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Chairman's Corner
Chairman's Corner
Roots
Roots
Ravi Ramakantan
Ravi Ramakantan
On a lazy Saturday afternoon, sipping tea on the katta with VJL, I discussed animatedly how green and beautiful some parts of our campus were. Surely, this must be one of the high points of living on the campus - especially on the third floor of the AD bungalow – for I see beautifully blooming yellow gulmohars at this time of the year as I sleepily open the living room door to welcome the milkman!
On a lazy Saturday afternoon, sipping tea on the katta with VJL, I discussed animatedly how green and beautiful some parts of our campus were. Surely, this must be one of the high points of living on the campus - especially on the third floor of the AD bungalow – for I see beautifully blooming yellow gulmohars at this time of the year as I sleepily open the living room door to welcome the milkman!
Even as this scene repeated today, a loud barking noise from the footpath down below drew my gaze. A friendly neighborhood dog was doing its morning tree watering rounds. The roots of this stately, three storey tall, yellow gulmohar tree were being watered by urea rich fluid. The dog should have known better or should it?
Even as this scene repeated today, a loud barking noise from the footpath down below drew my gaze. A friendly neighborhood dog was doing its morning tree watering rounds. The roots of this stately, three storey tall, yellow gulmohar tree were being watered by urea rich fluid. The dog should have known better or should it?
What a predicament for the roots of the grand old tree sprouting such beautiful flowers- I smiled to myself - even as, at that very moment this essay started taking shape in my mind - Roots – I thought to myself– they symbolize what we are today, where we come from.
What a predicament for the roots of the grand old tree sprouting such beautiful flowers- I smiled to myself - even as, at that very moment this essay started taking shape in my mind - Roots – I thought to myself– they symbolize what we are today, where we come from.
How does one remember and respect one’s roots?
How does one remember and respect one’s roots?
Our roots go back to our parents .My parents –simple middle class folks- struggled hard to educate and bring me up. I go to see them just ones in a while though they live just a few kilometers away. My mother often chides me for this – perhaps I should visit them more often – I promise myself – I will…several months pass…
Our roots go back to our parents .My parents –simple middle class folks- struggled hard to educate and bring me up. I go to see them just ones in a while though they live just a few kilometers away. My mother often chides me for this – perhaps I should visit them more often – I promise myself – I will…several months pass…
My school life was an enjoyable one – one phase of my life I would give anything to live again. My teachers taught sincerely – I greatly respect some of them and fondly remember others. But, even today, I have done precious little for my school though I can give back in many ways….
My school life was an enjoyable one – one phase of my life I would give anything to live again. My teachers taught sincerely – I greatly respect some of them and fondly remember others. But, even today, I have done precious little for my school though I can give back in many ways….
Two years at Ruia were a washout – nothing exciting there – take it or leave it!
Two years at Ruia were a washout – nothing exciting there – take it or leave it!
And then came 1971 – the year I entered GS and as of today , am still closeted in its myriad interiors. Perhaps this is where my true roots lie – not surprising when you consider that I have spent more than half my lifetime here. I owe a lot to my teachers - some taught their subjects; others a way of life and yet others became role models. I will for ever be indebted to them.
And then came 1971 – the year I entered GS and as of today , am still closeted in its myriad interiors. Perhaps this is where my true roots lie – not surprising when you consider that I have spent more than half my lifetime here. I owe a lot to my teachers - some taught their subjects; others a way of life and yet others became role models. I will for ever be indebted to them.
Here at home in Radiology, the soil was fertile and I had a few great mentors. People who showed me the way and stepped aside in dignified silence – ever so gently nudging me on. I have not forgotten them – I never will, They were the pioneers – those, like me, that followed just broadened the horizon they had opened.
Here at home in Radiology, the soil was fertile and I had a few great mentors. People who showed me the way and stepped aside in dignified silence – ever so gently nudging me on. I have not forgotten them – I never will, They were the pioneers – those, like me, that followed just broadened the horizon they had opened.
I feel sad when I see people forgetting their roots; forget where they come from and what they were before they became what they are today. People who will glorify themselves at the cost of the coming generation – for, to them there is no past - only the glorious present in first person singular. It does not strike them that today it is their duty to enable such a glorious future for those that are in the " present".
I feel sad when I see people forgetting their roots; forget where they come from and what they were before they became what they are today. People who will glorify themselves at the cost of the coming generation – for, to them there is no past - only the glorious present in first person singular. It does not strike them that today it is their duty to enable such a glorious future for those that are in the " present".
I suppose it will all square up in the end – those that forget their roots will be forgotten the day they cease to be –they would have left nothing behind – not for themselves – not for others.
I suppose it will all square up in the end – those that forget their roots will be forgotten the day they cease to be –they would have left nothing behind – not for themselves – not for others.
April 2003
April 2003
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