Housholder held the house together!

February was a special month for us. It was a time to look back and question 'so what' or 'how' of all that we had learned throughout our time at SAIACS. An experience at Indiranagar Methodist Church on 23rd was enough to gauge our capabilities in explaining before others what we knew. Puppets of our teacher, Dr. David Housholder, lovingly known as 'Doc', were quite refreshing. Cindy, whom I found fun-loving and jolly (quite like me), and her mother were also blessing in their own capacities.

Yet the best day in the module was 13th. No, not because its the day before the Valentine's Day. It was special because after studying together for more than twenty months, all of us unfolded something new about ourselves that the others never knew.

As a part of our education, our teacher, a truly grand-fatherly figure, Doc asked us to share our unforgettable experiences and influential personalities in our educational career. However, gradually the discussion, for the sake of good I think, turned towards sharing of our testimonies. One after another each spoke about how life had treated them and how God had called them in His vineyard. Each story was unique and special. Particularly impressive were Jayaraj and Jisha (forgive me for my subjective perspective). Not because others had nothing important to say, but probably because I had quite a few things to identify with both of them. I am aware that others have many exciting areas of their life, which they could not open up due to the constrains of time.

This was special occassion because, we, as a class had not been able to spent much time together, at least for last six months, due to our thesis writing work. We had hardly any time to find out how the other one was doing. But now was the time to pour out all that we had in our hearts eagerly waiting to be gushed out once provided the opportunity. It was Doc who with his caring attitude and patient listening opened the doors of our hearts and provided us with long-awaited opportunity. And the stories came flowing.

We realized that Dr. Housholder had not only held our house together, he had made it much stronger than before. Hats off to Doc.

Millers' 46

February 11 was a memorable day for us - M.Th. second year students of Theology department. We went out for dinner, along with Nigel, our department co-ordinator, his wife Selena, sweet and tiny daughter Muskaan, and also this module's visiting faculties Dr. David and Linda Householder. Thomas was appointed as an organizer of the trip. He and Nigel worked together to finally select Miller's 46 as the venue.

We left from SAIACS at 6:30, and reached the venue by 7:30. As usual, some of us were hungry enough to swallow two plates of rice with the ever-tasty sambhar of SAIACS. The thought of dining outside had intensified the hunger. We had talked about our excitement before leaving from SAIACS, least aware of the unique and memorable experience that was waiting for us.

The uniqueness of experience began as soon as we received the menu. Few names made sense to us. These were: chicken, beef, fish, prones or pork; and the spices like pepper and garlic. But these names did not stand alone, they had adjectives, which made them something mysterious. We kept looking, sometimes at the menu and other times at one another, waiting for someone to order first, so it would make it easier for the other to say, "oh, the same for me too." The Householder and the Kumars were done. Jisha, Villo and Thomas too had their preferences. Jayaraj, I, Elayaraj and Zulu were the most confused ones. I and Jayaraj discreetly reached a conclusion that Jayaraj would opt for prawns and I would ask for chicken, and then we can share with each other. We could feel a proud smile on our faces because of making the wisest choice.

Soon, the servers came with what we had demanded. They pronounce the name of each items to place them in a right place. This was another test, because we had to work hard to remember what we had asked for. Soon came a plate, which seemed like made of china and frying pan attached to it. The smoke was stil coming out of the plate. When the server pronounce the name, I realized it was for me. I was scared to see the unique characteristics of my plate. Thankfully, Jayaraj soon joined me. His was the worse case, because he was given prawns with noodles, something he does not like. We looked at one another and smiled. There was yet another man who looked worried - Zulu.

I soon found out that I had something familiar, chicken and rice in the plate. I soon became a happy man. It was even more amusing to see Zulu and Jayaraj struggling. I gave them a devilish smile. Chicken in my plate was tasty and I soon finished it, without remembering the treaty I and Jeyaraj had made. Zulu was struggling and asked for help to finish his food. Thomas, I, and Jayaraj who had by now completed his task willingly lended help to Zulu. Finally we all were done.

We came back to SAIACS, not grumbling but laughing at ourselves. What else could we do! Some of us gathered that night and concluded that it was good to have such an experience once in a while. But yes, only once in a while.

Malgudi Days

I am addicted to this habit of beginning a thing with a bang, and then not being able to give time to it, or wanting to get rid of it as early as possible. But this should not hamper my comeback, so let me decide to be more punctual in blogging this time. To begin with a book that I am reading these days, (actually for a long time, but have not been able to complete - one more proof of my laziness) - Swami and Friends by R K Narayan. I found this particular portion of the book quite amusing.

Let me tell the context first (as an obedient student of Hermeneutics). Swami and few of his classmates did not attend the school for a day. The next day, they are asked to explain the reasons for their absence. And so we have a reply from one of the students:

"The fifth [student] said that his grandmother died suddenly just as he was starting for the school. The Head Master asked him if he could bring a letter from his father. No. He had no father. Then, who was his guardian? His grandmother. But the grandmother was dead, was she not? No. It was another grandmother. The Head master asked how many grandmothers a person could have. No answer. Could he bring a letter from his neighbours? No. he could not. None of his neighbours could read or write, because he lived in the more illiterate parts of Ellaman Street. Then the Head master offered to send a teacher to this illiterate locality to ascertain from the boy's neighbours if the deaht of the grandmother was a fact. A pause, some perspiration, and then the answer thatthe neighbours could not possibly know anything about it, since the grandmother died in the village. The Head Master hit him on the knuckles with his cane..." (p.104).

Remember your school-days?