Assumptions of a Culture

The class had a brief. They had to prepare a story where a parent disapproves of his/her teenager’s  dress, but when s/he sees the brand, s/he suddenly changes his/her view in favour of the outfit. This brief was the way it was because this was no simple creative writing class. It was creative writing geared to students who belonged to the advertizing and marketing stream, and we had been talking of brand loyalty and brand obsessiveness etc.

The stories that emerged were of course, as usual, unusual and wonderful, some more so than others, but creative nonetheless. Reading out her response to the brief, one student talked of how Sita wondered what Ram would wear for the evening party he was to go to, and it was half-way through the rendition of the story that another student piped up, “Oh, Ram is Sita’s son?” and the incredulity was evident in her voice. “Yes,” shrugged the story maker and teller of this tale, and continued.  

And so we come to what struck me as the assumptions of a culture.  Since we are so steeped in or aware of the Ramayana, we automatically assume that to every Ram, every Sita can only be a wife. Of course, a modern Sita can name her son Ram, and maybe her husband is called Ravinder or Manoj or some other name. The point is that for a long while into the story, some of the students had to make a mind shift to think of Sita addressing her son  Ram, and scolding him for not dressing in appropriate clothes for a party, and later saying, “Oh, it’s a …….shirt, then wow! I adore this brand, why didn’t you tell me this was their latest…” etc. J

So changing what is ingrained in our minds takes time, even if it is a simple story that shows this. And of course, to a non-Indian, or one unfamiliar with the Ramayana, Sita and Ram as mother and son would not have a question attached to it. Or an incredulous response.  

Encounter: A Different Set of Students

It is not all about fiction…

I am teaching a group of students who are studying marketing and advertizing as their main subject. This batch belongs more or less to the age group I usually teach, i.e. post-graduate students aiming to hone their writing skills. The difference here is that their aim is not to become 'writers’, but to have such a skill as an added advantage when they sally forth into the business world.

Well, I geared my talks keeping their interests in view, and as they learn from me, I also learn that each group of students is a different kettle of fish altogether. Delightful, yes, but quite different in their selection of waters for swimming.   

For example, there is great bonding in this group because they are exactly the same age, give a year here and there. They are interested in marketing, advertizing and public relations. Creativity and writing is a part and parcel of their greater pursuits. Despite the bonding, they come from different backgrounds, some have studied literature and some have studied commerce. They are dead serious about the classes, and almost everyone is present.

As we sit  in the sun in the ampitheatre (the cold chill of the class had prompted us to move out and it has been a good decision), the sound of the airplanes that fly overhead often disturbs us. So does the carol singing of the young kids,  preparing for the Christmas show, in the garden above the sunken ampitheatre. Despite the constant noise of some kind on the other, we manage to communicate and are happy in the warmth.

So we discuss books. What kind of books do they like to read? The feedback is revealing. One does not read at all, another watches 'only' movies, a couple of them read 'only' biographies and autobiographies. One of them says she does not like fiction at all, and then says she enjoys reading books by Amitav Ghosh! Turns out she is mixing fiction with fantasy.  So she likes reading fiction but not fantasy. Not one of them like any kind of fantasy, and all of them hate Harry Potter (especially the books). Now that is shockingly revealing! There is one book-worm amongst them who reads everything from Chetan Bhagat (all the novels) to the new breed of young Indian English writers (“ I Hate to Love You” and “I Too Have a Love story” types) to Sidney Sheldon and more. But she is the only one. A couple of them like ‘Sybil’ and recommend I read it, and one of them mentions "Love Story" and how passe it is. Someone asks me about "Catcher in the Rye" and what it is about.

In totality, the impression I got was of students who do not read a lot. And they acknowledge it with grinning nods. And ask me about the books I read. Hopefully, and I can see the hope reflected in their eyes, they will read some more now. At the moment,they are aware but not absorbed…regarding books. But ask them about advertizements and they will roll them off their tongue. We like the “daag achey hain” and  “get lost” and “jid karo, duniya badlo,”advetizements but we can’t understand the logic of this one and hate that one and so on. They are pretty vociferous about advertizements, so I guess they are in the right program. The ‘Creative Writing’ student groups (and there have been several) were into creative writing and reading and mentioned books they had read like flipping coins one after the other…non-stop. Much like this batch does regarding advertizements.

I love their smiles, enthusiasm and willingness to absorb and learn. They pay attention despite the distractions. They are a close-knit set with pen drives and netbooks and tight jeans and a certain degree of cockiness. And I just love to connect with them as they talk after class about a game called ‘sun’, ‘moon’ and ‘home’ and jump up and down the steps of the ampitheatre, playing the game and laughing like a bunch of school kids. Books are the furthest from their mind as they begin talking about a marketing survey they need to do.

I head out to lunch with my mom where the sarson-ka-saag, makki-ki-roti  and adrak-chai is waiting along with more of this sun and laughter.

*****

Another class: another encounter of the fun kind

This was a fresh batch of students and I was getting better at it. I went with a more relaxed approach but of course the underlying excitement was there, of meeting a new bunch. This bunch had students, a civil servant, a businessman, writers, hairstylist, a yoga enthusiast, a sportsperson, a couple of dancers, a sci- fic lover,  and a lot of enthusiasm. Winter was setting out and spring was on its way in, yet the air did have the element of chill in it. I was early for the first class and as I sat nursing my tea, two of the students walked up to me and we talked before we left for the formal class interactions. They later joked about it, saying they were making sure they got to know me before the others did. J

In class, the ice-breaker was a laugh, with Ramesh and Rama as two characters who were married for thirty years and had grandchildren before a small act of Ramesh’s made Rama decide she could not live with him any longer. He broke the ice and put it in his red wine, and she thought, yuck, how could she possibly put up with someone like this. So she left him and found another guy but the best was that Ramesh was very happy with this separation for finally he could drink the wine as he liked it (with ice) and he also could show his interest in Rama’s lover since he could now proclaim that he was gay and not have any problems about it.

We then worked with an image which threw up all kinds of story ideas from mother earth to performing lemons to a sadhu within the central green pod who was out to mislead the world. I liked the idea of the performing lemon the most. The other tales were of how the blue squiggles were the common man who was non- descript and shallow, the ones on the balconies above were likened to noblemen or controllers of the pod or even jalebis (by one of the students who said she could not think beyond food).

One of the other exercises also produced some very interesting tales. There was a tale of a man buying a lettuce and wondering why the seller asked for hard cash as change and why he could not ask for liquid  change instead, as he sat under a lamplight in the gathering dusk. There was another fantasy tale of how a lettuce could only live so long and then change into a liquid form which could impart its life to another being but become liquid as it did so and be held within a lamp after that. These were very interesting tales, and then one of them brought out a tale of a dancing lamp. So we had homework to do with a dancing lamp or a performing lemon since the photo had a performing central piece that resembled a lemon to one of the participants.

It was a good experience, full of fun and laughter. And work done.