely linked to the Renaissance and widow remarriage. This was Pandit Ishwar Chandra Vidyasagar, the great social reformer and educationist of the 19th century. What I am about to tell you involves Vidyasagar indirectly and you, Cheeniya, directly.

Soon after the Sepoy Mutiny of 1858 (around 1862 I think), a person called Dinabandhu Mitra published a play in Bengali called Neel Darpan (or, Nil Darpan, as Bengalis call it). Neel here refers to indigo. The play "mirrors'' the plight of the indigo farmers of Bengal and the sickening manner in which the colonial rulers exploited them. Some refer to the uprising associated with indigo plantation as the Indigo Revolution of Bengal. I think Mitra published the play from Dacca (under a pseudonym, since he was a government servant) and it was Michael Madhusudan Dutt who was given charge of translating it into English for the benefit of the English masters. Either you are fully aware of these matters or you can easily google them up for more details.

Coming back to the matter at hand, Ardhendu Shekhar Mustafi was a renowned stage actor of the 19th century. And he acted in the play after Girish Chandra Ghosh, a pioneer of Bengali theatre (and later disciple of Ramakrishna Paramhamsa) established the "National Theatre" in Calcutta. He played several roles in the play, but most importantly that of an Englishman, one of the dirtiest rogues ever portrayed in theatre. There is a scene in the play where a poor farmer's wife is abducted and the Englishman attempts to **** her. I read the play many years ago and don't have it at hand right now. But I still remember the ghastly dialogue. Translated, it runs somewhat along the following lines. The helpless woman says, "Please let me go baba (my father), please ..." And the Englishman guffaws as he replies, "I am not your father, but am going to be your son's father soon." The lines are unforgettable, they keep ringing in my mind, because they produced a lump in my throat, much like the one you felt in yours after reading my snippet.

Pandit Ishwar Chandra Vidyasagar was invited to one of the performances and when this particular scene was being performed, he forgot himself totally as he took off one of his chappals and threw it at Ardhendu Shekhar Mustafi, who was playing the dirty Englishman on stage.

The audience was stunned, but not Ardhendu Shekhar. He stopped acting and came forward on the stage holding Vidyasagar's slipper to his forehead. And then he said, "This is the greatest recognition I have ever received for my acting skill."

No cultured Bengali is unaware of this incident. I added the word "cultured", because I am not sure what today's Bengalis know about their past.

Do I have to tell you anymore, except that your reaction to my snippet elevated me to the stature of Ardhendu Shekhar Mustafi rather than that of the "dark and .. gloomy ... (movie making) ... Bengali veterans"? You have often praised my writing, but never this way. I shall remain indebted to you forever for being moved by it. I do not know many who would have understood me so completely. I know that I did succeed in transferring my feelings to you. Let me assure you that no less a lump afflicted my throat as I wrote the snippet. And I tried my best to put it as casually and cruelly as possible.

With this, my friend, I rest my case.

oj

Cheeniya · Jun 4, 2015

Lumps, lumps and more lumps! You are choking me old man!
A small difference though!
Mustafi was acting out a role written for him so efficiently that Pandit Ishwar Chandra Vidyasagar could not bear the cruelty that he was witnessing and threw his chappal at the performing artist.
But my dear OJ, you were performing your own script here and made me feel very upset about that nameless girl who the mists of time had swallowed. Mustafi was honoured for his acting skill. You are being honoured for your writing skill.
I'll wait for the lumps in my throat to clear away.
Sri

meenasankaran · Jun 4, 2015

Dear OJ sir,

You are a master story-teller indeed. In the five minutes that I spent reading (and re-reading) your snippet, I walked right behind you walking north on Manoharpukur Road towards the crossing with Landsdowne Road looking for the 'lean and long' multi-tenanted building that once housed an intelligent girl with an appetite for learning. The raw honesty of your narrative brought that lump to my throat too. I would like to think that your student beat all odds, got an excellent education and went on to do great things with her life. Her face may have faded out in your memory but she never will. How can you ever forget her now that she has been brought alive with your words. Do write more OJ sir. It is a pleasure to read you.

ojaantrik · Jun 5, 2015

Dear Meenasankaran,

Thank you for your kind words and understanding. Yes, I want to tell stories, but life's stories. Stories that all of us experience. Some we forget, some we do not. What surprises me is that even the most insignificant among us go through these experiences, experiences that can make people smile or cry. They don't change the world, but without them the world wouldn't exist. This beautiful world, this sadly, madly beautiful world. As I have often told Cheeniya, the true master in this art was R.K. Narayan. He agrees with me I am sure, despite his (as well as my) love for Wodehouse. I can never match his genius, but he can always show me the way.

Of course, Cheeniya will quickly point out to me that Malgudi was fictional after all, while I write about brutal realities. He is right, but only to an extent, I wish to believe. I can't believe that RK didn't pick up his characters from real life and transport them to the fairy Malgudi land. His characters were too true to life not to be true-life.

I hope I can keep on writing. I have a website and it contains a section called Giggles and Sniffles. Cheeniya knows all about it. So he knows very well that the reverse side of my giggle coin are the sniffles. He will forgive me I without a doubt for turning so cruel sometimes. He knows that I suffer no less that he when I bring up the darkness surrounding life!!

Thank you for being so sensitive and following through my real life Malgudi journey.

Best regards.

oj

iyerviji · Jun 5, 2015

My dear OJ da

First of all congratulations for the excellent thread nominated by Meena. Your narration and your memory of the roads is so superb. Since she was interested in learning I think she must have shined in life and doing well now. Your post brough me memories of those days when the price of everything so was less but still due to financial problems we could not buy. I used to love icecream which was only 4 annas but could not buy at that time. Now children enjoy whatever they like because their parents are doing well but at our times only father used to earn and take care of a big family.

My father asked me to become a Teacher and I even got the job in my own school after I finished by Xth but teaching was not my cup of tea as I was very quiet type at that time and not so bold. I was to teach for primary section. The Superiors were good and our Mother Superior too but I taught only for two months in the school and left the job. Our Mother Superior told me not to leave th ejob and get fixed in one job but I was determined. But since I did not get any job I gave tuitions to my best friends niece and nephews. After they got married and I had gone to Hyderabad, my friend's nephew was telling that aunty today if my children are studying well its because of you , who taught us so well. Though I did not become a teacher in School I was happy that I could give tuitions. I was very fond of Maths and took optional subject Maths and used to like Trignometry very much.

Thanks for bringing sweet memories

ojaantrik · Jun 6, 2015

Thank you Pashenka for this trip down memory lane. Having been a teacher all my life, I can understand how you feel about the students you taught. I can also understand the pleasure that your teaching brought you. Teaching an eager student is one sure way of finding happiness. Especially when you see the student mature. To tell you frankly, I consider myself extremely lucky that I came across students who questioned my teaching and even found faults with what I taught. They were the best teachers I ever came across in my life.

Regards.

oj-da