Borden and the Baroda Libraries

India celebrates National Librarian’s Day on 12 August every year to mark the birth anniversary of Dr S R Ranganathan who is known as the father of library science in India. Dr Ranganthan was a mathematics graduate who was not initially trained as a librarian, but in 1924 he was appointed as librarian by the University of Madras. He subsequently travelled to London to study library science and returned with a mission to modernize and expand library access, and transform libraries into user-focussed spaces. Towards this he created the Colon Classification system.

While Dr Ranganathan is revered and celebrated, not much is known about another librarian who travelled half-way across the world, and contributed to India’s library movement with missionary zeal.     

William Alanson Borden, was born in America in 1853. He got a degree in science but his passion for books led him to join a subscription-based library managed by Charles Cutter who was an innovator in library science. Borden went on to join many other libraries, learning on the job, even as he came up with innovative ideas about library organization, not only in terms of books, but also reader convenience.

A serendipitous meeting with Maharaja Sayajirao III of Baroda brought Borden to Baroda. The Maharaja was a progressive ruler of what was then the feudal state of Baroda. He had introduced several measures which were well ahead of their time including compulsory education for girls. As early as 1906 he proposed a network of circulating libraries to promote the habit of reading. Sayajirao’s administration also provided assistance to the subscription-based libraries started by Motibhai Amin, a noted educationist and librarian.

During the course of his visit to the United States, Sayajirao was deeply impressed by the public libraries in the United States. He also happened to meet William Borden, and, impressed by his vision and passion invited him to Baroda to create and direct a free public library system for the people of his state. Borden accepted his invitation, and came to Baroda in late 1910.

Borden was driven by the desire to make libraries accessible to a wide audience, and with the Maharaja’s patronage, he tried to make their common dream a reality. He introduced a system of “library cooperation”, under which the existing 241 libraries were linked in a network via his cataloguing system. This gave readers across the network – including at the district, town and village level – access to the cumulative collection of 10 lakh books, which included Sayajirao’s personal collection of over 20,000 books from the palace library.

With the Maharaja’s support, and Borden’s vision, there were significant developments.  A permanent space was commissioned for the Baroda Central Library. Reference sections were added to the Central and the district libraries, and an information bureau set up. Apart from this, travelling libraries on bullock carts, which had already been initiated, were given a boost with Borden’s interlinked system.

The setting up of reading rooms for women and children was an innovative measure. In Baroda city, a female librarian began taking books in ‘library boxes’ to a ladies’ club that had been meeting in a park Sayaji Baug, every Saturday since 1903. The Mahila Library, as it came to be called, was made a part of the Central Library in August 1914. To attract children to the Central Library, Borden brought a cinemascope from London, and lantern slides and films were shown.

Borden also designed a training programme for librarians, mainly in Gujarati. The comprehensive course taught pupils how to test paper quality, collate books, catalogue them and use the card system. Lessons in cursive penmanship were also given, as Borden was especially keen that librarians fill in catalogue cards neatly.  

By the end of Borden’s first year in Baroda state, there were nine town libraries, 60 newsrooms and 255 village libraries. All these were free for readers and sustained by the administration with mostly government funds. Borden however was of the opinion that there should be subscriptions for the use of the library, as this would instill a sense of ownership and involvement among members.

Borden could achieve a great deal in his three years in Baroda.  By the time Borden left Baroda on May 15, 1913, Baroda city had its Central Library, comprising Reference and Lending Departments with a book stock of 40,000 volumes; thirty six of the thirty eight towns had established their own libraries. Two hundred and sixteen of the four hundred and twenty-six large villages had founded their libraries. Even the small villages had come forward and had initiated their own libraries. There were 140 travelling libraries as well.

After Borden returned to the United States, he continued his interest in library engineering; among other things, he designed a “cantilever library stacking system” with moveable shelves and a flexible library card shelving system that remains in use. He also contributed to library science with the development of a Classification System which divides knowledge into 26 basic classes, each identified by a letter, similar to the Library of Congress System, developed during the same time-period. Classes are further subdivided with numbers to indicate subfields. The system became recognized  as the Borden Classification System which is unique because it has the ability to expand as knowledge develops and subfields come to light.

Borden was a multifaceted librarian who contributed to both the theory and practice of library science and use. Above all his lifelong commitment was to popularize libraries as far and widely as possible. As he wrote in 1912: Give them [the readers] books. Not the books you think they ought to have…give them the books they want to read. What you want to see is not a cupboard filled with soul-convincing titles, but a reading public. The finest library in the world is a room full of empty shelves, with the books out among the people. Build up the reading habit first and a habit can’t be built in a day, nor in a year; after this foundation is well started you may gradually and slowly erect your superstructure; but don’t start to build your house at the second storey.”

–Mamata

Why July 22 Should Be International Pi Day

One of the most memorable scenes in Life of Pi has nothing to do with a Bengal tiger or a lifeboat.

Piscine Molitor Patel has had enough of being teased about his unusual name. On the first day at his new school, he goes to the blackboard, writes the Greek letter π, and begins reciting its value to an astonishing number of decimal places. The classroom falls silent. His classmates never call him Piscine again. From that day on, he is simply “Pi.”

