A day spent at my son's school

“Life, with its rules, its obligations, and its freedoms, is like a sonnet,” Madeleine L’Engle says in A Wrinkle in Time. “You’re given the form, but you have to write the sonnet yourself.”

We admitted our son to a Waldorf school, and it is one of the best decisions of our lives.

Notty Feet is a Waldorf inspired school in our neighbourhood. I still remember the day we walked into the pre-school for the first time. What welcomed us first was the vast green lawn and the sand play area of the school. Behind this was situated a modest single storey building with a huge hall, which was divided into three sections. Our mind was a bit perplexed because by now we were used to seeing these complex preschool buildings with a maze of classes and a tiny artificial grass laid corner as play area. We stood and breathed in the fresh air and the greenery around, while Ikkhon dashed off to the sand pit and gave himself a treat. When we came back home, Ikkhon was clear he wanted to go to this school, and so were we.

It has been 3 months that Ikkhon is going to Notty Feet. I always wanted to go and spend some time in the school, Guna, Ikkhon’s teacher had been asking me to visit them for a while. So last week I went in. My experience of a day spent in the Waldorf inspired school, is what I will share with you today.

Like any Waldorf school, Notty Feet doesn’t have a grade system till the child reaches grade 1.  So all the 14 children of different age group spend their day pretty much together.   School starts from 9.00 AM. The first one hour is free play. The children head straight to the ground or the play area for an uninterrupted hour of play. When I say uninterrupted it literally is that way. When I think of a bunch of toddlers on the playground I invariably think of the chaos and the cacophony. But I saw nothing like that here. Everyone was playing at their own rhythm. Small skirmishes and scuffles took place but was resolved by the participants. The teacher, though present at the play area, never interfered. A lot of collaboration and problem solving happened by the toddlers because no one told them what to do.

By the end of the play time, the teacher brought a big bucket of water and left it next to the playground. The kids brought the toys they were playing with, dipped them in the water, washed them and kept them in the box. It was now time to go to class. Once everybody washed up and came to class, it was ‘Circle time’. Circle time in Waldorf world is when everyone gathers together to share songs, verses, dance, movement games and activities. These activities are all rhythmic in nature and involve the whole body. All the children and teachers come in a circle and start the day by thanking the cosmos for everything. This is followed by some songs and verses by the children and the teachers. I noticed that not all songs were part of our nursery rhymes repertoire but were on-the-go songs made up by the teacher and the children on the spot.                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                              By the end of Circle Time, they cut the fruits which each child brings from their home right there and share and eat. This exercise really surprised me. My child who needs considerable amount of coaxing during his meals at home, waited for his turn and obediently picked up a piece of apple, pear, papaya or cucumber every time the fresh fruit bowl came to him. Once the fruits were over, the children washed their hands and face and came back to the room. It was now time for indoor activity. Once again there was no instruction thrown out at the little ones. They all went to the wooden cupboard at the corner of the room and picked up their favourite toys. Some picked building blocks, some animals, some stacking toys, some kitchen toys and some picked up their crayons and started drawing. Typically, at this point I was expecting some fights and skirmishes, around taking the same toys, etc and instructions flying out at them saying how they must all share their toys. But nothing of that sort happened. This just reiterated how left on their own these kids can behave more responsibly, rather than with someone always breathing down their neck.

And while I was talking to the teachers, they said that this calm, almost temple-like environment within school is possible to achieve only and only through the famous ‘Waldorf rhythm’. It is difficult to explain the concept of ‘rhythm’ in just few words. I will try to explain it in my other posts. In short, rhythm in Waldorf ideology means “a repeated pattern.” Rhythm is more about sequencing and grouping activities than it is about a schedule with time slots. Here’s the thing. We live in a sea of natural rhythms, really. There is the rhythm of the seasons, the rhythm of the months, the rhythm of the weekdays hours, and minutes. The rhythm of our breathing and of our heartbeats. What Rudolf Steiner, the founder of Waldorf education, tried to do was incorporate a rhythm in the curriculum, so every activity has a meaning, a start and a closure. So, there is no concept of 30-40 minutes period for each subject here. What happens if the concept the teacher is explaining cannot be explained fully in 30 minutes, there is no closure.

