Spring In Winter

Spring In Winter

Why hasn’t Manohar come as yet, this man! Her water is boiling, should she add tea leaves, or wait. He should be coming soon but, if he doesn’t, it'll be a bitter brew. She looks across. Stephen is sitting on the small stool, waiting with her. His patience irritates her, "Get up why don’t you go out and see where he is. "

"What will I go out and...", he begins then stands and walks towards the door. "He'll come."

"When?" she asks. "Those two girls will be back soon. They may want their tea, too. Call out for Babbi. Ask him to go and get some from the hotel."

Stephen hesitates. She knows why. Its not easy to ask any one to do anything, every one gets slightly irritated. "These two old people, and their demands", they seem to say in unspoken words.

And I’ve stayed awake nights for them and their parents now even their children, but that’s parenthood, and this is old age.

How angry Hemu had been at me, for dropping oil, all over the gas. The bottle just slipped from my hand.

“What if the glass had cut you?”, Hemu had said

"If it cuts it cuts, nothing happened", she had answered.

“But it could have maa. What was the need to cook so late at night, in the dark and how can you crave for bhajiyas after dinner?"

"Arre bhook lage to khaye, man mein ayye to banaye"

Hemu frowned. "Hamko bula lete"

"Haan agli baar," she had said, knowing well that she wouldn’t.

Hemu will not understand our passion for food. She who eats her food standing, what will she know of cravings. And at this age what else is there, thode din to aur hain, achcha kha pi lo. Stephen and she giggling and making bhajjiyas late in the night, feeding each other. What would Hemu know. Staying alone in that house of hers, always working.

“Aur ab hame neend bhi to nahin aati”, she had pointed out.

“To tash khelo na dono baith ke”, Hemu had gone off shaking her head.

She and Stephen looked at each other and giggled. Their roles had reversed with their children. I'll make halwa tomorrow. Hemu likes it. With lots of ghee, the way I like it.

The lights will go soon.

"Get me the lamp, Stephen”, she calls.

Pinki should have done this but then what can I say. Where is this Manohar?

The old man starts to take down the tea cups from the shelf.

“Keep one for Manohar. He will demand his cup of tea”

It has started to rain. And those two girls where are they. They didn’t even tell me how long they would be. She looks at the food that waits for them. Let them eat cold food then.

She looks out at the darkness, there used to be a big garden here. A tiger had once come and taken away our calf. What calf, Somti's calf? No not Somti, she is going to calf now, that one was fifty years ago. It was when Baxter was ill. Baxter, her favourite, how did he turn out like this? What a terrible night we spent, crouching here, with the tiger snarling out side. Dr saab had killed it the next day.

Dak saab and miss sahib. Those people, all dead. Her sisters, and Jamni, Sundari, and oh the list is endless. Only she and Stephen. And this town look at how it has changed. Phone, bus, na janne kya kya. Aur khaman ke packet, Dhai bada bhi paket mein. Acche bane the pichili baar. Malum nahin kab agyega papad wala. I'll get some for Kusum, this way at least she can make it and eat. Paani me gholo aur tayar.

Ab to hum sab Angrezon jaisa khane lage hain, kam kam mehnat mein. Miss Saab to saab ubla khana khati thi. Acchi thi woh Miss Saab. Bechari, apne bachon se door, opened a school for us, but sent her children to school to her country. Sab chale gaye, ab to.

Angrejon ne kitna diya ham ko, woh kya burre the? These Swadeshis, how they would come in tolis, asking questions. They broke the board once.

“No one will learn English”, the angrez must go back.

The mob, how scary it seemed. When was it, now or then?

Six years back, too they had come in tolis. Dhram badala rahe ho. How they had howled in front of the gate. It was then that they had stared to lock it. It all seems the same.

Ab dekho sab loot rahe, hain. Kitna paise khate hain yeh neta log. Newspapers all full of reports of corruption!

Hamesha kisi na kisi ka to raj rehata hai, first the muslims, then thakurs, then the angrez now the BJP.

Look what they've done, got the missions money from abroad stopped. That will stop Angrez Raj they said. Angrez gaye par raj gaya kya?

Just look at the school, so run down.

And all those attacks, on churches, on people. This will bring Ramraj?

But its better to be careful, who knows what they will take offence to. Kal koi ko bata diya Jesus ke baare mein, to bolenge dharam badlane ki koshish kar rahe ho.

Aur yeh log mein itni choot chat. Mere haat ka paani tak nahin pina, par Issai dactar ki dawai chalti hai!

Miss saab logon ne ham sab ko pada diya. Achchi thi Miss Saab. Bechari, kitne pyar se padati thi. Every week traveling to Indore in her little bail tonga gaddi, apni fraak pehen ke. Dil itna mulayam, baat baat par ro de.

....That time when she had found Miss Saab crying at night when she slept in her room....Next morning Miss Saab had called them to her room, with puffy eyes told them what was bothering her. The boys had told her that the girls were found going into a man's room. How shocked she had been, all because the boys reported that some girls had gone into a man's room. Why? to get a some water for a child. Par angrez thi na, isliye kaan ki thodi kacchi!. We got scolded and the boys had their fun. Most of all Stephen, leader of the pack! What did he think? I would fall in love with him if he did these things?

But she had had her share of duping him after marriage. She chuckles, how much money she had given to people, who needed it. Always telling him that the money had been returned. Sometimes he would get their thumbprints or their land papers in return of the money. She would burn them and tell him they had paid back. Arre un logon ki dua hi to ab ham ko lag gayee, jo 90 saal mein jee rahein achhe khase. Keep us like this till we live... God! That’s all I ask. Stephen wasn’t a mean man either, he knew what I was upto. Just played along. Not a mean man, but a little less honest. Will always try a little lie when he can use truth.