It is a wonderful moment. Knowledge triumphs over ridicule.

Every year on March 14, mathematicians and science enthusiasts celebrate Pi Day because, in the American style of writing dates, 3/14 resembles the first three digits of π—3.14. There are quizzes, lectures, pie-eating contests and social media posts celebrating perhaps the world’s most famous number.

But there is a small problem.

Outside the United States, most countries write dates as day/month, not month/day. In India, the United Kingdom, Australia, New Zealand, Singapore, Malaysia, and across most of Europe, Africa and Latin America, March 14 is simply 14/3. The neat mathematical coincidence disappears.

If there is one date that deserves to be celebrated as Pi Day, it is July 22. Written as 22/7, it represents the most famous fractional approximation of π—one that generations of students have learned long before they encountered calculators or computers.

The story of π begins with a deceptively simple observation. Measure the circumference of any circle and divide it by its diameter. Whether the circle is a coin, a bicycle wheel, a temple dome or the orbit of a planet, the answer is always the same mysterious number.

Simple in concept. Impossible to write down completely.

Its decimal expansion—3.1415926535…—goes on forever without repeating. It is an irrational number, one that can never be expressed exactly as a fraction.

Yet for thousands of years, practical mathematics has relied on approximations.

The fraction 22/7 is associated with the Greek mathematician Archimedes, who, more than 2,200 years ago, proved that π lay within a narrow range that included this elegant fraction. It is not exact, but it is remarkably accurate and wonderfully easy to remember. Builders, engineers, surveyors and schoolchildren have relied on it ever since.

India has one of the world’s oldest mathematical traditions, and its contribution to understanding π is fundamental. Around the fifth century CE, the great mathematician and astronomer Aryabhata gave a remarkably accurate value for π in his Aryabhatiya. His approximation—3.1416—was correct to four decimal places, an extraordinary achievement for its time. Even more impressive was his suggestion that this value was only an approximation, revealing an understanding that π could not be captured exactly.

Nearly a thousand years later came another remarkable breakthrough. Mādhava of Sangamagrama, founder of the Kerala School of Mathematics, developed infinite series for calculating π with astonishing precision. These methods anticipated ideas that later became central to calculus in Europe. By the fourteenth century, Indian mathematicians were calculating π to many decimal places using techniques that were centuries ahead of their time.

Today, historians increasingly recognise that. Egyptians, Babylonians, Greeks, Chinese, Arabs and Indians all advanced humanity’s understanding of numbers. Pi belongs not to one nation, but to civilisation itself. That makes July 22 an especially meaningful day.

Unlike March 14, which owes its popularity to one country’s date format, 22/7 is a mathematical symbol recognised across generations and across classrooms. For millions of students, it was their first introduction to π. Before calculators became commonplace, “Take π as 22/7” was almost a universal instruction.

Pi itself is everywhere. It appears in wheels and bridges, domes and tunnels, clocks and satellites. Engineers use it to design aircraft. Doctors encounter it in medical imaging. Astronomers use it to understand the cosmos. Physicists find it in equations that have little to do with circles. Even the digital technologies that shape our lives rest on mathematical foundations where π quietly makes an appearance.

Perhaps that is why Pi Patel chose the symbol as his new identity. It represented something larger than a number.

Celebrating July 22 would not simply honour a mathematical constant. It would celebrate curiosity, scientific temper and humanity’s enduring quest to understand the universe.

So by all means enjoy the festivities on March 14.

But when July 22 comes around, take a moment to remember Aryabhata, Archimedes, Mādhava—and perhaps even Pi Patel, the schoolboy who silenced his bullies not with fists, but with an endless stream of digits.

Perhaps it is time we celebrated July 22 as the International Pi Day—a day that honours not only one extraordinary number, but the shared human pursuit of knowledge that transcends borders, languages and centuries.

–Meena

A Full Cycle

This week, newspapers have been headlining the news of Pune hosting a UCI-sanctioned international cycle race. The Bajaj Pune Grand Tour 2026, the country’s first UCI-category multi-stage professional road race, aims to put Pune into the centre of the global cycling world. The race — scheduled from January 19 to 23— will feature 171 elite riders from 29 teams representing 35 countries, and for the first time India is fielding its own national squad in a UCI event of this scale. Riders will pedal through 437 km of varied terrain, from urban loops to the Sahyadri foothills and rural plains.

The race has significance for India. The Union Cycliste Internationale (UCI) is cycling’s highest governing authority — the body that sets global rules, certifies races, ranks riders, and decides what counts as legitimate professional competition. When a race is UCI-sanctioned, it means it meets international standards of safety, equipment, timekeeping and anti-doping. Riders earn global ranking points.

For many readers, that the Indian riders’ cycles cost–upwards of ₹10 lakh–was the headline novelty. To put it in contrast, in1947, a new bicycle cost roughly ₹60 to ₹120 — a substantial sum at a time when a schoolteacher or clerk earned ₹50 to ₹100 a month. A cycle was not casually bought. It was saved for, negotiated over, sometimes purchased second-hand, and treated as a family asset. Owning one meant time saved, distances conquered, and opportunities expanded.  And some service-providers like postmen depended on it, as did newspaper delivery boys, vendors, etc. In a fuel-poor, infrastructure-scarce nation, the bicycle was mobility itself.

