Sunday, November 28, 2010

Our Garden is no Paradise!

Squirrels in our garden
Scampered freely,
Up and down a row of mango trees
Appearing out of nowhere
They’d rush around with rare alacrity,
Their small, beady eyes darting everywhere
Emerging out of an unseen, black hole
Hidden inside the thick foliage;  
Bending generously over our house
Their habitat was a permanent honeycomb, 
In summers
Shading off the skin-scorching heat,  
Scattering thousands of delicious mangoes
Across our backyard
That squirrels often refused to touch or eat,
In winters 
The thick grove spread over our balcony,  
Giving a protective, green cover
To an otherwise sullen-looking, red-brick structure,
Threatening to engulf all Nature.
Our garden is no Paradise,
Yet birds in flight often stopped over
To splash and dive,
To roll and jive, 
In little pools of water
Our tap created,
Every time, it was thoughtlessly left open
Pretty little beaks drinking drops of muddy elixir,  
Only sometimes,
Surprise knocks on the window-panes
Made us wonder,
Why our guests have chosen not to press the door-bell?  
Curious to see the visitor’s face, 
As we pushed the curtains away,
An uplifted beak of a sparrow greeted us, 
Pecking into our woodchuck peace.
Most of the time,
The birds and squirrels left us alone
Minding their own little shops,  
Almost with a touching self-absorption;  
Never making any demands on our attention,
Caught in their own circumambulations 
Almost with Ganesha’s devotion. 
This completion is what we humans hate to see,
It reminds us of our own inadequacy;
Even if we have no will to control or destroy,
We find it hard to resist the impulse to try,
Dipping our brushes into rainbow palettes,  
Ready with our strokes to alter the design.  
For us,
Nature’s bounty and munificence are not enough,
We love to pierce her ears, turning truth into fluff. 
Her strange, enigmatic ways set our teeth on edge,
Driving between our needs and greed, a permanent wedge.
So, unmindful of the birds, squirrels and their habitat,
One day, the patriarch issued a diktat:  
Now that winter is almost upon us, riding slow, 
With sunshine our garden must overflow; 
We thought it was a very human decision, 
Lopping off a few branches was not out of season;    
A few unruly branches won’t make so much of a difference? 
They’ll grow back in no time, we argued in self-defense.  
The same thick foliage that serves us well in summers
Becomes a nuisance in winters, no fool readily suffers.     
When the first axe fell on the branches of a mango tree,
Several squirrels jumped out, running frenziedly,
Though a zigzag of broken shards on the wall,   
Unmindful of how it may rip off their fluffy fur  
Rendered homeless, they scurried for another cover. 
Now, our garden has plenty of sunshine
But birds don’t come calling, any more 
And squirrels, I’m told, have left for other shores.   

Friday, November 26, 2010

When will this bloke ever grow up?


When I look into the mirror
My receding hairline,
Tufts of grey above my side-burns,
Crow’s feet around my lazy eyes,
Dark circles darkening in the broad daylight,
My slightly peppered, graying goatee, 
And the hardening of lines along the nose,
Suddenly stare back at me, 
As though mocking at the thoughts in my head.
When I look into the mirror
My bespectacled vision,
Clouded with heavy puffs of my sighs,  
As though cataract has descended early,
My knotted knuckles and twisted fingers, 
Aching bones, arthritic joints,  
And twingeing knees, crackling under my weight,  
Suddenly stare back at me, 
As though mocking at the thoughts in my head.
When I look into the mirror
My puffy face and baked skin,
Turning brown in the oven of time,
My midriff, ever expanding like population,      
Oodles of flesh gathered at all the wrong places,
Like lumpy pouches of poverty,  
My gout-ridden ankles and swollen feet,
Suddenly stare back at me, 
As though mocking at the thoughts in my head.
When I look into the mirror
I find youth has come and gone,
Without stopping at my door,
Like a postman in a hurry,
Rushing off to deliver parcels and letters, elsewhere,
Leaving behind a stamp of age,
As strong as my fate-lines,
Etched out in my palms,
I refused to open up.   
Now every time
I look into the mirror
An old man looks at me,  
And steps back,
Reflectively,
His spectacles slightly askew on his nose,
Sniggering at the shadows inside my head,
Wondering,
When will this 'bloke' ever grow up? 

Thursday, November 25, 2010

O Shiva! O Shiva!

