Beyond The Lines

By Dr. M. K. Krishnamoorthy

Though my forte is the creative world, I used to dabble now and then as a conscious concerned critic reacting to the current events by calling a spade a spade and providing necessary inputs for progress. Whilst expressing my profound gratitude and sense of appreciation wherever it’s due, I failed not to condemn the words and deeds of the high and mighty with equal gravity.

In the pious endeavour, piercing through the life and death lines of constricting ‘Chakravyuh’ and expanding ‘Gyre’… I could perceive what is intended but not said and not only denoted but also connoted! I deemed it as my bounden duty to make my fellow citizens aware of the good and bad that happen around us for further constructive action. The result is a plethora of write-ups on eclectic areas including some of my personal tragedies that have universal values… The melange of nostalgic thoughts of my odyssey are compiled as ‘Beyond the Lines’ for the perusal of the readers.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Pustaka Digital Media
• Release date: Jun 22, 2024
• ISBN: 6580580011176

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Beyond The Lines

(MELANGE OF NOSTALGIC THOUGHTS)

Author:

Dr. M. K. Krishnamoorthy

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DR MK KRISHNAMOORTHY

BEYOND THE LINES

(MELANGE OF NOSTALGIC THOUGHTS)

Yatha Drishti, Tatha Srishti!

DEDICATED

To

ALL STUDENTS, COLLEAGUES & FRIENDS

Table of Contents

PREFACE

Heart to Heart Talk:

1) To Sir, With Love

2) My Poems

3-(A few old Published Letters and Articles)

4) ORDEAL OR DEAL…

5) THE THIRD EYE

PREFACE

HI(S)TORY!

His is a history of rags to riches story. He was born in a village and brought up in a coffee estate. He toiled as a labourer, battled against the apparition of poverty and allowed his dreams soar high. If it is fire that tests steel, the young ten year old must have already become a man. His schooling started in 1960 from class V..., lived in a hut, collected firewood, fetched water, cooked food, walked bare footed to school, studied under the dim light of street lamps, never had even two square meals a day…but he aced all his exams and games.

He passioned for becoming a doctor but God had nobler things for him in store. For two years he had to discontinue his studies and juggled the roles of labourer, airman, teacher and overseer. Destiny through Dr. U. R. Ananthamurthy (the Gyanpeed Awardee Teacher) brought him to RCE, Mysore where amazingly he opted for the subject which was his weakest spot, English. He excelled there in academics, literature, theatre, editing, sketching and sports. But once again he became a labourer as he could neither muster the cash for theatre nor master the art for others.

A clarion call from KVS in 1975 took him to North East as a primary teacher and eventually became principal in 1995. The profession has brought out the best in him. The response his students gave him made it evident that he is in this world to brighten the future of humanity. His motto being ‘I Dare... Orchid or Kid, I Care’ heralded many innovations in education and has ‘trodden untrodden path’ with a zeal to make the mass of dust into nebula of a new star.

Golden opportunities slid through his hands inexorably, not because of the lack of mettle but because of several perfidious plans of vested interests. Scandals, conspiracies and controversies – things which would have made lesser mortals question their own survival, only strengthened his resolute to live and with dignity. God has always helped him in his mission to prove ‘Truth too Triumphs’. I wonder how many other teachers can be such fountain heads of forethought and optimism after being pushed to the limits he has been!

His idol happens to be Mr. E. R. Braithwaite. Following that exemplary teacher, he strove to metamorphose many deadly caterpillars into breath – taking butterflies. His forte is the domain of juvenile delinquents – he calls them affectionately ‘The Thunderbolts’ and makes them assets to the nation. He has always been a strict disciplinarian and stickler for perfection but with full of compassion. And that’s why he has made indelible differences in so many lives. Countless prayers flow in for him, tearing the barriers of regions, religions… which he acknowledges, ‘Your blessings are the wind beneath my wings’.

