School Stories on #WodehouseSeries

After taking a look at the series of Jeeves and Mr. Mulliner novels in the past week, we go to Wodehouse's school stories, now. For a long time, I went about reading book after book of Wodehouse's Jeeves, Blandings Castle, and Mr. Mulliner, but didn't even know the existence of his series of school stories until the grand old man I mentioned in the introductory post gave me a copy of A Prefect's Uncle. 

"Sit down, Lorimer," he said.

There are many ways of inviting a person to seat himself. The genial ‘take a pew’ of one’s equal inspires confidence. The raucous ‘sit down in front’ of the frenzied pit, when you stand up to get a better view of the stage, is not so pleasant. But worst of all is the icy ‘sit down’ of the annoyed headmaster. In his mouth the words take to themselves new and sinister meanings. They seem to accuse you of nameless crimes, and to warn you that anything you may say will be used against you as evidence. -  A Prefect's Uncle

Only introduction was needed, and within no time I was too tempted to have not completed A Prefect's Uncle, The Head of Kay's, The Golden Bat, The Pothunters, and The White Feather. These five books were set in four different schools- Beckford, Eckleton, Wrykin, and St. Austin's. And, these were the early books that Wodehouse wrote for school children before he moved on to Jeeves and other series of novels, and they were published later on from 1901-1905.

The school stories give you the perfect picture of an all-boys, English boarding school. If you have read other English novels for children, you might be able to draw a very similar parallel with books like Tom Brown's Schooldays, which has a similar setting around school boys. Also, cricket is a staple in these books. Some of the best bits in the novels involve scenes of the loyalty that the boys show to their House team, triggering fond memories of our own schooldays.

My favourite of the lot is A Prefect's Uncle, partially because I got introduced to it first! The story involves Gethryn, a Head-prefect in Leicester's House of Beckford, and the tale takes you through the lives of Gethryn and his fellow boys as they wade through school life, ragging, house-fights, misunderstandings- all culminating in a cricket matches that seem more like two houses in war!

All these school stories are short novels that hover over or under a 150-page mark. These are an absolute pleasure to read, and would not take more than a couple of hours! Even if the setting is of an English boarding school for boys, I can guarantee that these books will kindle a warm fireplace of our memories that we can sit back, relax, and relish- with an involuntary laughter and a perpetual smile pinned to the face!

The Process of Thinking

A lot of who I am today is because of my school, as I have previously told in several of my posts. There was a brilliant system in place that pushed us to think, be creative, and produce genuine work however shoddy or error-ridden it might be initially. We were allowed to try our hand, and add a dash of our own colours to everything we did or learnt. All forms of art, expression, academic interests were equally supported, and that made us all so confident to 'be ourselves'.

Giving importance and acknowledging the thought that a child has put behind the work he or she submits can change the whole way we are moulded to think. I am not restricting myself to creative arts, music, painting, dancing, and the likes. Not at all. I have seen teachers who have appreciated kids for approaching a math problem from a innovative or different angle even though the final answer on the paper might not have been the right one! Reprimanding for a wrong answer when the method was actually to be appreciated can make the child stop trying to think innovatively, and instead might push the child to just stick to the traditional methods to avoid the possibility of mistakes. 

This taught us that to think about the process, and be innovative in the process and how we approach a subject is more important than thinking just about the results. In fact, innovative results are a mere consequence of an innovative thought process. So, when they focused on the right thing, we learnt the right lessons.

I agree that at the end of the day we all want results. Nobody cares how you did something. What we want is results that work. But, we should reserve such an attitude to probably professional activities where results are of the highest importance to everybody involved, and there are goals to be met. However, with children and young creative artists- it is important to teach them the right lessons, nurture and help them grow as thinking individuals, and also for us to look at their work with the right lens.

So, as teachers, as parents, as sisters and brothers, as fellow human beings who see the work of each other and comment on it- we should first look into what work, what process, what thoughts go into something, and give it as much weight, if not more, as you give to the end result!

As the picture says: think, innovate, be yourself. I thank my school and my parents for teaching me that!

