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
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