Class Rooms

May 16, 2009 by nishantchandgotia

I recently read the book “To Sir, With Love” and watched the movie “The Class”. Both of them revolve around the classroom, students and teachers but are different to a very large degree.
The Class:
The Class
“Entre les murs” i.e. “The Class” is a recent direction by Laurent Cantet which bagged the Golden Palm Award at the Cannes Film Festival. The movie is based on a class in a French High School. The class is filled with a motley crowd of students and the story focuses on the experience of Francois a French teacher there. The class is mostly extremely difficult to handle and trouble makers are a plenty. Although with good intentions, the exasperation experienced by the teachers is quite evident as one of his colleagues almost breaks down in the middle of the movie. Slowly, Francois is seen reaching his limit. As a result he ends up abusing a couple of his students. This leads to an heated exchange with Suleyman,an extremely uncooperative African French student who rushes out of the class accidentally injuring one of his class mates. This is seen as an act of violence and is thus expelled. The film instead of treating events or issues, tries to draw day to day life at a classroom. It paints characters which make a class the absence of which leaves dull and dead benches as shown in the end of the movie . The film culminates into the the last day of school when a girl comes to Francois and admits having learnt nothing in the year. Taken aback Francois has little idea how to handle the situation. He tries to raise her confidence by telling her that she has learned a lot but she is too worried to be really listening to him. thus the film ends on the note that it ain’t just the student’s skills which are tested in an academic year.
Brilliant camera work and amazing direction. The strength of the movie is its naturalness and the fact that you actually feel as if you are sitting there.

To Sir, With Love:

To Sir,With Love

An E.R Braithwaite book, it brings upissues regarding education at schools and racism.
Baithwaire is part of the Royal Air Force when the end of war leaves him unemployed. Although being highly qualified the colour of hiis skin turns out to be a big hurdle in his path and he ends up as a teacher at an extremely unruly school in London. His welcome in the school ain’t the most pleasing one, as he finds himself filling in the place of a teacher who fled due to the extremely unruly behavior of the class. Slowly and surely, with the help of his colleagues and his own innovative methods he learns how to handle the class. One by one, all the students start falling in line as everything from their body language to their aptitude is given a boost. The change is particularly attributed to the fact that he treats the students as young adults rather than as irresponsible teenagers. The author in this autobiographical work focuses a lot on the emotions of the man when experiencing extreme scratches of racial discrimination. Whether being served impolitely in a restaurant, being commented on in the train while taking his students for a trip or being refused board and jobs. 18 months of unemployment sort of infused this into his system. His frustration comes to light when none of the students(initially) agree to take the wreath to the house of a dead (colored) class mate since it would be seen as ‘fraternizing’ with the colored. At this point the author shouts inwardly
“It is like a disease” and mourns that he was not able to free them of the plague. However the students in general are seen to grow up into their shoes. The story ends on an extremely positive note as the students turn up well placed, oozing with respect for their teacher.

“The Class” and ” To Sir, With Love” deal with classroom in extremely polar ways. While one is extremely pragmatic the other effects us emotionally to a great deal. As “The Class” ends with the emptiness of the benches and the failure of a teacher ” To Sir, With Love” leaves us with positive vibes around us.

End Chapter 1

May 8, 2009 by nishantchandgotia

And so ends my tryst with Indian Statistical Institute. I am finally done with my Bachelors and looking forward to life ahead and yes posting more often.

The Last Flight

May 15, 2008 by nishantchandgotia

A pearl, suddenly, left its abode. Finally free, it covered many a miles to meet the dry barren land. A whiff of the soil blew up, protesting against this sudden intrusion. But the pearl kept sinking in, till it was a pearl no more. Entranced by this flight, many a more freed themselves from their bounds, to experience minutes of freedom. Within seconds, the earth was covered by these tiny droplets of pure joy and a soft mist rose up in the air. The parched earth, pleasantly surprised, expressed its joy in all possible forms. The branches rustled together, the leaves and the flowers took up a vibrant shade, the earth send out the scent of the first rain, the scent of fresh soil. Music in the air. The old man opened his eyes. So many years, his eyes had not seen the rain, ears not heard its sweet melody, and skin not felt its gentility. The joy that it spread. Beautiful. The old eyes were filled with tears and closed by themselves. He wanted to fly, free himself from the shackles which bound him. Slowly, he gathered strength. He hurtled himself towards the window. Finally, the sweet touch of the cool rain, the caress of the passing wind. What could have been more soothing? This flight was bound to end. The old man crashed to earth. A thousand gathered on the spot. Many wailed, many cried but the old man smiled, the earth still smiled…