Clothesline by Charlotte Druitt Cole

Washing clothes is a necessary part of all our lives, and so is hanging them to dry on the clothesline. They are a thing of daily observation to many of us. Here is a poem by Charlotte Druitt Cole- a sweet one that brings us a well-known picture of the clothesline from a cheery angle. 

We had this poem in school as a part of English classes, and we had to recite it without looking for our internals. I still remember every word of it, and tried to write it from memory (verified it later, though). Poems like these- simple, in observation and in rhyme- stay with us forever.

Hand in hand they dance in a row,
Hither and thither, and to and fro,
Flip! Flap! Flop! and away they go—
Flutt’ring creatures as white as snow,
Like restive horses they caper and prance;
Like fairy-tale witches they wildly dance;
Rounded in front, but hollow behind,
They shiver and skip in the merry March wind.
One I saw dancing excitedly,
Struggling so wildly till she was free,
Then, leaving pegs and clothes-line behind her,
She flew like a bird, and no one can find her.
I saw her gleam, like a sail, in the sun,
Flipping and flapping and flopping for fun.
Nobody knows where she now can be,
Hid in a ditch, or drowned in the sea.
She was my handkerchief not long ago,
But she’ll never come back to my pocket, I know.

I also remember that this was the first time we were introduced to alliterations as a figure of speech, for the phrase 'flipping and flapping and flopping for fun'. Alliterations were an instant hit with students, and we constantly tried to make alliterations in posters and other projects to make them sound more catchy. I think that is why grammar was always introduced to us through poetry or a story. Long after it is gone, we still remember what we learnt and why. 

Hope you liked the poem! Do you distinctly remember anything you learnt in school that you can still reproduce? Share your story in the comments!

Letter Writing In School

Do you all remember middle school and high school English? We were made to write a bunch of different letters, notices, messages, emails, and make posters, take notes, all under the broad head of ‘writing skills’? I don’t know about the rest of you, but letter writing was my favourite. 

Every year, every teacher told me that my letter was different, smart, innovative, and nice. However, what they didn’t know was the crux of what they found interesting in the letter was literally the same every year! Totally unlike a creative writer, Sandhya exercised her creativity in letter writing just once or twice in her whole school life. One idea was just improvised, recycled, and circulated in exam papers across my progressive years in high school. And since each time the correction was done by a different teacher, they always found the idea new and interesting. 

My best friend from school laughed at it every single time, and so did I. Once I was praised so much in front of the class, and the teacher asked me to read it aloud to the entire class because she found it very interesting. When I finished reading and came back to my seat, my friend nudged me and whispered in my ear: “Pray the next teacher won’t ask you to read next year.”

Though I flexed my creativity in other forms of writing skills such as story writing and posters, I stuck to this predetermined format that I had for letter writing. It was the exact same peripheral content every letter, with just the core issue changing according to the question asked. I followed the exact same strategy for my letter writing exercises in Tamizh also. As Calvin would put it, I did manipulate the system to nail the letter writing part of the question paper. 

Till very recently, I have tried to fix what I wanted to write in a format that has already worked before, just customizing it according to the person I am sending it to. Somehow, this usually works for letters and emails. But, off late, I have learnt to write an email decently without referring to a format. I guess it comes with practice. School has some of my most treasured memories, both big and small ones, that will stay with me forever. 

If you have any fun memories of writing letters, do share them in the comments below!

"I beg you- please, play me fair!"

My close friend, from school, and I were not really people who tensed up before an exam. In fact, we had a chilled out policy- if you studied there's nothing to worry about, if you didn't there's definitely nothing to worry about! So, we always took the exam in a very relaxed manner, and mostly never discussed the paper after the exam, because why trouble yourself realizing your mistakes! And, we had a standard reply at home. 

How did the Maths test go? It went great.

How did the Science test go? It went great.

How did the Social test go? It went great. 

And, English?  Great, of course. 

My brother was worse. If my mom asked him how he wrote his paper, he'd reply 'using my pen/hand'. So, there was never a debate about anything until the scores came, and then it was a one-hour talk till the report card went back to the teacher (hehehe).