That time when the jain sahukar had come to get his coat loosened! It was just starting summer. He had got a coat made the previous year, all the way from Indore. Stylish, just like the Saabs. Ready for next winter. Stepehn told him it would take a month, he let it hang on the nail, all that while. After a month the man came, having lost his winter weight. He tried the coat. It fitted well. Stephens stitching seemed better than the original, that’s what he said. Stephen beamed and charged him. "Arre uske pass bahut paisa hai". She didn’t know what to say. What could she do to such a man!

Manohar, where is Manohar? Why can’t he come with the milk. She is getting desperate for her tea now. These boys… I taught his father and his son, his father’s sister also. And this boy, cant he even get my milk on time. Why doesn’t Somti calf soon, then I will not need that idiotic boy.

The bulb dims and goes off. The lights have gone. Must be eight already, where are the girls? She looks at Stephen who is trying to get up to light the lamp.

“Stay where you are”, she says sharply. “I have it right beside me. If you fall I will have to manage you.”

“That’s right”, he laughs. “Now only us both for each other.”

She lights the lamp. Stephen’s face is showing his lines in the soft lamp light, it changes into a young face, she smiles, she sees him sitting in Miss Saab’s house stitching curtains.

The other girls, particularly one nurse, used to keep going to him, “To get clothes altered” “Alterations!” she snorts “Alterations, all right!” She had her eyes on him. Speaking in that snivelly voice, fluttering and blushing, telling him to tighten her blouse. Shameless! But I was smart, got his fathers moonh boli behen on my side. That worked the trick. I married him. She was a nice woman, this moonh boli sister. Had Korku blood in her, must have felt a kinship for my bhil blood. How much she made me work, God above knows.

Running her hands over the top of the doors, or the sankhal, “Soni yahan par safai nahin ki kya"

That dokri was really sharp....Like a knife. They had moved into this house with her. The lady was ailing, someone needed to look after her. And the neighbours were waiting to take over the house. But the house had been left to her. This house, her safety blanket. This house and Stephen...........ahh those days, Stephen walking her around the heart shaped lawn in the mission compound. Stephen slipping bangles on her hand, and....

She looks at Stephen, these days girls make so much of men helping in the kitchen, Stephen had always done this for her. On her way to school she would deposit the child with Stephen in a small tokri cradle. Stephen would tie the string to his machine paddle to it and the child would sleep swinging in jerks as Stephen stitched clothes for the hospital staff, or Miss Saab. How many frocks she would get stitched. Kabbhi aisa Kabhi waisa. Frills and lace. Jab bi apne desh jaati to leke aati. Phir theek wiasa silvati. Achi thi bechari.

Suddenly, sharply, she thinks, I have to call Kusum! And Allister…let me find out if they are coming for my birthday. The Ratlam people, I have to call all of them. God knows, if they get to know that I didn’t invite them, they'll feel bad. I will ask these girls to stay too......... 90 years. Do I want to live for more. Well may be a couple more.

Its getting late, where is Manohar. Should she call Babbi, he will grumble, but then she needs her tea. She hears footsteps and then voices. The girls have come back. Her elder daughter enters with them,

"Where were you both roaming? Your food is all cold. And the light has gone. Now eat in the dark."

"Arre bua why do you worry, why did you do all this.” They are looking at the food, puris and bhajjiyas.

“Kha lo, nahin to kya banati. Gilki li sabzi? Mujhe to bilkul bhi achchi nahin lagta. What do I like? All this and meat.

The daughter surveys the kitchen and says "Maa tum to inko khana khilao mein jara ho ke aati hoon."

Before Soni answers she has gone through the doorway, the darkness swallowing her. A little later they hear her Hero Honda Street start and Soni Bua knows she is gone.

"Arre yeh chori ko to kabhi chain nahin. Bahut kaam karti hai, school ke liye kuch bhi kara lo. Par ghar ka kaam, arre kuch nahin. Achha hi nahin lagta." she looks at the girls. “Mero ko pakana bahut accha lagta hai, gaanv ke sab log atte hain mujh se puchne ko - Bua tum yeh kaise banate ho woh kaise banate ho. Sab likh kar le jate hain. Par meri yeh do ladkiyan inko bilkul shouk nahin. Sochte honge agar kaam karenge to aur karaungi. In bachon ko to kaam bhi batao to chid choid karte hain.”

“Par yeh”, she looks to Stephen, “Yeh nahin karte. Inse hi sab kaam karvati hoon. Inko daant bhi deti hoon to chid chid nahin karte. Kabhi hamara jhagda nahin hua".

Stephen is laughing, “Arre yeh bahut tez hai, sabse jhagda. Par mein bhi woh malauna hoon jo pathar ko mom kar de.”

“Shut up, what are you saying in front of these girls. They will write everything, then you will know.”

Stephen is still laughing.

He does this just to get me angry, he loves to see me this way. And me.....i get angry just to hear him laugh. She smiles, but turns her face pretending to check on the water. Oof what will the girls think? these dokra dokri flirting with each other.

What did I know that these two eat meat, other wise I would have made pulav. Would have asked, but who knows what they would have thought. Buura mante to? I don’t even know their caste or religion. Dikhte to hindu hain, par shayad Iisai ho. Could be, they don’t wear tiklis. No laung in their nose either. But its changing these days, everyone eats everything. Even the brahmins. Some hide it and some don’t. That maharaj who we had called for Hemu's party. Made him make baati outside, while we cooked pulao hiding in our own kitchen. When he was ready to leave, he came and stood at the door. “Kyon Bua pulao bana hai kya? Thoda dabbe mein daal do to mein bhi chak loon”

“And what about your dharma?”