Please note, by no means I’m trying to undermine any education system. I and many (actually most) of my friends and family have come out of regular education system, and we have turned out to be sane, happy, educated and moderately successful people. Certain aspects of alternate education system wow-ed me and I just want to share my experience here.

Waldorf upholds and encourages inclusion. We have two specially abled children in this group. The day I went to school only one of them had come. Ohh, it was such an adorable experience getting to spend time with him. But what filled my heart to the brim was seeing the love and acceptance among all the children. Everyone accepted the other for who they were. The empathy and care I saw in the eyes of these children that day filled my heart with hope.

While the children were left to explore and play by themselves it does not in any way mean that they were not learning anything. Each and every object was placed with a lot of thought. They were part of the classroom because they were supposed to teach something. There were wooden blocks, animals, kitchen items for role play, etc. They also had tool kits and big planks of wood, which these children were lifting and placing so they get to slide down or build their own sea-saw. These activities need a lot of hand-brain-eye coordination. After an hour and half of indoor activities, it was time for circle time again. This time there were some songs, the children thanked everyone who worked towards getting food on their table. Now two children were entrusted with the duty of laying the table for lunch, two were asked to tidy up the room and keep the toys back, and two boys went along to get the lunch from the school kitchen. Freshly cooked vegetable pulao and raita was served and the children sat and devoured it. Waldorf system believes in growing up organically and right food and right amount of sleep plays a key role in this. Hence the schools insists on providing the lunch, which takes care of a child’s nutritional need.

What also amazed me was that the school was entirely run only by two teachers. There were no ayah aunties or helpers. I remember while visiting other pre-schools how the teachers and principals kept mentioning the teacher & ayah aunty ratio versus kids in class. On the other hand in Waldorf school the kids are taught to be more self-dependant and is taught life skills before bookish knowledge. So picking their toys, cleaning toys, rinsing their plates, laying table and rolling chapati are activities which the kids are taught. Also the elder kids are more than happy to help the younger kids.

In a nutshell, a day spent at my son’s school gave me ample things to think over. There is no one right or wrong way to rearing a child or educating him/her. What is important is to pick the right one which suits the parent’s temperament and the child’s curiosity. Lastly, another aspect of Waldorf which struck the right chord with me is that it is a community school. The parents responsibility does not get over the moment theys end the child to school every morning. Waldorf schools are made by parents. Every important decision is run by the parents. At regular intervals there are Parents Circles where parents meet and discuss school matters, and indulge in activities along with the kids. The time when Notty Feet decided to set up a Jungle gym from scratch every parent was invited, and we went in a dug up the sand pit area, carried logs (yes, for the first time in my life I realised the presence of my arms, like never before), cleared weeds and helped set up the Jungle Gym. This brings in a different connect with the school and creates a bond which is beyond just monthly fees.

                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                               

The ART of not doing anything

“So what you doing this weekend”, my well-meaning colleague asked.

“Nothing”, I replied

“Really. you need to get a life”, pat came the reply.

I was stunned. Which part of my ‘Nothing’ gave away the impression I did not have a life. While pondering over it, I realised the art of doing nothing is slowly getting lost. One of my very fond childhood memories is of the hot afternoons (mostly during summer vacation) I spent lounging in the garden, doing nothing, just listening to the birds chirping, and street vendors calling out their different fares. My young mind was lulled into ‘nothingness’ as I breathed in the heady aroma of the jasmine flowers mixed with the hot damp smell of my beloved city; Kolkata.

But kids nowadays are not allowed to indulge in ‘nothingness’. Every second and every minute of their life must be filled with a purpose. French class, guitar lessons, swimming, drawing classes, Cuemath, Kumon, horse-riding, etc, fill in their days in a way that they do not find the time to do the most important things human beings are capable of doing: Observe, Think (on your own) and Feel. When I take my 3 year old to the neighbourhood park, I’m always greeted with the oft familiar picture of mothers pulling and pushing their kids on rides one after the other. If any kid is found standing in a corner and staring into ‘nothingness’, the parent is promptly by their side trying to coax him/her to the slide, or the swing, or the seesaw, because the one hour spent in the park MUST be spent doing what they are supposed to do, Play and have fun. We new-age parents take fun seriously too.

What is this life if, full of care,

We have no time to stand and stare.

No time to stand beneath the boughs

And stare as long as sheep or cows.