During our Class XII was the first ever time we felt a little that we must be pretty serious about studying, and that too for around three months from January of the Board year, because if we didn't get through a competitive exam then the score would matter. But, once again, when I entered the University, I went back to the 'chill-policy'. I make a point to plan and study (like I talked about in my post on 5 things that help me in college), but I never get tensed. 

On this note, here's a fun poem by my close friend, Priyanka, that she wrote during our high school!

Every day we inch closer,

Thinking 'bout you 

makes my heart beat faster,

Just your name makes me jittery all over,

O Lord! Make the evening go slower!

You- I badly wanna forget,

But only stronger and stronger

in my thoughts you get, 

I beg you- please, play me fair,

Annuals, you are giving me a scare!

And, for a lot of people, exams do give a scare. It's nature to some people to get worried, but it can be consciously toned down by practice and an aware decision to try to stay cool whatever happens. However, this in no way means that you can fool yourself to think the scores will be fine, because they can't be fine unless you worked enough to deserve them. But there is only so much you can do on the day of the exam or one day before, and that is to stay calm and cool. Wrap up your books, have your meal, drink water, chill and write to the best of what you know. If not the results, at least your mind and experience through your exam will be much better!

Also, check out this cute fan-poem we wrote as we resided in the world of Harry Potter around Class VII: If you go to Hogwarts... School and school friends bring way too many happy memories for me!

Slam Book (More Like Sham Book)

Slam books were a thing when I was around Class V/VI. They were important because it shows how much you knew about your friends, and also because generally it was a cool thing for a kid to have around that time. Eleven year old Sandhya also obviously kept up with the trend and owned one!

For those who aren't aware what a slam book is, here's the Wikipedia definition:

"A slam book is a notebook (commonly the spiral-bound type) which is passed among children and teenagers. The keeper of the book starts by posing a question (which may be on any subject) and the book is then passed round for each contributor to fill in their own answer to the question." 

What lies we all wrote! We all wrote anything and everything that made us look that much cooler. I still have my slam book where so many of my friends have written the weirdest, funniest things, and we have a good laugh over it now and then! Slam books can be a treasure to rediscover the most bizarre dreams we had as children. Not one entry said they wanted to be an engineer, or doctor, or lawyer slogging off in a nine-to-nine workplace. I had friends who had dreams of becoming artists, painters, singers, dancers, magicians, scientists, actors, writers, businessmen, fashion designers, models, astronauts, wizards, and what not! Just a look at it makes us smile! 

Till a couple of years back, I have often picked up the slam book to trace the phone number of a friend not on social media. All the numbers that I used to have in the slam book were landline numbers since we never had a mobile till class eleven or twelve, and most of the landlines still work!

I have often heard that slam books were also used as a medium to write mean, anonymous comments about other kids, and thinking back it is true that such a thing could have been possible. However, I am glad and thankful that no such bullying ever happened through a slam book to me or any of my friends when we were kids. 

To me, slam books are a happy memory that take us back into the slap-happy dreams of ourselves ten years ago!

The Bald Cavalier

Today, I rediscovered a wonderful, wonderful, poem that we were taught in Class V from my treasure trove of chaotic notes. A simple one, yet one that makes you smile! I had to share it! The author of the poem is unknown, but the poem was titled 'The Bald Cavalier' in our poetry textbook. Happy reading!

When periwigs came first in wear,

Their use was to supply

And cover the bald pate with hair,

To keep it warm and dry.

For this good end, our Cavalier

Determined one to buy,

Which did so natural appear

That it deceived the eye.

But riding out one windy day,

Behold! a sudden squall

Soon blew his feathered hat away,

And periwig and all.

He joined the laugh with noddle bare,

And sang in concert tone,

"How should I save another's hair,

Who could not keep my own?"

To take upon oneself a joke,

Good humour shows and wit,

Which may a second laugh provoke,

And leave the biter bit.