Indian-made bicycles were only just beginning to gain ground in the 1940s. Many cycles in circulation were British brands or locally assembled models using imported parts. After Independence, companies such as Hero, Atlas, Avon and TI Cycles would expand production rapidly, bringing costs down over the following decades. Ludhiana emerged as a manufacturing hub, producing sturdy roadsters designed for rough roads, heavy loads and endless repair. These were not glamorous machines, but they were indestructible — and that was the point.

By the 1960s and 1970s, Indian bicycles were already travelling far beyond Indian roads. Manufacturers exported extensively to Africa, the Middle East and Southeast Asia — markets that valued exactly what Indian cycles offered: affordability, durability and ease of maintenance.

Then, gradually, cycling slipped out of aspiration. Motorisation took over the national imagination. Cycles remained everywhere — in villages, campuses, small towns — but rarely in headlines. What we are witnessing now, through urban cycling clubs, endurance events, and races like Pune’s, is not a new culture but a resurfacing one.

Girls go Cycling

In 1947, a girl owning a bicycle was rare — often limited to fancy schools or unusually progressive families (and heroines in movies who not only cycled but also sang at the same time!). But things slowly changed. Manufacturers, once slow to respond, eventually followed demand, producing lighter, better-fitted cycles designed specifically for girls. What had once been radical became normal.

In 2001, Tamil Nadu launched a free bicycle scheme for students, including girls, under the Jayalalithaa government. The bicycles were procured and distributed by the state. Then in 2006 in Bihar came the game-changer. Mukhyamantri Balika Cycle Yojana, a statewide initiative launched by the Nitish Kumar government targeted girls entering Class 9, particularly in rural areas, and provided funds to purchase a bicycle rather than distributing cycles directly. Girls cycling in groups along rural roads became such a familiar sight that it changed public perception. With the success of the scheme, many states followed. . Few development interventions in India have delivered such disproportionate impact at such low cost.

Hearteningly, the cyclist who has brought India international fame in the past is a woman. Deborah Herold, from the Andaman & Nicobar Islands, is India’s standout name in track cycling. She won three gold medals at the 2019 South Asian Games, setting records, and went on to become the first Indian woman track cyclist to qualify for the UCI Track World Championships. She has represented India multiple times at World Championships and Asian Championships and won medals at the Asian Track Cycling Championships. In 2021, she received the Arjuna Award. Arpita Biswas and Minati Mohapatra are other women who have dominated the international cycling circuits. Esow Alben and Ronald Bira have also brought us glory.

Seen through this lens, the Pune race is not merely a sporting event. It is a cultural signal. It tells us that the bicycle is once again being taken seriously — as sport, as industry, as solution.

God speed!

–Meena

Pic: Deccan Herald

Sandow in our Lives

The end of the year is a time of going back in time and re-living memories.

And one of the enduring memories for those of us who grew up in the  1950s, 60s and 70s, is the word Sandow. It was a part of everyday lives—an integral part of the pencil box, a dirty grey rubber that erased pencil marks.

For us in India, “rubber” was the term for eraser, a usage inherited from British English and reinforced through colonial schooling. A child did not “borrow an eraser”; they asked for a rubber. And the most trusted rubber of all in our times was the Sandow.

These erasers were made of natural vulcanised rubber, not vinyl or plastic as most modern erasers are. They were firmer, slightly gritty, and erased by abrasion — scraping graphite off paper rather than gently lifting it. They left dark crumbs behind and wore down slowly. A new Sandow rubber meant clean pages. A worn one told the story of errors made and lessons learnt.

Where did Sandow rubbers come from?

The earliest Sandow erasers were almost certainly manufactured in Britain and exported to India during the late nineteenth and early twentieth centuries through British stationery suppliers. During the colonial period, Indian schools depended heavily on imported notebooks, inks, slates and erasers.

Stupid Toy Day (December 16) is a celebration of the wonderfully useless things from childhood—rubber chickens, yo-yos, slinkies, and strange plastic objects that made no sense but brought endless joy. From ridiculous toys to unsettling antique dolls that now star in creepy museum contests, this post reflects on how toys—whether silly or sinister—stay with us long after childhood ends. A nostalgic look at why useless never really meant unimportant.

After Independence, Indian factories began manufacturing erasers using similar formulations and — crucially — the same name. By the 1950s, most Sandow erasers sold in India were produced locally. However, the word “Sandow” was never firmly trademarked in India, allowing multiple manufacturers to use it freely. Over time, it became not a brand but a category. “Sandow rubber” simply meant “the regular school rubber.”

Sandows were not the only erasers available. There were white, scented rubbers, with a gel-like coloured top. But alas, most of us never possessed one, given they were about four or five times more expensive!

And a Strongman called Sandow

Another Sandow (though of older vintage) was part of our childhoods too. He lived on barbershop calendars and tattered posters: a muscular European strongman frozen in permanent flex.

Eugen Sandow (1867–1925) was a Prussian-born showman, athlete and entrepreneur who became the world’s first international bodybuilding celebrity. He toured Europe, Britain and America performing feats of strength before royal families and packed audiences.