You’ve come from the house of Shiva
I know,
But you're not Parvati, the goddess.
I never saw a halo around your head
And I think,
You performed no miracles, either.
To say that you could have been his daughter
Would mean I know no mythology,
Or have no qualms about turning it upside down.   
The biographers of Shiva boldly state,
He had no daughter
That he ever knew of. 
So who are you?
Are you the young, naïve girl
Who insisted upon visiting Daksha, her father, 
Against the instructions of her husband? 
The one who had to go through
The unbearable agony,
Humiliation and shame,   
All unwelcome visitors often live through.  
Are you the one who cowered in shame,
Listening to Daksha, your father,
Shout imprecations upon your husband?
Just because he wasn’t around.  
Why didn’t you quiz your father, then, 
About his surreal notions of culture?                                                                    
Why didn’t you turn the tables on him,
Saying:
‘So what if I married Shiva of my own accord,
Why do you protest his long, matted hair?
His ash-smeared body, his poisonous snakes?
Why do you launch into this colonial diatribe
Against his tribal ways?’ 
Why couldn’t you throw the ball in his court,
Saying:
‘I thought you were a gentleman.
When and how did you turn so rough and crude?
And how did you get to be so audaciously arrogant?’ 
Your father’s tongue-lashing had left you stunned.  
Was it the suddenness of his assault?   
Or the aggression of his repulsive, boorish ways,
That had really left you so completely dazed?
Was it a little girl’s timidity, you’d grown up with?  
Or a refusal of a stubborn child to raise her voice?   
Did you lose your nerve at the last minute, the way some women do?
Or were you tiptoeing to reach your father’s ears,
Pecking his approval as you always do?
Perhaps, you’d more faith in your father’s munificence
And not so much in your husband’s wisdom, 
Perhaps, you’d internalized your husband’s rage
Or was it just an overpowering suicidal instinct?
Whatever it was,  
Why did you set yourself aflame?  
Why did you reduce yourself to ashes? 
Crippling the entire womanhood,  
You chose a softer option,
Taking your life in your hands,
You went away.  
Why didn’t you think of millions of daughters you have,
Who continue to burn in the flames?  
Why didn’t you think of them?
What will they do when the moment comes?
Who will they turn to in their own distress? 
Each time, they raise their hands to pray?
Won’t they weaken in their resolve the way you did?
How will they feel inspired by someone,
Who lost faith in her own powers? 
Who failed to protect her honour and dignity? 
O Shiva! O Shiva!
You were not slighted by your father,
Your own cowardice it was that ruined it all for you,       
And for all those who could have been saved,
No, you certainly have no place in the pantheon,   
Oh, you must have been Shiva’s concubine! 

Saturday, November 20, 2010

My father died twice

I’d thought, we all die once
But I was wrong
My father died twice.  
First time,
A sudden heart attack
Flattened him to the ground
As he stood watching over the pot
His morning tea coming to a slow boil
His patience cracked, and something snapped;
When my mother walked into the kitchen
She thought he was lying supine
In a somewhat awkward, stiff posture,
Doing his morning yoga
Or prostrating before an unknown God;   
No time to rush him to the hospital
Death had called, unbidden, dragging him away.
All his life he'd wished to die,
A willing martyr to no cause,
But when it finally did strike
It was as though he lay protesting,
Begging and pleading, not to take him away.
My mother had no choice, nor did we
Like obedient sons we never were, while he was alive
We had returned home to collect his ashes in an urn
To safely deposit them in the deep waters of Ganges,
Washing off all the grime of our soul
In the muddy waters;
Stepping into the orange light 
We had felt pure and sanctified.
Though bones and ashes lay clinging to our melting flesh
We had felt strangely relieved
Leaving the source of our life behind,
As though tons of lead, resting upon our breast
Had slipped away.
It was hard picking up the shards of our shattered lives;       
Learning to live without our father
Was somewhat like living in a roofless house,
Everything leaked,
Even an ordinary rain threatened to drown us
When sun beat down mercilessly
Huddled together like school children
We cried to keep ourselves warm and cheerful
Little betrayals of faith and trust
Kept our cash registers ringing through the day  
Sharp, piercing arrows of light  
So difficult to keep the count
That night seemed serene, in comparison,
Not as terrifying and spine-chilling it often is.  
Then one day,
My father returned,
As unexpectedly as he'd left.
Walking right into my heart
This time,
He found a niche, a permanent place; 
Occasionally, he’d sit there,
Frowning at my grandfather,
Kicking up a row, starting a fight,
Pulling swords out of the scabbards,
They’d often fight their battles at my expense.
Slowly their battles became fiercer.
Turning my heart into a battleground,
Father’s 'Id' milling around in futile chase,
Clashing hopelessly against grandfather’s 'Superego.'    
I watched these battles from the margins,  
Father roaring like a lion in a cage,
Grandfather staring back in impotent rage,
His rheumy eyes, darting helplessly 
Only sometimes, his religious piety seeped through
The carbuncles on my father’s flesh;
The battles raged endlessly,
Searing the edges of my heart,
Burning holes into the walls of my mind;
Phantoms danced in the dark, lonely corners
Feeding my fantasies, troubling my soul
So bad it was that I’d begun to wish
Oh, God! Why don’t you just let my father die?
Why doesn’t he just leave it to me to decide,
How to live this life, no longer mine.  
Then one night,
It happened, again
I saw the funeral of my father in a dream.  
It was as though the funeral bells rang twice.
We’ve all heard of the Second Coming of Christ
But the ‘second going’ of a mortal
Is nowhere even in the dreams of dead scriptures.     
That night, my father died again,
Now, I’m truly fatherless,
Feeling as though I’m myself, the first time ever…
A beginning of a new end, or the end of a new beginning,  
I do not know.
All I know is,
My father has died twice,
Once, the way we all do, silently
And next, with all its ceremonial trappings,
Inside the debris of my heart.  
Now if ‘anyone’ tells me,
People taste of death but once,
I laugh and snigger as I walk away,
Thinking how little we know of our ‘goings’ and ‘comings.’ 
   