The moral is such an important one, and it is necessary in life 'to leave the biter bit'. I remember how much I loved it when I was taught this, and reading this today made me smile doubly wide- thanks to the lovely poem and the memories it brings!

I hope you enjoyed the poem!

Loving Shakespeare: A Convergence Of Many Factors

To read, or not to read, that is the question: but, if you do read Shakespeare, read it as you like it. 

For the longest time during my schooldays, I hated reading Shakespeare, more because of the fact that I never understood and consequentially it just bored me. The world of thy, thou, art, hath, shalt and other other archaic usages made my head rivet, thanks to lack of comprehension. At this stage in Class VIII, we got one of the best English teachers I had in school and a compulsory, non-detailed lesson of The Merchant of Venice. And, that turned around the world of Shakespeare for me. I fell in love with The Merchant of Venice, with Portia (also as Balthazar), Antonio, Bassanio, Gratiano, Shylock, and everyone!

I remember me slipping into a mull of thoughts when Shylock breaks out on his moving monologue.  

"I am a Jew. Hath
not a Jew eyes? hath not a Jew hands, organs,
dimensions, senses, affections, passions? fed with
the same food, hurt with the same weapons, subject
to the same diseases, healed by the same means,
warmed and cooled by the same winter and summer, as
a Christian is? If you prick us, do we not bleed?
if you tickle us, do we not laugh? if you poison
us, do we not die? and if you wrong us, shall we not
revenge? If we are like you in the rest, we will
resemble you in that. If a Jew wrong a Christian,
what is his humility? Revenge. If a Christian
wrong a Jew, what should his sufferance be by
Christian example? Why, revenge. The villany you
teach me, I will execute, and it shall go hard but I
will better the instruction." 

I remember my excitement at Gratiano's sarcastic comeback at Shylock, giving the Jew a taste of his own medicine on calling Balthazar(Portia) as the most learned judge when she went against Antonio, every single time my English teacher read out the 'O learned judge! Mark, Jew: a learned judge!' with the utmost zest and sneer of Gratiano. What a pleasure it was to read Shakespeare, suddenly!

The same year, we also had Julius Caesar to be performed as a play for internals, and I remember the enthusiasm with which I took up the lead to read the original play and work on the script, and I also remember playing Brutus! Our teacher really liked the play, and we felt so proud!

I went on to read Hamlet, Romeo and Juliet, The Tempest, Macbeth, The Comedy of Errors, A Midsummer Night's Dream and As You Like It after that- and I enjoyed every one of them! In Class IX, I took part in a stage play of The Taming of the Shrew for my school anniversary, and it was again a wonderful experience with the story and being a part of it!

That's when I realized I had to be taught to read Shakespeare, and that has to happen at the right age. Maybe a couple of years younger, I'd have refused to give it a try, and maybe a couple of years older- I'd have refused to change my view about Shakespeare. I'm sure that these non-detailed books planned for syllabus maybe with that optimum view- but I was extremely lucky to get a teacher who could make me fall in love with it!

This reminds me of the "right book, right time" theory by Sara Nelson in So Many Books, So Little Time.

If you are one of those who don't really think you can read and enjoy Shakespeare- try listening to someone who knows to read his work, and follow the text while it is being read out loud! It can really do wonders, like it did with me!

The Snow Gel Queen Demands Her Tribute

Happiness was at it's best when we were in school. In the final years of my primary schooling, towards the end term of my fifth standard life, there came a life-turning point. It was a significant one- one that would mould my preference and dominate for the rest of my school years, still does in college, and would probably do through the rest of my life. A bunch of ten-year-olds excitedly bid adieu to term two of Class V. When we returned after that short term break of ten days, we were to return as those who were going to take that first step into what seemed like a 'grown-ups' life. In the third term of Class V, we graduated from a pencil to a pen. Yes, a pen.

Our school had a rule that you could use only a gel pen or an ink pen. Ball pens were strictly prohibited until Class VIII. The class was in two factions- those who wrote with their fancy ink pens, and those with the gel pens. Actually, there was a third faction too- the ones that bought only and only Trimax.

