ALBERT EINSTEIN AT SCHOOL BY PATRICK PRINGLE

EIGHT COUSINS OR ONE BROTHER? | D. BALA SUBRAMANIAN | ENGLISH |

The essay ' Eight Cousins or One Brother ? " written by D. Balasubrahmanyam, a specialist in biophysical chemistry . In this lesson writer explains how nature strangely plays a vital role in making species lose their self - interest. The writer wonders why this self - interest opposes Darwin's theory. Strangely, every living own survival lost in natural selection which is selfish as it works towards its…………………

HOW TO LIVE TO BE 200 BY STEPHEN LEACOCK

HOW TO LIVE TO BE 200 BY STEPHEN LEACOCK 

How To Be To Live 200 by Stephen Leacock is a satirically humorous essay and the writer has used the technique of exaggeration for that. The title itself is greatly an exaggeration of facts. Even the man who gets a long, long life to live today does not have a life of 200 years. Those a few persons who get an age above 100 are very rarely to be found in any country. So the writer has used exaggeration in the use of figure 200 in title………….

MOTHER'S DAY: ONE - ACT PLAY BY J.B.PRIESTLEY

MOTHER'S DAY: ONE - ACT PLAY BY J.B.PRIESTLEY 

The following play is a humorous portrayal of the status of the mother in a family. Let’s read on to see how Mrs. Pearson’s family reacts when she tries to stand up for her own rights. 

CHARACTERS : 

MRS ANNIE PEARSON 

GEORGE PEARSON 

DORIS PEARSON 

CYRIL PEARSON 

MRS FITZGERALD 

Scene: The living-room of the Pearson family. Afternoon. It is a comfortably furnished, much lived-in room in a small suburban semi-detached villa. If necessary only one door need be used, but it is better with two — one up left leading to the front door and the stairs and the other in the right wall leading to the kitchen and the back door. There can be a muslin covered window in the left wall and possibly one in the right wall, too. The fireplace is assumed to be in the fourth wall. There is a settee up right, an armchair down left and one down right. A small table with two chairs on either side of it stands at the centre. 

When the curtain rises it is an afternoon in early autumn and the stage can be well lit. Mrs. Pearson at right, and Mrs. Fitzgerald at left, are sitting opposite each other at the small table, on which are two tea-cups and saucers and the cards with which Mrs. Fitzgerald has been telling Mrs. Pearson’s fortune. Mrs. Pearson is a pleasant but worried-looking woman in her forties. Mrs. Fitzgerald is older, heavier and a strong and sinister personality. She is smoking. It is very important that these two should have sharply contrasting voices —Mrs. Pearson speaking in a light, flurried sort of tone, with a touch of suburban Cockney perhaps; and Mrs. Fitzgerald with a deep voice, rather Irish perhaps. 

MRS FITZGERALD: [collecting up the cards] And that’s all I can tell you, Mrs Pearson. Could be a good fortune. Could be a bad one. All depends on yourself now. Make up your mind—and there it is. 

MRS PEARSON: Yes, thank you, Mrs Fitzgerald. I’m much obliged, I’m sure. It’s wonderful having real fortune-teller living next door. Did you learn that out East, too? 

MRS FITZGERALD: I did. Twelve years I had of it, with my old man rising to be Lieutenant Quartermaster. He learnt a lot, and I learnt a lot more. But will you make up your mind now, Mrs. Pearson dear? Put your foot down, once an’ for all, an’ be the mistress of your own house an’ the boss of your own family. 

MRS PEARSON: [smiling apologetically] that’s easier said than done. Besides I’m so fond of them even if they are so thoughtless and selfish. They don’t mean to be... 

MRS FITZGERALD: [cutting in] maybe not. But it’ud be better for them if they learnt to treat you properly... 

MRS PEARSON: Yes, I suppose it would, in a way. 

MRS FITZGERALD: No doubt about it at all. Who’s the better for being spoil - grown man, lad or girl? Nobody. You think it does ’em good when you run after them all the time, take their orders as if you were the servant in the house, stay at home every night while they go out enjoying themselves? Never in all your life. It’s the ruin of them as well as you. Husbands, sons, daughters should be taking notice of wives an’ mothers, not giving ’em orders an’ treating ’em like dirt. An’ don’t tell me you don’t know what I mean, for I know more than you’ve told me. 

MRS PEARSON: [dubiously] I—keep dropping a hint... 