He is a prolific writer (so far eight books) and a polyglot too (so far seven languages). God has blessed him with so many laurels, amongst other honours NCERT Award, KVS Eminent Teacher Award, G. N. Bordoloi Award and National Award from the President of India (1995).

He ignited the eternity with his sterling attitude…I aspire to inherit his fortitude. He may not be a global icon yet. But to millions of his students, he is more than one. To me he is an unsung legend. What makes me the proudest is that he is my father.

SRISHTI KRISHNAMOORTHY

(Extracts from Srishti’s article which won her a Commendation certificate from Commonwealth Essay writing Competition in class X--2004)

Heart to Heart Talk:

My odyssey has been filled with umpteen ups and downs, infinite twists and turns, unheard trials and tribulations and in short so to speak ordeals of the highest order. They tested my guts and wits, teased my patience and perseverance, tried to disarray my sanity and equilibrium…and eventually failed not to leave the trails of setbacks, humiliations, loss, scars and above all invaluable life lessons. As all along God is with me, even the sky could not become the limit and horizon the frontier…I rise like Phoenix breaking all the shackles!

During these years what sustained me through these struggles is my refuge to creativity…I could lavishly indulge myself into the creative world of mine where I appreciated the values, condemned the negativities, vanquished the villains, eulogised the uprights, preferred senses and sensibilities over rules and regulations, overcame bias and prejudice, restored justice and banished crimes…evolution of poems, short stories, novels, etc. ensured emancipation…No regrets, only contentment!

If my noble calling ‘Teaching’ anchored me to forge ahead with fortitude zealously pursuing the path of man making mission, the power and glory of my creative venture infused in me vigour and valour to face the harsh reality. The unconditional love of students, colleagues, friends and family helped me to wither the weather through and through.

Though my forte is the creative world, I used to dabble now and then as a conscious concerned critic reacting to the current events by calling a spade a spade and providing necessary inputs for progress. Whilst expressing my profound gratitude and sense of appreciation wherever it’s due, I failed not to condemn the words and deeds of the high and mighty with equal gravity.

In the pious endeavour, piercing through the life and death lines of constricting ‘Chakravyuh’ and expanding ‘Gyre’… I could perceive what is intended but not said and not only denoted but also connoted! I deemed it as my bounden duty to make my fellow citizens aware of the good and bad that happen around us for further constructive action. The result is a plethora of write-ups on eclectic areas including some of my personal tragedies that have the universal values…

The melange of nostalgic thoughts of my odyssey are compiled as ‘Beyond the Lines’ for the perusal of the readers.

DR MK KRISHNAMOORTHY

1) To Sir, With Love

(மாணவனாக...As a Student)

To Sir, With Love...1

Several years ago, in 1970 to be precise, a dark, lanky, rebellious teenager from the coffee estate of Coorg entered the Principal’s chamber at Regional College of Education, Mysore to face the BAEd interview. Questions from various angles had him cornered. Peals of laughter shattered the dreams he had nurtured. Sorry, you have not been selected. Thank you, ma’am. Suppressing his emotions, he smiled and got up. Please be seated, one of the interviewers gestured towards him and asked the Chairperson, Madam, may I know the reason for not selecting him? His English is flawed and moreover, he is over aged. He has come here to learn English and he is over aged because he has had to discontinue his education, probably owing to his poverty...If you don’t mind... At his behest, the boy waited for him outside the chamber and followed him to his room once the interview panel had lunch break.

Do you know who I am? Have you heard of Dr. U R Ananthamurthy? Have you seen Samskara, the award-winning Kannada film that won the President’s award for best feature film this year? Though he could understand the volley of questions as they had been asked in Kannada, he could reply only in the negative. Back in the coffee estate, where the young boy had been working for the past two years, he had never even had the opportunity to pick a newspaper up. This was an intensely different world. Have you brought enough money? If not, I will pay your fees. I can see something in you. One day, you will become great. Do you know why I am helping you? A long time ago, I was in your position. Someone helped me then and that is why I am where I am now. The spontaneously overflowing compassion drowned the young boy. He could hear no more. His heart filled with devotion for in this kind gentleman, he saw God. I could do nothing for the person who helped me but today, I want to pass it on. I know you cannot repay me but I want you to help someone else someday.

