Just gazing at the maps when I have
nothing else to do has been a favourite passtime with me since my early
schooling days in the early seventies. Multi coloured maps, multi
coloured lines, zigzag boundaries, tongue twisting names ; some in
capital and some in small, some in bold and some so faint... Many things
didn't make much sense then, but curiosity kept me going.
When
the subject of Geography was formally introduced in the our class, a
sense of superiority engulfed me. I felt I was ahead of the rest at
least by a nose length. While most of my peers struggled to find their
North on the vivacious Indian map, I could pinpoint even South, East and
West with admirable accuracy!
Our Geography teacher, a young
smart well dressed, multi faceted, multi talented personality was more
of a rock star who also taught geography. As per the school curriculum,
the subject itself had much less 'shelf life' as compared to the other
big bully subjects like PCMB etc. So our teacher knew how to keep the
interest of the students alive. Yeah, you guessed it right. By being
very generous with the marks.
Marking the geographical features
on those tiny 6x6 inch plain India maps with those nearly blunt
coloured pencils was one herculean task. Little did we then realise
that it was indeed a blessing in disguise. While accuracy fetched full
marks, ambiguity never failed anyone. Our sir was extremely strict
when it came to choice of colour of pencils while marking different
geographical features. Rest everything was manageable.
Often our
Aravalli ranges stepped into Pakistan without visa and River Ganges
meandered to Puri to pay obeisance to Lord Jagannath. Such acts of
omissions and commissions often brought smile on our Sir's face and
consequently brought cheer on our sullen faces too. So long as the
thick brown line was somewhere in central part of India, our sir had
this uncanny knack to dig out the Vindhyas from its underneath and
generously give marks. Also as long as the blue line of Krishna was
north of Cauvery and the Western Ghats didn't switch places with their
Eastern brethren, it was ok with him. Needless to say we loved him for
his generosity and owed it to him to draw those lines more accurately
the next time around only to repeat the same mistakes all over again.
Our sir was however strict too. when it came to melody, rhythm,
harmony, texture or form of his first love, he would never budge an
inch. Wedded to music, he often crooned, "Endendu ninnanu marétű,
badukiralaré..".
As our focus shifted to the 'more real'
technical subjects in the higher classes, geography most lamentably
faded into oblivion, lifting its head only once in a while during
current affairs discussions. Often now I feel astounded about the way we
so playfully drew those lines on the maps then... , I now dread to
recall that wars have been fought, nations lost and millions killed just
because someone chose to redraw those sensitive lines on those elusive
political maps! Treacherous echoes of a shoddy incomplete
irresponsible work of one Mr Radcliffe with little clarity on class,
composition or the complexities of an enormous country like India,
reverbete today even after 70 years of our Partition. In the world over,
along the persisting dotted lines, millions are still in search of
their homeland, be it Gaza, West Bank or Golan heights. Albeit on a low
key, in Baloch, Falkland or Somiland too, unrest simmers.
Folks,
a line on a map is no simple line. On either side of the line lie a
million hopes, dreams and desires to make this world their own oyster.
Isn't it time we all learn to draw our own lines correctly, accommodate
each other's aspirations and make this world a better place to live in!
Jai Hind.....
✍️satishdeshpande
