How can the Indian System of Education Be Changed For a Better Tomorrow?

The following essay was my entry for an essay contest organized by the Tatas: How can the Indian System of Education be changed for a brighter tomorrow?

To Sir, With Love?

Am I a Bramhachari, seated in my Gurukul? Marcus Brutus, in the text before me, fervently begs to differ. Doesn’t the fact that our syllabus includes ‘Julius Caesar’ and not ‘The Mahabharata’ amply justify the notion that our Indian System of Education, ironically, doesn’t seem to be very Indian and certainly quite unlike the ancient Sacred Syllabus? Another conspicuous difference between our ancestral ‘pure-blooded prodigies’ and us is that, though we too are born with ‘The Right to Education’, we need not prove it by means of an exceptional lineage. Education today is for all. Therefore just as India, and the meaning of ‘Being Indian’ have changed, so has Indian Education aptly metamorphosed out of ever-altering necessities. Hence, Brutus, ignorantly, makes a fourth error of judgment.

Evolution, they say, is a constantly accidental process. Therefore, one cannot fairly expect perfection from such accidents. Similarly, education, too cannot be just a carry over of its form in the past. Nothing in the education system today is as astonishing as the amount of ignorance it accumulates in the form of inert facts which demand to be ‘known’ for the sole purpose of ‘making the grade’. And that translates exponentially into the number of ‘dropouts’. The applicability of today’s education stands doubted.

Learning – and not wisdom - today is a requisite for survival, which brings us to the question: What is, after all, a brighter tomorrow? It cannot be a mere projection, or an increment in the definition of ‘success’. A brighter tomorrow demands better ‘humanitarians’, eco-friendly citizens, original leaders, and a more congenial society; and education is the fulcrum of it all.

“Man's mind, once stretched by a new idea, never regains its original dimensions.” And that should be the impetus an education provides. It shouldn’t be the answer that enlightens, but the question. The system needs to be re-modeled into one that entices to think and reason instead of merely remember. The foresighted educationist must remember that spoon feeding inert facts in the long run teaches students nothing but the shape of the spoon. Syllabuses should be interwoven with applicability and practical projects. The goal apart from knowledge alone should achieve skills of leadership, self-reflection, values and etiquette, nuances of team work, people skills, personality development, strategy and perseverance modeled into simple, interesting and palatable projects and practicals; exercises enhancing conceptualization, creativity and originality should be carefully formulated and implemented.

A poor surgeon hurts one person at a time. A poor teacher hurts 100. Education is one of the most responsible careers and deserves incentives to make it worthwhile for skillful professionals to thrive in this field and in turn multiply their skill by reflecting it to the multitude of untempered metal. And if that makes you think education is expensive, try ignorance.

A good school should be like a good restaurant. You need nutritious, palatable food cooked by a recognized and remunerated chef, served aesthetically & in good ambience. And as far as caliber is concerned, we Indian students sure have the appetite and more.

Halo'ed Be Thy Name

Halo'ed Be Thy Name

The History for Dummies almanac had been on page 2 for about fifty two minutes. I mercilessly sat over it, strangulating the now disfigured rear cover each time my 'aspiring to be long' hair canopied the even more disfigured six string which lay teased on my lap. Strains of Nirvana reverberated in my bedroom and this redundant vista continued, only occasionally interjected with the wiping of my nose. I being all of Sixteen had to do what ‘sixteen year olds’ do – I planned an ‘all night rock pandemonium session’ (enthusiastically referring to the thesaurus to christen it). After an hour, however, the music gradually seemed to fade out.

The centre of my window seemed bright. Now high on Cobain (or feebly attempting to) I drowsily wondered if that was a compliment to my shiny teeth. The spot grew to the size of a fist. Maybe it was my sparkling eyes then. It radiated further – now vivid, I got livid. It lured me, even with a essence of purpose. My senses fashioned feelings which made me believe that I had been made to see this light – feel this light – and eventually be the light. My chewed nails set off towards it. I exited into the balcony. My eyes remained fixed on the glow. It seemed to sense my ponderings and called out to me by a twinge in my nerves. It was soft and warm but not an ally of the eyes. It moved – slow; fast! It reminded me of the celebrated spotlight around Mr. Bond and I was obliged to ‘die another day’. My vision was compelled to give in as the aura encircled me.

Then the silence died. Loud roars, cheers raced in. The light, now huge and all around me grew brighter and flickered in different shades constantly. Ten million brown and black dots were ahead. Their round white sockets pierced seared through me like the million pixels of album art of a classic album. I made a swift move. They roared at the distorted and overdriven noise. Adrenalin surged through me. I was ecstatic. I took off the guitar around my neck, threw it up in air and stage dived into the ecstasy – the energy.

The fall awoke me and I lay on the floor at the foot of the bed for a few moments waiting for the adrenalin to die out and an essence of grief to settle in. I compared the reflection of my dreamy face with the star studded one I had just seen; and lugged myself into the balcony. It was dark – just dark. I faked a countenance of maturity and smiled at the nostalgia. Over-riding it a bit, I picked up a rock and threw it up at the stars – it came down faster than I thought and knocked me out cold. The light returned…

Pre-boards coming!!

Namaste. That's about all your going to see for a while. I've got my Pre's threatening the time i spend on this laptop. So there won't be anymore posts till they get over. See you then. (btw now that this message is over I'm wondering why I'm even writing this which anyway is probably for my eyes only, well see it as talking to myself, again!) I'd like it if you guys (read: Shobhna), as a comment, write in what you'd want to see in the next post. Think of it as topic suggestion. I'm trying hard not to let 'Scrapscape' die because of no 'pieces' left 'on my mind'. Btw while (if) your at it, please allow me to steal some well-thought of names for this blog. Happy Holidays, Abhinav ps. - my mail: abhinavnayar_jsr@yahoo.com pps- I'm being very very very optimistic, I know.