Times have changed. Public speaking competitions in schools today are generally centered on "Model UN" sessions (MUNs) and debates. Rarely do we hear about an Elocution Competition. It is not the flavor of the season anymore.
Not so in the good old days! Don Bosco had an annual Elocution Competition and the best speakers would vie with each other to win the coveted contest. Winning did not matter in the least; may be it did- but only for the participants. For the rest of us, it was a laughing-riot- three hours of non-stop rib-tickling entertainment (at the expense of the contestants of course). The audience was an active participant. It decided how long the competition lasted....and while it did, more classes got canceled, especially the back-to-back Maths periods making the day that much more palatable! Much was tried to rein in the behavior of the audience as it erupted from time to time and drowned the speakers. On that day, even Father Bryganza's iron fist would appear limp- for the offenders were too many!
The recitation at Elocution Competitions followed a standard, time-tested pattern. The audience knew it "by heart". Of the 15 participants, at least 9 (if not all 15) recited the same speech- Mark Anthony's address on the death of Julius Caesar. It was the one which started with "Friends! Romans! Countrymen!" It was as common place as Gabbar Singh's dialogue from the film Sholay- "Arey O Samba! Kitney admi the!". Needless to say, the competition was eventually to crown the best Gabbar amongst the 15 Gabbars who went up on stage!
It was lost on us that Shakespeare intended this speech for "Romans"! In the hands of the six graders at Don Bosco, this speech had a different connotation altogether. Everyone pronounced "Romans" as "romance"- correctness in enunciation was not our strength. For us, Mark Anthony's lines meant "friends romance countrymen!". The open admission, in a public forum, tickled us to no end! Of course, with friends romancing all countrymen, there was one stickling point- how do we reconcile this line with the message on the pledge which said all Indians are my brothers and sisters!! Mehernosh got carried away and giggled on stage when he said the opening lines! It provoked the Elocution teacher (sir) Michael Nazareth. Later in class, with each hit on the knuckle with a wooden ruler, he would correct Mehernosh- it's "Romans!", it's "Romans!", it's "Romans"! Ouch!
The contestants had to pack their speech with emotion. The louder you were, more the emotion, more were the claps. You literally played to the galleries. On an occasion, Sridhar recited the poem "O Captain, My Captain". We loved it! The poem apparently dealt with the death of Abraham Lincoln. We knew someone had died for Sridhar got too involved with the lines. Convulsed with an overwhelming sense of bereavement, he bawled on stage...."O captain"….sob...sob..."my captain"!!! He buried his face with his hands, his shoulders rocked...and nothing more came out of him! "Abey koi mar gaya kya!?" someone shouted from the audience! The crowd erupted- some jeered, some clapped, some heckled...they were thoroughly enjoying themselves! But Sridhar's grief was too intense! Eventually, he needed an escort to drag him out of the stage, much as he protested to stay on and continue his never-ending act! Father Bryganza's eyes were to be seen. He didn't like it one bit!
We repeatedly told Ms Nattie in class not to select Adhir for the competition. Adhir was a good speaker, but he had got his teeth fixed with braces just that week. Evidently, he had not got used to speaking with braces. When he went up on stage, no one had a clue what he was trying to say. It could have been "Friends Romans" or a piece in Swahili. We knew he was trying very hard, but it was as if he was speaking through a wind-tunnel. Or the kind of sound when you slow down and play a piece of recorded audio.....so that you wouldn't know if it was a man or a beast! He did not like it one bit when the audience drowned him with the cackle of a rooster..."kukrooo koo ku!" To make matters worse, he stumbled down the steps and fell with a loud thud! Just the trigger the audience needed to let themselves loose once more!
There were two different schools of thought when it came to Elocution competitions. One said you could use your hands, gesture animatedly and recite your speech. The other school claimed that you should not use the hands at all because it would be dramatics and not elocution. The problem was- there was no consistency in enforcing this rule. Some used their hands, others didn't.
If you didn't use your hands, you were at a disadvantage. You got stuck to an unnatural posture. You had to clasp your palms at your belly, with the elbows sticking out (that was the rule). The stance looked plain silly. You felt wooden- like the ventriloquist Ramdas Padhye's puppet, the kind which stays motionless...with only the head bobbing, the eyebrows craning up and down, the eyes bulging out of the sockets and the mouth moving in sudden spurts!!! As Dinesh clasped his palms and rocked his shoulders inadvertently, it was as if he was cradling a baby! The audience had a field day- "Abey Dinesh, kiska bachcha hai...tere haath mey!", they taunted!
"Women are irrational, their heads are full of cotton, hay and rags!"- The speech from My Fair Lady elicited more applause than Vivekananda would have got at Chicago. Shouts of bravo! bravo! drowned Subra! It didn't matter what he said next! It was a big hit!
It happened year after year- lines were learnt in the last minute and forgotten on stage. Lines were learnt well in advance, but like Karna, you forgot them when you needed them most. You dealt with stage fright as best as you could- frozen like a deer with a bullet between the eyes or casually, by making eye-contact with your friend in the audience and giggling! It did not matter. No one remembered after the event. Everyone was there to have fun, unadulterated fun, to have a good laugh and to live that day with a sense of reckless abandon!
Where is that sixth grader....with that contagious laugh? In time's relentless march, he is lost forever.
