Wren and Martin

Few academic books enjoyed cult status like the “Wren and Martin”. This tome on English Grammar was the unrivalled Bible. It was your constant companion through school. No one saw a new copy of the book. It was like heirloom, passed from generation to generation.

That the “Wren and Martin” referred to two separate authors was lost on the students. It was taken as one composite word, the mention of which, reminded of you of that unmistakable book with a red cover.

They say the “root of education is bitter”.  To a high school student, as far as this book was concerned, the root, shoot and fruit were equally bitter.

The problem began with the size of the book. Once you stuffed The Wren and Martin into the school bag, it encroached the entire space and refused to budge. It was like the proverbial camel, to whom you gave an inch, and he ended up taking a mile! Secondly, it weighed a ton.  The student’s backbone was bent for life, carrying the load like a donkey’s burden.

Students tried innovative methods. They tore the book into multiple segments. The English teacher was aghast. To her, who referred to the book in hushed tones, it was an act of absolute sacrilege. The punishment was swift and severe.

English Grammar was tedious. Active and Passive voice, prepositions and Gerunds were like balls of clay. They had a clear form in isolation, but when rolled together, they coalesced into an amorphous mass, with no distinction whatsoever.

Elders at home, claimed to have committed the entire book to memory, “Mr. so and so, powdered and drank the entire Wren and Martin like a potion!” You imagined the aftertaste and felt like asking a counter question- “Didn’t he have anything better to do?” It seemed as purposeful as memorizing a telephone directory, with the names and the corresponding numbers! 

Students loved the “Wren and Martin” for a different reason. The book was thick and best suited for an engaging game called “Book Cricket”. You opened a page at random, and the last digit of the page-number denoted the number of runs hit by a batsman. If it ended in a zero, the batsman was out.

When the teacher was absent, students played “book cricket” for hours together. After a year-full of “book cricket”, The Wren and Martin was totally worn out.

During the summer vacation, the book lay stacked in the bookshelf. My grandfather was an erudite man. He sifted through the pages of the book. He was elated and complimented, “You have studied The Wren and Martin very well. I can discern that, from the tattered condition of the book. The knowledge will serve you well in life!”

It was tough to explain “book cricket” to grandpa!