      
  
     

Friday, October 22, 2010

Higher Education: Problems & Perspectives




Before I proceed any further, let me spell out the focus of my presentation. Well, my paper is tentatively titled: Higher Education: Problems & Perspectives. To put it differently, my purpose here is mainly to elaborate on the nature of problems we face in our system of Higher Education today. While delineating some of these problems, I may also dwell upon some of the causative factors that have possibly triggered these problems off. In the process, I hope, I shall also be able to point towards some antidotes we need so desperately today. I’m aware of the fact that these palliatives alone can help sustain our vision or perspective of Higher Education in near or in distant future.       
When I say that I have chosen to focus on the Problems & Perspectives of Higher Education, I’m conscious of the fact that I’m taking the liberty to make departure from the main theme of the seminar outlined for me. Ordinarily, the person who delivers a key-note address is expected to follow the brief and simply elaborate on the theme of the seminar, and here I seem to be digressing from the main theme. A word of explanation is in order. I think the organizers had chosen an extremely provocative theme for this seminar. In fact, they deserve to be complimented for taking the bull straight by the horns. There couldn’t have been a better way of phrasing the problem. So, why have I chosen to digress? Why am I singing a different tune? Let me confess that it doesn’t have so much to do with the theme as my own inability to deal with it. When I started reflecting on Higher Education: Beyond Empty Promises, I found my presentation turning into a nasty blame game. Empty promises immediately put us in mind of the politicians and the mess they have created all around us. Quite simply, I didn’t want this essay to be recriminatory or accusatory in nature. After all, in case of education, as in any other case, the buck always stops with the politicians. And why mustn’t it? 
Hasn’t the ‘politics’ in our country degenerated to abysmal depths, especially because our politicians do nothing but offer ‘empty, hollow promises’ or trot off ‘empty rhetoric’ to tell us why they can’t fulfill these promises? Whether it is price rise or corruption, good governance or electoral reforms, development of infrastructure or education for all, the successive generations of politicians have habitually been long on promises and short on delivery and performance. Politics has bred so much of cynicism in the mind of an ordinary man that he prefers to trust his own limited intelligence or resources than the proverbial fake promises of the politicians. It is precisely this kind of cynicism that I wanted to avoid in my presentation. I simply didn’t want to get into the game of charges and counter-charges. I’m of this view that if at all we have to change our system, we have to consciously move away from this reactionary mode and adopt more positive and proactive approach to things.   
Friends, let us first reflect on some of the positives we need to recognize in our system of Higher Education. Ministry of Human Resources, in its official website, claims (and we have no reason to doubt this claim) that “India has one of largest Higher Education Systems in the world.” It should not come as a surprise to anyone. After all, don’t we have one of the largest populations in the world, too? Jokes apart, this claim of the Ministry is seriously backed up by some statistics, too:      
              (i)    Universities: 224  
              (ii)   Colleges: 12, 885
              (iii) Students: 68. 47 lakhs  
             (iv)  Teachers: 4.57 lakhs  
These figures are, indeed, quite impressive, especially if we compare them with what the state of Higher Education was in India in 1947. At the time of Independence, these figures read somewhat like this:
   (i) Universities: 46 (five times) 
   (ii) Colleges: 4,258 (tripled) 
  (iii) Students: 3. 65 lakhs (23 times)
  (iv) Teachers: 0.70 lakhs (almost 6.5 times)
What do all these facts and figures point out? Clearly, they suggest that since Independence, India has made exponential progress in the field of Higher Education. We have, indeed, come a long way. Earlier our access ratio was as small as 5%, and now it has risen to 14-17%. It is another matter, that it is still pathetically low in comparison with the developed nations, where it is as high as 50%. (It is 72% for US, 56% for UK and France, 45% for Japan).   
Most of the officials in the Ministry of Human Resources or the mandarins of UGC would have us believe that this is perhaps the biggest, if not the only, challenge confronting our country today. No wonder, they are busy devising policies that might help them increase the access ratio, as though increasing it alone would put us in the bracket of the developed nations. Somehow, this is just one of the several false notions that afflict our plans and policies on Higher Education. We are keen on increasing this access ratio to 22-24% without actually ensuring that the drop-out rate decreases in the government schools and both the ‘base’ as well as the ‘quality’ of the secondary education expands and improves exponentially. Please tell me friends, if it is possible for us to think of the Higher Education or its problems in isolation of the state of primary, middle and secondary education in our country. And by doing so, aren’t we simply putting the cart before the horse? I think, we often hide behind this false logic, because either we don’t know what the real problem is or we simply don’t want to take the trouble to understand it.
Now, this has really put us in a bind, a classic Catch-22 situation. Our problem today is not to increase the access ratio or the number/quantity of the university graduates, but to improve the quality of our Higher Education. (I’m sure, the UGC experts would seriously disagree with me on this issue). In 1960s, we went in for massive expansion of colleges and universities, because our ‘socialist aim’ was to provide education to the masses, which was undoubtedly much needed then. Higher Education had to be provided to all and sundry and that too, at ludicrously low rates. It resulted, I dare say, in one of the worst experiments in quantification. All through the 1960s and 1970s, it was ‘quantity’ and not ‘quality’ that was our foremost concern. This was also the phase when the college/university teachers across the country also became highly politicized and unionized. The net result was that the ‘quality,’ quite simply, took a back seat in our scheme of things.