P.S. The trigger for this essay was a dream! I woke up dreaming about school days and this event in particular! Before the details evaporated the following morning, I quickly wrote it all out!
Not so in the good old days! Don Bosco had an annual Elocution Competition and the best speakers would vie with each other to win the coveted contest. Winning did not matter in the least; may be it did- but only for the participants. For the rest of us, it was a laughing-riot- three hours of non-stop rib-tickling entertainment (at the expense of the contestants of course). The audience was an active participant. It decided how long the competition lasted....and while it did, more classes got canceled, especially the back-to-back Maths periods making the day that much more palatable! Much was tried to rein in the behavior of the audience as it erupted from time to time and drowned the speakers. On that day, even Father Bryganza's iron fist would appear limp- for the offenders were too many!
The recitation at Elocution Competitions followed a standard, time-tested pattern. The audience knew it "by heart". Of the 15 participants, at least 9 (if not all 15) recited the same speech- Mark Anthony's address on the death of Julius Caesar. It was the one which started with "Friends! Romans! Countrymen!" It was as common place as Gabbar Singh's dialogue from the film Sholay- "Arey O Samba! Kitney admi the!". Needless to say, the competition was eventually to crown the best Gabbar amongst the 15 Gabbars who went up on stage!
It was lost on us that Shakespeare intended this speech for "Romans"! In the hands of the six graders at Don Bosco, this speech had a different connotation altogether. Everyone pronounced "Romans" as "romance"- correctness in enunciation was not our strength. For us, Mark Anthony's lines meant "friends romance countrymen!". The open admission, in a public forum, tickled us to no end! Of course, with friends romancing all countrymen, there was one stickling point- how do we reconcile this line with the message on the pledge which said all Indians are my brothers and sisters!! Mehernosh got carried away and giggled on stage when he said the opening lines! It provoked the Elocution teacher (sir) Michael Nazareth. Later in class, with each hit on the knuckle with a wooden ruler, he would correct Mehernosh- it's "Romans!", it's "Romans!", it's "Romans"! Ouch!
The contestants had to pack their speech with emotion. The louder you were, more the emotion, more were the claps. You literally played to the galleries. On an occasion, Sridhar recited the poem "O Captain, My Captain". We loved it! The poem apparently dealt with the death of Abraham Lincoln. We knew someone had died for Sridhar got too involved with the lines. Convulsed with an overwhelming sense of bereavement, he bawled on stage...."O captain"….sob...sob..."my captain"!!! He buried his face with his hands, his shoulders rocked...and nothing more came out of him! "Abey koi mar gaya kya!?" someone shouted from the audience! The crowd erupted- some jeered, some clapped, some heckled...they were thoroughly enjoying themselves! But Sridhar's grief was too intense! Eventually, he needed an escort to drag him out of the stage, much as he protested to stay on and continue his never-ending act! Father Bryganza's eyes were to be seen. He didn't like it one bit!
We repeatedly told Ms Nattie in class not to select Adhir for the competition. Adhir was a good speaker, but he had got his teeth fixed with braces just that week. Evidently, he had not got used to speaking with braces. When he went up on stage, no one had a clue what he was trying to say. It could have been "Friends Romans" or a piece in Swahili. We knew he was trying very hard, but it was as if he was speaking through a wind-tunnel. Or the kind of sound when you slow down and play a piece of recorded audio.....so that you wouldn't know if it was a man or a beast! He did not like it one bit when the audience drowned him with the cackle of a rooster..."kukrooo koo ku!" To make matters worse, he stumbled down the steps and fell with a loud thud! Just the trigger the audience needed to let themselves loose once more!
There were two different schools of thought when it came to Elocution competitions. One said you could use your hands, gesture animatedly and recite your speech. The other school claimed that you should not use the hands at all because it would be dramatics and not elocution. The problem was- there was no consistency in enforcing this rule. Some used their hands, others didn't.
If you didn't use your hands, you were at a disadvantage. You got stuck to an unnatural posture. You had to clasp your palms at your belly, with the elbows sticking out (that was the rule). The stance looked plain silly. You felt wooden- like the ventriloquist Ramdas Padhye's puppet, the kind which stays motionless...with only the head bobbing, the eyebrows craning up and down, the eyes bulging out of the sockets and the mouth moving in sudden spurts!!! As Dinesh clasped his palms and rocked his shoulders inadvertently, it was as if he was cradling a baby! The audience had a field day- "Abey Dinesh, kiska bachcha hai...tere haath mey!", they taunted!
"Women are irrational, their heads are full of cotton, hay and rags!"- The speech from My Fair Lady elicited more applause than Vivekananda would have got at Chicago. Shouts of bravo! bravo! drowned Subra! It didn't matter what he said next! It was a big hit!
It happened year after year- lines were learnt in the last minute and forgotten on stage. Lines were learnt well in advance, but like Karna, you forgot them when you needed them most. You dealt with stage fright as best as you could- frozen like a deer with a bullet between the eyes or casually, by making eye-contact with your friend in the audience and giggling! It did not matter. No one remembered after the event. Everyone was there to have fun, unadulterated fun, to have a good laugh and to live that day with a sense of reckless abandon!
Where is that sixth grader....with that contagious laugh? In time's relentless march, he is lost forever.
P.S. The trigger for this essay was a dream! I woke up dreaming about school days and this event in particular! Before the details evaporated the following morning, I quickly wrote it all out!
