Hummingbird
18th June 2007, 10:39 AM
[tscii:388179b61b]It was one of those Moral Science Classes that we always looked forward to. Moral Science classes were compulsory for all girls in class 6 to 12 and were scheduled as the last class for the day. Ours was on Thursdays. We were chit chatting and already getting ready to run out immediately after the bill rings at the end of the class thinking nobody was going to enter the class. Teaching Moral Science to a group of girls in Class 11 was a tough task for any teacher, let alone come into the Moral Science class
As luck would have it, Mrs Thomas happened to be our Moral Science teacher this year and she is as famous for her goodness as for her toughness in the entire school.
“Okay girls… what do we want to discuss today?” This was her opening sentence as soon as she entered the class and we were still hurrying back to our respective seats. None of us were in the mood to even open our mouth. But Mrs. Thomas would not let us have it. She looked around as we settled down and said, “It looks like I have to do something to make you talk. Fine, who is the class representative?”
Cursing my fate, I got up and said, “That’s me ma’am. My name is Nethra”. “Please don’t ask me to choose the girl who has to talk. Whoever I choose, I am sure she will kill me as soon as you leave the class”, I prayed to her inside my heart.
“Nethra, why don’t you decide what we want to discuss today? As a class representative, why don’t you set an example to your friends?”
This was the last thing I needed today. “Why didn’t I fall sick today morning? Why didn’t I fall down from my cycle and get hurt? Why didn’t I get stomach pain after lunch?”
I tried hard to think but in vain. I looked at Mrs. Thomas and said “Ma’am, I need your help. I am honestly trying, but nothing comes to my mind”. She probably sensed that I was indeed honest and looked at me kindly and said “Dear, think of something that you experienced and which disturbed you. May be the same thing happens to many of your friends. May be we can discuss and find a solution or a way to handle it”.
That morning when I was leaving for school I had asked mom, “Mom, I want to go for a movie with my friends over this weekend. Can I?”. “Oh! Dear, you are a big girl now and wherever you want to go it should be either with me or your dad or your brother Nayan. I don’t want my lovely girl to get a bad name from others. If you want to go to a movie, ask your dad and we can go with his permission”.
Why is it that Nayan does not get a bad name when he goes out with his friends? Why is it that Nayan can always go wherever he wants by himself? I had hundred such questions in my mind. But I knew I cannot ask any of them because I am a “BIG GIRL” now.
“Are you alright, Nethra?” Mrs. Thomas’ question brought me back to the present and I decided I will raise this as the topic. “Thank you, ma’am. I am alright. I would like to know why is that there is always a discrimination against girls at home, especially when they grow up into their teens. Why it is that boys are always allowed to enjoy their teens whereas girls are protected and are told that “Home is where they belong””.
Mrs. Thomas smiled at me understandingly and addressed the class.
“Girls are like roses. A gardener applies fertilizers, prunes the plants for unwanted leaves, waters the plants regularly and toils a lot, all for one reason, for the roses to bloom beautifully. To safeguard the roses from stray animals, he fences his garden and makes sure that the plant grows in a safe environment. What your parents do is also like that. All the restrictions they impose on you are to take care of you, safeguard you, protect you and ensure that you grow up safely and beautifully. So, don’t mistake what your mothers say. Whatever they are doing, they are doing for your good only”.
Now, I had thousands of questions. If girls are like roses, what are boys like? If parents want to safeguard us, why is it that they don’t want to safeguard boys like the way they safeguard us?
More than anything else, I was unable to understand the metaphor that Mrs. Thomas used. If parents are like gardeners and we are roses, then does it mean that they take care of us only to see that we blossom beautifully so that they can get us married easily? Are we really like roses?
As I was contemplating these questions, the bell rang and Mrs. Thomas said “Okay girls, we will meet again next Thursday. I would appreciate if any of you can think of some topic for our next class” and she left.
