THE IMPORTANCE OF MENTORSHIP IN THE NEXT GENERATION’S LIVES - BLOGCHATTER HALF MARATHON 2023

 
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The word ‘mentor’ has always been there in our lives, right from the olden ages when rulers used to use their influence and affluence to bring up struggling artists and writers. Queen Elizabeth lent her name to the age that she reigned over – the Elizabethan era, and many were the prominent people she brought into the limelight, starting with William Shakespeare himself.

Indian rulers like Jahangir, Akbar and Shah Jahan promoted the arts and literature in their courts. Who has not read about Akbar’s Nine Jewels or the Navaratnas? The Chola rulers of South India brought up the exquisite art form known as Tanjore painting or Thanjavur painting where gold leaf was used to embellish the classical themes.

                                                           Pinterest - Tanjore painting

Coming closer to the modern era, the renowned artist Raja Ravi Varma had a special mentor in his uncle, Sri Raja Raja Varma, who spotted the former’s artistic talent and honed his talent during his childhood. However, it was later in life that Ravi Varma moved to Baroda in the north of India where he encountered his greatest mentor, Maharaja Sayaji Rao Garkwad III. The rulers of Mysore, Maharaja Chamaraja Wadiyar X and later Maharaja Krishnaraja Wadiyar IV also afforded him tremendous encouragement by commissioning many of his later paintings.

The world ‘mentor’ means an experienced and trusted advisor. In Greek mythology, Mentor was the friend of King Odysseus or Ulysses who was put in charge of the education of Telemachus, the prince.

                                                      Children's Institute

According to the Cambridge Dictionary, a mentor is defined as “a person who gives a younger or less experienced person help and advice over a period of time, especially at work or school.”

How vital is it to have mentors in today’s world to lead the present generation forward? In my opinion, while the mother is supposed to be the child’s earliest mentor, the next set of mentors are teachers and counsellors in school. There is no denying that children are like plants and will run wild, untrammelled, if they have no one to show them otherwise. Children should grow up in the best possible way – be free to do what they want to do as long as it does not harm themselves or anyone around them.   

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Mentors have always had a special place in society. They have held up lanterns for others to follow. Even an intellectual like Isaac Newton said, “If I have seen further it is by standing on the shoulders of giants.” That is the truth. Mentors are always giants, allowing others to see the hope within themselves.

The importance of mentoring cannot be minimized. As children grow, their first mentors after their parents are their teachers at every stage who hold their hand and uplift them mentally and intellectually. As Henry Brooks Adams put it so well, “A teacher affects eternity; he can never tell where his influence stops.”

Once a young person reaches the point when he must earn a living, he needs a different kind of mentor. One who will help him in his career, to achieve his dream goals and offer him new perspectives from a vantage point of experience. A person who has once been in the same shoes as his mentee and has created his own path towards success.

It is vital that a mentor be the master of his craft so that he can pass on his skills. He should be proactive and talk generously of his mentee at places that matter. It is his job to upskill as well as build up the career opportunities of his protégé. Of course, there are examples of peer mentors who are generally of the same age and turn into sounding boards and confidantes.

Who ever said that one cannot learn from those younger than one? In fact, teachers often learn much while interacting with their students. This is called reverse mentoring and offers the mentors fresh and new perspectives which are relevant in the modern world.

It is so important to learn from others and then go ahead and ignite the flame in someone else as well. Learning is like a candle which can be used to light many other candles. It was the effervescent Whoopie Goldberg who said so aptly, “We’re here for a reason. I believe a bit of the reason is to throw little torches out to lead people through the dark.”

I have had the honour of having many talented mentors in my life, starting with my parents, some wonderful teachers in school and later in life, some amazing senior ladies when my husband was part of the Indian Army who helped me to add facets to my personality in their own inspiring ways. Today, when I stand up to speak before a crowd, pick up a paintbrush, cook a certain dish or write an inspiring poem, I can visualise the talented people who cheered me on from the sidelines. I can never forget any of them.

