Let's Support Our Students at Admission time

         

Anusuya had mailed our Editorial team. 

The Class 10 student of a girls school in Mylapore zone had a clarification to make.

We had posted online ( at www.mylaporetimes.com), a report on the toppers in the Plus Two exams in this school. A report from a trainee.

Anusuya said what was attributed to her was not entirely right.

And she explained when I, as the editor, called her back to understand the situation. She did not entirely disagree with what we had written but she said what she had highlighted was not found in the report.

Her story - that despite financial hurdles, her mother had done all she could to see her focused on the exams so she could score high. Which she did; she was the topper in her school. We agreed to her point, realising there were some sensitive elements to respect, and corrected the online report.

I got chatting further with this girl. She was keen to pursue a course in Commerce or Corporate Secretaryship. She had applied to one of the city’s top women’s college and had not found her name in the first admission list. She was slightly anxious now. 

She had also applied to another private college and it had sought a stiff donation which the family couldn’t afford.

As we chatted I realised that many girls and boys from economically poor and first-generation learners needed counselling and skilling to deal with the real world where merit alone will not get them a seat. 

Misplaced notions and dependence on big loans to fund their studies are fueled by the hope that some magic would happen later. Perhaps they could study at a state-run college where the fees were affordable and expand their study and hands-on skills on the side . . .

It is that time of the year when the Mylapore Times Charitable Trust entertains applications from students like Anusuya. To help them.

The Trust, active for over 20 years now, can support at least 25 students who do well in Std.10 and in Plus Two exams and get admitted to the next level and are keen to make a mark. Every bit of help is deeply felt by the beneficiary.

If the applicant has great intent and capacity, the Trust tries to meet him/her half-way. Education is costly in the marketplace.

But the Trust wants to be that drop in the ocean that can impact. And it manages to do its bit because it gets donations not only from large-hearted Mylaporean but well-wishers from outside the neighbourhood.

And, the Mylapore Times newspaper also makes a handsome donation - from the profits of the previous year. It has done so for over two decades. 

Your kind act is welcome now. Neighbours help neighbours. Please talk to our manager Shanthi at 044-2498 2244. 

Dogs. OK in Apartments? But who will scoop the poop on the street?

Dogs. I used to be afraid of them. Then, I got wary and found my way away from them.

Then I let sleeping dogs lie and licking dogs lick. 

But I still am not a warm dog-friendly person. In the sense, I don’t rub their necks or take them into my lap.

I did not have pets when I was a kid. My pets were newspapers and magazines. They got all my attention.

And then, this happened.

In my freelance days, I often returned home late. Home was then deep inside Pallavaram, then the suburbs on the south side.

Not that I worked late but late evening was the time to catch up with the mainstream journalists.

I’d take the electric train and then walk. 

Now, there was this section of the unpaved main road which ran down and curved into the last lap of my journey home.

One moon-lit evening, a dog began to bark and I slowed down. 

It came up to me slowly and barked.

I paused and walked on the edge of the rough road.

The dog got aggressive and I began to sweat a bit.

There was nobody around. I picked up a stone and flung it.

The dog barked and then slipped into a dark plot.

Then on, whenever I was walking here past the 10 p.m. hour, that very dog would be at its post and bark on seeing me.

Well, with my thick beard and locks of thick hair, that dog had every reason to treat me a suspect!

I recalled this ‘dog’ anecdote when I observed closely, the Rental Classifieds in Mylapore Times. Increasingly, owners of flats opting to rent them out are mentioning the ‘pets/dogs’ rule - the flat cannot accommodate a dog or the block is a pet-friendly one.

I have come across people sharing their tales on both sides of the issue. And I wonder if the city’s civic body is studying lifestyles where many people, not just the rich and landed, are now rearing pets and putting some good money into it.

So does the Chennai Corporation have to discuss regulations on keeping pets in residential quarters or is this an issue for some other state body?

I am aware that the issue of owners clearing dog poop themselves when they are out on a morning walk is severe but neither pet-owners are bothered nor are ward councillors debating this issue in the city council. Anyway, laying drains still tops their agenda.

This morning, I must have counted at least a dozen dogs on walks in the 20 minutes I was taking in some fresh air in this stifling summer. 

Meanwhile, if I am a guest at your place and you have a dog, just warn me and make the right noises. Put me at ease. You cannot but love dogs.

Discovering my own Malgudi. And encouraging teens to write.

        

        I discovered my own Malgudi in recent times. In a biggish village in south Kanara.

On the trips that I make to that spot along the west coast, the local bus station is my hang-out. I need to buy my daily newspapers there, that is if the few that are supplied don’t run out. I can sit here and sip a cup of tea and just look long. Even blankly.

I noticed an old post box tied to the pillar of the bus station office. Thoughts floated in me. Maybe I could walk up to the local post office which was also in that zone, buy some inland letters and write randomly to friends whose addresses I had on record. Or amble to the weekly 'sandhai' ( market) and wander from shop to shop - red chillies, greens, lemons, melons, tamarind and jaggery . .

Just write what I saw in my Malgudi.

I got talking to the drivers of the local auto stand. They had many little stories to share but they would bolt the moment they got a customer. More later, they would say.

I would ask them - but why aren’t there any autos in this place after seven in the evening?

Nobody needs autos and buses then, one said.

Another half-smiled.

We too need a break, he chimed.

Some of them would meet at the watering hole on the edge of the bus station. Order their tetra-packed drinks, lick the freshly-made mango pickle and zoom home after an hour of unwinding.

I have notes for a little book now!

I carry my Pigma Micron pens with me since I have begun to doodle. 

In the mood, I pulled out a pen and tried to draw the bus station scene before me. Rows of buses with fancy, colourful legends stuck to their sides.

I felt good on that afternoon in early May.

At Mylapore Times, we launched the Online Magazine for young people last weekend. We have been doing this for a year or two now. Since our neighbourhood teens are on a big break and some creative souls may want others to read, admire and react to their work, we want students to contribute their poems and short, real short stories, artworks and cartoons, anecdotes and essays, short essays may they be, to this Magazine.

On the weekend, we received two contributions. One from a student of Vidya Mandir: she has already published a book and it is sold online. The other, from a Sivaswami Kalalaya student, who showcased her ‘animated’ art.

Both are posted online - at the Magazine link at www.mylaporetimes.com

You have three weeks to send your creative work to us.

The details of what you can do and how you must send it are all there, online.

I am sure all of you who write well, or paint or doodle, or are poets in the making. Or even jot down scenes of your holiday or of life around you. All this and more can find a place in this Magazine. 

It feels good to be published. To be read by people.

Start young; start now. Our weekly neighbourhood newspaper is offering you the platform.