Napoleon Goes to Afghanistan
Dr. Dev Prakash Sharma is a picture of erudition. He is really gifted. From schooldays he has been a keen debater with a rare gift of mixing up his arguments with Urdu couplets and coming up with a heady concoction that never misses the judges’ commendations. Today too, he is one of the most powerful management council members of the University and one who can simply demolish the opponent’s citadel with the torrent of arguments that pour out spontaneously from his mouth. He is probably the most knowledgeable as far as the University law is concerned and can quote the section, sub-section etc. of the law that applies to a given point. He is also a public speaker in great demand. Numerous inauguration ceremonies cannot be called complete till he has spoken. He gets admiring glances from one and all – “how do you read so much and keep up to date with all branches of knowledge with the kind of busy schedule that you keep?” is often the gushy question asked by members of the audience. Obviously he loves to hear the question and his standard response is a smile that somehow projects his modesty and humbleness.
This bunch of young lecturers gets a bit suspicious about his knowledge. “The guy simply concocts facts,” says one over a cup of tea.
“I think you are right,” agrees the other. “Last time that I listened to him, he spoke about Napoleon. Now I am a Napoleon buff and do not remember having ever read what he had to say.”
“But that you did not read it does not mean that it is untrue,” disagrees the third. “After all, he is very well read. Everyone says so.”
The first two look at each other. The first one speaks again. “I too have my own things to add. I have heard him speak several times on the topic that interests me. Several times he has had to say things that actually went contrary to whatever I know of the subject. I am more or less sure that he conjures things up. And since no one has ever heard about these and since he keeps saying that this information has come up very recently, everyone gets impressed by his erudition and the desire in him to learn new things inspite of the busy schedule. Also, since the information is recent and since most people are internet illiterates, no one has any way to cross check. I looked up the internet about what he said and found nothing.” The guy got tired after the long tirade and took a quick sip from his now lukewarm tea.
“Even if you are right, which I doubt, it is of no use just making allegations. Who is going to believe you? Least of all I.” says the dissenter.
The two allegers now get their heads together. A plan is invented to nail the truth about Mr. Dev Prakash Sharma. They tell the dissenter about the plan and tell him that it will be implemented the next time the guy speaks.
“But what if he speaks on a subject alien to you,” the dissenter expresses his doubt.
“It does not matter. The plan goes ahead even with that eventuality. And it actually does not matter what he speaks about. Think about it and you will understand.” The allegers are obviously enthusiastic.
“I doubt you will succeed. I think Dr. Sharma is knowledgeable and it is your goose that is going to be cooked. And to think of the deviousness of the plan. Why? There is one person in this University who cares about knowledge and he has to deal with devious people like you. No. Its your plan that is going to come unstuck.”
“Let’s have a bet then. Dr. Sharma’s win is your win. If you win, we give you a treat, if you lose, you give us one,” the allegers are confident.
“That’s unfair,” protests the dissenter. “You two together give a treat if you lose and I give it alone to you two if I lose. No way.”
The deal is struck moments later. If the dissenter wins, he gets treated twice. If the allegers win, they get treated once. The game is on.
Dr. Dev Prakash Sharma arrives to speak as a resource person in an orientation course for young lecturers. He is speaking about Napoleon again. The allegers and the dissenter exchange quick glances; as per the plan, they are sitting far apart from each other in the audience. There is again new information about napoleon that he proffers this one different from his previous lecture. The guy, it seems keeps reading all the time! It also seems that most historians are so worked up about Napoleon that they keep uncovering new information about him at a rate that even Napoleon couldn’t create.
The lecture ends. The allegers move for the kill.
“Sir,” says alleger number one, “In a very recent article that has been published in the Journal of Asiatic Studies, it has been brought to light that Napoleon in fact traveled to Afghanistan to learn the methods of torture from the tribal people there. I wanted to know from you whether you think Napoleon was sadistic.” The alleger sits down.
“Sir, before you answer,” interjects the second alleger from another row across the room, “I just wanted to say that I too have chanced across that recent article, but my colleague here is slightly off the mark. Napoleon traveled to a province that is today at the border of Iran and Afghanistan and not Afghanistan itself. But I do not think that was sadism. It was just good learning about how to make spies speak.” The second alleger sits down.
Mr. Dev Prakash Sharma looks at both the allegers and the audience in general. His face is beaming. He speaks.