The world, today, is a changed place. The old ideas of parenting have been thrown out of the window, grandparents no longer play the same roles, and the advent of the nuclear family has ensured that parents have turned more defensive and protective of their offspring. The role of good effective mentors has increased in importance, if only to streamline the life and career choices of young ones today who have a dazzling array of choices before them. Robert Frost’s poem ‘The Road Not Taken’ comes to mind. The poet took the road not taken which made all the difference. That is what a mentor can do for his mentee… help him to find the right path, one that makes all the difference!

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 This post is a part of the Blogchatter Half Marathon 2023.

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THAT LITTLE PICK-ME-UP - BLOGCHATTER HALF MARATHON 2023

 
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Days should have more than twenty-four hours to be able to do all the things one wants to. I say this with conviction at around 5pm on a rollercoaster of a day, when so many things came together in a beautiful chaotic way, leaving one with a sense of exhausted contentment. An oxymoron, wouldn’t you say?

A typical working day starts early, with home chores that need to be sorted before one gets out of the house. Of course, since my better half and I live alone, our daughter having shifted base to South Africa, everything needs to be done with precision. Just enough food to last for two meals, all food from outside to be consumed within two days and ice creams only on weekends and cheat days!

Of course, these rules have been arm-twisted out of all shape, because I do not believe in doing things by half-measures. So, when I cook, I make enough food to last me awhile, when we order in lunch on Sundays (another rule!), I do try and add that little extra so that it lasts over, at least, four meals, and cheat days come a little more often than otherwise.

School days are hectic, but enjoyably so, as there is nothing more exhilarating than being with children of all age groups, from the ‘small wonders’ who are bursting with energy, enthusiasm and affection, to the high school and the plus two seniors who believe that showing affection is akin to wearing their hearts on their sleeves. They claim to be almost adults or ‘tweenagers’, with one foot on the threshold of a ‘brave new world’ out there.

There is never a dull moment through the day… for instance, in those eight hours, one can witness meltdowns by teachers and children, sports injuries, ‘lack of breakfast’ swooning, fisticuffs and colourful language thrown around before teachers swoop down on them, sudden bouts of fever, colds, coughs, and sometimes, conjunctivitis and asthma as well. On an average nowadays, there is a deluge of children going home with their parents due to ill health.

Teachers have never had it so tough… they are handling new methods of teaching as ideas whirl around like arrows in olden battles. Covid-19 made them tech-savvy, and it is a struggle to wean children off those devices which were oh-so-essential during the lockdown. Apart from that, the virus came and went, (or is perhaps, on its way out having outstayed its ‘welcome’; wrong word, but it fits in here, doesn’t it?), leaving a generation of lonely, melancholy, introverted young souls behind, many of whom are struggling with physical, emotional and mental issues. Hence, I rephrase, teachers have never had more of a chance to make a difference to the young ones they teach. It is a challenge, but in the end, holding the hand of one child and leading him or her across the sea of hurdles makes it all so worth it.

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Back home, the adrenaline flows out as I sit with a hot cup of green tea mint, and ponder over whether I should go for a walk. Most days, I just sink back on my enormously relaxing armchair, which is aptly dubbed the ‘lazy boy’, and read a book or watch my favourite crime serials. Once the tea is downed, it is time to do a bit of writing, potter about in the kitchen and chuckle over photos and videos of our little heartthrobs – our grandchildren. A quick visit to my sister-in-love’s place down the corridor, a video chat with our daughter, messaging my sisters, a call from my mother, a shared joke with my better half – these are the little joys that energise me after a hectic day.

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 Dinner time spent in sitting in companionable silence, watching something on television that we both enjoy. I think my thriller-killer instincts get further honed when I watch both cosy and gory murders on television, and the more horrific it gets, the more relaxed I feel! As my better half is fond of telling anyone who will listen, “I sleep with one eye open at night!”

Between tea and dinner is a tiny oasis where I sit down, complete the newspapers that I had left, half-read in the morning, and do my Sudoku for the day. My heart may lie in Shakespeare and Dickens, but my mind meanders with enjoyment through the various difficulty levels of Sudoku, the tougher the better.

When I finally get to bed, I send up a prayer of gratitude to the Almighty for the day gone by, and pray for a good night’s sleep.  Then I switch my reading lamp on, snuggle up with my book, and read my way to that point when I am ready “to sleep, perchance to dream”.

