<p>I tried to sidle past the man by hiding behind my tall older brothers but he blocked my way and rapped out-“What’s a+b whole squared?” I stared at him blankly. I had been reciting the Algebra formula all the way but at the opportune moment, my memory failed me. Suddenly, the man’s features softened, I saw a twinkle in his eye and it all came back to me in a flash! “a square plus b square plus 2ab,” I blurted out in a rush. His face broke into a wide grin and he stood aside to let me pass.<br /><br />This was decades ago in Kolkata and my siblings and I were entering the Birla Academy of Art and Culture which screened educational films for children. The films were for high school students so small children were discouraged from attending. My older brothers used to watch these films every Saturday (for the princely sum of 25 paise per ticket) and that day they had decided to take their younger sisters along. <br /><br />The man at the entrance used to admit only those children who could answer his “high school syllabus” questions. It was just a joke on his part but my brothers had taken the precaution of making me – the youngest amongst us – mug up the formula before coming. (It was the man’s favourite question!)<br /><br />On that day, the film was a medical story about a kidney transplant and I was fascinated. At that moment I decided that I would become a doctor when I grew up and save people’s lives. That didn’t happen, of course, but it was an inspiring film, nonetheless. <br />Those were the days when there was no television. The only way we could watch educational films was by attending such shows or by watching the documentaries before feature films. <br /><br />Within a few years, TV arrived in our home and we could watch documentaries and wildlife films on Doordarshan. There is much to be said in favour of visual media. Not just for children, but even for adults, such a form of learning was more attractive and easier to grasp than reading books. Then came the cable TV and we were engulfed by a flood of channels. There were so many shows and so much variety that we were spoiled for choice. <br /><br />When my children grew up, they naturally took TV for granted. It was a great babysitter for them when we were busy. When our elder son was about six-years-old, my husband took him to a cinema hall to watch a film. The child couldn’t believe the size of the screen. He watched with his mouth agape and when he came home, he rushed to tell his little brother all about the “Giant TV” he had just seen.<br /><br />But the small screens were what hooked them as they grew up – first TV, then video games, next the personal computers and laptops and now it is their smartphones which do everything except ironing and walking the dog!</p>
<p>I tried to sidle past the man by hiding behind my tall older brothers but he blocked my way and rapped out-“What’s a+b whole squared?” I stared at him blankly. I had been reciting the Algebra formula all the way but at the opportune moment, my memory failed me. Suddenly, the man’s features softened, I saw a twinkle in his eye and it all came back to me in a flash! “a square plus b square plus 2ab,” I blurted out in a rush. His face broke into a wide grin and he stood aside to let me pass.<br /><br />This was decades ago in Kolkata and my siblings and I were entering the Birla Academy of Art and Culture which screened educational films for children. The films were for high school students so small children were discouraged from attending. My older brothers used to watch these films every Saturday (for the princely sum of 25 paise per ticket) and that day they had decided to take their younger sisters along. <br /><br />The man at the entrance used to admit only those children who could answer his “high school syllabus” questions. It was just a joke on his part but my brothers had taken the precaution of making me – the youngest amongst us – mug up the formula before coming. (It was the man’s favourite question!)<br /><br />On that day, the film was a medical story about a kidney transplant and I was fascinated. At that moment I decided that I would become a doctor when I grew up and save people’s lives. That didn’t happen, of course, but it was an inspiring film, nonetheless. <br />Those were the days when there was no television. The only way we could watch educational films was by attending such shows or by watching the documentaries before feature films. <br /><br />Within a few years, TV arrived in our home and we could watch documentaries and wildlife films on Doordarshan. There is much to be said in favour of visual media. Not just for children, but even for adults, such a form of learning was more attractive and easier to grasp than reading books. Then came the cable TV and we were engulfed by a flood of channels. There were so many shows and so much variety that we were spoiled for choice. <br /><br />When my children grew up, they naturally took TV for granted. It was a great babysitter for them when we were busy. When our elder son was about six-years-old, my husband took him to a cinema hall to watch a film. The child couldn’t believe the size of the screen. He watched with his mouth agape and when he came home, he rushed to tell his little brother all about the “Giant TV” he had just seen.<br /><br />But the small screens were what hooked them as they grew up – first TV, then video games, next the personal computers and laptops and now it is their smartphones which do everything except ironing and walking the dog!</p>