“This is lovely,” he gushes. “This is what I have always been talking about and have cherished all my life. Youngsters such as these keeping abreast of the recent most happenings in their fields. These are the kind of people that make a University go ahead.”
He pauses for effect, beams commendatory smiles at both allegers and then starts again, “I too have chanced upon that article and in fact was lucky to read it. It does appear from it that Napoleon did indeed come to Afghanistan and ……………”
In the evening, the dissenter is treating the two allegers and shaking his head in disbelief and the pain of needless lightening of his pocket. The plan was deviously simple. There was no such article and napoleon never went to Afghanistan. It was just a bait to see whether Dr. Sharma swallowed it. He did and proved that most of his “recent informations” were actually the result of his culinary skills.
Deviousness has its fruits of course and the two allegers were enjoying it that evening. And Dr. Sharma should know better because he has been enjoying the academic and intangible fruits of deviousness all along.
Showing posts with label Indian Academics. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Indian Academics. Show all posts
Monday, September 3, 2007
Sunday, September 2, 2007
SCENES FROM THE INDIAN ACADEMICA: V
Kalu Sir
I am conducting a practical and the students are busy peering through microscopes when I hear a voice immediately behind me.
`Is this the physics department?’
I turn back. A boy. Clad in denims and a T- shirt, a goggle hanging carelessly through one of the belt-loops, is looking at me.
`No. This is biochemistry.’
`But Kalu sir said this was physics,’ he insists.
`Kalu sir? Who is Kalu sir?’ Now this is perplexing. I have never heard of this teacher. And even if there is one, Kalu is usually a nick name or a diminutive that a student is not expected to know or utter. Well, at least not in front of another teacher.
`Ah…, now, you know, er…., the sweeper that we have…’
`The sweeper!’ Now that makes sense. There is indeed a sweeper by the name of Kalu. But it doesn’t make sense. The boy just now said `sir.’ Now you don’t call a sweeper, ` sir!’ Or do you? I should know better. I have heard, `Shukla sir,’ and Shukla is a lower division clerk. I have heard, `Arun sir,’ and Arun is a laboratory attendant. And that reminds me……
1983. I am a second year PG student . Vinay, a fellow student from microbiology department comes over and whispers, rather confidentially, ` You know Jyoti , that girl in first year? The one who is rather plain and haughty? Well, she must be shown her place!’
`Why? What did she do?’
`She called Ingle an attendant. Just like that. They were doing this experiment, see. Now she needs something, or probably doesn’t quite know how to handle this instrument. So she looks at Ingle and says, “ Hey, attendant! Come here please.” Now is that right ? I mean Ingle is an attendant. OK. But just because he is an attendant, does it give you the right to call him an attendant? I mean, should you , just like that, call him an attendant?’
Yeah. Right. Pithy question. Point to ponder. Do you call an attendant an attendant? If you don’t, then what do you call him?
I Know now. You call him `sir.’ As you would call a peon, `sir.’ As you would call a sweeper, `sir.’ As you have always called a teacher, `sir.’
The teachers don’t like it. There is talk in the staff room and it is clear that they are peeved. But all meaning in the debate is lost the moment they reach this consensus: punish the students, or, it’s moderate variant: tell the students they are doing it wrong, that `sir’ is an epithet reserved for the teachers only. Unknown to them, the students have got it absolutely right. It is the teachers who have got it wrong.
Erudition and knowledge separates teachers from non-teaching employees. This used to be the only pedestal which the teachers could climb and were respectfully called ‘sir’ for this reason. If they are now not interested in climbing this pedestal, or have trained their eyes on some other pedestal, the distinction between them and others withers.
The students are now referring to everyone elder to them and an employee of the college as ‘Sir.’ At least they are oblivious to any other difference between clerks and teachers and, now even between sweepers and teachers. Is there a difference?
I am conducting a practical and the students are busy peering through microscopes when I hear a voice immediately behind me.
`Is this the physics department?’
I turn back. A boy. Clad in denims and a T- shirt, a goggle hanging carelessly through one of the belt-loops, is looking at me.
`No. This is biochemistry.’
`But Kalu sir said this was physics,’ he insists.
`Kalu sir? Who is Kalu sir?’ Now this is perplexing. I have never heard of this teacher. And even if there is one, Kalu is usually a nick name or a diminutive that a student is not expected to know or utter. Well, at least not in front of another teacher.
