Things a Map Won't Show You
Page 13
I saw the determination on her face. Yet I laughed at her.
‘Avva, at this age of sixty-two you want to learn alphabets? All your hairs are grey, your hands are wrinkled, you wear spectacles and you work so much in the kitchen …’
Childishly I made fun of the old lady. But she just smiled.
‘For a good cause if you are determined, you can overcome any obstacle. I will work harder than anybody but I will do it. For learning there is no age bar.’
The next day onwards I started my tuition. Avva was a wonderful student. The amount of homework she did was amazing. She would read, repeat, write and recite. I was her only teacher and she was my first student. Little did I know then that one day I would become a teacher in Computer Science and teach hundreds of students.
The Dasara festival came as usual. Secretly I bought Kashi Yatre which had been published as a novel by that time. My grandmother called me to the puja place and made me sit down on a stool. She gave me a gift of frock material. Then she did something unusual. She bent down and touched my feet. I was surprised and taken aback. Elders never touch the feet of youngsters. We have always touched the feet of God, elders and teachers. We consider that as a mark of respect. It is a great tradition but today the reverse had happened. It was not correct.
She said, ‘I am touching the feet of a teacher, not my grand-daughter; a teacher who taught me so well, with so much affection that I can read any novel confidently in such a short period. Now I am independent. It is my duty to respect a teacher. Is it not written in our scriptures that a teacher should be respected, irrespective of the gender and age?’
I did return namaskara to her by touching her feet and gave my gift to my first student. She opened it and immediately read aloud the title Kashi Yatre by Triveni and the publisher’s name.
I knew then that my student had passed with flying colours.
Black tribe, yellow tribe, red, white or brown,
From where the sun jumps up to where it goes down,
Herrs and pukka-sahibs, demoiselles and squaws,
All one family, so why make wars?
They’re not interested in brumby runs,
We don’t hanker after Midnight suns;
I’m for all humankind, not colour gibes;
I’m international, and never mind tribes.
Black, white or brown race, yellow race or red,
From the torrid equator to the ice-fields spread,
Monsieurs and senors, lubras and fraus,
All one family, so why family rows?
We’re not interested in their igloos,
They’re not mad about kangaroos;
I’m international, never mind place;
I’m for humanity, all one race.
PUFFIN BOOKS
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Published by Penguin Group (Australia), 2012
Copyright © this collection Penguin Group Australia 2012
Copyright © in individual stories remains with the authors/illustrators
The moral right of the author/illustrator has been asserted. All rights reserved.
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‘The Legend of Lungalunga’ by Samson Tavat, When the Moon Was Big: Legends from New Guinea, comp. Ulli Beier, illus. Georgina Beier, William Collins (Australia) Ltd, 1972. Reproduced by permission of Georgina Beier.
‘Integration’ by Jack Davis reproduced by arrangement with The Jack Davis Estate, c/- Curtis Brown (Aust) Pty Ltd.
‘Chewing Gum’ by Anonymous, Modern Japanese Poetry, ed. A.R. Davis, UQP, 1978. Reproduced by permission of the publisher.
‘All One Race’ by Oodgeroo of the tribe Noonuccal, My People 4/e, John Wiley & Sons, Australia, 2008. Reproduced by permission of the publisher.
Every effort has been made by the publisher to obtain permission to reproduce ‘The Two Little Round Stones’ by Obed Raggett, Spirit Song: A Collection of Aboriginal Poetry, comp. Lorraine Mafi-Williams, Omnibus Books, 1993.
ISBN: 978-1-74253-571-5