 
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 This post is a part of the Blogchatter Half Marathon 2023.

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A CHIP OFF THE OLD BLOCK - BLOGCHATTER HALF MARATHON 2023

 

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“The Child is Father of the Man,” said William Wordsworth in his poem ‘My Heart Leaps Up’. This is an oft-repeated line which has been used by many over the decades, maybe because it is not only an easy poem to memorise but also makes much sense when children emulate their parents, or do things that earn them a pat on their backs.

                                                                 QuoteFancy

I grew up, an only child for seven years, after which my sister was born. For all those years I was like a sunflower, tossing and turning my head towards the sunshine in my life, notably my parents, both of whom were, in my opinion, outstanding. Often, I would sit and list out what made me like them, probably because I had all the time on the world, as children often do.

Both my parents loved reading, and I grew up with books all around me. My mother ran a library at home where she encouraged children and adults to come and browse around. I still remember that there were some special books which were not only expensive, but also rare. On these, mom would write in her perfect script – “These books are not for lending!” Some had my grandfather’s writing on them, with apt and humorous comments, especially when he disliked a book but did not want to say so, in so many words. He would camouflage his emotions with an acerbic comment on the page.

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“Which heroine in her right mind would fall in love with such a dull hero?” Or when he came across an objectionable statement, he would write, “Was the author in his senses when he wrote this, I wonder!”

My mother would chuckle over these provocative comments which made the text even more interesting for those who read them. She would also add her comments verbally, maybe because she did not believe in writing on books. “One scribbler in the family is more than enough,” she would remark.

I think I inherited my critical spirit from them. Even today, when I read a book, I look at both sides of the picture, and very often, my fingers itch to write a caustic comment on the side. But then, I too refrain from writing on the page because I adore the pristine, well-maintained look of a loved book.

If perfection and logic could take a human form, they would be something akin to my father. Apart from having the most exquisite calligraphy I have ever seen, he had magic in his fingers. He could create beautiful things out of the mundane. I still recall the time when he turned me into a post box for a fancy-dress competition in school when I was in the fifth or the sixth grade. He spent hours over it, creating the red frame, painting in the letters and finally, when he slipped it over my head, I looked like a perfect little post box. Needless to say, I won the first prize.

Years later, when I was an Army wife, we had a gift-wrapping competition for a Ladies’ Meet programme. I thought of my father and what he would have done. The magic worked and I created a little palanquin with red gift-wrapping paper, sequins, gold thread and glue. The final product came out even better than I thought it would and when I won the first prize for it, I sent up a silent prayer to my father, who had passed away decades ago, but who remained with me in spirit. It was, indeed, a ‘eureka’ moment in my life, a ‘chip off the old block’ moment which energised me no end.

Of course, it is not always the best qualities that one inherits in one’s genes! When growing up as an army brat, I remember travelling around with my parents from state to state. Army houses are built out of ingenuity and innovation, and decorated with a variety of artefacts bought from across the country – bedspreads from Rajasthan, ironwork from Murshidabad, jute from Assam, Kathakali heads (we received ten of them when we got married!) from Kerala and mirrorwork from Gujarat. My mother was the ultimate ‘bargainer’ and could bring down the price of just about anything. Our house was filled with beautiful eclectic pieces which mirrored the interiors of most army houses.

                                                              Mermaid Collections

The magpie instinct trickled down to both my sister and me. Both of us could never refuse a good bargain. My baby sister, on the other hand, would buy things, use them well for a season, and discard them once she tired of them. That habit never rubbed off on us, her two elder sisters, who would hang on to every little object d’art we had till doomsday, and probably, even further.

All I can say to sum up is this. We inherit the best of our parents, if we are lucky, and the worst, if we are not. However, every little gene travels down in the hope that it will enhance the life of the offspring it travels into. I truly believe that in my case, I would have been a very different personality, had I not my parents’ genes within me, and as a popular heroine once said to great effect, “I am my own favourite!”

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This post is a part of the Blogchatter Half Marathon 2023.

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