Now to be fair, this was certainly not the case with all the institutions of Higher Learning. If colleges and universities began to reel under the influence of proliferating numbers, other elite institutions like IITs, IIMs and premier research institutes like BARC, IIS Bangalore/.Kolkatta continued to consolidate their reputation as ‘centres of excellence.’ To a large extent, these institutions have been able to justify heavy investment the nation has made into them. On their part, our colleges/universities apparently failed to come anywhere near the standards set up by the IITs and the IIMs. So the first problem is that of numbers, which are becoming inordinately unmanageable. On the one hand, we are desperate to increase our access ratio, on the other we are finding it extremely difficult to manage the numbers we already have in our system.
Despite all the efforts of UGC and NAAC, if we have not been able to improve the ‘quality’ of higher education in our country (I’m not just making a cynical observation here, as none of our colleges/universities have made it to the Times’ list of top 200 universities in the world except, of course IITs and JNU), one of the reasons is this mismatch between the ‘quantity’ and the ‘quality.’ We seem to have forgotten the basic premise that there is an ‘inverse relationship’ between the two, and that ‘quantity’ can only be promoted at the expense of ‘quality’ or vice-versa and that both can not always be managed simultaneously as we have often tried to do, without much success. Today, we may pride ourselves on having created “one of the largest systems in the world,” but it is far from being “the best.” After all, where did we go wrong? Why have we failed to deliver on this front? What ails our system of Higher Education?
Let us not forget that the system of Higher Education, as it operates in our country today, was created largely through the efforts of our ‘colonial masters.’ British were the ones who laid the foundation of this system, first through Macaulay’s Minute on Education (1835) and later by setting up four universities namely Bombay, Madras, Calcutta and Panjab, across the length and breadth of the country. The main purpose behind setting up these universities was to promote Western ideals of modernity, progress and scientific thought among the educated elite of India and also prepare an army of babus, clerks and other petty officials for promoting establishment of the Raj. Significantly, this colonial intervention transformed our basic perceptions about the way in which we had either thought about or conceptualized the very objectives of higher education in Indian context. In the pre-colonial days, the teaching of Sanskrit and Arabic classics was often regarded as the hall-mark of Higher Education, while the official business was conducted in the Persian language. At that stage, education was certainly an elitist discourse, confined to a small minority, but there was a definite connect between the ‘self’ and ‘society.’ It was an individual’s responsibility to engage with his tradition; interpret, analyze and understand it, and also become, if possible, a vehicle for its transmission and dissemination. I’m neither eulogizing the pre-colonial framework of education nor proposing that we return to it, as either of these gestures would be both retrogressive and anti-history. But what I would like to impress upon you is that this colonial intervention has definitely affected us adversely, damaging not only our notions of ‘self’ and ‘society,’ but also that of polity and cultural identity.
If you ask me: In what way has Macaulay’s Minute affected us, I would say, it brought about a basic change in the way in which we have thought of ourselves and our society. In the pre-colonial Indian society, an organic relationship existed between ‘self’ and ‘society,’ which Macaulay changed into an artificial, mechanical one. If his emphasis on English education and science, on the one hand, ensured our march towards the ideals of progress and modernization, on the other, it also created a major ‘disconnect’ between ‘us,’ our tradition and our society. It threw us into a state of self-alienation, from which, I dare say, we have still not been able to recover, and shall probably never will. This is how we lulled ourselves into a state of “cultural inferiorization,” which continues to be the defining feature of our society in general, and our ‘intellectuals’ in particular, even today.
If you ask me, what have we gained in the process, I would say, we have neither been able to participate in the project of modernization (because education alone doesn’t help there; the society, too, has to undergo transformation, especially in terms of modes of production, which apparently hasn’t happened in our context) nor garner the benefits of modernization (because ‘self’ and ‘society’ have worked at variance with each other). This also explains why we have ‘crisis of self’ at the individual level, ‘crisis of relevance’ in our educational institutions and ‘crisis of character and credibility’ in our society. Corruption, obsessive pursuit of money and power or both, culture of crass, almost vulgar consumerism are only some of the manifest symptoms of the malaise that afflicts our society today. I have no hesitation in saying that to a large extent, our system of education also suffers from the very same ills that otherwise afflict our society today.
So far, I have restricted myself to a macro-picture of Higher Education in India, which could have been mediated by invoking the past or through an overarching historical perspective. Some of the paradoxes of our situation that have emerged out of our discussion may broadly be summarized as follows: (i) Colonial versus Post-colonial approach to Education (ii) Organic versus Mechanical relationship between Self and Society (iii) Quantity versus Quality.   
Now as we turn to the present state of Higher Education, I would like to map out a micro picture, too, which, I’m afraid, shall be part empirical and experiential and part sociological in nature. After the introduction of the market economy and liberalization in 1991, our focus on education (both school and college/university) has undergone a sudden, paradigm shift. We are now increasingly talking in terms of the knowledge-driven economy, high degree of quality consciousness, appraisals and evaluations, higher returns on human capital, teachers as service providers and the students as conscious and self-aware consumers. One of the major problems with globalization is that it has further accentuated the ‘disconnect’ between the self’ and ‘society,’ especially in the field of education. By offering attractive salaries, our government is proposing to attract some of the ‘best minds’ into the field of teaching, which has, over the years, become one of the last priorities among the educated youngsters.
