when i was really tiny... (no no, it's not one of those stories about my happy and banal and ordinary childhood... just like the sound of it... makes me feel old and wise!)
when i was in school we were made to write "autobiographies" of things, like autobiography of a pen, a pencil, autobiography of a tree, a flower, lots of things. what must have been the purpose?
that we, as kids, understood or sort of understood the role and purpose and utility (ah that's more like it!) of those things.
that we, as kids, could have the concession of exercising our imagination, let it wander a bit and even get some points and marks and grades out of it. (but the crazy imaginative ones got the least marks. so may be the point was in doing otherwise! as in, give a perfectly-fertile-for-imagination-and-creativity situation and the deal is whoever makes the worst out of it emerges a winner!)
that we, as kids and perhaps as adults later on, could have some potential to see things from others' point of view, feel for something that is otherwise just a use-and-throw thing like a mango tree. may be think of animals and birds and trees and objects like pen and paper to be real and treat them well.
does anyone remember writing such stories?
can any school teacher explain? am still willing to be taught - to imagine, to create, to see things from the other side of the telescope!
No comments:
Post a Comment