`Ah…, now, you know, er…., the sweeper that we have…’
`The sweeper!’ Now that makes sense. There is indeed a sweeper by the name of Kalu. But it doesn’t make sense. The boy just now said `sir.’ Now you don’t call a sweeper, ` sir!’ Or do you? I should know better. I have heard, `Shukla sir,’ and Shukla is a lower division clerk. I have heard, `Arun sir,’ and Arun is a laboratory attendant. And that reminds me……
1983. I am a second year PG student . Vinay, a fellow student from microbiology department comes over and whispers, rather confidentially, ` You know Jyoti , that girl in first year? The one who is rather plain and haughty? Well, she must be shown her place!’
`Why? What did she do?’
`She called Ingle an attendant. Just like that. They were doing this experiment, see. Now she needs something, or probably doesn’t quite know how to handle this instrument. So she looks at Ingle and says, “ Hey, attendant! Come here please.” Now is that right ? I mean Ingle is an attendant. OK. But just because he is an attendant, does it give you the right to call him an attendant? I mean, should you , just like that, call him an attendant?’
Yeah. Right. Pithy question. Point to ponder. Do you call an attendant an attendant? If you don’t, then what do you call him?
I Know now. You call him `sir.’ As you would call a peon, `sir.’ As you would call a sweeper, `sir.’ As you have always called a teacher, `sir.’
The teachers don’t like it. There is talk in the staff room and it is clear that they are peeved. But all meaning in the debate is lost the moment they reach this consensus: punish the students, or, it’s moderate variant: tell the students they are doing it wrong, that `sir’ is an epithet reserved for the teachers only. Unknown to them, the students have got it absolutely right. It is the teachers who have got it wrong.
Erudition and knowledge separates teachers from non-teaching employees. This used to be the only pedestal which the teachers could climb and were respectfully called ‘sir’ for this reason. If they are now not interested in climbing this pedestal, or have trained their eyes on some other pedestal, the distinction between them and others withers.
The students are now referring to everyone elder to them and an employee of the college as ‘Sir.’ At least they are oblivious to any other difference between clerks and teachers and, now even between sweepers and teachers. Is there a difference?
Thursday, August 30, 2007
SCENES FROM THE INDIAN ACADEMICA: IV
The Super Ph.D.
Politics is the art of the possible. Look what becomes possible then, when the new VC is a purely political appointment. He feels slightly perturbed by the fact that he doesn’t have a Ph.D. His first move comes when a function is organised to felicitate his appointment.
“People say Meghe (his surname) is not a Ph.D.,” he pauses for effect here. Looks around like a lion surveying the jungle. “But Meghe is superPh.D. After all, he has known poverty!” Most teachers clap. For some these are words dripping with wisdom. For some others, it is a matter of etiquette. A leader delivers a punch-line. One has to clap.
The VC is now ensconced in his office. His next move comes quickly. It is in the form of a show-cause notice to all the heads of the departments and it packs more punch.
Are you in a position to certify that every single copy of all the journals that you receive in your department has been read completely by all the teachers and research scholars in the department? If not, show-cause why the subscription to these journals should not be stopped.
Etiquette also demands that every single letter of your leader be treated with respect and replied to even more respectfully, even if it may not deserve it. Most heads replied that it was neither possible nor desirable for every single member to read every single journal completely. They agreed that they were in no position to certify what the VC had demanded to be certified. They did not tell him that people read articles surrounding their interests in the journals and not the whole journals. They did not tell him that he did not know anything about research and as such should not bother others who did. Etiquette. Protocol. Respect for authority. All the virtues. All the virtues that clothe cowardice.
The VC allowed the subscriptions to lapse. The heads got into a huddle. But they had to be careful. There were some among them who were rumoured to be informers. There were no protests. The journals didn’t come. Research in all departments got crippled. And still there was no protest. We are great people. We do not give up our culture so easily. If our culture teaches us respect for authority, that is what the authority will get. It doesn’t matter in the least whether those in authority deserve it or not. Should it?
Cally
Another VC comes. This one is, physically also, very small. One only has to keep a flower vase in front of him to hide him completely from the audience in any function. Problems arise only when he rises to deliver the speech. Right now, he is reading a speech. The function is to mark the opening of a new department of biotechnology.
`The current decade belongs to biotechnology,’ he says reading the speech that, no doubt, has been prepared by someone else, ` and the next century will belong even more to this nascent field. It is my ardent hope that our country becomes biotechnology,’ here he turns the page, fumbles, and then continues, `cally rich.’ He goes on with the next sentence.
