Nagarjuna sagar is a small town that opened vistas to a vaster world in which I lived till then. Memories crowd. Meritorious students from all over the state joined here based on entrance test conducted statewide. Here my awareness of world beyond grew and many students very bright studied there and competitive spirit spurred us on to perform better in our studies as well as extracurricular activities. Here were made some lasting friendships. Also common were petty quarrels and hiding away of one another’s note books during exams. Students used to burn midnight oil or do night outs in academic pursuit. They used to go on long walks and read even while walking. Though they were cocooned in their dormitories, their determination to make it big was unmistakable. I certainly feel some of them might have reached great heights in their respective fields.. On a specific day of holy festival we went around the quarters of our teachers and put even our hand marks on the walls of houses of some of our teachers whom we couldn’t find at their home for one or another reason. Life was innocent, exciting, nasty, mean but not brutal. Different specific paths of life took us into different alleys and as it is said the same Sun appeared in different ways to each one of us.
Here I shall mention my Telugu teacher Goli Venkata Ramaiah who made me aware of my interest and proficiency in Telugu. Once he spoke in a meeting in which Mahakavi Sri Sri participated. To attend this meeting, students walked four miles to hill colony. Unfortunately I don’t remember what Sri Sri spoke there , But Sri Venkata Ramaiah, while referring to Tolstoy made an unforgettable remark that
“ Tolstoy is tallstoy but not smallstoy.”. Here also I attended some Ashtavadhanams held where the skill of Avadhani held us spellbound. There was also a commerce teacher who encouraged students in literary activities. There was another English teacher who had been there for a while and who regaled us with his recitation of poems related to the story of Pravara from Manucharitra. Our reached of Civics, Sri Raghavacharyulu was very fluent speaker and used to write articles for newspapers.
Once we visited the Buddhist museum on Nagarjuna konda. The journey on an engine boat was exhilarating. Though the scorching sun above the head teased us ,the maaza cool drinks while boarding the boat cooled us. Various sculpture and shreds of pots in the museum spoke of history and inculcated historical interest. every child should see it at least once to feel the pulse of history coursing through the veins of our country. I visited Sagar again after ten years in connection with an agitation against a nuclear plant supposed to be built there at a cost to environment. Fortunately, this nuclear plant did never come up there to the benefit of people of surrounding villages.
I know this account is only like a small boat on a lake of memory. There were many other things, many stories , many people, many emotions. Now I understand how vast is reality and how small is one’s engagement or memory or understanding of it.
Here I shall mention my Telugu teacher Goli Venkata Ramaiah who made me aware of my interest and proficiency in Telugu. Once he spoke in a meeting in which Mahakavi Sri Sri participated. To attend this meeting, students walked four miles to hill colony. Unfortunately I don’t remember what Sri Sri spoke there , But Sri Venkata Ramaiah, while referring to Tolstoy made an unforgettable remark that
“ Tolstoy is tallstoy but not smallstoy.”. Here also I attended some Ashtavadhanams held where the skill of Avadhani held us spellbound. There was also a commerce teacher who encouraged students in literary activities. There was another English teacher who had been there for a while and who regaled us with his recitation of poems related to the story of Pravara from Manucharitra. Our reached of Civics, Sri Raghavacharyulu was very fluent speaker and used to write articles for newspapers.
Once we visited the Buddhist museum on Nagarjuna konda. The journey on an engine boat was exhilarating. Though the scorching sun above the head teased us ,the maaza cool drinks while boarding the boat cooled us. Various sculpture and shreds of pots in the museum spoke of history and inculcated historical interest. every child should see it at least once to feel the pulse of history coursing through the veins of our country. I visited Sagar again after ten years in connection with an agitation against a nuclear plant supposed to be built there at a cost to environment. Fortunately, this nuclear plant did never come up there to the benefit of people of surrounding villages.
I know this account is only like a small boat on a lake of memory. There were many other things, many stories , many people, many emotions. Now I understand how vast is reality and how small is one’s engagement or memory or understanding of it.
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