Why some students quit schooling?

A first ever kind of post I am writing as a concerned teacher and moreover, as a loyal citizen. I may sound naïve but with utmost feeling, I pour out this sentiment left by some of our parents on their children.

Not all students hail from a sound background. Some are rich, some middle class and some very poor. So poor that they even can’t meet their own necessities. However, whether rich or poor, parenting plays a vital role in grooming up the children in school.

Students who are parented well at home are most likely to succeed in school than others. No wonder. They conduct themselves well. Their whereabouts are watched every day, be it in school or away from school by their parents. If they show up late to home, they are scrutinized strictly. Their homework’s are frequently monitored upon and ensure that the child is free from the substance abuse.

More importantly, they spare most of their time with the children.

A child upped in this conducive environment is definite to perform well in life, not only in school.

However, some students are just the opposite. They are so disruptive that they even go to the extent of vandalizing principal’s office. No matter how often they are consoled, berated or even caned they hardly show slim improvements.

Despite the perennial efforts, the progress of such students regresses blatantly. He or she begins to portray no interest on books, disturbs the next students and many a times, avoid attending classes. Furthermore, their conduct remains too adamant to be changed.

Is it the intentional decadence of the student? Or is it the negation of the teachers? 

The question, long time back rested on teachers alone can be answered if only there is equal willingness from the parents.

Together, the collective effort can help resolve the problem.

Of late, one of my students suddenly went missing from the school. Since then I have always wondered with much perplexities. Did I fail to do my part?

Later I enquired and found from his friends that he left the school. Nobody actually knew the root cause. Not to worsen the matter further, I broached the concern to school management. The school called up for necessary intervention but failed from other side.

One day along with the excursion made by my agriculture students to a nearby village, I was also accompanied. My mission was to personally meet his parents and sort out the mess. In spite of confessing the problems, the mother never did once come into my sight. I just wanted to convey her that the school is permanently striking off his name and handing over the student to them. All my trials went unnoticed.

Days later, a close neighbor of him shared me everything. He didn’t want to drop school by choice. Circumstances compelled.

He was the eldest of the three. Sometimes, he returned to school after lunch without food. He tended his little brother and sister which barred him from coming to school. Besides, his parents were also split up.

The shocking part was quite often, it was the 16 year old boy who headed the house, when he himself was incompetent of heading. What is more shocking was the mothers’ ignorance on her child’s whereabouts.

If parents work collaboratively with teachers, I am certain that every child will be special.

Digital detox

We live in a world where we are completely engulfed in the pleasures of electronic paraphernalia. Further, the growth of various tempting gadgets and gears has blended in much more comfort to human life, so often resulting in cataclysm.

It has created disparity; status ailment and a whole lot have become thralldom out of it. Our cognizance has been excessively obsessed that we don’t want to desist it even for a short while. With so much of dependency, the human mind is drenching out of propensity and liveliness which was once mother of all creation. 

Moreover, with mammoth penchant for the technologies, chances are there that the endangered customs and traditions of one’s independent life may extinct.

Nonetheless, the cosmos have witnessed unprecedented joy with the birth of bizarre electronics. More than anything, it has prioritized our comfort and time. Since its advent, we have been able to carry the world on our palm, plunge into the deepest of the ocean and rummage through the wildest of nature. Sometimes, even revive the lost life. Such is the affinity we have for electronic gears.

More likely, it has become a sort of supplementary organ without which we feel vestigial and desolated.

I have never been disconnected from cell phones at least for the last seven years. Independently, I started owning one right after the completion of my high schools. Since then, I have grown too accustomed to it that wherever it was, I always carried and kept it connected. If it was not for the call, than it would be for music or do some gaming over the phone.

However, I suffered painlessly before two days when I forgot to carry the phone with me. I was rushing against the limited time, fretting that I might drop by late. On nearing the gate, I effortlessly fumbled my hand into the pocket to check the time but I fished nothing inside. Alas! The phone was left home. And to turn back was just a squander of energy.

I clambered hard over the desultory thoughts and truncated the unease reproachfully. I mulled over and made a silent resolution to abnegate it at least for a day. Then I strolled past the door as if somnambulating in dream. Panting a heavy sigh, I perched on the maroon chair with runnel of thoughts which I never frequently ponder upon.

“How would it be in sheer absence of technologies”? And I exited the room.

Contemplating the serene air, I stood on the lawn only to be interrupted by the sonorous sound of the bell. One of the phones buzzed, crossing my mind to unconsciously fumble my hand back again into the pouch but only to fish the void inside. Every time others phone rang, I was the one checking it for my reflex has been conditioned.

