Tuesday, January 12, 2010

... The Second Day

Incidents on the second day of being a child again.


It's true that grownups like nice weather too, but they only think and ponder over it while we, it seems, drink it in. Grownups too, like a bright morning, but for us, it is frozen wine - it's as if we were made drunk by it.
When I was a grownup and I saw snow, I already anticipated the slush. I felt the damp overshoes and wondered whether there would be enough coal for the winter. And joy, it was there too, but sprinkled somehow with ashes, dusty and grey.
But now, there are thousands of sparks inside me. It's as if someone sprinkled diamond dust in my soul and along the ground.


It's a stern punishment - the corner. I'm weak; sitting in the seat bothered me; I leanded back; I couldn't sit straight. Now I have to stand.


It's a pity that the wonderful game was spoiled so.
How meager is man's language. But then, what can you say?


How many windows are we allowed to break in a year? You say, not a single one? That's absurd! You don't believe that yourself.
Glass was supposedly invented by the Phoenecians. And how is it that after so many hundreds of years nothing more durable was invented?


When I am a teacher again... For example: on such a day of the first snow, I'll suddenly clap my hands during the lesson and say: "Everyone remember what he was thinking just at this very moment. Who's ashamed to tell, let him say that he doesn't want to, so there shouldn't be any constraint."
It doesn't work out at first. But I'll be trying it frequently - as soon as I notice the class isn't paying attention.
And one-by-one:
"What were you thinking? And you?"
If someone says that he was thinking about the lesson, I'll ask:
"You aren't making it up, are you?"
If someone laughs and I see that he does not want to tell, I'll say:
"Maybe you don't want to say it in front of everyone. Then whisper it in my ear or else, I'll write it down during recess."
And they say: "Why does the teacher want this?"
"I want to write a book about school," I'll answer. "I want everyone to be convinced that you can't always pay attention during a lesson. Maybe the recesses should be longer in winter, or maybe o nice days pupils tire more quickly. Many people write books about school. And each time something new is introduced, to make it better for the pupil and the teacher. Because, one day, you will finish school and go your way, but we go to school our whole life."
And my pupils are greatly surprised because it never occurred to them at all that teachers go to school too, and spend many hours there. We're all going to suggest things that we'd like to see changed. I'll tell them that teachers suffer most from sore throats and nerves. And why we are nervous.
And after everyone relates honestly what he was thinking during the lesson, I'll joke:
"Now all those who were not paying attention will get a zero"
"O-o-o, just look how shrewd the teacher is!"
And I: "It isn't nice to say that the teacher is shrewd."
While they, "And why not?"
And so, I explain. And again: "Maybe I should give zeroes to those who were paying attention?"
Some start to yell: "Yes, yes, yes!"
While others: "Why us? We were paying attention!"
"You weren't paying attention though" I'll say.
"Because today is the first day of snow and you don't even notice it!"
"But snow isn't the lesson."
"Then maybe I shouldn't give any zeroes today"
"Neither today nor anytime"
"But it's difficult without zeroes"
"But a zero is awful"
"And to give zeroes is awful too. A teacher would rather give hundreds"
"Then let him"
"But is that allowed?"
And we'll banter this way until the bell.



  1. The last excerpt is brilliant. Loved it :)

  2. The last one was ...... awesome. I mean I really do not have words for that. Great idea!!!

  3. Sneha, thanks for stopping by. I think it is really neat too! :)