Among Clouds

April 8, 2008 by nishantchandgotia

I spent this weekend(week with holi) in the Coorg District in Karnataka. I thought that some of you might be interested in hearing my experiences there and decided to write this down . Me along with some of my friends started this Friday night from Majestic Bus Stand(Bangalore) after a heavy dinner at “The Rice Bowl”(emphasis on the word heavy).We reached Virajpet Bus Stand at 5.30 in the morning. The place looked like a broken down ghost house (not the best omen to start off with.) It was continuously raining and the climate was chilly. Most of us expected pleasant climate but freak rains turned the table around. Locals told me that we were very unlucky to face this. Most of us had no warm clothes. Within a few minutes a jeep was there to take us to the Honey Valley estate. Up the mountainous tract, devastating rains and truly fabulous scenery…  Waterfalls or rather small rapids could be seen almost every passing moment. And how can one forget about the forestation around. Honey Valley is one of the few places, on which no pesticide has ever been used. The huge expanse of land holds in itself exquisite natural beauty unique to the place. It is virtually inaccessible and has absolutely no pollution. Had reaching the place been comfortable, loads of unruly crowd would have ruined the place by now. Believe me, it is worth taking all the pain necessary.

After quite a steep climb by the jeep, we reached the hotel. It was raining quite hard . Still, loaded with alacrity,we grabbed our boots and decided to explore the near by areas. After a 1 km. uphill walk from the hotel through dense woods took us to a place called “The Dry Pond”.The path reminded me of a poem by Rudyard Kipling “The Way Through The Woods”. The most beautiful flowers and plants, coffee plantation at a distance, tall hills still further away,looking old and wise with mist all around them. Mesmerizing scenery. 8 distinct paths could be seen spiraling away from :”The Dry Pond” tagged A-H. We decided to follow E which led to the bottom of a waterfall. The climb got tougher as we went up. A look to the left. My first reaction was graceful appreciation of God’s work and nature’s glory. My second reaction(which followed almost immediately) was my heart skipping a beat. The track was very narrow and the slope was very steep towards the left. The only reconciliation was that there were plenty of plants towards the left. So even if I slipped I would not die(but break quite a many bones for sure). The path was very slippery(because of the rain) so slipping was not very improbable also . After following the treacherous path for about one and a half hours(because of the numerous photo clicking sessions in between) we reached the bottom of the waterfalls. Amazing…white foamy water washing the stones. I had never been so close to a water fall. Suddenly one of my friends complained of some itching in the foot. It had earlier been dismissed as kiddish whining ,but now it seemed as if everybody except me had the complaint . One of my friends opened his shoes and Arggggghhh!!! leeches all over. Horrible slimy blood sucking worms. They were all around the place, standing and waiting for their prey. I tried to convince the people that leeches were not very dangerous but apparently nobody was in the mood to stay. As if zombified(I know thats not a word), they walked along the narrow path back to “The Dry Pond” at an unbelievably dangerous pace. Luckily everyone survived, only never to come back again. We were 8 people and all except me all had been bitten by leeches (mind the plural)at all sorts of places. I was at the receiving end of many a curses for being so lucky. I later found out that, that particular tract was known as “The Palace of Leeches“!!!

Battered and broken 4 of our group decided never to go on such a ramble again. The next day morning 4 of us who were left, decided to go on another adventure. We reached “The Dry Pond” at 8 in the morning and started walking towards a place called “The Flat Ridge”. It was still raining. While passing the forested area, we noticed leeches standing vertically on fallen down leaves waiting for its prey(scarrryy). We crossed the forested area to reach a little steeper path. This track was a tougher climb than the earlier one and we were often on all fours. One side was vertically down and the other was somewhat steep. Because of the rain, the stones were very slippery and clay had become muddy. However the view seemed to get better exponentially. Soon we were at the ridge. Cool wind,misty weather, the surroundings gave a mysterious aura. A path could be seen going higher.However, nothing was mentioned about this in the guide book about it. We decided to go ahead.