Sandow was much ahead of his time, and would have done great in the current days, surely becoming a hero of Insta reels, posing as he did to deliberately display his muscularity. He was also a businessman. He published training manuals, endorsed health products, sold exercise equipment, and promoted physical culture as moral discipline. King George V even appointed him “Professor of Scientific and Physical Culture” in Britain — a title that further elevated his image as a respectable authority on fitness.

In India, encounters were through his images — black-and-white posters, calendar art, tins, and labels that travelled through imperial trade routes. But nevertheless, his name was well known, whether with urban kids or rural youth.

Were the rubber and the strongman officially connected?

There is no evidence that Sandow ever licensed his name to an eraser manufacturer. No contract, no advertisement, no endorsement exists in any reliable archive.

However, the naming may have had a connection. The two existed at around the same time, and the name ‘Sandow’ symbolised durability, strength and European modernity. Calling an eraser “Sandow” suggested that it would last, work hard and not fail easily. In an era with loose branding laws, borrowing famous names for product credibility was common.

Today…

Now, erasers come in neon colours and cartoon shapes. Eugen Sandow is remembered only by historians and fitness professionals. But for those who grew up in that older India, the word still carries a double image: fingers dusted with graphite, and a chest forever flexed on fading paper.

Sandow was never just an eraser.
And Sandow was never only a man.

Both were a part of our simple, innocent youth!

–Meena

Photocredit: Wikipedia for Mr. Sandow

ebay for the Vintage Tin advertising the eraser

Educating for Head, Heart & Hands: Gujarat Vidyapith

2 October marks the birth anniversary of Mahatma Gandhi. On this day much is written and spoken about Gandhiji’s movements to free India from the shackles of British rule. The non-cooperation movement, the Swadeshi movement, the Salt Satyagraha and other non-violent movements were all part of the nationwide stir to lead India to become an independent, self-reliant nation. Amidst all this, not much is discussed about Gandhiji’s deep thinking and initiatives in the field of education.

Gandhiji began experiments with education with younger children in the Kochrab and Sabarmati Ashrams during 1915-1920. In 1920, when he launched the non-cooperation movement, Gandhiji appealed to everyone to boycott schools and colleges imparting British colonial education propounded by Lord Macaulay. There was a huge response to this call, and thousands of students quit studies to join Gandhiji’s movement. But Gandhiji was equally concerned that the youth of the country were not deprived of education, but rather were offered an option that would provide an all-rounded education which could prepare them for the task of national reconstruction, and usher in Hind Swaraj, the India of his dream. The process towards this began with the formation of a National Education Committee which was chaired by Gandhiji. The committee felt that the path could be the establishment of what was envisioned as Rashtriya Vidyapiths (National Universities) which would promote educational institutions run by Indians for Indians outside the financial and governing control of British authorities. Five of these were established during this period. One of these, was Gujarat Vidyapith which was established by Gandhiji himself on 18 October 1920 (the only university set up by Gandhiji). Its foundation was an important event in the Satyagraha movement.

Gandhiji’s vision for the institution was to prepare a generation of dedicated, sincere, fearless, and honest students who contributed to a self-sufficient, non-violent, and egalitarian nation.

On 15 November 1920, Gandhiji launched Gujarat Mahavidyalaya, an affiliated college under the aegis of the Rashtriya Mahavidyalaya. The inaugural event was held  in the compound of Dahyabhai Mehta’s bungalow in Kochrab village at 8.30 a.m.   Dahyabhai had provided his bungalow for setting up the university. The historic photograph of the group present for this was taken by artist Ravishankar Raval who was the only one in Ahmedabad then who could operate a camera. Raval recalled the event in his memoirs. The proceedings began with a Punjabi song sung by Saraladevi Chowdhrani. It was followed by Bapu’s speech. After speeches of the registrar, and a few teachers, the event ended with the pledge “Bharat Hamara Desh Hai”. By 1923 more than 30,000 students were part of Gujarat Vidyapith.

Gandhiji was declared as the Chancellor of the University for life. Professor A T Gidwani was its founder Vice-Chancellor. After Gandhiji, the post of chancellor was held by Sardar Vallabhbhai Patel, Dr. Rajendra Prasad and Morarji Desai. Later, many more institutions, colleges and schools were affiliated to the Vidyapith.

Today Gujarat Vidyapith itself functions as a university dedicated to holistic Head, Hand, and Heart education based on Gandhian principles, whereas Gujarat Mahavidyalaya serves as a specific academic unit for students within that framework. 

Up to 1930, the languages like Gujarati, Marathi, Bengali, Sanskrit, Persian and English and the subjects like History, Arithmetic, Philosophy, Economics, Accountancy, Music, Political Science, Pharmacy, Archaeology and Indian studies were taught in Gujarat Vidyapith at graduation level. The Vidyapith stopped functioning temporarily during the civil disobedience movements of 1930 to 1935, both the students and faculty members participated actively in the freedom struggle, many of them courting arrest. Again, during 1942 to 1945, during the Quit India movement the functioning of Vidyapith came to a standstill. After the year 1945, the Vidyapith started its activities once again.