MRS FITZGERALD: Hint? It’s more than hints your family needs, Mrs Pearson. 

MRS PEARSON: [dubiously] I suppose it is. But I do hate any unpleasantness. And it’s so hard to know where to start. I keep making up my mind to have it out with them but somehow I don’t know how to begin. [She glances at her watch or at a clock ] Oh —good gracious! Look at the time. Nothing ready and they’ll be home any minute and probably all in a hurry to go out again. 

[As she is about to rise, Mrs Fitzgerald reaches out across the table and pulls her down.] 

MRS FITZGERALD: Let ’em wait or look after themselves for once.This is where your foot goes down. Start now. 

[She lights a cigarette from the one she has just finished.] 

MRS PEARSON: [embarrassed] Mrs Fitzgerald —I know you mean well —in fact, I agree with you—but I just can’t—and it’s no use you trying to make me. If I promise you I’d really have it out with them, I know I wouldn’t be able to keep my promise. 

MRS FITZGERALD: Then let me do it. 

MRS PEARSON: [ flustered] Oh no- thank you very much, Mrs Fitzgerald - but that wouldn’t do at all. It couldn’t possibly be somebody else - they’d resent it at once and wouldn’t listen - and really I couldn’t blame them. I know I ought to do it— but you see how it is? [She looks apologetically across the table, smiling rather miserably.] 

MRS FITZGERALD: [coolly] You haven’t got the idea. 

MRS PEARSON: [bewildered] Oh —I’m sorry—I thought you asked me to let you do it. 

MRS FITZGERALD: I did. But not as me - as you. 

MRS PEARSON: But—I don’t understand. You couldn’t be me. 

MRS FITZGERALD: [coolly] We change places. Or really - bodies. You look like me. I look like you. 

MRS PEARSON: But that’s impossible. 

MRS FITZGERALD: How do you know? Ever tried it? 

MRS PEARSON: No, of course not... 

MRS FITZGERALD: [coolly] I have. Not for some time but it still ought to work. Won’t last long, but long enough for what we want to do. Learnt it out East, of course, where they’re up to all these tricks. [She holds her hand out across the table, keeping the cigarette in her mouth] Gimme your hands, dear. 

MRS PEARSON: [dubiously] Well - I don’t know - is it right? 

MRS FITZGERALD: It’s your only chance. Give me your hands an’ keep quiet a minute. Just don’t think about anything. [Taking her hands] Now look at me. [They stare at each other. Muttering] Arshtatta dum- arshtatta lam- arshtatta lamdumbona... 

[This little scene should be acted very carefully. We are to assume that the personalities change bodies. After the spell has been spoken, both women, still grasping hands, go lax, as if the life were out of them. Then both come to life, but with the personality of the other. Each must try to adopt the voice and mannerisms of the other. So now Mrs Pearson is bold and dominating and Mrs Fitzgerald is nervous and fluttering.] 

MRS PEARSON: [now with Mrs Fitzgerald’s personality] See what I mean, dear? [She notices the cigarette] Here- you don’t want that. [She snatches it and puts it in her own mouth, puffing contentedly.] 

[Mrs Fitzgerald, now with Mrs Pearson’s personality, looks down at herself and sees that her body has changed and gives a scream of fright.] 

MRS FITZGERALD: [with Mrs Pearson’s personality] Oh - it’s happened. 

MRS PEARSON: [complacently] Of course it’s happened. Very neat. Didn’t know I had it in me. 

MRS FITZGERALD: [alarmed] But whatever shall I do, Mrs Fitzgerald? George and the children can’t see me like this. 

MRS PEARSON: [grimly] They aren’t going to — that’s the point. They’ll have me to deal with – only they won’t know it. 

MRS FITZGERALD: [still alarmed] But what if we can’t change back? It’ud be terrible. 

MRS PEARSON: Here- steady, Mrs. Pearson - if you had to live my life it wouldn’t be so bad. You’d have more fun as me than you’ve had as you. 

MRS FITZGERALD: Yes-but I don’t want to be anybody else... 

MRS PEARSON: Now -stop worrying. It’s easier changing back - I can do it any time we want... 

MRS FITZGERALD: Well - do it now..............................................................................

(Mrs. Fitzgerald exits left and the family cluster round Mother as - the curtain falls.) 

RESPOND INSTEAD OF REACTING BY AZIM PREMJI

****

RESPOND INSTEAD OF REACTING BY AZIM PREMJI 

Respond instead of reacting is a thought of provoking essay by Azem Premji chaimpan of Wipro technology. This is an extract form his speech given as part of the shaping young program. 