Soon both sides beside us were vertically down and the path was strewn with thorny plants resulting in numerous scratches and bruises all over. The path had become very steep. Often mist was all that we could see. Finally we reached a flat top. Beautiful…  Drops of water seemed to cling to the end of my eye lashes and my skin seemed sticky because of the water in the air. The mist seemed to be in a childish mood playing a truant every now and then.  It would move to give us a glimpse of the grand hills and the scenery around, covering it as soon as we were ready with our cameras. My friends called it heaven on earth. I did not call it so, because I had never imagined a place as beautiful as this on earth. It seemed as if I had broken the shackles of mankind and reached the abode of the gods…Suddenly one of my friends received a SMS saying that Kerela welcomes us …(the usual we receive when we cross a state border) We did a little exploration around. There we found a big white skull(nobody could figure out what animal it was and how it had reached this place). Also we noticed that numerous plants there did not have green leaves. After spending some half an hour at this place we went down back to “The Dry Pond”. There we opened our shoes and found a host of leeches inside. We were ready this time. A pinch of salt and within seconds ,the tiny monsters were dead. This time around too, I was the only one not bitten. Nice nice…

After returning back to the hotel, we checked out within an hour bidding our hosts a warm goodbye and thanking them for their great hospitality and food. Loaded with coffee and honey,we made our way to The Abby Falls. Apparently the rain stopped as soon as we left the Honey Valley. It is difficult to say whether these freak rains were a blessing or a curse. It did make our rambles much more adventurous and our experience unique. But we missed bird watching and other things because of it…

Reaching the falls was a nice experience, with a lot twists and turns. It attracted quite a large crowd. A bridge covered the brook below. However the water was not fenced appropriately, so a lot of people reached the bottom without any problem. I found out later that every year people die doing so. The authorities should be more vigilant. The falls were beautiful with white foamy water covering black shining stones. The contrast was stunning.

After spending an hour there we left for the Buddhist Monastery, the largest Tibetan settlement in India. On the way we saw an overturned bus. The Buddhist monastery is unique to the region and this was my first visit to such a place. The whole construction was very beautiful and all inhabitants seemed to have the look of wisdom, kindness and peace. The walls of the temples had quaint drawings depicting their gods and representing their religion. The decorative designs had a nice intermingling of shade and light which gave quite a many illusions. The most eye catching was the huge 60 foot golden statues of their deities. That ended my Journey in Koorg.

It was sad saying goodbye to such a beautiful place. But then I had to head back to my drab of a life in Bangalore. There is a lot to explore provided you have the time…

P.s. The photographs are due to my friends(I don’t have a camera)

Also I am horrible at rattling of events and describing it. I don’t think I have done justice to the place… Its much better than the impression you might be getting. Also sorry for being so late in posting this(I was down with bronchitis)

!3

March 16, 2008 by nishantchandgotia

A moonless dark night. A lone dark man walks into a cold,desolate street. His tall figure as if shining in darkness, establishing his presence . His emotionless eyes, his mechanical steps asserted that he was being controlled .He turns to a broken down apartment which seemed deserted from the exterior. A man can be seen bundled up in the corner . A flush of blood brings life to this man’s face. For the first time he shows signs of being a human. He drags the bundled fellow to the middle of the cabin and wakes him up.< A loud screech> The man sits rooted to the spot. He looks at the dark man with pure terror in his eyes .The dark man takes out a knife, red with dried blood on it. Within a second, the knife passes through the limp man’s heart. A smile of satisfaction… A smile of accomplishment.

Done with himself, he retraces his footsteps. After a long walk through some long unknown streets he reaches a black sedan and climbs on softly. Soon he is back home…greeted by kids…kissed by his wife..

An entry in a Certain Diary:

June 21st
Finally the night again. One more and I shall be immortal. I look at  my past and my present and laugh. How I shivered during the first … How I almost gave myself away during the second..And how consummately I finished up this one.I remember those weird feelings I used to have. The idiocy has left me now. I feel as if the world has taught me how to stand. I already feel so powerful. I wonder what it will be like when I finish the next one, I shall be able to free myself from the bonds of nature.  Free myself from the crowd which crawls along the surface of the earth like ants… As if begging “Please, let me live. Please let me surivive…” Immortality. That is my goal. That is what I require. That is what I shall achieve.