Since then Gujarat Vidyapith, as it is called, has expanded considerably. But its main objective continues to be preparing workers of character, ability, culture and dedication for the conduct of movements connected with the regeneration of country in accordance with the ideals shared by Mahatma Gandhi. According to Gandhi, the aims of education are the holistic development of the individual, encompassing the physical, intellectual, emotional, and spiritual dimensions (hand, heart, and head). Education should lead to self-reliance, cultivating character, truth and non-violence. Participation in productive work with a sense of dignity of labour should foster self-reliance through practical skills; acceptance of equality of religions; priority for the need of village dwellers in all curricula should engage individuals in service to society have been guiding principles.

The emphasis is on more than the academics (through use of mother tongue as a medium of instruction); it is the cultivation of the heart and hands. This involves regular participation in community work, social service, community prayers, simple and self-reliant living, study tours and field studies, hand spinning and training in craft work, physical exercise and training in manual work.

For more than a century Gujarat Vidyapith has nurtured generations of learners who have been inspired by the life and teachings of Gandhiji to carry forward the legacy of truth, non-violence and social change, following the path of dialogue and understanding. The Vidyapith has strived to keep alive Gandhiji’s philosophy of education which prioritizes holistic development, self-reliance and service to humanity. Character, compassion and community, and inclusivity remain its cornerstones. Today more than ever before, we need such institutions, and our young people need to be reminded that education should encompass Head, Heart and Hands.

–Mamata

Follow the Child: Maria Montessori

Montessori is a word much-used today in early education and there is an explosion of what are self-described ‘Montessori’ schools. These are often housed in modern buildings, equipped with a surfeit of the latest ‘equipment’, and accordingly charging high fees. Perhaps not many of the parents who rush to book admission for their child in such a school, almost as soon as it is born, may know much more about Montessori than the name.

The original story behind the schools, and the name that distinguishes these schools is very different. It is the story of Maria Montessori an educator, scientist, physician, innovator, philosopher, feminist and humanitarian.

Maria Montessori was born on 31 August 1870 in Chiaravalle, Italy, the only child of Alessandro and Renilde Montessori. Her parents moved to Rome when she was five years old. A curious, strong-willed girl, Maria, from a young age took paths that defied the norms of her times. After completing high school, instead of going in for teaching, a conventional occupation for girls at the time, she applied to medical school but was refused admission. So she enrolled in the university where she studied physics, mathematics and natural sciences; and reapplied to medical school. She was eventually admitted in 1890, one of the first women in medical school in Italy. In the face of many obstacles because of her gender, Maria qualified as a doctor in 1896. She was also beginning to get involved in the movement for women’s rights.

As a practising doctor Maria became known not only for her skills in treating patients but equally for working with the poorest, and the respect she showed to patients of all social classes. She also joined as a volunteer for a research programme at the psychiatry clinic of the University of Rome, where she became deeply interested in the needs of children with learning disabilities. She went on to become co-director of a new institution called the Orthophrenic School which focussed on such children. During her work here she became convinced that instead of writing off such children as ‘retarded’, they needed the right support. This theory was radical for that time. She also travelled to London and Rome to learn more, and when she came back she spent hours in developing and experimenting with materials and methods, using ideas from the founders of kindergarten, Froebel and educators Itard and Seguin. Her experiments began to show positive results.

Maria continued her academic pursuits with studies of educational philosophy and anthropology, and from 1904-1908 she was a lecturer at the Pedagogic School of the University of Rome. During this period Rome was in economic decline, leading to widespread poverty and the growth of many ghettos. One such was an area called the “Quartiere di San Lorenzo” which was known as the shame of Italy. Here children of desperately poor parents who were out all day trying to earn a living, were left to their own devices in unsanitary and chaotic conditions. These children ran wild, destroying property, and indulging in anti-social behaviour. The authorities were looking for a solution to this huge problem. Maria was offered the opportunity to work with these children, using the materials that she had been developing when she was working with children with special needs. Maria took up the challenge.

As Dr Montessori recalled later: “One room was set aside for this purpose, resembling in every way a children’s prison. It was hoped that a person would be found with enough social courage to tackle the problem. I in my capacity of medical officer of hygiene was approached to take an interest in the work. Having considered the situation I demanded that at least the commonest aids in hygiene, food and sanitation be made available. On the 6th of January 1907 this room was inaugurated to collect the 50 children

But while everyone had had the idea that by giving houses and sanitation, the people would be purified, no one had taken in consideration the children; no one had thought to bring toys or food for them. When the children, ranging between the ages of 2 to 6 entered, they were dressed all alike in some thick, heavy, blue drill. They were frightened and being hindered by the stiff material, could move neither arms nor legs freely. Apart of their own community they had never seen any people. To get them to move together, they were made to hold hands. The first unwilling child was pulled, thus dragging along the whole line of the rest. All of them were crying miserably.”

Thus opened the first Casa de Bambini (Children’s House). A pioneering experiment in working with 50 poorest of poor and illiterate two to six-year-old children. Maria began with using the activities and materials that she had developed at the Orthophrenic School. She closely observed the children with a scientist’s approach, noting which ones engaged them and discarding the ones that did not. Her observations led her to realize that children who were placed in an environment where activities were designed to support their natural development had the power to educate themselves. As she said when recalling the opening of the first Casa di Bambini: “I don’t know what came over me but I had a vision and inspired by it, I was enflamed and said that this work we were undertaking would prove to be very important and that someday people would come from all parts to see it.”

