These Learning Experiences

There is a Bengali saying that goes something like this: “Buddhiman shikhe dekhe… Boka shikhe theke”. Which roughly translates into English as “smart peoplegetthe lesson from others experiences, the stupid ones don’t until they suffer themselves” I have no doubts that I am a “boka”... because I never learnt from others; I always learnt a lesson only when I had to drag myself through fire… and I forgot them [both about the lesson and the fire] as soon as they were over. And then…those "ooops-I-did-it-again" events were soon resurrected to my misery. The fire must be really tempting and I must be the most stupidest ass walking the face of the earth…

When we were preparing for Australasian Intervarsity Debating Championships [or Australs, for short] back in July 2004, I was quite confident in my abilities. I told our teacher, Meher Nigar June, like a self-confident pompous jerk “Ma'am don’t worry; I am a fast learner.”
She was not happy. the conversation that followed was something like this--

MNJ: fast-learner? I see. But you should rather say you are a hard-worker.
Me: Yes Ma’am. I am that too. [just imagine whatta pompous lying jerk I was]
MNJ: oh, well…

I haven't learnt a great deal from life. But the things I did manage to learn came a little too late. so late, that they were of little significance. It is like the NTV people learning to use the Oxygen cylinder after the entire building had been burnt down and all the films and documents were totally destroyed. An opportunity to apply the skill ofcontrolling fire is of little value now. But there could be a “next time”... who knows? Had they learnt it earlier from numerous garment-factory- fiery-tragedies, the price could have been less. NTV folks must be real “boka” too.

Ma says I took a very long time to learn to read. When my siblings could spell considerably long and complex polysyllabic words like “[e for] elephant” or “[t for television]”, I was stuck at the first letter of the alphabet; all I could do was to modestly spell a-p-p-l-e = apple. After I went to school, my parents found to their dismay that I was fast at learning to swear, fight and do all other kinds of evil deeds but still slow with studies.

It was probably the time when I had emerged as an accomplished popstar. During the Tiffin break, I would go running to different senior students [mostly girls], give a smile and ask them to buy me a Jhalmuri or Amra worth 1 taka. I was considerate enough not to put my 10-11 year old patrons through too much financial hurdles by asking for a 2 taka candy-floss or a 5 taka ice-cream. As time went by and my fame grew, I started to sing half-correct songs in absolutely incorrect melody or recite a newly learnt nursery rhyme with vigorous body movements to a larger audience. Many more patrons were now eager to see me dancing and singing; and then pay for my Jhalmuri. My brother, who was then in class 1, discovered my performance-spree at some point and reported to Ma about it. My artistic endeavors were banned.

The two lessons learnt were: 1. [from the secondary source: Ma] It was not respectable for a singer-dancer to perform everywhere. 2. [from the primary source] My smile had the potential to get me some of the things I wanted.

Photo Courtesy: http://serc.carleton.edu/NAGTWorkshops/earlycareer/teaching/learningstyles.html