Some time back, a survey was conducted across the country in which the youngsters were asked to list their priorities in terms of career options; teaching, for your information, dear friends, figured way down, somewhere close to number 7 or 8 in a list of ten options. Doesn’t this reflect a kind of cynicism, nay disillusionment, the youngsters often feel towards the process of Higher Education itself? If our government thinks that merely by offering fat salaries, they can hope to draw the ‘best minds’ into college or university teaching, they are sadly mistaken. Unless we strengthen our procedures and tone up our methods of recruitment, the ‘wrong’ kind of people shall continue to enter into our colleges/universities and continue to damage our institutions from within.
Can we hope to create a situation where the appointments are made strictly on merit and not on the recommendation of one political ‘bigwig’ or another? Can we hope to create a climate in our colleges and universities, where only talent (I mean real talent! If you understand what I mean) is patronized and nurtured, not mediocrity as is the case today? Where have all the committed teachers gone, for whom teaching used to be a way of life, who never sought any gratification outside their vocation and who never counted hours or money when it came to shaping the minds or lives of the youngsters. I’m not saying that such teachers have already become dinosaurs (an extinct species), but most certainly, such teachers are in a hopeless minority. And this trend can certainly not be reversed by simply offering attractive packages or salaries. More money doesn’t mean more commitment. Only those who don’t understand human nature offer such naïve prescriptions!
We all know that one of the major crises of Higher Education in India is the resource crunch. All our institutions are fund-starved. Over the years, though our government has been trying to convince us that it is constantly increasing its outlay on Education, but despite all its tall claims, this amount remains as low as 6-7% of the GDP. Physical expansion of the educational institutions, steep escalation in the salaries of the teachers and the growing need for infrastructure have only contributed to this financial mess. It is ironic, isn’t it, that this crisis has become more pronounced and grave in the times of globalization. Through the process of globalization, I strongly feel, we should have been able to look at the other models of funding available in the developing countries, where the State Funding only constitutes one small proportion of the total corpus, most of which comes either from the local community, the private sector and/or the individual benefactors/philanthropists. In the West, they have a long and established tradition of offering very generous and liberal donations/grants to the institutions of Higher Learning. Rather than do something of this nature, we Indians prefer to set up an institution of our own, thus promoting the cause of commercialization, not of education. Rather than sustain and nurture good colleges and universities, we prefer to create new institutions, thus reducing education to a marketable, profitable and commodified enterprise. Why can’t we borrow some of the healthy practices from the West and transform our ailing institutions into ‘centres of excellence’? Privatization of education is not the answer, but private or community funding of the government institutions certainly is.
In the last ten years or so, we have witnessed unprecedented growth of the private universities in our country. Our experience has, however, proved that these universities are no more than teaching shops, where degrees are bought and sold among those who have the necessary purchasing power to do so. No wonder, the UPA government has been forced to do a re-think on the status of ‘deemed university’ hurriedly granted to several such institutions of dubious variety. The main argument of those who favour privatization of Higher Education is that it would give rise to a state of healthy competition, thus raising the quality as well as the standards, both within and without the private universities. If you allow me, I’d say, this, again, is facetious, a typical case of circular logic. The private universities only stress on the state-of-the-art infrastructure, but are rarely ever ready to hire the best people available in the field. Under such circumstances, how can they ever hope to match the quality and standards of long-established universities and what is the guarantee that the money power will not play a vital role in undermining their standards and/or quality. As it is, the students pay exorbitant fees to get whatever they do get from such institutions in the name of education.
Of late, we have also been hearing of how the education sector shall be thrown open to the foreign universities, too. My understanding is that once they enter the Indian market, the scene would become, not less chaotic and disorderly, but more so. If nothing else, at least, the multiple inequities of our society, whether they are social or economic, class or caste-based, shall become more pronounced. To my mind, that’s a warning signal, not a welcome sign. As it is, we are living through a situation where there are huge gaps and fissures in our education system, in terms of rural, semi-urban, urban and metropolis. Do we want to further exacerbate them by throwing our doors open to the foreign universities? Then there is also this all-important question of what kind of foreign universities shall ultimately enter the Indian market? It is highly doubtful if Oxford, Cambridge, Harvard, Yale or Stanford would ever like to set up their campuses in India. If we are only going to invite second or third rate foreign universities to our land, aren’t we better off with our universities, regardless of their performance or grade?
If I have to sum up some of the paradoxes that define the micro picture of Higher Education in our country, I’d say these are  
(i) Global versus Local  
(ii) Rural versus Urban versus Foreign
(iii) High Salaries versus Low Performance
(iv) Low Fee Structures and Low Funding versus Growing Expenditure on Higher Education
Well, this was my way of sharing some of the ideas with all of you. Let me confess that in this presentation, I have not attempted to analyze all the problems of Higher Education threadbare, something which is not within my ken really. All I have tried to do here is to give you an outline of some of the problems, on which you may be able to reflect over the next two days. I’m sure you’ll go far beyond the limited range of questions I have managed to draw your attention to. After all, the success of a seminar depends not so much on the way the participants follow the several leads of the key-note speaker, but how and in what different ways they make a departure from the questions he may have raised. If this surcharged atmosphere in this room is anything to go by, I’d say that this seminar shall not only open up new vistas, but also offer new perspectives to our policy planners. With this confidence, I thank the organizers, once again, and wish them all a resounding success.   
_____________________________________