*I am very happy to be here with you. It is always wonderful to be with young people. The funny thing about life is that you realize the value of something only when it begins to leave you. As my hair turned from black, to salt and pepper and finally salt without the pepper, I have begun to realize the importance of youth. At the same time, I have begun to truly appreciate some of the lessons I have learnt along the way. I hope you will find them useful when you plan your own career and life......... 

*The writer emphasizes to build their strength rather than worry about their weakness. Once the innate abilities are identified and natured one can work on one's weakness and overcome them.The writer shares that hard-work and self-work alone can give one’s more satisfaction than gifted. Premji stress the importance of humility and gratitude. He tells that we should be grateful for all the blessings we have received in life. Premji teaches us that we must strive for excellence. Excellence cannot be imposed from outside. The need for it should be from within. Every one achieve success in whatever way you define it and what gives you the maximum happiness in life. Remember, those who win are those who believe they can. 

Finally the writer describes the importance of self-confidence............

ALBERT EINSTEIN AT SCHOOL BY PATRICK PRINGLE

ALBERT EINSTEIN AT SCHOOL BY PATRICK PRINGLE

Albert Einstein (1879–1955) is regarded as the greatest physicist since Newton. In the following extract from The Young Einstein, the well-known biographer, Patrick Pringle, describes the circumstances which led to Albert Einstein’s expulsion from a German school.

********

“IN what year, Einstein,” asked the history teacher, “did the Prussians defeat the French at Waterloo?”

“I don’t know, sir,”

“Why don’t you know? You’ve been told it often enough.”

“I must have forgotten.”

“Did you ever try to learn?” asked Mr Braun.

“No, sir,” Albert replied with his usual unthinking honesty.

“Why not?”

“I can’t see any point in learning dates. One can always look them up in a book.”

Mr Braun was speechless for a few moments.

“You amaze me, Einstein,” he said at last. “Don’t you realise that one can always look most things up in books? That applies to all the facts you learn at school.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Then I suppose you don’t see any point in learning facts.”

“Frankly, sir, I don’t,” said Albert.

“Then you don’t believe in education at all?”

“Oh, yes, sir, I do. I don’t think learning facts is education.”

“In that case,” said the history teacher with heavy sarcasm, “perhaps you will be so kind as to tell the class the Einstein theory of education.”

Albert flushed.

“I think it’s not facts that matter, but ideas,” he said. “I don’t see the point in learning the dates of battles, or even which of the armies killed more men. I’d be more interested in learning why those soldiers were trying to kill each other.”

“That’s enough,” Mr Braun’s eyes were cold and cruel. “We don’t want a lecture from you, Einstein. You will stay in for an extra period today, although I don’t imagine it will do you much good. It won’t do the school any good, either. You are a disgrace.

I don’t know why you continue to come.”

“It’s not my wish, sir,” Albert pointed out.

“Then you are an ungrateful boy and ought to be ashamed of yourself. I suggest you ask your father to take you away.”

Albert felt miserable when he left school that afternoon; not that it had been a bad day— most days were bad now, anyway - 

but because he had to go back to the hateful place the next morning. He only wished his father would take him away, but there was no point in even asking. He knew what the answer would be: he would have to stay until he had taken his diploma.

Going back to his lodgings did not cheer him up. His father had so little money to spare that Albert had been found a room in one of the poorest quarters of Munich. He did not mind the bad food and lack of comfort, or even the dirt and squalor, but he hated the atmosphere of slum violence. His landlady beat her children regularly, and every Saturday her husband came drunk and beat her.

“But at least you have a room of your own, which is more than I can say,” said Yuri when he called round in the evening.

“At least you live among civilised human beings, even if they are all poor students,” said Albert.

“They are not all civilised,” Yuri replied. “Did you not hear that one of them was killed last week in a duel?”

“And what happens to the one who killed him?”

“Nothing, of course. He is even proud of it. His only worry is that the authorities have told him not to fight any more duels.

He’s upset about this because he hasn’t a single scar on his face to wear for the rest of his life as a badge of honour.”

“Ugh!” exclaimed Albert. “And these are the students.”

“Well, you’ll be a student one day,” said Yuri.

“I doubt it,” said Albert glumly. “I don’t think I’ll ever pass the exams for the school diploma.”

