Rasam and sathumudu

It is with reference to the article on rasam and ­sathumudu. I hope it will be of interest to readers:

There is a city called Madras

The home of the curry and dhal

Where Iyers speak to Iyengars

And Iyengars speak only to God..

T. Rajagopalan
Former Education Correspondent
The Hindu

Knuckle and Knockout Your Customer

“Dear Customer,

Credit turnover in your account xxxyz exceeds the Threshold Limit. Please visit nearby branch to avoid digital blocking of account – Ignominious Bank”

Customers were shocked to receive this WhatsApp message from a nationalised bank.

What threshold? What limit? Who imposed it? When? Is it some crime to have funds in a Savings bank account? Does the bank have the authority to block my account if it thinks there are excess funds?

Repeated queries to the branch manager brought forth no explanation except that they had to submit a form.

The form is a declaration by individual customers on Expected Annual Credit Amount, if it exceeds Rs. 7.5 lakhs per annum.

The documents required to be enclosed are:

1. Salary slip

2. Income tax Return

3. Proof of Investment

4. Proof of Source of Fund

5. In case of others each to be specified

Such documents used to be required to apply for a loan from the bank, not to credit funds into a savings account!

There is an income tax department to go into all these personal details and check if there are any suspicious transactions.

The only documents not called for are the horoscopes and the recent medical report!

Is it legal for banks to impose new regulations on existing customers’ accounts, without informing them and threaten them with digital blocking of accounts?

Is the bank authorised to fix at its will any limit or threshold for the accounts of its customers?

Under what authority is the bank entitled to ask for such personal details of a customer’s financial status?

Is it legal for the bank to threaten the customer with blocking of accounts under any circumstance?

How can the customer trust any bank with his earnings and savings which he would need access to at all times?

We trust the bank with our earnings and life’s savings and the bank treats us like a fraud and criminal.

Is this how they Know Their Customer?

There was a time six decades ago when the branch manager and every member of the staff really knew their customers, treated them with courtesy and a smile.

We have fallen on sad days where men may come and men may go at the bank and nobody knows anybody. And nobody cares. By sheer habit, old timers stick to their old banks and are not inclined to migrate to newfangled banks which seem to have computers and robots. And the customer is a number.

Demanding KYC documents every year is another harassment the banks impose on their customers. Once they have the PAN numbers and Aadhaar numbers and their fingerprints which are all permanent, why demand them every year?

This is an appeal to the Finance Minister and the Governor of the RBI to look into the matter and ensure that customers are not harassed unnecessarily, irrationally and illegally.

“A Customer is the most important visitor on our premises.

He is not dependent on us.

We are dependent on him.

He is not an interruption on our work.

He is the purpose of it.

He is not an outsider on our business.

He is a part of it.

We are not doing him a favour by serving him.

He is doing us a favour by giving us an opportunity to do so.”

This quotation attributed to Mahatma Gandhi was on the table of every officer in the bank, half a century ago.

It is not there anymore.

— Sadhu Jana

History, Hearsay, and a Hint of Humour

There is fact. And there is fiction. And, as any weary History teacher will tell you with a knowing smile, the two are not always on speaking terms.

Yet, step into any classroom today, and you may find them seated side by side – fact quietly taking notes, while fiction confidently raises its hand, ready with dramatic retellings, WhatsApp forwards, and “I saw this in a video” declarations.

As a teacher who has spent many years in classrooms in Chennai, I have often found myself less a dispenser of knowledge and more a gentle referee in this ongoing tussle.

Let me begin with a familiar scene.

“Miss, is it true that…?”

The question usually begins hesitantly but ends with absolute conviction. The source? A YouTube video, a family conversation, or occasionally, a particularly persuasive auto driver. (In Chennai, intellectual discussions can happen anywhere – especially in traffic.)

What follows is not merely a question, but a narrative – complete with heroes, villains, and a dramatic plot twist. The only missing element, quite often, is evidence.

Now, to be fair, fiction is not the villain of this story. Literature, storytelling, and imagination have long helped us humanise history. They add colour to otherwise dry dates and events. A well-told story can transport a child to another era far more effectively than a textbook ever could.

However, the challenge arises when imagination begins to replace evidence – when stories are accepted as truth without question, and when emotional appeal outweighs careful inquiry.

This, as historians often caution, is how we begin to create what may be called a “post-truth past” – a version of history shaped not by evidence, but by belief, identity, and sometimes, convenience.

What makes this particularly interesting (and slightly amusing, if one chooses to see it that way) is that History, as a subject, is often declared “boring” by students. Yet, outside the classroom, there is an undeniable enthusiasm for consuming historical content – videos, reels, forwards, and animated retellings. Everyone, it appears, is deeply interested in “what really happened”… as long as it comes with background music and a strong opinion.

So, where does that leave us as teachers?

In my classroom, I have found that the answer does not lie in dismissing these narratives outright. Doing so often leads to resistance. After all, nobody enjoys being told that their favourite story is questionable. Instead, I have learnt to invite these stories in.

“Yes, that’s interesting,” I might say. “Now let’s ­investigate it together.”

And just like that, the classroom transforms into a small research space.

We ask:

– Who said this?

– What is the source?

– Can we find another version?

– Does the evidence support the claim?

At first, there is hesitation. Then curiosity. And occasionally, delight – especially when students realise that questioning something is not an act of defiance, but of thinking.

One particularly memorable moment involved a widely circulated claim about an ancient invention. The students were enthusiastic, convinced, and ready to defend it passionately. Instead of contradicting them, we traced the claim step by step – examining sources, cross-checking dates, and comparing interpretations.

By the end of the exercise, the conclusion was not imposed by me. It emerged from them.

And that, I realised, is where real learning happens.

Humour, too, plays a quiet but important role in this process. A light comment, a playful exaggeration, or a shared laugh can ease the tension that sometimes accompanies correction. It reminds students that learning is not about being right all the time, but about being open to revision.

More importantly, it builds trust.

Because at the heart of this entire endeavour lies a simple goal: to help students become thoughtful readers of the past.

Not passive recipients.

Not unquestioning believers. But curious, critical, and compassionate learners who understand that history is not a fixed story, but a careful reconstruction – one that requires evidence, perspective, and humility.

In a world where information travels faster than reflection, this may well be one of the most valuable skills we can offer them.

And perhaps, just perhaps, the next time a student begins with, “Miss, is it true that…?”
it will not be followed by certainty – but by curiosity.

And that is a very good place to begin.

– Priyanka Soman