“Arre woh to mein naha lunga. Seench jayega.”

Every thing is adjustable these days. When I came here, they wouldn’t eat food touched by me. Issai log, meat eaters! Impure! And they? Pure indeed!

Arre mere haath ka khane ko to itne log aate hain. Yeh daktar log ki jab bhi picnic hoti, yah dawat hoti to mujhe khas bula kar le jaate the. Kitna pulav banaya. Sab shouk se khate the.

"Aab to mere saath khatam ho jayega, mere haat ka pulav."

“Arre tum sungo kaise banate hain”, she looks to the girls.

"Haan bua batao na”

Meat lena achcha, ek kilo

Khada dhaniya, lasan,pyaj, adrak,lasan, saunf – in sab ko imam daste menin koot lena

Put all of it in a small cloth bag, add haldi in it.

Boil the thaili with the meat. Meat accha ubal lena.

Once the meat is done, take out the thaili, and drain the stock in another bowl. Wash and sqeeze the masala thaili into this.

Put a deckhi on fire, and add ghee

Then put tej patta and onion.

When the onion is brown, add the meat in it and cook.

Then add washed rice, achha chawal lena, If you get basmati then use that. I know it is expensive, but one doesnt make pulao evry day does one?

You know how to cook rice? jitna chawal use dugna pani. For a glass of rice two glasses of water. Woh meat ka pani dal dena.

Once the rice is done, reduce the fire, and cover the rice. Put a few coals on top of the dekchi. Thoda dum dena.

Bahut achha lagta hai.

“How did I learn this, I dont know. The last principal, Miss Pannalal had asked me to cook for a picnic. She told me some and I added some. Then it became my recipe.

All my recipies were born like this. My Christmas sweets, I make kilos and kilos. Every house has to get some. They send their demands in November. This year I was making them till January. Didn’t I give you some, when you first visited?”

The girls nod. Their heads bent still writting. God knows what all they have written.

“Theek se likha hai na”, she says peering into the girls note book.

In the dim light of the lamp, maybe none of them can see what is being written. But it imprints into the mind like so many other things, in this time that the girls have spent with Soni Bua. Both will carry memories with them. Is this how history carries?

"Arre Bua andar aa jaon kya?" That’s Manohar from the door way.

She starts to add tea leaves to the boiling water.

"What you scoundrel, now you've come. How long I’ve been waiting."

"Arre Bua. I’ll get the milk only when the cow gives it."

"How come your cow is the only one in the town to give milk at midnight?"

"So no tea for me? And its raining outside. I am wet and cold. I need my tea"

"Sit, there is tea for you, not that you deserve any."

She watches Stephen fetch two more cups for the girls.

"Careful that you don’t drop them." Why do I always say that when he has never dropped anything. Stephen, what will I do when he goes, or he with out me. Will it happen that we go together? God, that’s all I ask of you.

The lamp is dimming. She should wind up the kitchen and move towards the inside room. Oil is getting so expensive these days. Kusum should be sending money soon. And the basmati she had asked for. She will make pulao for her birthday.

It rained continuously for the next two days. She was getting worried about her birthday. It is Thursday tomorrow and her birthday is on Sunday. “Hemu, give me your phone let me call Alistair and check. And the Ratlam people do you think they will be able to come? What to do?”

“Arre Ma why do you worry so much, I was telling the girls last night. No point in them waiting, in this rain we will not be able to celebrate. We will do it properly in September. Together with pappas birthday. Theek hai na yeh plan. Kal baat ho gayi bakiyon se, woh bhi is batt ko haan kar rahe hain”

“Yes yes. If you all have decided, What can i say.. She is turning into the other room.

Sitting on her bed on the verandah, looking at the school compound……Stephen feeding the cow .Two ninety year olds…

It is practical to do it this way …..karcha bhi kam aur sabko ek hi baar anna, un sab ko bhi to kaam hai.. Jaisa bhi manaye, mana lein.

Yeh hi akhari samjho, with my age every day can be the last. That choti was asking me what i wanted for my birthday, ill tell her, geheri gulabi saree.

Ek School Ka Ithihas Soni Bua ke Ankhon Se

Soni Bua ke Saath Ek School ka Ithihas

Haat Pipaliya is a small town, in Dewas district, Baghli Tehsil. This town is the home to a special school. There a many schools in the town, but this school is special. Why? Because it is one of the oldest schools in the tehsil that was specially opened for girls.

We learnt of this school from an equally special person Soni Bhiliya nee James, or Soni Bua as the town knows her now. She is 90 years old and has many things to tell us about the school and the town.

The school began in 1912, when a Canadian lady started to teach children under an Imly tree. In 1921, a room was built near the tree and the school shifted into it and regular classes began. It was meant to be a school specially for girls.

Says Soni Bua, “In those days people did not want to send girls to school. They were scared that their daughters would get spoilt if they sent them to school. They thought if the girls knew how to write they would write all their complaints about their 'sasurals' and send letters home. This was not considered good.”

People would send their boys to the school for admission but not girls, so they had to make a special effort to get girls to school. What were these efforts? They made a rule – A boy would get admission only if he was accompanied by a girl. Boys were asked to come to school with their sisters. If they didn't have sisters then they would have to bring any girl, a neighbour or someone they knew. Because the quality of education in the school was good people wanted to send their sons to be educated there and in keeping with the rule the girls also came along. This way the number of boys and girls in the school was always the same. Nice rule wasn't it? In this way the school started girls education in the town.

We spoke to some of the people of the town. One Gentleman told us that when he went to study, he didn't go with his sister, but with a girl who lived in his mohalla. They went together. He was really amused when he realized that it was because of this girl that he had got admission. He felt he should write to her and thank her. But where he would find her, he didn't know. She had got married. It is sad that girls always have to leave their homes when they get married.”