He told his cousin Elsa the same next time she came to Munich. Normally she lived in Berlin, where her father had a business.

“I’m sure you could learn enough to pass the exams, Albert, if you tried,” she said, “I know lots of boys who are much more stupid than you are, who get through. They say you don’t have to know anything— you don’t have to understand what you’re taught, just be able to repeat it in the exams.”

“That’s the whole trouble,” said Albert. “I’m no good at learning things by heart.”

“You don’t need to be good at it. Anyone can learn like a parrot. You just don’t try. And yet I always see you with a book under your arm,” added Elsa. “What is the one you’re reading?”

“A book on geology.”

“Geology? Rocks and things? Do you learn that?”

“No. We have hardly any science at school.”

“Then why are you studying it?”

“Because I like it. Isn’t that a good enough reason?” Elsa sighed.

“You’re right, of course, Albert,” she said. “But it won’t help with your diploma.” Apart from books on science his only comfort was music, and he played his violin regularly until his landlady asked him to stop.

“That wailing gets on my nerves,” she said. “There’s enough noise in this house, with all the kids howling.”

Albert was tempted to point out that most of the time it was she who made them howl, but he decided it was better to say nothing.

“I must get away from here,” he told Yuri, after six months alone in Munich. “It is absurd that I should go on like this. In the end it will turn out I have been wasting my father’s money and everyone’s time. It will be better for all if I stop now.”

“And then what will you do?” Yuri asked.

“I don’t know. If I go to Milan I’m afraid my father will send me back. Unless...” His eyes gleamed with a sudden idea. “Yuri, do you know any friendly doctors?”

“I know a lot of medical students, and some of them are friendly,” said Yuri. “Doctor, no. I’ve never had enough money to go to one. Why?” “Suppose,” said Albert, “that I had a nervous breakdown. Suppose a doctor would say it’s bad for me to go to school, and I need to get right away from it?”

“I can’t imagine a doctor saying that,” said Yuri.

“I must try,” said Albert, “to find a doctor who specialises in nerves.”

“There are plenty of them,” Yuri told him. He hesitated for a moment, and then added, rather reluctantly, “I’ll ask some of the students if they know one, if you like.”

“Will you? Oh, thank you, Yuri,” Albert’s eyes were shining.

“Wait a moment, I haven’t found one yet…”

“Oh, but you will!”

“And if I do I don’t know if he’ll be willing to help you…”

“He will, he will,” declared Albert. “I’m going to have a real nervous breakdown, to make it easier for him.” He laughed merrily.

“I’ve never seen you looking less nervous,” remarked Yuri.

“A day or two at school will soon put that right.” Albert assured him.

Certainly he had lost his high spirits when Yuri saw him next.

“I can’t stand it any longer,” he said, “I really shall have a nervous breakdown that will satisfy any doctor.”

“Keep it up, then,” said Yuri. “I’ve found a doctor for you.”

“You have?” Albert’s face lit up. “Oh, good. When can I see him?”

“I have an appointment for you for tomorrow evening.” Yuri said. “Here’s the address.”

He handed Albert a piece of paper.

“Doctor Ernst Weil — is he a specialist in nervous troubles?” asked Albert.

“Not exactly,” Yuri admitted. “As a matter of fact he only qualified as a doctor last week. You may even be his first patient!”

“You knew him as a student, then?”

“I’ve known Ernst for years.” Yuri hesitated for a few moments. “He’s not a fool,” he warned Albert.

“What do you mean?”

“Don’t try to pull the wool over his eyes 1, that’s all. Be frank with him, but don’t pretend you’ve got what you haven’t. Not that you’d deceive anyone.” Yuri added. “You’re the world’s worst liar.”

Albert spent the next day wondering what to tell the doctor.

When the time arrived for his appointment he had worried over it so much that he really was quite nervous.

“I don’t really know how to describe my trouble, Dr Weil,” he began.

“Don’t try,” said the young doctor with a friendly smile. “Yuri has already given me a history of the case.”

“Oh! What did he say?”

“Only that you want me to think you have had a nervous breakdown, and say that you mustn’t go back to that school.”

“Oh dear.” Albert’s face fell. “He shouldn’t have told you that.”

“Why not? Isn’t it true, then?”

“Yes, that’s the trouble. Now you’ll say there’s nothing wrong with me, and you’ll tell me to go back to school.”

“Don’t be too sure of that,” said the doctor. “As a matter of fact I am pretty sure you are in a nervous state about that school.”

