Where the mind is without fear

– By Karthika Vijayamani, Teacher at Tejasvita Trust

It was a Monday. A stations day for us. It is the day we give children a choice of explorative art activities to do. We teachers set up our stations as usual. One station had the vegetable printing activity. The station had a variety of cut vegetables children could pick, dip in colours and print on paper. Children enthusiastically came to pick their tray of vegetables and colours and set to work. Darshan (name changed) completed his first sheet of vegetable prints and went to the teacher to get a refill of paints and sheets. He then happily went back to his spot to resume his work but, oh no his vegetables had gone missing. I watched him, wanting to see how he will react. Will he make the choice to come up to the teacher and tell about the missing vegetables? Will he cry? What will he do?  


Darshan is a child who keeps very much to himself and is very reluctant to come to the teachers for anything. I was keen on seeing his response. I watched him from across the room, anticipating a response. Not bothering about the vegetables anymore, he started dipping his own fingers in paint and making prints on his new sheet. ‘Nice move!’ I thought as I went on with my work.

A little while after, two very excited kids who were walking  about in the classroom came up to me and very enthusiastically guided me to Darshan. They pointed to Darshan and said “Ma’am see, see” pointing to his fingers, which were all covered in different coloured paints. They went on to point how messy it was and trying to bring to my attention that Darshan was doing something totally different from what he was meant to do with paint, paper and colours. They looked at me with wide mischievous eyes, with a hint of pride like an alert citizen who had warned the policeman of a trespasser, waiting to be applauded for their act and also waiting for me to admonish Darshan for his. Darshan stopped his work and looked at me. I looked at him and encouraged him to continue his work. Two things happened then. One, a big smile of relief from Darshan. Two, quizzical smiles pasted on two highly bewildered faces of the other two boys totally surprised at the turn of events.  Soon, everyone was back to doing their work.

After the class as we were packing up the things and were about to leave. Darshan came up to me and said,  “Bye ma’am” and waved a good bye. That was the first time he had ever approached me by himself and said something. Class had gone on like usual and the above incident would have gone unnoticed as a part of usual class if not for that small wave of hands and that smile of confidence from Darshan. It was such a small incident and maybe it took all of 5 minutes but it made a difference to someone’s confidence. I am hoping that it also helped Darshan’s friends to realize that they are also free to explore.  

Exploration happens when the mind is free – free of boundaries, free of fear and free to soar. We strive to keep our classrooms that way. And sometimes if we are lucky, we get to see the baby steps happen on an ordinary day, in the usual hustle of the classroom, in a smile and gentle wave of multi-coloured fingers.




A story of transformation through art and empathy

– By Bindu, Teacher at Tejasvita Trust

It was a usual day when we teachers went to school, bags loaded with materials and our minds full of ideas for the session that day.  As we entered the school gate, we could see children eating their snacks and playing around.  There were always a few of them who would spot us from far and come running to hug us.   This greeting would be enough for us, to forget the weight of the baggage that we carry, the physical and the mental one.

That day, as I hugged them all, I was surprised to see Vishu’s (name changed) face in that group.  He usually belonged to the indifferent few.  Vishu had a broad smile and looked at me as if he wanted to tell me something.  He then held my hand and took me to the class room.  I decided to follow him.  


When we reached the class room, he pointed upwards to the peg, where we regularly hung the Children’s art work.  He pointed out to one sheet, which was his and said, ‘tree’.  I took the sheet and decided to sit with him for a moment, as he excitedly tried to tell me what he had painted on the sheet, while the other teachers were setting up the class.  When I looked up, I could see Poornima’s (name changed) eyes welled up with tears. Poornima was Vishu’s mother, who worked as the teacher’s help in the same class. Poornima would have sure realised what I did just then, that Vishi had come a long way in these couple of months.

I could not forget the sense of pride on Vishu’s face the rest of the session that day.  Never knew that a small act of exhibiting the children’s work, can do so much to their sense of self-worth.

I was reminded of the initial few days of our session, when it was difficult to get Vishu to sit in one place.  There was a lot of aggression on his petite face, too much for a face that is only four years old.  He would always be walking around, pulling and pushing his peers.  I could never get him to make eye contact, while I spoke to him.   Whenever he was given a choice to select a toy or an activity, he would always choose to snatch what someone else had taken.  His span of attention was barely a few seconds.  His mother’s continuous lamenting and yelling at him in his mother tongue, only made matters worse. Though I could understand her insecurity as a mother, I donned the teacher’s hat and told her not to hover around the son or admonish him while we are around.  Thankfully, she withdrew.

IMG_8291.jpgI was confident when I expected a gradual change in him and we three class teachers worked towards the unsaid agenda.  The first time we took paint to the class, was when I noticed Vishu spending a few uninterrupted minutes on his work.  I still remember the look of glee on his face when he dabbed his hands in paint and looked at me.  Gradually I could see a sense of anticipation in him, as we took something novel to class, every day.  He would eagerly peer into our bag as we did the initial circle time. He must have realised that he enjoyed the colour pencils, the play dough, the sticking, the cutting and the colouring also, because I could now see him engaged for most of the time during our session.  I was rest assured, that art was giving him the much-needed ventilation.

The day we took the play dough, he came and asked me for the star mould, which was used by another kid.  I told him that I was very happy that he asked me for it, instead of snatching it from the other kid and that he had to wait for some time.  He went away after a while, since the other kid did not show any sign of returning the mould.  I got busy with the other children, when Vishu came running to me again and said ‘star’.  I was about to tell him once more that he had to wait, when I happened to look at the writing pad that he held up to show me.  He had made a star without the mould and was smiling from ear-to-ear.  I held him close and both of us looked at the star for some time. Other than making a star without a mould, he had also learnt the skill of patiently waiting for his turn, I told myself.

The sound of the school bell brought me back to the present.  I just could not stop smiling that day.  I realized, once again, that our small gestures for these small lives, is making a big impact, most of the time.  Thankfully, we are being given these opportunities every day.