The school also encouraged Dalit children, who in those times (and even now, though untouchability is prohibited by our constitution) were considered untouchable, to come to school. A special person was appointed to go house to house and get these children to school. Soon their number grew and the upper caste people started to worry. They did not want their children to study with these children. So they sent an application to the school, asking the teachers to stop teaching these children. If this didn't happen, they threatened to take their children out. What do you think the school did?

They said, “Take your children away if you want, but we will not ask these children to leave. We will educate all children irrespective of their caste.”

Some of the upper caste people took out their children. And the school continued with its teaching. Soon those parents realized that by removing their children, the loss was theirs. And within a short time they sent their children back to the same school. This was a big step.

Soni bua tells us, “Once in the school, children themselves never practiced “chu a chaat”. They ate together, studied, played and drank water from the same tap, without much difference. This was a major change. At homes the children may be taught the difference between castes. But we never, allowed that in school. In school we made children behave as equals”

A teacher in the school, whose father was one of the Dalit students from that school told us that by taking such a stand the school had supported them. “It inspired us to study, and because my grand father, my Bua and then my father studied here. I could study too. This started the trend of education in our family.”

What do you think of this, wasn't it a correct and bold stand to take in those times?

Soni Bua tells, "In that period people practiced many taboos, women in villages were not allowed to study, Dalit women could not even walk on the road, with their shoes on. They had to remove them and walk! Dalit children would be made to sit in separate rows, and not allowed to drink from the same water pot. Many children, did not go to school because of the humiliation that they had to face."

In Independent India all government schools have to admit students of all castes and religions. Teachers are not supposed to practice any form of discrimination with any child.

Look around you and see if you still see such differences. In what ways? What do you think we can do to eliminate such discriminations?

The school after 94 years, is still running. It is a middle school now. The school has four rooms and a hall. Unfortunately the historic Imly tree, under which it all started, had to be cut down because it had become weak and there was a danger of it falling. The number of girls and boys is still equal and children of all castes and religions study here. The school tries to keep the fees low, so as to accommodate all children.

Over the years many schools have opened in Haat Piplalya. There are over 30 schools there, some Government and some Private, but this school has a special place in history.

Now lets talk about the other historical figure of the town. Soni Bua.

Soni bua, whose name was Soni Bhiliya, came to the Haat Pipaliya at the age of 20, in the year 1936. She came here to teach all the way from Ratlam. She came to Haat Pipaliya after passing her class six and also completing a two year teachers training in Indore. The training was called the Anglo Vernacular training. There, she learnt three languages, Hindi Urdu and English. She started to teach in the school. She has many stories to tell.

“When I came here, this town was mostly forest, no roads, no buses and no electricity. It has changed so much now. There are so many shops, pucca roads, and telephones, even mobile phones. Earlier people travelled by tonga gaddi or walked to other places. To get things like soap we would have to ask people to get them from Indore. There was a travelling salesman who would bring us these things.”

In those days, Victoria coins were used as money, not rupees and notes as we do now. She tells us about how Victoria coins were checked to find out if they were real or jalli. The coin would be struck against stone. If it rang out clearly it was real. If the coin made a dull sound, it meant that it was mixed with some other metal and not pure. Thats the way they tested it, whenever they got one. Isn't this an interesting fact.

How do people check notes now? Can you find out. Also check with your grand parents if any of them have Victoria coins.

(picture of the coin)

Soni Bua knows most of the town people by name, “I taught that one’s father and bua, even his grandfather and grand bua”, she says as she points out people passing by or dropping into her house.

She can tell you what happened in which year, and what the eminent people in town did while they studied under her “That one was naughty, that one was very sincere and that one was very shy”, and so on. Many of her girl students of the younger generation are nurses and teachers.

When she first came here, there was only one government school, and the mission school. Later a Jain school also opened. Then many more schools. Now of course there are so many. Haat Pipaliya also has a Junior college and a Graduate level college now.

Her students live in the town and do various things, many of them have left town and are working elsewhere. Most of the girl students however are not in town. They left after they got married.

We met one such older student who had come visiting her brothers’ house. She lives in a town nearby and is a grandmother now. Though she couldn't study beyond fifth (as the school was only upto primary then), she feels that getting an education has helped her in many ways. She has seen to it that her daughter’s went to school and studied as much as they could. “Times are changing and gradually people see girls education differently. It not like before. Now girls don't just study, parents are keen that they study enough so that they may get a job.”

Can you record the changes in the past years. How is the town different from five years back? Or ten? Some of these changes you can record yourself. You can even ask your parents to tell you about these. And better still, if your grandparents are with you, wouldn't it be nice to listen to their stories? This way you could record your own village or towns history. Our histories are all around us. They are not only facts about kings and wars, or of places far from us.

Now getting back to Soni Bua. She has an interesting tale to tell about herself. As we read earlier, when she came here she had studied till standard 6^th. Later, when the foreigners went back, and education advanced, teachers needed to be more educated. So 1965 or 1966, she sat for her class 11 exam. Can you calculate how old she must be then?

She studied on her own and prepared for the exam. On the examination day, she sat among students so much younger than her, students who she had taught. Must not that have been a funny sight?

The students, because they loved her, tried to help her, by throwing chits to her with answers written on them. The examiners too, decided to look the other way, because they all wanted Bua to pass. But Bua refused to cheat. She did not want to set a bad example nor did she want any one to say later that she had passed because of anyone’s help. So she ignored the chits and wrote her exams. And yes, she passed. She laughs when she tells this story. She recalls it with affection and pride! .