“But I haven’t told you anything about it,” said Albert, wide eyed. “How can you know that?”

“Because you wouldn’t have come to see me about this if you hadn’t been pretty close to a nervous breakdown, that’s why. Now,” said the doctor briskly, “if I certify that you have had a nervous breakdown, and must stay away from school for a while, what will you do?”

“I’ll go to Italy,” said Albert. “To Milan, where my parents are.”

“And what will you do there?”

“I’ll try to get into an Italian college or institute.”

“How can you, without a diploma?”

“I’ll ask my mathematics teacher to give me something about my work, and perhaps that will be enough. I’ve learnt all the maths they teach at school, and a bit more,” he added when Dr Weil looked doubtful.

“Well, it’s up to you,” he said. “I doubt if it will come off, but I can see you’re not doing yourself or anyone else much good by staying here. How long would you like me to say you should stay away from school? Would six months be all right?”

“This is very kind of you.”

“It’s nothing. I’ve only just stopped being a student myself,

so I know how you feel. Here you are.” Dr Weil handed him the certificate, “And the best of luck.”

“How much…”

“Nothing, if you have anything to spare, invite Yuri to a meal.

He’s a good friend of mine, and yours too, I think,”

Albert had no money to spare, but he pretended he had and took Yuri out to supper.

“Isn’t it wonderful?” he said after showing Yuri the certificate.

“Yes, it’s fine,” Yuri agreed. “Six months is a good period.

This way you won’t actually be leaving the school so if the worst comes to the worst you’ll be able to come back and carry on for your diploma.”

“I’ll never go back to that place,” Albert assured him. “I’m going to take this certificate to the head teacher tomorrow, and that will be the end of it.”

“Don’t forget to get a reference in writing from your mathematics teacher first,” Yuri reminded him.

Mr Koch willingly gave Albert the reference he wanted.

“If I say I can’t teach you any more, and probably you’ll soon be able to teach me, will that be all right?” he asked.

“That’s saying too much, sir,” said Albert.

“It’s only the truth. But alright. I’ll put it more seriously.”

It was still a glowing reference, and Mr Koch made the point that Albert was ready immediately to enter a college or institute for the study of higher mathematics.

“I’m sorry you’re leaving us, although you’re wasting your time in my class,” he said.

“It’s almost the only class where I’m not wasting my time,”

said Albert. “But how did you know I’m leaving, sir?”

“You wouldn’t have asked me for this reference otherwise.”

“I thought you’d wonder…”

“There’s nothing to wonder about, Einstein. I knew you were going to leave before you knew yourself.”

Albert was puzzled. What did the teacher mean?

He soon found out. Before he had a chance to ask for an interview with the head teacher, he was summoned to the head’s room.

“Well, it saves me the trouble of having to wait an hour or two outside,” he thought.

He hardly bothered to wonder why he had been sent for, but vaguely supposed he was to be punished again for bad work and laziness. Well, he had finished with punishments.

“I’m not going to punish you,” the head teacher said, to Albert’s surprise. “Your work is terrible, and I’m not prepared to have you here any longer, Einstein. I want you to leave the school now.”

“Leave school now?” repeated Albert, dazed.

“That is what I said.”

“You mean,” said Albert, “that I am to be expelled?”

“You can take it that way if you wish, Einstein.” The head teacher was not mincing words. “The simplest thing will be for you to go of your own accord, and then the question won’t arise.”

“But,” said Albert, “what crime have I committed?”

“Your presence in the classroom makes it impossible for the teacher to teach and for the other pupils to learn. You refuse to learn, you are in constant rebellion, and no serious work can be done while you are there.”

Albert felt the medical certificate almost burning a hole in his pocket. “I was going to leave, anyway,” he said. “Then we are in agreement at least, Einstein,” the head said. For a moment Albert was tempted to tell the man what he thought of him and of his school. Then he stopped himself. Without another word, holding his head high, he stalked out.

“Shut the door after you!” shouted the head. Albert ignored him.

He walked straight on, out of the school where he had spent five miserable years, without turning his head to give it a last look. He could not think of anyone he wanted to say goodbye to. Indeed, Yuri was almost the only person in Munich he felt

like seeing before he left the town he had come to hate almost as much as the school. Elsa was back in Berlin, and he had no other real friends.

“Goodbye — and good luck,” said Yuri when he left. “You are going to a wonderful country, I think. I hope you will be happier there.”