Riveting reminiscences

THIS NONAGENARIAN'S mental agility and zest leave you zapped. "Arthritis is my only problem.... otherwise I am in perfect health", smiles Kokila Kalahasti, a picture of poise, dignity and grace.

An educationist for half a century and more, a psychologist, social worker, playwright, singer, veena player, all these together with proficiency in all kinds of household chores from cooking to tailoring and housekeeping, 91-year old Kokila Kalahasti has always been active. The pace and extent of her activities may have come down, but her alertness is intact. "I still cut and stitch my blouses," she says.

As a woman with very forward views, Kokila took over as the headmistress of Sarada Vidyalaya School in T.Nagar when she was just 27, and continued for three decades, after which she worked as correspondent and secretary of seven of Ramakrishna Mission's institutions for another decade and a half. "Sister Subbulakshmi first began Sarada Vidyalaya for widows, unmarried women and destitute women. "The plight of widows and single women in those days was abominable. With no money, education or social status they were an ostracised lot", Kokila goes on. So Sister Subbulakshmi wanted them to live life as individuals in their own right.Thus Sarada Vidyalaya was born and the institution was later handed over to the Ramakrishna Mission. "When Sister asked me to take over as Chief of this Centre for women, I was apprehensive because the widows and deserted women there were my age or even older than I was." Kokila's father, a retired teacher himself, encouraged her to take up the post. She did.... and after that there was no looking back.

Witnessing the woe-filled circumstances under which women sought refuge at Sarada Vidyalaya in those days probably made the young Kokila very wary of marriage itself. Her parents who were progressive in thought, did not force her. "And remember, those were the days when child marriage was a norm and remaining single was scandalous...", Kokila explains.

It was only when she was around 30 that she decided to get married. Kalahasti, her husband was also a teacher, at the Madras Christian College School. "I have two widows at home - my sister and sister-in-law. At no point should you hurt them", he told her.

Service is in Kokila's blood and there has always been empathy in her approach. So "Yes", she said and lived so too. And next when he teased her with the query "Will you give up your job if I ask you to...?" "Yes again", she responded... "if you promise to take care of my parents." They remained a made-for-each-other couple till he passed away in 1974. They were childless, but every student in the school was her own.

Having been trained in child psychology by none other than Madam Montessori herself, Kokila considers corporal punishment as horrendous as crucifixion. "Children are bound to be mischievous... it is part of growing up," she states. Never once in her career has she raised her hand to beat a child "My strongest reprimand would be... 'Did you really do it? I didn't expect it from you.' That was enough to make any child feel remorseful", says Kokila. She would learn the background of the erring student to understand his behaviour and take gentle redressal measures.

She was assisted by a very cooperative band of teachers, she says. "I was lucky to have such people around me and as a head I knew their psyche too," she smiles. Yes.... praising them when they deserved it, she always did in public. And when criticism was warranted it was only in private. A healthy approach that would always work.

Very religious by nature, Kokila began to read the Bhagavad Gita at the age of 12. The strict, disciplined atmosphere at home helped Kokila excel in various areas of work and worship. "If I am up and about at five in the morning even today it is because of the way I was brought up," she says.

A gold medalist in college, (she won it for social service), this amiable personality draws people to her. Her students still visit her and even recently she attended the diamond jubilee celebrations of her institution. Such is the bond.

"One day, I saw two students standing in the corridor and looking at me intently. 'What's the matter?" I asked, as I walked up to them. 'We were talking about you ma'am... we want you to live for a 100 years', the boys said and ran away," she chuckles, but her eyes turn moist. This happened 40 years ago.

As you take leave, you begin to wish that the boys' words come true.

MALATHI RANGARAJAN

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