Class V was an exciting phase with a full-on pen exploration undertaken by all the kids. My first ink pen was a classic green Camlin ink pen. Well, it pretty soon turned out that it didn't work that well for me. There were hoards of other famous ones like Jumbo and Camel that others used. The ultimate favourite ink pen that, as kids, we went frenzy about was Grippy, an ink pen with a new comic designed body. Out of the 35 in my class, 30 of us had it, whether we liked ink pens or not. It was just a cult necessity. There were those few who showed off their Parkers, and a few others stuck to their Luxor stick pens. But then later, I found that I didn't like ink pens at all much, and then I diverged out to explore gel pen options.

And, then came a phase of Pelicans, Pilot, and Trimax. They were the top of the game. With an amazing flow, and pen caps that somersault, Trimax was an instant favourite for all of us. But the common issue among all of them was that they were expensive. Thirty rupees for a pen, and eighteen rupees for a refill. We found that the ink was gone in a week, for all the notes that we took down. We set out to find cheaper alternatives. 

That was the period of the discovery of Snow Gel and Reynolds Racer Gel in our lives. Again, all the Grippys, Trimax, Pelicans were duly replaced by the five-rupee Snow Gel that lasted for over two weeks. True, the caps didn't somersault. But hey, they came in so many colours!

I was always a gel pen girl, but that's only till the end of Class VI. The most rebellious thing we ever did in school was to use a ball pen before Class VIII. Woah, wow, what cool kids, and what a wondrous life! Right? It was fun to sneak in one paper written in all ball, amongst those other papers written in ink and gel! Later, when my brother went through the same phase in school, I was strictly warned by my parents not to teach him such wrong lessons. 

To date, I am a ball-pen girl. And I positively love those three/four/five rupee pens. In my opinion, drawn from my extensive experience from experimentation, they work the best! Their flow is just brilliant, they are absolutely cost-effective, and they last for a decently long period. Also, bonus points, they don't break if you drop, they don't ever leak, and you don't feel that guilty if you lose them (though you should, losing is bad), or someone whom you lent it to didn't return it. 

When I see someone taking notes with a pencil during lectures at the University, I am always reminded of this. Today, I was looking for a pencil to mark something on my notebook, and again was reminded of this. 

As the Snow Gel Queen demands her tribute, I present to you this post- the adventures of happy 10-year olds who decided the faction of pens they belonged to!

Give Yourself Goosebumps

Series: Goosebumps

Author: R. L. Stine

R. L. Stine was a great children's author. He knew exactly what his target readers wanted, and we got it. 

This is not a book review. This is just a reminiscent piece about a book that dominated a lot of my childhood reading in school. I was never a fan of Goosebumps for a long time. What was supposed to be a children's horror story in the series, was at the most just disgusting, not at all one bit scary. But, the boys in my class loved it. There was set in my class that looked down upon the people who read Famous Five instead of Goosebumps (Blyton is better any day, duh, come on, whom were they kidding)! But, Goosebumps was one of the first books that I came across where you could maneuver the story. Yes, nothing but the famous Give Yourself Goosebumps series. 

I came across an article on Brainpickings that reminded me of this, and hence the post. Have to admit, I enjoyed the Give Yourself Goosebumps series like no other. We would try and take the stories as dangerously as possible, and try not to get killed in the end. They were called game books. Sitting there, and making that choice at the bottom of the page as to which page to proceed next, I swear we felt like we were making a top secretive, important billion-dollar decision that the world depended on. 

Goosebumps was a weird series. But the Give Yourself Goosebumps series was plain fun. I rarely came across other books that incorporated such a style. It was new, fun and different. 

Also, thinking back now, that must have been one nice challenge to write a book like. Where any page that your reader chose across the book, they had a logical flow and conclusion. If I attempted something of the sort, it would be ambitious. R. L. Stine was a great children's author. He knew exactly what his target readers wanted, and we got it. 

Rushing through those corridors leading to the library to grab the most wanted Give Yourself Goosebumps series book is still a fond memory!