These twelve months have been a revelation for me. There is nothing in the world like terror. Seeing someone so helpless, so scared… Just one more…Just one more month…And then the dagger shall pierce my heart,the dagger with blood of 13 helpless,pained souls whom I helped attain freedom,freedom from the pain which the world has bestowed on them.The blessing of 13 free souls shall free me of all bondages. Just one more.

A Righteous Indian

March 8, 2008 by nishantchandgotia

I expect nobody to go ahead and read this. But I shall post it owing to the great reverence this particular Hindu article has brought out of me for Justice Hans Raj Khanna. These are the people who allow us to walk on the streets without any fear, who make us feel that there is always someone who cares of our well being, our liberty, our basic human rights… I must also thank the author of this article(posted in The Hindu,7th March,2007) Hopefully most of you must have already come across this. This post is for those who haven’t.

P.S.One suggestion try to read more about it…

A profile in judicial courage

Anil Divan

H.R. Khanna’s courage and independence must continue to inspire and remind generations of lawyers and judges of the sacrifice he made in upholding human rights, the rule of law and the independence of the judiciary.

justice.jpg

H.R. Khanna’s lone dissent in the habeas corpus case does the Indian judiciary and legal profession proud.

On February 25, 2008, Justice Hans Raj Khanna passed away at the age of 95. He stood for all that is respected and admired in a great judge — patience, courtesy, wisdom, but above all courage. A courage unsurpassed by any other judge of the Supreme Court since Independence.

Khanna was born in 1912, joined the Bar in 1934, was appointed a District and Sessions Judge in 1952 and was elevated to the Punjab High Court in 1962 and finally to the Supreme Court in 1971.

He has become immortal in the collective memory of the legal profession because of his judgment in 1973 in the fundamental rights case (Kesavananda Bharati). This judgment tilted the balance seven to six against the government, and curtailed the unrestricted power of Parliament to amend the Constitution on the doctrine of an un-amendable basic structure. Outspoken critics of the judgment like H.M. Seervai, a great constitutional lawyer, changed their view after seeing the excesses of the Emergency.

Habeas corpus case But Justice Khanna’s finest hour came on April 28, 1976 when he delivered his lone dissent in the habeas corpus case.

Indira Gandhi lost her election case on June 12, 1975 and on her appeal in the Supreme Court she was only granted a conditional stay. As a result, she could neither vote nor speak in the Lok Sabha. She became a dysfunctional Prime Minister. Immediately thereafter, on June 25, 1975, she proclaimed a state of internal Emergency. In a midnight swoop, most of the prominent Opposition leaders, including Jayaprakash Narayan, Morarji Desai, Atal Bihari Vajpayee and L.K Advani, were detained without charges and trial. The fundamental right to life and liberty (Article 21) and equality (Article 14) were suspended. The Press was gagged and censored and orders were passed not to report unfavourable court judgments. Many persons were detained and habeas corpus petitions were presented for their release on the ground that such orders were ultra vires and beyond the statute, or were mala fide.

A Bench of five judges of the Supreme Court (Chief Justice A.N. Ray; Justices Khanna, M.H. Beg, Y.V. Chandrachud and P.N. Bhagwati) heard what has come to be known as the habeas corpus case (A.D.M. Jabalpur v. Shiv Kant Shukla). The only question before the court was whether a petition for habeas corpus and other similar petitions under Article 226 were maintainable (notwithstanding the suspension of the fundamental rights) on the ground that the orders were beyond the statute or were issued with mala fide or were not in accordance with law.

Shanti Bhushan led the argument. Ram Jethmalani, Soli Sorabjee and I came from Bombay to argue for various detenus. We thought our case was unanswerable, with nine High Courts in our favour. We were hopelessly wrong.

On April 28, 1976, four judges decided in favour of the government, holding that the petitions were not maintainable. Justice Khanna was the lone dissenter. The government’s argument was accepted by the majority. The Supreme Court by a majority closed its door to the citizen and there was no remedy against illegal detentions, unauthorised demolitions, official tyranny, torture, murder, and mayhem. The Supreme Court sanctioned “the rule of lawlessness.”