This paper was presented as a Keynote address during a National Seminar held at Government College of Education, Bhiwani on February 17-18, 2010. 

Higher Education: Problems & Perspectives



Before I proceed any further, let me spell out the focus of my presentation. Well, my paper is tentatively titled: Higher Education: Problems & Perspectives. To put it differently, my purpose here is mainly to elaborate on the nature of problems we face in our system of Higher Education today. While delineating some of these problems, I may also dwell upon some of the causative factors that have possibly triggered these problems off. In the process, I hope, I shall also be able to point towards some antidotes we need so desperately today. I’m aware of the fact that these palliatives alone can help sustain our vision or perspective of Higher Education in near or in distant future.       
When I say that I have chosen to focus on the Problems & Perspectives of Higher Education, I’m conscious of the fact that I’m taking the liberty to make departure from the main theme of the seminar outlined for me. Ordinarily, the person who delivers a key-note address is expected to follow the brief and simply elaborate on the theme of the seminar, and here I seem to be digressing from the main theme. A word of explanation is in order. I think the organizers had chosen an extremely provocative theme for this seminar. In fact, they deserve to be complimented for taking the bull straight by the horns. There couldn’t have been a better way of phrasing the problem. So, why have I chosen to digress? Why am I singing a different tune? Let me confess that it doesn’t have so much to do with the theme as my own inability to deal with it. When I started reflecting on Higher Education: Beyond Empty Promises, I found my presentation turning into a nasty blame game. Empty promises immediately put us in mind of the politicians and the mess they have created all around us. Quite simply, I didn’t want this essay to be recriminatory or accusatory in nature. After all, in case of education, as in any other case, the buck always stops with the politicians. And why mustn’t it? 
Hasn’t the ‘politics’ in our country degenerated to abysmal depths, especially because our politicians do nothing but offer ‘empty, hollow promises’ or trot off ‘empty rhetoric’ to tell us why they can’t fulfill these promises? Whether it is price rise or corruption, good governance or electoral reforms, development of infrastructure or education for all, the successive generations of politicians have habitually been long on promises and short on delivery and performance. Politics has bred so much of cynicism in the mind of an ordinary man that he prefers to trust his own limited intelligence or resources than the proverbial fake promises of the politicians. It is precisely this kind of cynicism that I wanted to avoid in my presentation. I simply didn’t want to get into the game of charges and counter-charges. I’m of this view that if at all we have to change our system, we have to consciously move away from this reactionary mode and adopt more positive and proactive approach to things.   
Friends, let us first reflect on some of the positives we need to recognize in our system of Higher Education. Ministry of Human Resources, in its official website, claims (and we have no reason to doubt this claim) that “India has one of largest Higher Education Systems in the world.” It should not come as a surprise to anyone. After all, don’t we have one of the largest populations in the world, too? Jokes apart, this claim of the Ministry is seriously backed up by some statistics, too:      
(i)                  Universities: 224  
(ii)                Colleges: 12, 885
(iii)               Students: 68. 47 lakhs  
(iv)              Teachers: 4.57 lakhs  
These figures are, indeed, quite impressive, especially if we compare them with what the state of Higher Education was in India in 1947. At the time of Independence, these figures read somewhat like this:
(i) Universities: 46 (five times) 
(ii) Colleges: 4,258 (tripled) 
(iii) Students: 3. 65 lakhs (23 times)
(iv) Teachers: 0.70 lakhs (almost 6.5 times)
What do all these facts and figures point out? Clearly, they suggest that since Independence, India has made exponential progress in the field of Higher Education. We have, indeed, come a long way. Earlier our access ratio was as small as 5%, and now it has risen to 14-17%. It is another matter, that it is still pathetically low in comparison with the developed nations, where it is as high as 50%. (It is 72% for US, 56% for UK and France, 45% for Japan).   
Most of the officials in the Ministry of Human Resources or the mandarins of UGC would have us believe that this is perhaps the biggest, if not the only, challenge confronting our country today. No wonder, they are busy devising policies that might help them increase the access ratio, as though increasing it alone would put us in the bracket of the developed nations. Somehow, this is just one of the several false notions that afflict our plans and policies on Higher Education. We are keen on increasing this access ratio to 22-24% without actually ensuring that the drop-out rate decreases in the government schools and both the ‘base’ as well as the ‘quality’ of the secondary education expands and improves exponentially. Please tell me friends, if it is possible for us to think of the Higher Education or its problems in isolation of the state of primary, middle and secondary education in our country. And by doing so, aren’t we simply putting the cart before the horse? I think, we often hide behind this false logic, because either we don’t know what the real problem is or we simply don’t want to take the trouble to understand it.
Now, this has really put us in a bind, a classic Catch-22 situation. Our problem today is not to increase the access ratio or the number/quantity of the university graduates, but to improve the quality of our Higher Education. (I’m sure, the UGC experts would seriously disagree with me on this issue). In 1960s, we went in for massive expansion of colleges and universities, because our ‘socialist aim’ was to provide education to the masses, which was undoubtedly much needed then. Higher Education had to be provided to all and sundry and that too, at ludicrously low rates. It resulted, I dare say, in one of the worst experiments in quantification. All through the 1960s and 1970s, it was ‘quantity’ and not ‘quality’ that was our foremost concern. This was also the phase when the college/university teachers across the country also became highly politicized and unionized. The net result was that the ‘quality,’ quite simply, took a back seat in our scheme of things.
