The Music class

We used to have a music period every week. Our school was a co-ed and a class had girls and boys on a 40/60 ratio.

Since the school was under the aegis of a cultural organization it was thought very important to teach music to children from a young age. Initially music was restricted to girls alone. But with the arrival of a new teacher called Mangalam, it was decided to make music compulsory for boys also. This was when trouble started.

I now realize that every one cannot learn music. It requires certain amount of interest, family background and active support from parents.

Our class consisted of a motley crowd. Girls were supposed to be more inclined to learn music in those days as it was considered to be a female bastion. But boys were the unfortunate ones, as their buoyant spirit did not match up with the level of discipline and practice required to learn music. It also depended a lot on the skills of the teacher to maintain discipline and create interest amidst the varied student population.

We boys generally categorized our classes as regular or free.
While science, maths, English and similar subjects were considered as regular, Arts & crafts, Physical training etc., were assumed to be free classes.

The reason was that you have to write exams and pass in regular subjects while there was no such need for the free classes. While attending the regular classes all of us exhibited our best discipline and attention, the free classes served to vent out our feelings of freedom in abundance.

Even the free classes had the right amount of discipline essentially due to the authority exerted by the teachers responsible for the class.

Mangalam teacher would have been around 35 years, with slight graying hair at the temples, fair in complexion but not impressive. She had a thin voice, which became shrill once under stress. She was of medium height and slightly stout. We learnt from reliable sources that she had mostly lived in north India and that she was a widow. The other important and useful information was that Janardhanan of the 6th standard whom we used to call Jan was her nephew.

On a Friday morning the music class started. Most of our classes were held in classrooms, which were simple cottages with palm leaf thatched roofs.

The music teacher suggested having her class under one of the big mango trees on the school ground. Her decision was not a wise one, as it turned out later. The reason was simple. Already music was considered as a free class and students would be in a relaxed mood, in addition if a class was held under a tree it provided scopes for distraction all around. It is said that a person would continue to do a desisted act till he suffered out of the act. In the case of Mangalam teacher this was proved beyond doubt.

The class started, with the teacher asking us to sit on the plain ground. She had brought a Sruthi box, which she placed in front of herself. The girls were in the front rows while we boys chose the rear, which afforded many opportunities. After marking attendance, the teacher explained her methodology. She would first dictate us the song, which we had to write down in a notebook. Then she would start singing each line of the song, and we had to repeat in chorus. Thus the entire song was to be sung.



Mangalam miss, started dictating the song, which was one of Purandaradasa’s song known as “Nin Yako”; It is sung in the raga Kanada, which is a raga full of pathos. When the teacher started dictating the song with her feeble voice, there were murmurs all around as the crowd at the back could not fully hear and understand. The language of the song was Kannada, while ours was Tamil. The other problem was that there were no desks to rest the notebooks while writing. Some of the burly boys made use of the back of the smaller boys to write, but most of us had to keep the notebook on our lap and write. We could not make use of the ground, as it was bit sandy.

It took nearly 15 minutes to write the song, and then the teacher commenced singing. It is well known that sound intensity drops in proportion to the square of the distance. What this simply means is that the students nearer to a teacher can hear well and the backbenchers will hear less. Normally a good teacher would compensate this deficiency by increasing the pitch. Mangalam miss, as told earlier had a thin voice and if she had raised it further, the result would have been a shriek.

The effect was that only some students could clearly pronounce the song while most of the voices were humming incoherent self made syllables. The net result was that instead of melodious music, loud noise was getting generated.

Some incidents in life are man made. But the unseen hands of fate or providence create certain other unforeseen events. It was unfortunate when the music class was taking off, in spits and jerks, the HM was on his morning rounds.

His attention was drawn to the class due to the loud cacophony, streaming out in the vicinity of a mango tree.
The moment HM came near the gathering, the teacher stopped singing, and pin drop silence reigned. Only exception was our Annamalai also known as Mattu pallan, who usually could not stop any action immediately. The result was that he continued to blabber loudly some nonsensical syllables.

Teachers exert their authority over the students in unique ways. But they would always prefer to single out culprits and punish rather than take action on the entire class. The procedure is based on the famous theory of “Divide and rule”.

Our HM was no exception. Instead of enquiring Mangalam miss on the ruckus he straightaway went on to the punishment part.

He asked Annamalai to stand up, and scolded him with chosen words of reprimand. He asked him to do twenty rounds of running around the school and immediately departed from the class. Annamalai also left the class in a jeffy with not even a trace of ill feeling.

Mangalam miss started singing again and the change was that only the girls were singing while boys adopted an understandable silence. The teacher did not bother much, as she was not in favour of the HM again visiting her class. The first music class thus ended with a somber note.

Annamalai was missing the afternoon classes. When teachers asked about his absence rest of the boys narrated a story on the unjust punishment meted out to him, and how he was continuing on his tiresome 20 rounds around the school.

I met Annamalai in the evening after the completion of his running and consoled him. Annamalai was cool and was not at all sad on his punishment. He had a derisive smile when he pointed out to a bulky bag by his side. I was taken by surprise when he showed me the contents of the bag. It was full of the choicest pick-up of tamarind fruits one could have ever wished. Annamalai had made wise use of the punishment meted out to him by fully indulging on his hobby.

After all Annamalai was well known in the school as the Tamarind picker.