She says that the Mission school had a rule about admission. Only children above the age of six would be taken. But in those days, there were few records that people could check age from. So the teachers used a unique method. They would ask the child to catch her or his left ear with their right hand over their heads (not from behind their necks, or from the front of their faces but over their heads!). Only children who are six years old or above can catch their ear from over their heads. So any child who whose age they doubted, had to pass the test of catching her or his ears.

Try to this test on any of the children you know. See if it works.

Soni Bua’s style of teaching is also remembered by all, She tells us of the many interesting ways she had devised to teach her students. She would cut out strings of words and phrases, that were a part of a larger sentence and stick them on separate cards. The students would then have to piece them together to make a full sentence. For example –

Kali jaise maina ne,

kaali jaise maina boli

ek dana paya

woh jow ka dana tha

Then the students would have to match these fragments and make them into a sentence according to what was in their text book.

She had a box full of such aids that she used. It had colourful cards and pictures that she made to teach.

She taught in the school for 47 years. She retired as the Principal of the school, the first local woman to be so.

She tells us that she has forgotten her Urdu, because they don't teach it in the schools of Haat Pipaliya any more. But she is proud that she knew that language.

“It is an interesting language.” she says, “The script is different, it is written from the right hand side of the slate or the page (opposite from the way we write Hindi or English).”

Jatte jaate,… Soni Bua has a fondness for chutkule and shero shayari, some call it katte bazzi. So here are two from her-

Pyas na janne dhobi ghaat (Thirst does not care whether the water is from a washer man's ghaat)

Bhook na janne jhoota bhaat (Hunger does not care if the rice is someone else's half eaten food)

Neend na jaane tooti khaat (sleep does not care if the bed is broken)

Pyar na jaane jatam paath (Love does not care for caste and creed)

She also has a special fondness for food, both cooking and eating, so there had to be one on food, in the special context for those in Malwa-

Baatti kahe mein awan jawan ( Batti, says eat me and you can go wherever and come back)

Roti kahe mein khet phuchawan (Roti says eat me and ill get you till your field)

Chawal kahe mein naram khana (Chawal says i am soft food)

Mere bharose gaon mat jaana (Don't try to get to the next village only by me)

Facts about the town:

It is a flourishing tradind town of Baghli tehsil and lies about 14 Kms from the tehsil Head Quaters and 45 kilometers from Dewas to its south east.

The Indore- Khate gaon-Harda road branches of at chapra village. One branch goes upto bagli town and the other to Haat pipaliya. Regular private buses ply on these roads.

The town has a govt primary school, one middle and high school for boys and one middle and high school for girls.

There is a mission hopital, and one govt Primary health care center (PHC)

The weekly market day is – Wednesday.

For some pictures of Soni James , her family and town please see this linkhttp://imlytree.gfoto.com

Of politics, ideology, economics and education

This posting elaborates on the evolving education and political scenario in the town of Haat Pipaliya and reflects on issues that have influenced it over at least three generations. These reflections have been drawn from an interview with a family in which we get to speak to three generations . It gives a context of the change in people's access and perception of education in the town from the difficult times of the grandfather to the time where the options of education for the oldest and youngest grand daughters are being discussed.

We interviewed Prakash G (name changed) and his family because we had been told that he was one of the first Dalits in the town to get an education. Soni Bua had taught him and his older two sons in the mission school.

Prakash G had also been a Parshad of the Nagar Palika twice. “I've been involved in some political process or the other since I was a child. During the India movement, there was a big procession here, I joined in and that was my entry into politics. Since then I have been with the Congress.”

Rajendra (name changed), the oldest son is also involved in politics but leans towards the BSP. “I am one with Ambedkar’s teachings”, he says. “Our party is not strong but it is strong enough to make a candidate lose even if we can’t win. When I hear my father’s story and the treatment he underwent for being of a particular caste, it makes me feel angry. It makes we want to do something about it. That is why I am with the BSP.”

"Their party is too harsh". The father interjects. “Some of their slogans are too strong, they cause hurt. One must work to change things but always without violence even in words and thoughts. Joote, chappal marne ki baat kyon karni?” The son laughs "Arre tab woh slogan us samay ke liye theek tha.” .

Ajit (name changed), the youngest son says that he is away from politics. He was a part of a Kabir Manch, a group of kabir bhajan singers and musicians, which are a part of popular secular folk tradition in the Malwa region. But now along with his singing he is studying to clear the UPSC exam. He is planning to leave for Delhi with a group of friends to prepare for the tests. "I don’t know what I can do here. I have studied in Indore and now I feel that going to Delhi will help. I like this place it is my home but one has to move out to grow.” With regard to going to a bigger unfamiliar place he adds, “Since I have lived in Indore, I won’t feel in awe of Delhi, I feel I will be able to manage there. I want to pass my exams this time.”

Last time he had cleared the prelims of the state administrative exams, but couldn’t make it in the finals. “Two of my papers didn’t go very well”, he says. “So I’ll just have to work harder this time. I have heard Kota, Allahabad and Delhi are good for preparing for competitive exams. That is why I’m planning to go to Delhi. Delhi is the best.”

Rajendra begins to tell us about his family. "My father got educated by an Englishman, who had in a sense adopted him as far as his education was concerned. Then he educated us - all his sons. We had two sisters after me. My father never educated them and they never went to school. They got married early. Why my father never educated them, I never asked. Only he will be able to tell you that."