Well, what can I say, William Henry Davies must have owned a time machine. When was the last time you stood and saw a single, beautiful, forlorn flower slowly fall down the branch in rhythmic twirly movement and ever-so-gently hit the ground? I do not remember when.

I’m an inherently restless person, and there was a time in life when I too was busy filling in my days with ‘purposeful tasks’. But then divine intervention happened, in the form of my husband. Kunal taught me the value of ‘not doing anything’. How by not doing anything you can connect better with your own self, and achieve a sense of fulfilment and peace which no amount of busy schedules can give you. Honestly, the busier your schedule gets, the deeper the void inside you becomes.

Since I have experienced this journey from being restless to mindful, this state of nothingness impacts me more intensely. When I say mindful, I’m painfully aware that I’m nowhere close to be an absolute mindful person. My journey has just begun and I’m somehow flailing my arms, gasping and trying to stay afloat. Because mindfulness is a tough nut to crack, especially in a society like ours where ‘being busy’ is perceived as the cool thing, and ‘doing nothing’ is stuff losers do.

My recent tryst with Yoga nidra reinforced my belief in the power of ‘not doing anything, except being present at the moment’. I will not exaggerate if I say that Yoga nidra changed something deep down inside me. When I learned about the concept of Yoga nidra, I laughed. So I have to pay for a class and go and sleep there, really!!! I’m a super-exhausted working mother of a toddler, all I need to sleep is 40 seconds of silence. But of course Yoga nidra is so much more than sleeping. Yoga nidra to me is an absolute means of attaining a state of consciousness, where your mind and soul is ready to feel and realise the truth we otherwise would never fathom with our mortal senses. Nothing in life has helped me connect with myself more than this practice. This practice has made me lead life more slowly and meaningfully. What have I achieved out of that? Well, the leaves seem more greener, the person sitting across me more humane and my heart happier. It is a little gain, but so totally worth it 😊

That is enough about Yoga nidra now, I will write more about my experience in my coming blogs. For now we are talking about ‘doing nothing’. Through my words all I want to communicate is that it is okay if some of us consciously decide to take life slow. It is okay to stand and stare at ‘nothingness’. it is also okay, if you do not understand this. But at least try to not judge their way of life. 

When Ma Durga is not a devi.

Every year Durga Pujo comes and brings with it a fair share of heartache. The pain of staying away from home, from my parents, family, friends (most of them), and those lanes of my para (locality) which carries millions of memories. But this year the heartache was lot less. Because this year, we brought a piece of our home to Bangalore. The idea was hatched in our living rooms, and within a span of few months it slowly took its wings and was transformed into a beautiful reality called Harmony Mahotsav.

All these years I have grown up seeing the elders in my neighbourhood, do all the pujo arrangements. We would be mere spectators, watching all the grand arrangements be done for the almighty Mother Goddess. So to me, Ma Durga was the diva goddess who wanted her devotees to flawlessly carry on all her rituals. But this year as 12-13 inexperienced families came forward to welcome Goddess Durga home, she effortlessly slipped into being the daughter-next-door and was quick in forgiving our numerous faux pas. While I will not remember many of my old pujos back home, I will never forget the joy I felt, as we ladies sat together picking flowers, arranging 108 diyas and lotus flowers for Sandhi pujo, cutting fruits for bhog, making noibadya, preparing bhog for Ma with my own hands. It is difficult to explain this feeling. It is a strange feeling of fulfilment only Ma Durga can bestow on us.

While I should thank a lot of people, I don’t want to say it loud here, in the apprehension of missing out anyone unknowingly.  But one person I cannot miss thanking is Dhriti di, for giving me the chance to do my little bit, knowing very well that I will not be available always (thanks to office and Mr Toddler).

On a parting note, it felt refreshing to welcome Ma as a family member rather than the devi who is shrouded by religious fanaticism. Eibhabei nijer hoe esho protyek bocchor Ma...

The son speaks, Again

Hello MumMum,

How are you doing? I heard my last letter to you was very much loved by your ‘big-people’ friends (please note, any individual above the age of 5 will be referred to as ‘big-people’).  Well, just like last time, I will come straight to the point, as now I have even less time. Growing up is not easy, you see. Last time when I wrote to you, I was just 10 months old, and what I said was merely babbling baby-talks. But I have grown up now, I am 21 months old and I have my responsibilities. Ohh, yes I do. Don’t look so bewildered MumMum. 