`Cally? What is cally?’ asks someone in the audience.
`He means “biotechnologically”. Only “cally” is on another page and the hyphen connecting it to “biotechnology” on the previous page. The idiot cannot connect it.” his friend advises.
That’s right. When there is a disconnect between academics and those governing academics, such pygmies rise and address the audience.
Politics is the art of the possible. Look what becomes possible then, when the new VC is a purely political appointment. He feels slightly perturbed by the fact that he doesn’t have a Ph.D. His first move comes when a function is organised to felicitate his appointment.
“People say Meghe (his surname) is not a Ph.D.,” he pauses for effect here. Looks around like a lion surveying the jungle. “But Meghe is superPh.D. After all, he has known poverty!” Most teachers clap. For some these are words dripping with wisdom. For some others, it is a matter of etiquette. A leader delivers a punch-line. One has to clap.
The VC is now ensconced in his office. His next move comes quickly. It is in the form of a show-cause notice to all the heads of the departments and it packs more punch.
Are you in a position to certify that every single copy of all the journals that you receive in your department has been read completely by all the teachers and research scholars in the department? If not, show-cause why the subscription to these journals should not be stopped.
Etiquette also demands that every single letter of your leader be treated with respect and replied to even more respectfully, even if it may not deserve it. Most heads replied that it was neither possible nor desirable for every single member to read every single journal completely. They agreed that they were in no position to certify what the VC had demanded to be certified. They did not tell him that people read articles surrounding their interests in the journals and not the whole journals. They did not tell him that he did not know anything about research and as such should not bother others who did. Etiquette. Protocol. Respect for authority. All the virtues. All the virtues that clothe cowardice.
The VC allowed the subscriptions to lapse. The heads got into a huddle. But they had to be careful. There were some among them who were rumoured to be informers. There were no protests. The journals didn’t come. Research in all departments got crippled. And still there was no protest. We are great people. We do not give up our culture so easily. If our culture teaches us respect for authority, that is what the authority will get. It doesn’t matter in the least whether those in authority deserve it or not. Should it?
Cally
Another VC comes. This one is, physically also, very small. One only has to keep a flower vase in front of him to hide him completely from the audience in any function. Problems arise only when he rises to deliver the speech. Right now, he is reading a speech. The function is to mark the opening of a new department of biotechnology.
`The current decade belongs to biotechnology,’ he says reading the speech that, no doubt, has been prepared by someone else, ` and the next century will belong even more to this nascent field. It is my ardent hope that our country becomes biotechnology,’ here he turns the page, fumbles, and then continues, `cally rich.’ He goes on with the next sentence.
`Cally? What is cally?’ asks someone in the audience.
`He means “biotechnologically”. Only “cally” is on another page and the hyphen connecting it to “biotechnology” on the previous page. The idiot cannot connect it.” his friend advises.
That’s right. When there is a disconnect between academics and those governing academics, such pygmies rise and address the audience.
Sunday, August 19, 2007
SCENES FROM THE INDIAN ACADEMIA: II
Lecturers do not indulge in research
Scene 1
Two lecturers are discussing how to fill up the `self-appraisal’ form. Filling of this application form was made compulsory by the University Grants Commission for the sake of promotions to higher scales.
“What to write under `publications?’”
“Did you publish anything last year?’
“No.”
“Neither did I.”
“Shall we leave it blank then?”
“No. Write NA.”
“NA…..um …Not applicable.”
“Yeah. That’s what you say when you have nothing to write under a given column.”
The two should have consulted other lecturers on how to fill up the column in question. The following is a sample of the items used by the others.
`Five letters to the editor.’ Details of the newspapers and the dates.
`Four letters to the editor. One more has been communicated and is under consideration.’
`Three stories.’ This entry belongs to a teacher of physics.
`Next year!’
Now, that is a promise.
Scene 2
A fellow lecturer comes back from the US after a year’s post-doctoral research. The following are the queries he faces from the other teachers.
“How many?”( In Hindi, `many’ can be masculine or feminine. Here, it was feminine.)
“You must have brought some Playboys and Penthouses. Yes?”
“An ipod you must have brought. What else?”
The poor fellow fields the questions as best as he can. Playboys and Penthouses, he has brought with him. In fact, they were the first things that he snatched from the bookstore, his curiosity being inflamed from years of hearing about these magazines. iPOD and other goods, well he has never had any interest in such things. As for “how many?”, his answer is a rueful shake of his head. Who knows he is telling the truth or not. But no one is ready to believe him. Even today, the Clintons and the Lewinskys only serve to emphasize the archetype of USA that is so deeply embedded in the mind of the average Indian. So when someone goes there to do research, it is very difficult for us to believe that he is going to do research.