When Rajendra said he went to the mission school, I immediately asked him if he had to take a girl along. "Why?" he asks back. I told him that I had heard that there was a rule in the school, that boys got admission only if they were accompanied by a girl. “Was it so?” he asks. “I don’t remember, but I do know that there was a girl here of our neighbourhood who I went to school with… It may be possible that I got admission with her. I can’t say. We will have to ask my father." He continues trying to remember, “I know that I started school with her and we used to go together. Now she is married. She left school after fourth or fifth class,"

Rajendra's father Prakash talks of his experiences of studying in the government school. “In the early 20's they never even allowed us to sit on the tatpatti”, he states. “Pani bhi upar se pilate the. All our clothes used to get wet as the water dripped down our elbows and arms. It was humiliating"

"I left school because I couldn’t take the discrimination. Then I went to the mission school, but I couldn’t adjust there too so I left it. Then this person from the mission hospital whose house I used to go to do some small work began to teach me. That’s how I learnt to read and write. Soon I started working in the mission hospital as a ward boy and worked there for the rest of my life. I retired a few years back."

"I sent my children to study in the mission school and then to the government school. I wanted that they get all that they could. They haven’t seen the times that I saw.” he continues as he talks of the discrimination. “They have not experienced the peeda that I went through. They know nothing of it. The times and this town have also changed so much since our times. First electricity came and then vehicles became common and now see what all has come”, he says looking at his sons.

I asked why his daughters didn’t go to school. He smiles and says, "I knew you will ask why, but in those times it wasn’t so common and we didn't think about these things so much. The social outlook was different then. Even when I married my elder son, I got an uneducated daughter in law, thinking that educated women would have airs and would not be able to run the house. But now I know differently. My two other daughters in law are educated and I don’t find any difference in their affection for us. You see we too are learning." He smiles.

His son adds, “But my elder sister's daughters are studying. One has done her B.Sc and is 20 years old now, but we are not pushing her into marriage. We will wait for a suitable match to come by, till then she can study and get her qualifications.”

The eldest son has lots to say about his children’s education. It is a topic, which is close to him as he launches into the details of the choice of schools, their marks, quality of education etc. Interestingly his children did not go to the mission school. “The standard of education in the mission school has gone down especially after the mission stopped supporting it and Soni bua left”, he says. “I am interested in the quality of the education that the school gives. I keep checking on it and change my children’s school every two years if I have to. If I find that it is not up to the mark or is not suiting their requirements. If I feel the quality is going down and there is a better school then I send my children there". The fact that there are so many schools in the town and many more are opening up providing different facilities, this is not difficult. "My daughter is in 12th now" he continues, “and has changed schools three times. First she was in a school that had good primary education. Then in 11th and 12th I realised that the Patidaar school students were getting better results, so I put her there after trying the Jain school. “Private school fees is high, but finally thats what all parents would want to put everything into, their children's education.”

Rajendra relates of an incident, “my daughter almost failed in her 8th maths exam. i went to the best tutor in in out town. he refused to take her on, even though i knew him, "i don't take weak students, if she is scoring poorly in maths then she probably does not have the aptitude for maths." he said. My question was- but isn't it the weak that need for effort?. but he still refused. Then i went and sought out his competitor. A teacher form his school. two years later in her boards this girl has got 90% marks. All these schools are getting very choosy, they want to take only the top students. they have cut offs for marks. so that they can get best results. The govt school results are not so good, they have to take every one."

"After this I will send her to college and make her do her BA in English literature. Now she has science with Maths. That way she will be proficient in the two subjects that have the most demand - English and Maths”, he observes. “She can get a government job or even take tuitions. We have thought of all these things so that her future is secure”, he concludes.

The discussion then turned to the religious and caste affiliations of various schools, in Haat Pipaliya . Do these affiliations affect the profile of the students in any way?.

“No”, said Rajendra. “When they started the communities felt that they would cater to the students of that community. But now they are identified a as community school only y name and that too after the trust which runs it rather than by the profile of the students who attended the school. The mission school had children from all castes. The higher castes sent their children there at that time because it gave good education. They allowed for their children to study with Dalit children there, because the standard was good. And now we too choose schools for our children on the same criteria.”

“And I must say another thing about the mission school”, he adds. “Even though it was run by the missionaries, Christian people and they had a Christian prayer, that was all that the religious influence amounted to. Other than that there was nothing about the environment that hinted at conversion. It was like any other school.”

“The other important thing was that they stuck to keeping Dalit children even if there may have been pressure to do otherwise. They kept that as their focus and made the other caste children study with them”, he states.

But such a stress or focus doesn't exist now does it? " No and it can be because stress on it may not be needed with the same intensity, considering that almost all families dalit and otherwise send their children to school."

His youngest son goes to Saraswati Sishu Mandir, a school associated with the RSS. "My son goes there, my daughter also used to go there, but now she is in the Paatidar school because as I mentioned earlier 11th and 12th are better there", he repeats. "I am very happy with my sons education in Sishu Mandir. I am interested in the quality of education and don’t care about the ideology. That we will take care of at home", he says. "As long as they don’t make him wear half pants and join rallies and shakha meetings, I am ok with the school. I know that they make them recite shlokas in school before eating. But he doesn’t do that at home, nor does he show any other signs of indoctrination into their ideology", he states matter of factly. "I felt the same for the mission school. They make you sing Christian prayers in school. But there is no other pressure on the children to convert.” He pauses a bit and says, “My problem with the RSS is that they start protesting about banning schools with any other religious affiliations. There is no need for them to politicise this. They use such things to target other religions and that is wrong”, he asserts.