Random Acts Of Kindness

I remember, we had a very ironic CBSE activity when I was in school: a compulsory 'random' act of kindness. And, we had to come to the class, and narrate what random act of kindness we performed. How did it turn out? A big, fat joke. While the idea of being kind is a noble and important one to teach to young boys and girls, the fact that they made us do a compulsory kind act for grades defeated the whole purpose. Honestly, none of us said the truth. We just invented something on the spot, and when one kid said something nice, ten kids after that repeated the same thing with mild twists in the story. Very effective lesson, isn't it?

In fact, it is not that none of us were kind. It is just that when your act of kindness is truly random and inherent in your behaviour, you will never realize or acknowledge it as doing something "kind". A true, natural act of kindness is appreciated, praised and cherished by the receiver or the onlooker, never by yourself. And, if you really are going to note down and boast about a random act of kindness, then there are more chances than not that you had a hidden personal agenda behind the act, and it wasn't really out of inherent "kindness". 

Kindness is all around us. We do, not one, but hundreds of random kind activities for the people around us. We pick up a dropped pen. We say thank you. We allow somebody to stand before us in a line. We share our food. We listen to their rants. We share their highs and lows. And, they do the same to us. That's where the important part comes. While it is absolutely not necessary to consciously keep track of doing kind things, we should always take a moment out and consciously appreciate the kind act others do. Well now, taking time out to give them a nice word of appreciation in itself is a kind act!

Kindness is like respect. You be kind, and you will see others being kind to you. Kindness is a wide umbrella that incorporates and overlaps with other key human traits such as forgiveness and helpfulness. So, even though the CBSE could not execute a noble lesson, we all got the message clear and right. 

So, as the image says, in a world where you can be anything: be kind!

Author's Chair

We had a beautiful intra-class contest in school every year during our primary schooldays: Author's Chair. We all had to write one story and one poem, and our English teacher used to read all of them over a few days, and declare a winner, a runner, and a commendable piece under each of those two categories. And, the ones selected got to wear a crown, sit on the "Author's Chair" and read out their poem or story to the whole class. 

I wrote my first story in Class IV for Author's Chair. I still remember us waiting expectantly, with bated breaths, to see if our story or poem would make the cut. My class IV English teacher was one of the most favourite teachers in school, and I remember how much I wanted a word of praise from her. I had worked so hard on my piece. While my poem didn't make it, my story won. I still so fondly remember walking up proudly, wearing a crown, and reading out my first written story on the famed Author's Chair. It is such a beautiful, cherished moment, and I could have never thought of a better way I could have shared my first story. 

We used to have DEAR sessions- Drop Everything and Read! During these sessions, every single person in the school had to drop all their work, pick up a book, and just read for an hour. We used to love it. We made sure that we already had a book planned for the session, so that we could start reading without any delays.

I had a great friends circle with a lot of readers during my high school. We used to rush to the library, and make sure we got all the books we wanted before others could. We used to then rotate the books amongst ourselves, until all of us had read all of them. We used to pre-book the novels we wanted to read the next week. The librarian teachers were one of my closest and best teachers, I could even take the liberty to say they were one of my best friends, in school. They beamed every time I entered, and kept books stacked away for me, which they felt I'd enjoy. They used to discuss the books and authors with me, and get my review and opinion on the novels. They were one of my most favourite memories in school. 

I remember, once I complained to my high school librarian that the books were stocked in a haphazard way in the library, and how it was difficult to locate the ones I wanted. She asked me smilingly: 'Is it not your library? Why don't you do something about it?' I was mildly taken aback, but she was right. I got the sense of feeling that the library is mine, and it is my school. So, I went back home that same day, made a list of the authors in the library, and made small name cards for them. I went back to her the next day to proudly tell her my idea on how to organise the library, and from that day till today the library follows the system of name cards that I made and began.

School is one of the places that can do magic, and a world of wonder, to students.  I felt happy every single day I went to school. And now, my school is one of the things I'm proudest about in my life. And, mine undeniably did a world of wonder to me.

The school did us proud. Now it's high time we return the favor, isn't it?