Now to be fair, this was certainly not the case with all the institutions of Higher Learning. If colleges and universities began to reel under the influence of proliferating numbers, other elite institutions like IITs, IIMs and premier research institutes like BARC, IIS Bangalore/.Kolkatta continued to consolidate their reputation as ‘centres of excellence.’ To a large extent, these institutions have been able to justify heavy investment the nation has made into them. On their part, our colleges/universities apparently failed to come anywhere near the standards set up by the IITs and the IIMs. So the first problem is that of numbers, which are becoming inordinately unmanageable. On the one hand, we are desperate to increase our access ratio, on the other we are finding it extremely difficult to manage the numbers we already have in our system.
Despite all the efforts of UGC and NAAC, if we have not been able to improve the ‘quality’ of higher education in our country (I’m not just making a cynical observation here, as none of our colleges/universities have made it to the Times’ list of top 200 universities in the world except, of course IITs and JNU), one of the reasons is this mismatch between the ‘quantity’ and the ‘quality.’ We seem to have forgotten the basic premise that there is an ‘inverse relationship’ between the two, and that ‘quantity’ can only be promoted at the expense of ‘quality’ or vice-versa and that both can not always be managed simultaneously as we have often tried to do, without much success. Today, we may pride ourselves on having created “one of the largest systems in the world,” but it is far from being “the best.” After all, where did we go wrong? Why have we failed to deliver on this front? What ails our system of Higher Education?
Let us not forget that the system of Higher Education, as it operates in our country today, was created largely through the efforts of our ‘colonial masters.’ British were the ones who laid the foundation of this system, first through Macaulay’s Minute on Education (1835) and later by setting up four universities namely Bombay, Madras, Calcutta and Panjab, across the length and breadth of the country. The main purpose behind setting up these universities was to promote Western ideals of modernity, progress and scientific thought among the educated elite of India and also prepare an army of babus, clerks and other petty officials for promoting establishment of the Raj. Significantly, this colonial intervention transformed our basic perceptions about the way in which we had either thought about or conceptualized the very objectives of higher education in Indian context. In the pre-colonial days, the teaching of Sanskrit and Arabic classics was often regarded as the hall-mark of Higher Education, while the official business was conducted in the Persian language. At that stage, education was certainly an elitist discourse, confined to a small minority, but there was a definite connect between the ‘self’ and ‘society.’ It was an individual’s responsibility to engage with his tradition; interpret, analyze and understand it, and also become, if possible, a vehicle for its transmission and dissemination. I’m neither eulogizing the pre-colonial framework of education nor proposing that we return to it, as either of these gestures would be both retrogressive and anti-history. But what I would like to impress upon you is that this colonial intervention has definitely affected us adversely, damaging not only our notions of ‘self’ and ‘society,’ but also that of polity and cultural identity.
If you ask me: In what way has Macaulay’s Minute affected us, I would say, it brought about a basic change in the way in which we have thought of ourselves and our society. In the pre-colonial Indian society, an organic relationship existed between ‘self’ and ‘society,’ which Macaulay changed into an artificial, mechanical one. If his emphasis on English education and science, on the one hand, ensured our march towards the ideals of progress and modernization, on the other, it also created a major ‘disconnect’ between ‘us,’ our tradition and our society. It threw us into a state of self-alienation, from which, I dare say, we have still not been able to recover, and shall probably never will. This is how we lulled ourselves into a state of “cultural inferiorization,” which continues to be the defining feature of our society in general, and our ‘intellectuals’ in particular, even today.
If you ask me, what have we gained in the process, I would say, we have neither been able to participate in the project of modernization (because education alone doesn’t help there; the society, too, has to undergo transformation, especially in terms of modes of production, which apparently hasn’t happened in our context) nor garner the benefits of modernization (because ‘self’ and ‘society’ have worked at variance with each other). This also explains why we have ‘crisis of self’ at the individual level, ‘crisis of relevance’ in our educational institutions and ‘crisis of character and credibility’ in our society. Corruption, obsessive pursuit of money and power or both, culture of crass, almost vulgar consumerism are only some of the manifest symptoms of the malaise that afflicts our society today. I have no hesitation in saying that to a large extent, our system of education also suffers from the very same ills that otherwise afflict our society today.
So far, I have restricted myself to a macro-picture of Higher Education in India, which could have been mediated by invoking the past or through an overarching historical perspective. Some of the paradoxes of our situation that have emerged out of our discussion may broadly be summarized as follows: (i) Colonial versus Postcolonial approach to Education (ii) Organic versus Mechanical relationship between Self and Society (iii) Quantity versus Quality.   
Now as we turn to the present state of Higher Education, I would like to map out a micro picture, too, which, I’m afraid, shall be part empirical and experiential and part sociological in nature. After the introduction of the market economy and liberalization in 1991, our focus on education (both school and college/university) has undergone a sudden, paradigm shift. We are now increasingly talking in terms of the knowledge-driven economy, high degree of quality consciousness, appraisals and evaluations, higher returns on human capital, teachers as service providers and the students as conscious and self-aware consumers. One of the major problems with globalization is that it has further accentuated the ‘disconnect’ between the self’ and ‘society,’ especially in the field of education. By offering attractive salaries, our government is proposing to attract some of the ‘best minds’ into the field of teaching, which has, over the years, become one of the last priorities among the educated youngsters.
Some time back, a survey was conducted across the country in which the youngsters were asked to list their priorities in terms of career options; teaching, for your information, dear friends, figured way down, somewhere close to number 7 or 8 in a list of ten options. Doesn’t this reflect a kind of cynicism, nay disillusionment, the youngsters often feel towards the process of Higher Education itself? If our government thinks that merely by offering fat salaries, they can hope to draw the ‘best minds’ into college or university teaching, they are sadly mistaken. Unless we strengthen our procedures and tone up our methods of recruitment, the ‘wrong’ kind of people shall continue to enter into our colleges/universities and continue to damage our institutions from within.