He points to his 3-year-old niece, his brother’s daughter and continues, “I will always choose according to what is good for the child. For her we will try the new school, St Johns. ( being run by Roman Catholic Brothers). Now we will try the father logon ka school. If the standard is good then we will keep her there or change to a better school like we did for the others." “but i have to say one thing. There is a big difference between the way we were taught and now days." better or worse? I ask " better, the basic education was so good, the reading or writing that i learned then, these children dont learn like that. What Soni Bua taught us, the way she and the others used aids to teach us. I dont see that in any of their schools now. "

The kind of calculated interest that he takes in his children’s education stands out. He feels that at this stage there is not much difference in the kind of encouragement that his daughter gets for her education compared to his sons. He does agree that later in life girls do get restricted in their education according to the adjustments they have to make as per the norms of the family they marry into. But he sees it as an eventuality and says that they would have to manage the loss of freedom if any and adjust to the new environment. There is no choice in that , he admits, so they might be at a disadvantage.

He tells us proudly that his daughter who would be giving her 11^th class exam shortly is the first girl of their caste to have studied this much.

I wonder if she feels a sense of pride. She shakes her head and says, “I feel glad I can study. Today all girls study.” She doesn’t see it as a big privilege. Her aunts who belong to Indore and have come into the house after marriage are also educated. “My mother hasn’t studied,” Malti (name changed) states. “But since her children and other sisters in law are all educated. She has picked up a lot.” Says Rajendra. "Now our mother even though not educated at all understands English words also. We try to use English to keep things from here, but nowadays she catches us out,” says Malti with a tinge of pride in her voice.

Through these conversations, it became apparent that the forms of discrimination in education may have changed in relation to gender and caste, but they continue to exist in forms more subtle. There is a certain blindness to the marginalisation of these groups that seems to have developed over time. Since discrimination was defined in more severe and visible forms (as untouchability or restricted access to spaces) in memory, its subtler but equally restrictive forms are missed. The reality, which encompassed these forms of discrimination, is seen as a historical occurrence, which may have carried over as muted anger, which needs to be dealt with in political expression rather than in everyday living.

The sons, who have not faced extreme discrimination, still feel strongly about the oppression of the father and look to more vocal and radical ideas and expression against it, while the father himself talks of softer methods of fighting discrimination. Separate organizing also points towards the growth of dalit mobilising in haat pippaliya.

There has also been a co-option of ideology – political and social in the stands that are taken by the institutions we have begun to explore in these discussion. Saraswati Shishu Mandir, provides a good example. Looking at he profile of their students and teachers, one finds that they include Dalits and people of different religions, though they may have started out with a more exclusive agenda. However, though these seem contradictory to its ideology, they exist as parallels imparting to it a complex character that allows them to blend into their environments and gain from it but also retaining the potential to revert back to its original form when required. As Rajendra points out, they (the RSS) would actively call for the banning of schools with other religious affiliation when the need arose. The school infrastructure is used for RSS meetings and activities. But if it is done with out interfering with the school timings and teaching, the parents have no complaints.

For the parents, education and the institution to which they send the children is largely governed by two factors- affordibilty and the quality of education ( “results” was often used interchangeably). This is brought out well by Rajendra “ i will do what is best for my children, our aim is to see that they get a base from which to reach as far as they can.” I don't agree with the RSS ideology but if their school gives good education, then i will send my children there. As long as the school doesn't discriminate against them actively.” This kind of compromise or split in ideology brings out clearly how education is mainly looked as a profession with clear parameters for quality and purpose, namely results and the opportunities that it gives to children. This works both ways for parents as well as institutions. But institutions will always as mentioned above, will always have the choice of reverting back to a stand when the choose, or soften their stand.

None of the private schools, focused specifically on education for dalit or girl children, not even the mission school. Though it had started out with that vision six decades ago. While it was mentioned in the above interview as well as several times in other conversations that we had with various people, that a special focus is not needed in these times, the fact that Malti is the first girl of the neighborhood to have studied till 11^th, hints otherwise. It is only in government schools, that there are schemes that encourage girls and dalit children to come to school. Where teachers have a target in getting children to school. And it is here that one has to see their importance of policy. The only two exclusively girls schools are government schools. All the private schools are co-educational, and for them the need would be to have more children enrolled in their school, dalit or girls. As long as they bring in their fees.

Education in Haat Pipaliya

Here is a sketchy bit about the schools in the town, and their inter-linkage with community and caste politics. Besides touching on caste inter-linkages themselves, the discussion also reflects the change in the way people perceive education and how issues of access have changed.

The town now has over 25 schools - five government and the rest private. Three schools are exclusively for girls and the others are co-educational. Many of the earlier schools were based on community affiliations like the Jain school, the Patidaar school etc. A new one called Sraswati Sishu Mandir, run by the local RSS branch has recently been added to the list. The mission school, which is the oldest private school and had a special focus on girls and dalit children is called the "massih logon ka school". But over the years the profile of students in all the schools has changed and become a heterogonous mix of communities primarily guided by ‘quality’ (read economics). The names of the institutions come from the trusts that run them rather than the student profile.

"They are like all other private schools. If they are good and people can afford the fees then they will send their children there. When Saraswati Sishu Mandir started, we were told that they took only hindu students, no dalits, muslim or christians. But now they can’t even afford to have an all hindu staff. 80% of their teachers are dalit. With the kind of remuneration that private schools give, they cannot afford to be choosy in staff, so now its open for all children." Schools are about education and about economics of running it. Ideology doesn’t have much of a role to play in it. You have to get good results, so that parents are willing to pay the high fees that the school charges and one also has to pay teachers so that they stay. Where is the role of politics here? It doesn’t work" (as said by two government school teachers and two teachers who run their own private schools.)

There are two junior colleges in the town, which have allowed for more girls to be able to enroll. Even though the present ratio of girls in college is just about 1/4^th, Hemalata James, the principal of the girls middle school tells us, "From all the girls that pass out from my school only 50% go to high school, and from them only about 25% will go to college. Amongst them too, if they get a job after 12th, they drop out. But still its an improvement. In ‘69 when I went to this college we were only four girls."