My foremost responsibility is to let you and other big-people know that we babies have a life which is much bigger than eating broccoli, being potty-trained or knowing our ‘first 100’ words. We have millions of stars to be stared at, thousands of fireflies to chase and a whole new world to explore. And this we want to do our way....the fun, messy, crazy way! 

Talking about crazy, I know my latest, “I point, you tell’ game is turning you crazy MumMum. But I don’t understand why you are having so much trouble with it really. It is a very simple game. Whenever I feel like (which is all my waking hours), I will point at some things around the house, in a book, or on the road (if we are travelling), and you simply will have to name the things I’m pointing at. See, it’s super fun! Yes, I agree sometimes I point at several things at a time. I do that just to mess around with your head. But even you hide broccoli and paneer (cottage cheese) pieces in my food (yuukkk!). So, we are even now.

But you are not the only person I want to be even with MumMum. DaDa tops my list actually. Well, he continues to manhandle me, and seems like with each passing day he is getting better at it. You know, how he keeps telling you that he loves playing ball with me. Well, he misses out the most important point here, I guess. He doesn’t kick the ball with me, he kicks it at me. Ohh great, now you are laughing. I thought the mother is always supposed to be on her boy’s side, but you seem to be teaming up with the wrong boy here. You know, in some countries this might be considered as child abuse. 

Okay enough complaining. I guess I just need to be the bigger person here and forgive you guys. I just need to think of my happy memories. And my one most happy memory is of DaDa tucking me in for the night. Every night just before putting me to sleep, he holds me gently with both hands and says, “When I first saw you, you were so small you hardly reached to my elbow, and look at you now”. Seriously, you can ask him to say something new now.

I want to tell you something MumMum. I love you! You say this to me some hundred times in a day, and I know you’re dying to hear it from my lips. Since I cannot say it out loud, yet, I’m going to say it here. I love you to the moon, sun, stars and back. Whenever you are around, my world seems perfect. Whenever you are playing with me, I feel the happiest. Every time you pick me up, I feel like I’m on cloud nine. Every time you read to me, I feel loved. The sound of your voice soothes me. Now now, please do not cry MumMum, I hate to see you crying. Crying in front of a toddler is really not a good idea, as it might lead me to jump to conclusions and believe that I am the reason why you are upset. What? Do not look at me like that, it is what Google says! But Google knows nothing about us little people. So take it from me MumMum, cry, laugh, kiss, sing, hug and dance in front of me. Only when you do all that will I learn to accept them as natural part of life. 

MumMum I know sometimes you get upset with me. Sometimes when I spill food or drink on the floor, or when I smuggle your spice jars from the kitchen cabinet, or when I splash water at you during bath times, or when I throw the trash cans upside down. From where you stand MumMum I might be wrong, but if you just slip into my booties and see for a moment, you will know I do all this (and much more)because I love you. Only when I spill something on the floor do you bring your washcloth and bend on the floor to clean, and that is exactly when I get to come and hug you from behind and get a piggyback ride. Ohh MumMum I love our piggyback rides...they are precious. Now about the spice jars. Sometimes when you are busy in the kitchen and you don’t play with me, I feel lonely. So i bring your spice jars and hide them in my toys. Because I know after a while you will come looking for them and spend some time with me. Ohh and the water splashing during bath time is my absolute favourite one. I know you secretly love that too, you just pretend to be angry at me.  And that leaves us with the trash cans. Well, that I just do to annoy you. Sorry. 

It’s almost my nap-time MumMum, so I will be quick. This thing that I’m about to say is something that all my friends want you big-people to know. We little ones are supposed to learn the ropes of life from you, and we do. We laugh, walk, talk and eat like you. We look at you and we want to be like you.But there are certain things that big-people should be learning from us too. The first thing is to laugh. I have seen many big-people laugh, but something always seems to be missing from your laugh. It is like, your lips are laughing, but your eyes are not. Look at us babies, we laugh with our lips, eyes, tummy, ears and sometimes even our toes! Why can’t big-people laugh like that? The second thing that you can learn from us is to listen. We babies see and hear EVERYTHING. We listen to the things that you tell us, and listen more keenly to things you do not want to tell us.  But as per my observation, big-people do not seem to listen a lot. They always seem to be in a hurry. MumMum even you seem to be in rush sometimes, and it seems like you are here, but not really here. And I do not like those days. I like the days when we are quiet, and we are here. Like the days we spend time gardening. I love the way you tend to the flowers, talk to the plants, and listen to the buds in bloom. I love being with you on those days, digging the soil with you and watering the plants.