H.M. Seervai later commented: “The four judgments were delivered in the darkest hour of India’s history after independence, and they made the darkness complete… ordinary men and women would understand Satan saying ‘Evil be thou my good,’ but they were bewildered and perplexed to be told by four learned judges of the Supreme Court, that in substance, the founding fathers had written into the Emergency provisions of our Constitution ‘Lawlessness be thou our law.’”

Justice Khanna in his autobiography writes about the habeas corpus case graphically. He says: “In view of his (Attorney-General’s) submissions would there be any remedy if a police officer because of personal enmity killed another man?” The answer of Mr. De (Attorney-General) was unequivocal: “Consistently with my argument,” he said, “there would be no judicial remedy in such a case as long as the Emergency lasts”.”

Heartening reaction Khanna’s dissent rejecting the Attorney-General’s argument held the petitions maintainable. It was the only light in an atmosphere of total gloom.

But the reaction in other democratic countries was heartening. The New York Times on April 30, 1976, came out with an editorial which has become a classic and is cherished by many of us who lived through those dark days.

It said: “If India ever finds its way back to the freedom and democracy that were proud hallmarks of its first eighteen years as an independent nation, someone will surely erect a monument to Justice H.R. Khanna of the Supreme Court. It was Justice Khanna who spoke out fearlessly and eloquently for freedom this week in dissenting from the Court’s decision upholding the right of Prime Minister Indira Gandhi’s Government to imprison political opponents at will and without court hearings… The submission of an independent judiciary to absolutist government is virtually the last step in the destruction of a democratic society; and the Indian Supreme Court’s decision appears close to utter surrender.”

Justice Khanna did not surrender. But it cost him his appointment as Chief Justice of India. He was superseded in January 1977 and Justice Beg who was next in seniority, appointed Chief Justice of India. Khanna promptly resigned. In his autobiography he writes of what he had told his sister, “I have prepared my judgment, which is going to cost me the Chief Justice-ship of India” — but he did not flinch or waver and remained true to his oath.

Justice Jackson of the U.S. Supreme Court said: “Judges are more often bribed by their ambition and loyalty than by money.” Unlike his four colleagues, Justice Khanna did not succumb to ambition or loyalty. His judgment was reminiscent of Lord Atkin’s celebrated dissent in Liversidge v. Anderson during the dark days of the Second World War when he invalidated an order of detention without trial and observed: “I view with apprehension the attitude of judges who on a mere question of construction when face to face with claims involving the liberty of the subject show themselves more executive-minded than the executive… In this country, amid the clash of arms the laws are not silent.”

Justice Khanna in his dissent stated: “What is at stake is the rule of law… the question is whether the law speaking through the authority of the Court shall be absolutely silenced and rendered mute…”

His dissent does the Indian judiciary and the legal profession proud. The doctrine of basic structure which is now firmly rooted in our constitutional jurisprudence is his great gift to posterity. To adapt Winston Churchill’s felicitous phrase, never did so many owe so much to a single judge.

He was enticed into becoming Law Minister in the Charan Singh government supported by Indira Gandhi in July 1979 but he suffered pangs of conscience and resigned in three days. Again, a principled sacrifice and the courage to recognise his error publicly.

His portrait adorns Court No. 2 in the Supreme Court. His courage and independence must continue to inspire and remind generations of lawyers and judges of the sacrifice he made in upholding human rights, the rule of law and the independence of the judiciary.

It is essential for each generation to share with successive generations the experiences and struggles of the past for preserving a constitutional democracy and the rule of law. It is an ever-greening process and Justice Khanna’s role must encourage each one of us — judge, lawyer and citizen — to play our little part in this never-ending battle. This is my small tribute to a great son of India.

(The writer is a Senior Advocate. e-mail: abdsad@airtelmail.in)

The Panacea

February 17, 2008 by nishantchandgotia
The Panacea
And I thought it was over. But the night slowly knocked back into my day. I
stood tall. I stood brave. But it was not enough…
The worst portion in one’s life is not where the shadows hover
  over him…rather it is the one where he realizes that he doesn’t have
enough light to illuminate them. There is nothing more
insulting to one’s ego than the fact that he cannot fight off his own
troubles. Such a realization brings incorrigible damage to any being. Every moment thereafter, he lives in the fear of losing himself and curses his own existence.