"A lot has changed”, she says. “But many things have remained the same. Even today the most common job option for girls is teaching. Or may be some may try for nursing. Its so because the courses are not so expensive and one can do them after 12th.”

"The change”, she says “has come about in the number of girls getting into such work and the boys are aspiring for higher levels. While the girls are going to college here, families try to send their boys to Indore."

It is apparent that ideology, social position, access and financial considerations have a role to play in the process of acquiring education though the priority given to each is different in different capsules of time and are determined by the common and prevalent social aspirations for boys and girls.

linking posts

While my study is progressing well, I feel a certain sense of diffidence in putting up a posting when my own understanding of the study and what will come out of it is slowly evolving and things seem too "in parts" to put up. I keep wondering what will anyone make out of one odd transcribed interview. Since narratives don’t always flow from beginning to end, ‘Somewhere in the middle’ seems to be a strange point to introduce an issue.

My study involves looking at girl’s education in Haat Pipaliya town though a biographic narrative of Soni Bua or James madam as she is known. This to be placed in the context of the town and the changes that it has gone through.

This process of interaction has taught me many things. One, that the past is not always easy to get out neutrally. Its always coloured by the present and the present always overwhelms. One has to keep nudging oneself and the people one is talking to, to look back. There is always so much in the present to talk about. While I transcribe my interviews this becomes very apparent. (The only persons who are comfortable with the past are Soni bua, (the 90 year old protagonist of the study), and her husband.

Second, how difficult it is to reach women. With Soni James and her family its been easy. Her family has a strong army of women who work. One of her daughters is the principal of the govt. girls school and the other is the principal of the mission school and its easy to trace their educational and work lives. But even through them the next sources of information about the town and its educational institutions are always men. (through them we try to trace girls education!). My tape recording of conversations with people around town are full of male voices…gate keepers!

Another question that keeps coming up - when one is trying to trace something that is common to a whole town, one is never quite sure when the information is completely verified. Different groups have different versions. There are things about the school that I had learnt in my earlier interactions in the town that had attracted me, made me take up the study. But apart from my earlier sources I find very little public memory to bring out those facts. That is a finding but it also breaks my easy preconceived charting of a narrative. I guess thats the difference between documentation and research. To understand, what the school and its values, meant to the town in the past; the kind of impact it had and what it means to the town now, is a very non linear narrative.

Tracing the History of Girl's Education (since 1921) in a Small Town through the life of its first Woman Teacher

Haat Pipaliya is a small town in the Dewas (Malwa region) district of Madhya Pradesh. The verbal history of Dewas accords the town a special status as being the home of the oldest girls school and names its oldest surviving teacher – Mrs Soni James (more commonly known as “Bua” to the town people), as a legend in herself. She continues to live in the town at the age of 90 years. A small chance meeting with her, where she narrated small anecdotes about her school, her own interaction with others in the town, small glimpses of her own life told us, that an account of her life in this town and in her school, is not simply a story of herself but will reveal the history of the town, of girls education, and that of education of Dalit children. It becomes difficult to distinguish if she speaks about herself, or events that shaped the history of a little known town, or of the challenges of bringing dalit and other girls into the school. She leans over and conspiratorially discusses all the strategies she employed to “lure” the communities to send their children to the baithak under the imly tree and later to the little kuchcha one room school. She frowns as she sinks into the memories of social distances, untouchability, the value of education and gender imbalances, and slowly recounts the history of these in the small town, a space which comprised the entire world to its residents, over almost a century. It was a biography that had to be written. Her life history would reflect her context, the journey of her school and the town that she has lived in for almost 70 years. This study attempts to look at three lives – the life of the teacher and through it the life of the school, and the life of the town. All these lives and their biographies are closely intertwined, each covering a journey through time from 1921 to 2006 - a time that saw the country's independence, urbanization, popularization and the commercialization of education and changing gender and caste relations among many other macro and micro processes.

James Madam The journey of her life will be documented from the time she came into the town as a young 20 year old semi educated tribal Christian teacher, her experience of teaching, educating herself, her marriage to a tailor, the town pastors son, settling into a new family, a new town and region, her interaction with the town and its people town and her experience of caste and gender taboos. The narrative will capture her life till the present times, where she lives at the age of 90 behind her school.
Method: A detailed interview will be used to capture James madam's biography and supplemented by interviews with her family, old students and residents of the town, of different generations. These will be recorded as their oral narrative on tapes, with photographs and illustrations of all our interactions with her as well of old photographs or pictures that can be found with her or others.

The School Exploring the founding visions of the school, recording the growth and change which occurred in it over time. The many generations of students that have passed through its rooms, what accounts can be found of them, through their teacher and of their teacher through them. At that time it was the only school now there are more than ten other primary and middle schools, some government, some schools with specific community affiliations and some private schools. How have all these other changes impacted the outlook towards education and particularly girls education
Method : Profiling the school -In the present context, where does the school stand in relation to its counterparts. What is the profile of the students and teachers today and how does it compare with the profiles of the other schools. In what way do the present attitudes of people about caste and gender, reflect its heritage ( of being home to the districts oldest girls, mixed caste school) and how does the town perceive it today. A mix of open ended interviews and narratives will be documented and transcribed.

The Town Located in the Malwa region, in the tribal Bagli bock, the town evolved from a small “ kasba” into one of the most flourishing towns of Bagli tehsil.
Method The history of the town will be built to reflect the changes demographic, geographic, economic and social. It will look at the the process of commercialization, urbanization, other settlers, expansion of the town, changing occupations and livelihood patterns. This will be based on secondary data and old census and town records of the town and oral accounts.