The results that followed were so surprising that working for children soon became her life’s work. As she later wrote: “In order to follow them, I changed my whole life. I was nearly 40. I had in front of me a doctor’s career and a professorship at the university. But I left all because I felt compelled to follow them and to find others who could follow them, for I saw that in them lay the secret of the soul.”

By 1909 Maria gave her first training course in her new approach to around 100 students. Her notes from this period provided the material for her first book published that same year in Italy, appearing in translation in the United States in 1912 as The Montessori Method, and later translated into 20 languages. The rest, as they say is history. The experiment at Casa di Bambini grew into a movement. Montessori societies, training programmes and schools sprang up all over the world. Dr Montessori herself travelled across the world, giving talks. But through her life she emphasized: “It has nothing to do with any educational method of the past, nor with any educational method of the future. It stands alone as the contribution of the child himself. Perhaps it is the first of its kind, which has been built by him step by step. It cannot have come from an adult person; the thought, the very principle that the adult should stand aside to make room for the child, could never have come from the adult.”

Today as young parents are faced with choices of educational institutions, and inundated with invitations from expensive Montessori schools, and toys and equipment, it is a good time to recall that the roots go back to very opposite circumstances. And remember Maria Montessori’s words: “Anyone who wants to follow my method must understand that he should not honour me but follow the child as his leader.”

–Mamata

Celebrating Artful Elephants

August 12 is marked as World Elephant Day. And it is also Ganesh Charurthi time. So an appropirate time to talk about elephants.

The Asian Elephant is an endangered species, with less than 50,000 left in the wild across the world. And hence the importance of marking this day as a way of raising awareness about elephants and the dangers that threaten them.

What we see is what we grow to love and respect. And hence the importance of all the depictions of elephants we see around us—from sari borders to sculptures in ancient temples to the life-sized sculptures made from invasive weeds found in the Nilgiris, crafted by indigenous communities. Each and every one of them is an opportunity for education about our biodiversity and this magnificent species.

One can understand the ubiquitousness of elephant imagery in India—after all we hold about 60 per cent of the numbers. But interestingly, it is Taiwan which was well-known for elephant imagery all over its public parks and schools, in the form of Elephant Slides.

These are the whimsical, solid, painted playground fixtures affectionately known as “Grandpa Elephant”— and they hold fond memories for a generation of Taiwanese kids, now grown.

The elephant slide was a fixture of childhood in Taiwan from the 1960s through the 1980s. Found in schoolyards and public parks, these slides were typically made from china-mosaic or concrete, with a stairway or ladder up the back and a gently curved trunk functioning as the slide.

Many bore motivational slogans etched into the sides: “Strengthen your body to build the country.” Even in play, the messaging was patriotic. But for kids? It was all about the joy of scrambling up that broad back and riding the trunk like it was the gateway to an imaginary world.

Now, with safety codes tightened and tastes modernized, many of these eleslides have disappeared. But a movement to preserve and honour them has taken root, led by artists, writers, and nostalgic grown-ups determined to keep these gentle giants from fading away completely.

A Concrete Revival

Writer Yu Chiu-ling and designer Hsiu Pi-cheng have been at the forefront of this effort. Yu founded the Facebook group “Find Our Elephant Friends,” a digital scrapbook of elephant slide-sightings across the island. Hsiu has documented over 400 slides, many tucked away behind schools or community centres, quietly waiting to be remembered.

Their work isn’t just about playground preservation — it’s about cultural memory. About honouring the handmade, the imperfect, and the deeply local.

Elephants Across Borders

Asian elephants range across. Bangladesh, Bhutan, Cambodia, China, India, Indonesia, Laos, Malaysia, Myanmar, Nepal, Sri Lanka, Thailand, and Vietnam. Strangely, there have never been elephants in Taiwan in the wild in recorded history. While elephant fossils have been found on the island, indicating their presence in prehistoric times, there is no evidence to suggest that elephants lived in Taiwan during the period of human history documented by archaeology and literature. 

But Taiwan does have the most emotionally iconic version of the elephant slide!  You will also find their cousins in parks across Japan, Thailand, Vietnam, and parts of Eastern Europe. From Soviet-era concrete sculptures to candy-coloured cartoon versions in Tokyo suburbs, the idea of turning a beloved elephant into a playmate has clearly crossed cultures. But sadly, no ele-slides in India!

Unfortunately today, both real elephants and their concrete urban renderings are endangered. One is fighting for survival in an increasingly human-dominated world. The other is quietly disappearing with changing times.

Elephants have always symbolized memory, strength, and gentleness.

Let’s protect the real ones. And let’s remember the playful ones, too.

Happy Ganesh Chaturthi!

–Meena

PIC: https://www.thisiscolossal.com/wp-content/uploads/2023/07/pi-og.jpg

Nature’s Libraries: Where the Wild Data Lives

National Librarian’s Day is celebrated on August 12th every year to commemorate the birth anniversary of Dr. S.R. Ranganathan, the “Father of Library Science in India”.