Even the dying flames return when given a little encouragement. Hope can mend all ,why not this too…With this in my mind I continue to survive, I continue to move forward. Maybe, the day shall take over. But it never happens. The night persists and I am left alone in my solitude. The stars don’t seem to be very bright today… I reach out for the panacea. They say it is wrong. But how can something so simple, so soothing be wrong. I drink in slowly . Joy runs through my veins and I shiver for minutes. The feeling is same as that of love. The only difference being it does not stab you on your back. It stays with you and helps you whenever you need it. It does not want anything in return. So simple, so beautiful. The stars seem to be shining again. It feels as if I can sleep . I slowly sink into my chair.The lights dim out.It feels as if I am floating in space. Nothing is so relaxing. I take in some more. My mouth starts to dry. I reach out for the water. But it seems to be so far away. I cannot reach it. I fall down. I cannot get up.

 Why? Why me of all people?They say a man should not cry. But the panacea has freed me of any such bound. I open my heart out. Slowly , as tears dry out I lie on the rug trying to gather strength. The drug is taking over slowly. I have lost control over my parts. Soon, I am totally immobile. Gradually,the torturous  pain begins to subside. My limp leg doesn’t hurt anymore. I can see the fields again,the fields where I grew up,where I played and fought,where I was happy and sad; my ambitions, some of which turned true and some of which remained untouched . It all seems so far now. So far… Maybe if life gave me another chance I would do better.Now that I know what it is meant for.

 Why should I live? No friend. No enemy. No objective . No ambitions. Nobody to love, to caress or to confide in.Why would anybody care about a lame man?

It is hard to fight death, when in its abode. It is much more harder to live once your insides die…

And She Cried

January 15, 2008 by nishantchandgotia

AND SHE CRIED,
Let’s go back a little,
In the dead of the night, asleep yet not asleep, awake yet not awake; lost in those unknown lands,dazed by those unfelt emotions…Could any of the words have expressed her joy or brought out her inner feelings?None at all. It had finally entered her life. Love.She was in a sweet delusion,stubborn not to wake up, stubborn not to return to her own self.

Then why do I see her cry ? Why do I find her lost in another world away from the sweet fragrances, away from those rosy days and the beautiful nights? The tears sog the pillow, wishing a shoulder to fall on, and the unkempt hair strands tangle into themselves rather than flowing through his face. Nobody to comfort, nobody to share, nobody to love. Staring into the gloomy sky, she wishes for a touch;a touch which would say that it is there to stay,hands, to catch her when she falls, to hold her close forever.She wishes for that sweet caress, those brown eyes which spoke of true love, and the warmth of those moments which she thought would keep her burning forever. Suddenly,her lips break into a smile…Perhaps his name rested there.These moments shall never fade. His place in her heart is forever, she will never be able to cut it away;she will not be able to destroy it.Much like that thorn which neither belongs and neither leaves . I cannot imagine the intensity of her emotions,I cannot grasp her feelings.Still, I wish to catch those tears. Wouldn’t I do just anything to stop her cry??…. For the first time in my life, I feel helpless and hapless. To me, these were just moments where the tide of my emotions took over me, but to someone, whose life had been torn away like this, I cannot imagine the pain. Pain…! Is it just pain?

Probably, she does not see it as I do. Maybe, she is proud of it. Maybe, she is waiting for herself to heal, so that, the pain leaves and only the golden woven moments remain, as a scar, deep in her heart empowering her to face the world. The scar shall not reflect in her eyes as does the pain,and maybe, she will love again. As they say,whatever may happen, life flows on and she will too. She will not be broken.She will get up , stronger and wiser. That’s the best we can hope, isn’t it.

A sudden change of emotion. She buries her face in her hands and looks up again.”Why,Why me?”. She is having difficulty keeping up. The turmoil of emotions. Joy filled past, Pain filled present and the Unknown tomorrow.All at her doorstep at the same time. Slowly, she wipes her own tears and gets up.A look in to the mirror. She doesn’t seem to be the same person she knew herself to be.She turns around. Only to find nothing there. The disappointment is clearly written on her face. Tears rundown again.”There is no reason for me to be here, when he has already left.”She pulls out the blade kept in her drawer and cuts her wrist. Warm red blood sputters out and a sharp pain catches her face. She collapses and becomes paler. Slowly,all her attempts to move, start to fail. She no longer struggles. I can see her smile again. The most beautiful, peaceful smile. The eyes close and here, it ends…