MumMum, I’m very sleepy now (stifles a long yawn). Good night.  I might write to you soon, or not. Till then you laugh more, sing more, dream more, cuddle me more and worry less.

I love you,

The son

**************

*In 2017 I wrote a blog post, The son speaks. The above blog is an extension of the same.

The old man,his books and his wise words..

When I woke up today, I had no idea how enriching my day was going to be.

Last week while browsing through a popular social media site I came across this event happening in Johannesburg. It was a second hand book sale. The event description said, a ‘Recently retired academic's personal library. An impressive selection of over 4000 books to be sold.’ I kept reading and re-reading the event description, partly happy, partly confused and also strangely angry. I was naturally happy because the books were sold at a ridiculously less price. But what confused me and further angered me was the fact that someone has actually arranged a book-sale to see unknown people touch and take away his beloved books. I tried telling myself to calm down. I do not know the person and hence I could not be angry on him. But a part of me was highly dejected, and I kept going back to the events page. Finally I decided to go.

Today morning when we reached at the gate of the mansion, it was drizzling. In my mind the backdrop seemed perfect, as the universe must be deeply saddened by this treacherous activity. But I quickly controlled my mind from the melodramatic ranting, composed myself and stepped into the foyer. The house had a warm welcoming vibe, and it was clear that everything was placed with a lot of thought and care. I crossed the foyer and walked down a narrow hall-way, when I heard voices coming over from the room on my left. As I turned and stepped inside, I found myself standing in one of the best home library I have ever seen. The two walls on either side of me were covered with thick wood panelled book-shelves. The room was U-shaped with two floors. From where I stood i looked up to an elegant crystal chandelier, around which the wooden carved railing of the second floor could be seen. There was a huge table in the middle of the room. Behind the table a spiral stair-case led to the second floor. There were around 10-12 people in the library, who must have come for the sale. I looked around the place trying to locate the owner. At the corner of the room there were few chairs and I could see two elderly gentlemen and a lady were engrossed in conversation. I looked at them from the corner of my eye, trying to understand who the academician was. 

His collection was diverse, impressive and awe-inspiring. Homer’s Iliad rubbed shoulder with Aldous Huxley, Shakespeare’s plays stood next to John Osborne. There were books on the history of chamber music, wine tasting, law, gardening, travelling and so on. It was like tens and thousands of different worlds colliding against one another, creating this magical realm. I just closed my eyes and let my fingers brush through the spines of the books, taking in their stories. I didn’t realise when I had reached the corner of the room. As I looked up I saw few young college students were standing around a kind-faced octogenarian man, “You kids should have come yesterday. Today is the 2^nd day of the sale, and most of the good volumes are already sold off.” He was looking through the books these students had picked up and was helping them chose the right ones. He had the kindest face and the wisest eyes I had ever seen. I walked to the other end of the room.

I picked some books for myself and walked to the table in the centre of the room where a young man was busy with the transactions. Kunal said maybe I should meet the owner once before leaving and thank him, as a courtesy. But I was not sure of that. I still harboured some mixed feelings for the person and didn’t want to face him with my prejudices. So I stayed back in the queue. As my turn came I laid down my books and started handing them to the guy at the counter. Suddenly someone took a book from my stack and said, “I was wondering why no one was taking this book. This one is a sure winner. I hope you have good time reading this one.” It was the elderly gentleman I had seen before, the owner of this envying library. 

I smiled and thanked him politely.

And before I knew the words poured down my lips. “How can you sale your books to complete strangers?”

He looked at me, as if he is noticing me for the first time. A pleasant smile crossed his lips and sat cosily in his eyes. “I’m not selling them to strangers. I’m selling them to people I know will value them. I have read these books and I know that I will never read them again. Moreover this is just one-third of my whole collection.” He paused and silence swiftly filled in the spaces within and without.

“And you know young lady”, he spoke again, “As you grow old, you must learn to live light and let go of the things that binds you.”.

Sometimes few words can teach you more than what a library full of books can do.