The poor fellow gets away from the clutches of these gentlemen and heads towards his own department where a lady teacher is sitting at the table. Her bulk makes obvious what her priorities in life are.
“What did they give you to eat there?’ she asks. And this is the only question she will ever ask of him in all their years together!
Ph.D. is the end of research
An overheard conversation between two teachers
“Oh. You are still doing research? I thought you had done Ph.D. Long back.”
Not all the teachers are like these. Some read enough to stay abreast of the latest developments in their fields. Some actually apply for grants and do research. You can easily find out from the staff room talks who these few people are. They take part in the normal bonhomie for a few moments and then, as if by some magnetism, huddle together ignoring the raucous talk bubbles all around them. Often they talk of some interesting development. More often though, they criticise the state of education and the lack of seriousness and the time-serving attitude of their fellow teachers. Quite a few of these will fall by the wayside in the next few years. Criticism is such an easy incentive for doing nothing!
One of those who fell by the wayside quite a few years ago, but whose conscience is yet to be blunted by being a member of the majority group, has a very insightful observation to make. “When I was appointed as a lecturer here, I used to think a lot about whether I was suitable for this job. That question I have never been able to answer. But whether I am suitable for this job or not, I know now that this job is suitable for me.”
Scene 1
Two lecturers are discussing how to fill up the `self-appraisal’ form. Filling of this application form was made compulsory by the University Grants Commission for the sake of promotions to higher scales.
“What to write under `publications?’”
“Did you publish anything last year?’
“No.”
“Neither did I.”
“Shall we leave it blank then?”
“No. Write NA.”
“NA…..um …Not applicable.”
“Yeah. That’s what you say when you have nothing to write under a given column.”
The two should have consulted other lecturers on how to fill up the column in question. The following is a sample of the items used by the others.
`Five letters to the editor.’ Details of the newspapers and the dates.
`Four letters to the editor. One more has been communicated and is under consideration.’
`Three stories.’ This entry belongs to a teacher of physics.
`Next year!’
Now, that is a promise.
Scene 2
A fellow lecturer comes back from the US after a year’s post-doctoral research. The following are the queries he faces from the other teachers.
“How many?”( In Hindi, `many’ can be masculine or feminine. Here, it was feminine.)
“You must have brought some Playboys and Penthouses. Yes?”
“An ipod you must have brought. What else?”
The poor fellow fields the questions as best as he can. Playboys and Penthouses, he has brought with him. In fact, they were the first things that he snatched from the bookstore, his curiosity being inflamed from years of hearing about these magazines. iPOD and other goods, well he has never had any interest in such things. As for “how many?”, his answer is a rueful shake of his head. Who knows he is telling the truth or not. But no one is ready to believe him. Even today, the Clintons and the Lewinskys only serve to emphasize the archetype of USA that is so deeply embedded in the mind of the average Indian. So when someone goes there to do research, it is very difficult for us to believe that he is going to do research.
The poor fellow gets away from the clutches of these gentlemen and heads towards his own department where a lady teacher is sitting at the table. Her bulk makes obvious what her priorities in life are.
“What did they give you to eat there?’ she asks. And this is the only question she will ever ask of him in all their years together!
Ph.D. is the end of research
An overheard conversation between two teachers
“Oh. You are still doing research? I thought you had done Ph.D. Long back.”
Not all the teachers are like these. Some read enough to stay abreast of the latest developments in their fields. Some actually apply for grants and do research. You can easily find out from the staff room talks who these few people are. They take part in the normal bonhomie for a few moments and then, as if by some magnetism, huddle together ignoring the raucous talk bubbles all around them. Often they talk of some interesting development. More often though, they criticise the state of education and the lack of seriousness and the time-serving attitude of their fellow teachers. Quite a few of these will fall by the wayside in the next few years. Criticism is such an easy incentive for doing nothing!
One of those who fell by the wayside quite a few years ago, but whose conscience is yet to be blunted by being a member of the majority group, has a very insightful observation to make. “When I was appointed as a lecturer here, I used to think a lot about whether I was suitable for this job. That question I have never been able to answer. But whether I am suitable for this job or not, I know now that this job is suitable for me.”
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