I was that fortunate young man and that incident was a turning point in my life. After that fateful moment, I never tried to meet him and our correspondence was sparse. Yet, he lives in me and perennially inspires me. How can I forget that great teacher who opened the vistas of wisdom and helped me regain my lost chance of education? Words are at times indeed inadequate to express the intensity of emotion.

In 1982, after more than a decade of my first meeting with him, I wrote my first letter to him and asked his guidance for my research work. He responded, I am happy that you are now a successful teacher and you are enjoying the work that you are doing. I had forgotten the incident that you have narrated but feel thrilled to have played an important part in your life. Regarding what you want to do, I am sad to tell you that no University in India will accept creative work for a doctoral degree. We are still backwards in this matter... The prompt blessings from him rejuvenated me. I got what I wanted and forged ahead with that.

Another decade passed and in 1992, I wrote him a second letter sharing my achievements and seeking his blessings. ... I am very happy that you have done your doctoral work under Prof. Hiren Gohain who is one of the most eminent literary figures in our country. I am also happy to note that you have had a very successful career in life. I am deeply touched that you consider me to be an important person in your life.

Over the course of the following years, I wrote to him several times. In 1995, when I was appointed Principal of Kendriya Vidyalaya, Shillong, he asked me to serve the community with the fullest respect for the local culture and the people. His words were the catalyst to the wonderful period of 28 years I spent in the North-East, shaping the lives of innumerable students in pursuit of his philosophy of passing it on. In 1996, I dedicated the Government of India’s National Award for teaching to him and he responded with the warmth and joy of a father.

In 2005, he was scheduled to attend a function in Udupi along with the noted film director Girish Kasaravalli. Then working in Mangalore, I went to meet him and offered a copy of the Kannada translation of my first novel ‘Koneyillade Yathre’, a work I dedicated to him. He hugged me and declared with pride that I was his student, introducing me to everybody including Kasaravalli. That was our last meeting in person.

In a world of sanctimony and hypocrisy, that a man of his stature would still make time to reciprocate to his ex-students itself speaks volumes about his personality. If the Gyanpeed Award was given to him for his gyan, he deserved the Nobel Prize for his nobility. The great teacher lives eternally as a symbol of humanity in the grateful minds of students like me. I hope to carry forward his legend and his vision, changing lives through education, and passing it on.

***

To Sir, With Love...2

WAR AND PEACE

Is this the face that launched thousand ships and destroyed Troy? asks Christopher Marlowe about Helen through Dr Faustus. The dazzling beauty of Helen like ‘girls’ created wars and destroyed most of the kingdoms. The whims and fancy of certain chicken hearted ‘boys’ started wars and brought untold miseries and destruction to the humanity. If we go to the root cause of any war the reason may be very mean, useless, petty and easily avoidable. It is man-made calamity besides the natural calamity to maintain the balance of the world!

The Second World War was in full swing. No one was allowed to ask why but to do and die. There was bloodshed everywhere. The battered bodies were scattered all over the land. Blood was flowing like a river, the dead bodies with the fragments and bits of organs being the banks. The sky was filled with smoke and dust. The sound was threatening. The smell was nauseating. The sight was revolting. On the whole I felt giddiness. Some broad-minded great personalities tried their level best to put an end to the great bloody war. But their noble efforts were not recognised.

A sneeze slowly tried to escape through my nose almost like a German Spy. I tried to check but failed. The expected calamity happened. The ‘war’ came to an end. Calm after storm sort of ‘peace’ emerged. We preferred the war. There was pleasure, excitement, thrill and adventure in that war. But in the dead silence there was chaos and confusion. All because of my sneeze! The war which could not be stopped by the whole world came to an end abruptly by my sneeze. It is something a matter of pride and honour one should feel.

But instead I felt guilty. Why?

Let me reveal the reason for my strange