When we say “library,” most people imagine rows of books, a quiet reading room, and perhaps a stern librarian at the desk. But in the language of library science, a “library” is defined less by its shelves and more by its functions — acquiring, organising, preserving, and making knowledge accessible.

By that definition, the world is full of libraries that hold no books at all. Some store bird calls. Others archive satellite images. Some collect DNA sequences. In fact, they are not physical spaces at all. Many are vast online repositories where scientists and citizens alike can deposit, discover, and use data.

On this Librarians’ Day, let’s explore how these nature and biodiversity depositories perform the same core functions as traditional libraries — only their collections are wild, living, and often invisible to the naked eye.


Acquisition: Gathering the Wild

Libraries begin by collecting materials. In biodiversity repositories, this might mean researchers uploading recordings to Macaulay Library (Cornell Lab of Ornithology) or Xeno-canto, which crowdsource bird calls from around the world.

  • Example: iNaturalist “acquires” photographs and species observations from millions of contributors.
  • Example: GBIF (Global Biodiversity Information Facility) harvests species occurrence data from institutions and citizen scientists alike.

Just as a public library acquires books from publishers and donors, these nature libraries acquire data from field biologists, monitoring equipment, and enthusiastic amateurs.


Organisation: Making Sense of the Collection

Without organisation, a library is just a warehouse. And hence the focus on developing classification systems. Dr. S.R. Ranganathan primarily used and developed the Colon Classification (CC) system. The Dewey Decimal system is the widely prevalent one used in most libraries across the world.

Biodiversity data portals however are based on the Linnaean system of classification and organize living organisms based on evolutionary relationships. This involves classifying organisms into hierarchical groups like kingdom, phylum, class, order, family, genus, and species. This is.

  •  Example: BOLD (Barcode of Life Data System) and GenBank organise genetic sequences by species, geography, and collection method.
  • Example: ITIS (Integrated Taxonomic Information System) standardises names so scientists worldwide speak the same language.

The result? You can search for a frog by its Latin name, its genetic barcode, or the location where it was found — just like you can search for a book by title, author, or subject.


Preservation: Guarding the Record

One of a library’s noblest duties is preservation — ensuring the information remains available for future generations. In biodiversity repositories, this may involve:

  • Storing acoustic recordings (bat calls, whale songs) in durable digital formats.
  • Archiving satellite imagery in systems like NASA Earthdata and Global Forest Watch for long-term environmental monitoring.
  • Keeping herbarium records in Tropicos and long-term forest data in ForestGEO.

Like rare manuscripts in acid-free folders, these data are preserved against loss, decay, and obsolescence.


Access: Opening the Doors

Libraries thrive when they are accessible. Many biodiversity repositories are open access — anyone can explore them. And importantly, contribute to them.

  • eBird lets birdwatchers view migration patterns and personal checklists.
  • FishBase offers species profiles for students, fishers, and marine scientists alike.
  • OBIS (Ocean Biogeographic Information System) gives marine biologists open access to ocean species occurrence data.
  • Merlin helps users identify birds by their calls.

Some repositories, like Wildlife Insights or certain ethnobotanical databases, may have restricted access for sensitive data — similar to a library’s rare books section.


Dissemination: Spreading Knowledge

A library doesn’t just keep information — it shares it. Biodiversity repositories publish datasets for conservation planning, scientific research, and education.

  • Movebank shares animal movement data for migration studies.
  • TRY Plant Trait Database supports climate change modelling.
  • The Digital Himalaya Project disseminates ethnographic and ecological knowledge, bridging science and tradition.

Why These Libraries Matter

By meeting the same functional standards as a traditional library — acquisition, organisation, preservation, access, and dissemination — biodiversity depositories are not just “like” libraries, they are libraries. Their collections may be recordings instead of novels, or genetic codes instead of encyclopaedias, but the principles are identical.

In a time of rapid environmental change, these libraries are our collective memory-keepers for life on Earth. They store the songs of rare birds, the paths of migrating whales, the genetic fingerprints of endangered plants, and the traditional wisdom of communities who have lived with nature for centuries.

So this Librarians’ Day, remember: the guardians of knowledge are not only in buildings with books. They are also in digital sound archives, genetic databases, satellite imagery vaults, and underwater biodiversity surveys. Wherever knowledge is collected, cared for, and shared — there, you will find a library. Dr. Ranganathan, I am sure,  would have been excited to explore the new realms of libraries and library science!

–Meena

There are a wide range of data depositories and libraries related to nature and biodiversity across different domains—ranging from sounds (like bat and bird calls) to genetics, species observations, satellite imagery, and more. Here is a list of some of these depositories, which Chat GPT has been kind enough to put together!


🦇 Acoustic and Sound Libraries

  1. Bat Call Library – Region-specific databases like EchoBank or ChiroVox.
  2. Macaulay Library (Cornell Lab of Ornithology) – Massive archive of bird sounds, videos, and photos.
  3. Xeno-canto – Open-access database of bird calls and songs from across the world.
  4. AmphibiaWeb – Includes some amphibian vocalization data.
  5. BLB (British Library Sound Archive – Wildlife Section) – Historical and contemporary recordings of animals.

