What was wrong with the system - I

I have been meaning to start this series of posts on what I believe has been wrong with various educational institutions which I've studied in. I might stir up a hornet's nest by posting these, and therefore I need to ask you to go and read the disclaimer before you start suing anybody else. Also, the reason this dirty linen needs to be washed in public is that it will get enough attention. In systems where accountability is almost zero, external pressure can sometimes work wonders. Let me clarify at the very outset as well, that each of these places have been very valuable in my life: I've learned a lot in each of these. But sometimes you need to call a spade a spade, and the time is ripe that I should give up pretensions and get public what the scene behind the goody-goody curtain was.

Ramakrishna Mission Vidyapith, Purulia. Set in a very remote place almost without good city comforts and very poor road/rail access (as opposed to a major city), it was an ideal setting for reinforcing the ideals taught by (in fact, lived out by) the likes of Swami Vivekananda. Most of us passing out of there were and still are very well versed in his quotations, but I really doubt how much we all could put to practice.

For those of you unfamiliar with the Bengali culture, it is a great honour reserved exclusively for Brahmin couples to be the godfather and godmother during a child's sacred thread ceremony. Typically, the first woman to give him alms is called the "Bhikkhemaa", and she almost becomes like a second mother to you. Sri Ramakrishna insisted, in order to break caste boundaries, that an sudra ("untouchable") woman be granted the honour, who had been the midwife during His birth. We at Purulia were supposed to live by this code: of equality and humanity. Guess what... unless you were a Brahmin, you weren't allowed to be the priest in the temple in the campus. Just in case you are wondering, a friend of mine from our batch who wasn't a Brahmin did go to ask our chief hostel warden (a monk), and he was turned down. During Kali Puja, during certain ceremonies all the non-Brahmins were asked to leave: they apparently were not too "pure" to be present there. Says who? I have carried the news once myself to my non-Brahmin friends.

It was a place where we, as students of Class 7, were lightly caned on our palms if we admitted to mixing with girls during vacations or watching any TV. Of course most of us watched the TV at home, but the culture demanded that we lie to the monk who administered this discipline. From Class 4-10, it was blasphemy to speak of any film stars to anyone. To store any posters or cut-outs of these people from newspapers?! Blah.. you were better off dead. I was convinced during Class 9-10 that watching any movie of any kind was as good as poisoning myself. You watched a woman dance on the screen? Oh my god... you were opening the doorway to hell! It was deemed poison, and that we should protect ourselves against all the evil influences of the world outside the campus by being a complete mantra-spelling gospel-spreading teenager. No movies, no songs from them either. Never mind that Swami Vivekananda had himself ran back to apologize to a court nautchni and singer at the Maharaja of Khetri's palace, after he had condemned her and left the court: he came back and worshipped the Holy Mother in her. We spoke with awe of the seniors and some monks, who, when they were young, walked on the other side of the road if a woman was walking on that side. I still wonder how they believed that we would stick to this mindset after passing out of there.

I can go on, but maybe in another post. The point is that a lot of things have been plaguing the organization from within. I may be a weak instrument, and the Mission at Purulia might be doing a great deal of good work, but I still don't think they are excuses enough to leave some of the best minds of the state burdened with a mentality and crippled with an apologetic mindset that would take us years to shake off the yoke.