A day off from simple gadget has armed me with true essence of pencils and papers. Besides, while making romance with my own penmanship, I learnt not to rely so much on lifeless object.

How often do you part from electronic aids? Please share your insightful stories with us.

Grievances over water shortage

Here I am up with another post, one of its kinds written somewhere in mid last year. 

Needless to say, water is life. If deprived, it is a menace.

Water scarcity is not a solo problem but a nationwide concern. The scant water supply here is really worrying. The fact is, neither do I see skyscraper crowding nor do I see sharp modernization overtaking. Yet, the problem erects before us like the giant unconquerable mountains.

Besides, it has become a frequent feast for media from here. Despite the voices aired up on media, the implementation accelerates at tortoise speed. Hence, the stake remains persistent throughout.

In a sprouting place where population is modest and where there is not much of housing congestions, I find it too untimely to have faced with such problem. Or is it the total negligence of people on management of water?

It has been almost a year since I last housed here. Still I have not been a witness to a single day with rich water supply. Every time it is disgruntled face expressing their grievances over the same age old problem. Only few wise think on tackling the issue, but until a handsome willing hands shoot up along with some aid from the concerned agency, the problem would always remain as a problem.

I am a daily victim of this problem. I fail to be morning lark. And by the time I am up, my reservoir is empty, hungrily guzzled upon by the neighbor next door. At times, it is maddening but someone, whose voice is unheard and not heeded on, always remains suppressed and inhibited. 

A friend of mine who is a native denizen of the place has been moaning over the problem for last few years. Still the progress seems sluggish, he claims. However, with a cloud of hope in eyes, he waits for the good day to unfurl. Of the many, hoteliers are severely inflicted with trouble because with the insufficient water supply, the income they generate is a shoestring budget. Often the hotels remain shut down.

Given the timely downpour and favorable weather to rely on, what is it that still leaves us short of water? Is it that the source is getting dehydrated or never been scrutinized since its inception? I am bewildered. 

Seriously, it is never too late to pluck the loophole before the problem becomes a grave consequence.

While we have reaped plurality of pleasures from what our forefathers have inherited for us, let’s also not forget to invest wisely for our budding generations. 

But like in olden days, people often have to disappear among the bushes.

With Balay Balay and agay

I never did realize the fun of mingling up with aged people until lately. I always looked for a way to shrink away and even if one turned up, I was so indisposed to their candour that I rejected it flatly. However this time by default, I was conferred good opportunity to sit around with oldies and celebrate the day together. Perhaps, I should remember the day as the best ever celebrated blessed rainy day. 

The day cracked up with greetings from the sun rays gently warming up the air inside the room. No sooner did I freshen up than a neighbour next door invited me for lunch. I felt as if I was home with my own parents. With a pot of porridge I bided farewell to breakfast followed by some preparations for the day. Lunch hour was in air when a man of late sixties and seventies joined us with their wrinkled face and eyes pocketed deep inside.

It wasn’t until some thirty minutes before that they broke the ice when they were poured with a cup of locally brewed chankey. The two senior old folks were comfortably seated with their backs leaned on sofa as if in charge of the day. First they started with some historic background and significance of the day and after which came the joke of the annual bath by the senior citizen. We all burst out laughing to the joke, but he interjected and helped himself with another round. But he didn’t even show us the slightest hint of intoxication and maintained his pace. 

“Agay, how many children have you produced” asked I with a grin. “I didn’t marry” followed the reluctant reply. I stopped inquiring further dreading the sombre looks of the agay. Later I knew from my neighbour that agay never paired up with any women. As the conversation heated up, all of us were well acquainted and I did not dread any longer.

The other man took us back to sixties when Bhutanese were still not exposed to wearing underwear. He even narrated his first incidence with a women and how he got rid of virginity. Compared to agay, he was fortunate enough to be partially schooled. Often the man blended in some English words in his joke which puzzled agay. But every time he uttered an alien word, he made it sure that it reached agay’s ear in translated language. Noticing this, I laughed hysterically and seldom did the man stare me with his uninviting eyes. 

Next he narrated about how he earned the sobriquet “Balay Balay”. It was told so lively that it almost took my breath away. Agay nodded to his joke but never displayed adequate smile.

So often their conversation followed light arguments which left us ambivalent on whom to referee.

By then the clock on the wall chimed five times warning us with the sundown. I went to thank agay for his good humor but not until he wakes up from his snore. Uncle Balay Balay stood till the last bottle.

I called off my day pacifically with blessing and memoirs carved on my heart.