Since nobody was listening to either the topic I chose or the explanation that Mrs. Thomas gave, all of them started leaving without any thought about what happened over the last one hour. As I was about to leave, someone touched my shoulders from behind me. I turned around to see Sara, my classmate, standing behind me. She took my right hand in hers, looked at me for one long moment and said “That was a good topic”
Sara is Mrs. Thomas’ daughter and has a brother, 2 years older than her.[/tscii:388179b61b]
As luck would have it, Mrs Thomas happened to be our Moral Science teacher this year and she is as famous for her goodness as for her toughness in the entire school.
“Okay girls… what do we want to discuss today?” This was her opening sentence as soon as she entered the class and we were still hurrying back to our respective seats. None of us were in the mood to even open our mouth. But Mrs. Thomas would not let us have it. She looked around as we settled down and said, “It looks like I have to do something to make you talk. Fine, who is the class representative?”
Cursing my fate, I got up and said, “That’s me ma’am. My name is Nethra”. “Please don’t ask me to choose the girl who has to talk. Whoever I choose, I am sure she will kill me as soon as you leave the class”, I prayed to her inside my heart.
“Nethra, why don’t you decide what we want to discuss today? As a class representative, why don’t you set an example to your friends?”
This was the last thing I needed today. “Why didn’t I fall sick today morning? Why didn’t I fall down from my cycle and get hurt? Why didn’t I get stomach pain after lunch?”
I tried hard to think but in vain. I looked at Mrs. Thomas and said “Ma’am, I need your help. I am honestly trying, but nothing comes to my mind”. She probably sensed that I was indeed honest and looked at me kindly and said “Dear, think of something that you experienced and which disturbed you. May be the same thing happens to many of your friends. May be we can discuss and find a solution or a way to handle it”.
That morning when I was leaving for school I had asked mom, “Mom, I want to go for a movie with my friends over this weekend. Can I?”. “Oh! Dear, you are a big girl now and wherever you want to go it should be either with me or your dad or your brother Nayan. I don’t want my lovely girl to get a bad name from others. If you want to go to a movie, ask your dad and we can go with his permission”.
Why is it that Nayan does not get a bad name when he goes out with his friends? Why is it that Nayan can always go wherever he wants by himself? I had hundred such questions in my mind. But I knew I cannot ask any of them because I am a “BIG GIRL” now.
“Are you alright, Nethra?” Mrs. Thomas’ question brought me back to the present and I decided I will raise this as the topic. “Thank you, ma’am. I am alright. I would like to know why is that there is always a discrimination against girls at home, especially when they grow up into their teens. Why it is that boys are always allowed to enjoy their teens whereas girls are protected and are told that “Home is where they belong””.
Mrs. Thomas smiled at me understandingly and addressed the class.
“Girls are like roses. A gardener applies fertilizers, prunes the plants for unwanted leaves, waters the plants regularly and toils a lot, all for one reason, for the roses to bloom beautifully. To safeguard the roses from stray animals, he fences his garden and makes sure that the plant grows in a safe environment. What your parents do is also like that. All the restrictions they impose on you are to take care of you, safeguard you, protect you and ensure that you grow up safely and beautifully. So, don’t mistake what your mothers say. Whatever they are doing, they are doing for your good only”.
Now, I had thousands of questions. If girls are like roses, what are boys like? If parents want to safeguard us, why is it that they don’t want to safeguard boys like the way they safeguard us?
More than anything else, I was unable to understand the metaphor that Mrs. Thomas used. If parents are like gardeners and we are roses, then does it mean that they take care of us only to see that we blossom beautifully so that they can get us married easily? Are we really like roses?
As I was contemplating these questions, the bell rang and Mrs. Thomas said “Okay girls, we will meet again next Thursday. I would appreciate if any of you can think of some topic for our next class” and she left.
Since nobody was listening to either the topic I chose or the explanation that Mrs. Thomas gave, all of them started leaving without any thought about what happened over the last one hour. As I was about to leave, someone touched my shoulders from behind me. I turned around to see Sara, my classmate, standing behind me. She took my right hand in hers, looked at me for one long moment and said “That was a good topic”
Sara is Mrs. Thomas’ daughter and has a brother, 2 years older than her.[/tscii:388179b61b]