Can we hope to create a situation where the appointments are made strictly on merit and not on the recommendation of one political ‘bigwig’ or another? Can we hope to create a climate in our colleges and universities, where only talent (I mean real talent! If you understand what I mean) is patronized and nurtured, not mediocrity as is the case today? Where have all the committed teachers gone, for whom teaching used to be a way of life, who never sought any gratification outside their vocation and who never counted hours or money when it came to shaping the minds or lives of the youngsters. I’m not saying that such teachers have already become dinosaurs (an extinct species), but most certainly, such teachers are in a hopeless minority. And this trend can certainly not be reversed by simply offering attractive packages or salaries. More money doesn’t mean more commitment. Only those who don’t understand human nature offer such naïve prescriptions!
We all know that one of the major crises of Higher Education in India is the resource crunch. All our institutions are fund-starved. Over the years, though our government has been trying to convince us that it is constantly increasing its outlay on Education, but despite all its tall claims, this amount remains as low as 6-7% of the GDP. Physical expansion of the educational institutions, steep escalation in the salaries of the teachers and the growing need for infrastructure have only contributed to this financial mess. It is ironic, isn’t it, that this crisis has become more pronounced and grave in the times of globalization. Through the process of globalization, I strongly feel, we should have been able to look at the other models of funding available in the developing countries, where the State Funding only constitutes one small proportion of the total corpus, most of which comes either from the local community, the private sector and/or the individual benefactors/philanthropists. In the West, they have a long and established tradition of offering very generous and liberal donations/grants to the institutions of Higher Learning. Rather than do something of this nature, we Indians prefer to set up an institution of our own, thus promoting the cause of commercialization, not of education. Rather than sustain and nurture good colleges and universities, we prefer to create new institutions, thus reducing education to a marketable, profitable and commodified enterprise. Why can’t we borrow some of the healthy practices from the West and transform our ailing institutions into ‘centres of excellence’? Privatization of education is not the answer, but private or community funding of the government institutions certainly is.
In the last ten years or so, we have witnessed unprecedented growth of the private universities in our country. Our experience has, however, proved that these universities are no more than teaching shops, where degrees are bought and sold among those who have the necessary purchasing power to do so. No wonder, the UPA government has been forced to do a re-think on the status of ‘deemed university’ hurriedly granted to several such institutions of dubious variety. The main argument of those who favour privatization of Higher Education is that it would give rise to a state of healthy competition, thus raising the quality as well as the standards, both within and without the private universities. If you allow me, I’d say, this, again, is facetious, a typical case of circular logic. The private universities only stress on the state-of-the-art infrastructure, but are rarely ever ready to hire the best people available in the field. Under such circumstances, how can they ever hope to match the quality and standards of long-established universities and what is the guarantee that the money power will not play a vital role in undermining their standards and/or quality. As it is, the students pay exorbitant fees to get whatever they do get from such institutions in the name of education.
Of late, we have also been hearing of how the education sector shall be thrown open to the foreign universities, too. My understanding is that once they enter the Indian market, the scene would become, not less chaotic and disorderly, but more so. If nothing else, at least, the multiple inequities of our society, whether they are social or economic, class or caste-based, shall become more pronounced. To my mind, that’s a warning signal, not a welcome sign. As it is, we are living through a situation where there are huge gaps and fissures in our education system, in terms of rural, semi-urban, urban and metropolis. Do we want to further exacerbate them by throwing our doors open to the foreign universities? Then there is also this all-important question of what kind of foreign universities shall ultimately enter the Indian market? It is highly doubtful if Oxford, Cambridge, Harvard, Yale or Stanford would ever like to set up their campuses in India. If we are only going to invite second or third rate foreign universities to our land, aren’t we better off with our universities, regardless of their performance or grade?
If I have to sum up some of the paradoxes that define the micro picture of Higher Education in our country, I’d say these are  
(i) Global versus Local  
(ii) Rural versus Urban versus Foreign
(iii) High Salaries versus Low Performance
(iv) Low Fee Structures and Low Funding versus Growing Expenditure on Higher Education
Well, this was my way of sharing some of the ideas with all of you. Let me confess that in this presentation, I have not attempted to analyze all the problems of Higher Education threadbare, something which is not within my ken really. All I have tried to do here is to give you an outline of some of the problems, on which you may be able to reflect over the next two days. I’m sure you’ll go far beyond the limited range of questions I have managed to draw your attention to. After all, the success of a seminar depends not so much on the way the participants follow the several leads of the key-note speaker, but how and in what different ways they make a departure from the questions he may have raised. If this surcharged atmosphere in this room is anything to go by, I’d say that this seminar shall not only open up new vistas, but also offer new perspectives to our policy planners. With this confidence, I thank the organizers, once again, and wish them all a resounding success.   
   _______________________________________________________________________
This paper was presented as a Keynote address during a National Seminar held at Government College of Education, Bhiwani on February 17-18, 2010.