🌍 Species Observations and Biodiversity Portals

  1. GBIF (Global Biodiversity Information Facility) – Gigantic open-access database of species occurrence data from around the world.
  2. iNaturalist – Crowdsourced species observations with photos, locations, and identification support.
  3. India Biodiversity Portal – India-specific citizen science portal on biodiversity with species pages, maps, and observations.
  4. eBird – Global birdwatching database with detailed observation checklists and trends.
  5. OBIS (Ocean Biogeographic Information System) – Marine species occurrence data.

🧬 Genetics and Taxonomy

  1. BOLD (Barcode of Life Data System) – DNA barcoding records of species.
  2. GenBank – Nucleotide sequences, often used for genetic identification of species.
  3. Encyclopedia of Life (EOL) – Species information including taxonomy, distribution, and media.
  4. ITIS (Integrated Taxonomic Information System) – Authoritative taxonomic info, mainly for North America.

🛰️ Remote Sensing and Environmental Data

  1. MODIS / NASA Earthdata – Satellite data on vegetation, land cover, fires, etc.
  2. Global Forest Watch – Forest cover, loss, and gain data based on satellite imagery.
  3. NOAA Climate Data Records – Atmospheric, oceanic, and climate-related datasets.

🐾 Camera Trap and Movement Data

  1. Movebank – Open-access database for animal movement (GPS collar) data.
  2. Wildlife Insights – Global camera trap image database, AI-assisted.
  3. PanTHERIA – Ecological and life-history data of mammals.

🌿 Botanical and Ecological Datasets

  1. TRY Plant Trait Database – Global plant trait data.
  2. Tropicos (Missouri Botanical Garden) – Botanical information with herbarium specimen records.
  3. ForestGEO (Smithsonian) – Long-term forest monitoring data across the globe.

🌊 Marine and Aquatic Life

  1. FishBase – Comprehensive fish species database.
  2. SeaLifeBase – Same as FishBase but for all non-fish aquatic life.
  3. Reef Life Survey – Citizen science marine biodiversity data.

📚 Literature and Traditional Knowledge

  1. Digital Himalaya Project – Ethnographic and ecological archives.
  2. Ethnobotanical Database – Plant use in indigenous and traditional medicine.

PIC: wildlifedata.org/

Redshirting: A Parenting Trend

My grandnephew was born on June 1. When the time came for him to be admitted to class 1 the school informed that as per rules, a child should have completed 6 years of age to be eligible for starting school. This child missed the mark by one day, and hence he had to continue in kindergarten until the next year. While this child’s parents were not unduly bothered by this, several parents in similar circumstances are greatly bothered by the fact that their child was obliged to “waste a whole year” just because of the difference of one day. In ‘the race’ as it were, for the child to be always ahead, many parents today start the child on the long journey of education that lies ahead, with an anxiety of ‘being left behind’. They are concerned that the child will be older than its peers (albeit by a few months) and that this will be a continuing concern right through its education. Some parents even resort to a variety of tactics to convince the school to relax the rule, especially in cases where the child ‘misses out’ by just a couple of days.

But if we really think about it, what exactly is the child ‘missing out’ on? An early start to the rigidity of a timetable, stress of homework and the structure of a prematurely heavy academic schedule? As compared to continuing another year of the relatively more relaxed environment of pre-school? How much of a difference will this make 17 years down the line?

This race in India and, I suspect, many other countries starts where there are pre-schools that take children in even as early as one and a half years. Parents are keen that children enter the ‘system’ as it were, asap!

I recently read about an opposite take on this approach. This approach, that has adherents in the United States, advocates postponing a child’s entrance into preschool or kindergarten. This is in cases where the child meets the official enrolment age requirement but it is the parents’ decision to postpone its school entrance.

This approach is called Redshirting.

Redshirting is different from ‘holding a child back’. It is based on the judgement of a parent, who needs to gauge whether the extra year will give a child more time to mature in emotional, social and physical areas. It is anticipating that this will compensate for baseline learning difficulties as a school may not be able to give a single child the necessary attention and support. It is also incumbent upon the parents that they have the requisite wherewithal to be able to provide this attention and support.

There has been much debate on whether or not redshirting has positive or negative long-term effects on the child. The reasoning is, that holding the child back a year means that the child may be physically stronger and bigger than its peers when in first grade. Looking ahead, it may also provide the child with an advantage in athletics when it reaches high school. But at this early stage all this would be mere speculation, or simply wishful thinking!

In terms of academics some research has shown that delaying kindergarten can give a child a temporary boost as compared with its peers, as it is a year older and (presumably) more mature. This may also give the child a competitive advantage. But research has shown that this advantage disappears by the first or second grade. What is does not seem to cover is the other advantages of peer learning and socialization that kindergarten offers.

However this delay may be a sensible choice for a child who has a genuine requirement, such as a special need, physical or intellectual, or lacks the emotional maturity to handle a more structured kindergarten environment. It is proven that brain development between the ages of five and six is very significant. In such cases coming into school with an extra year of development may be helpful for the child.

Research supports the idea that early education is critical to developing young students’ learning and social-emotional skills and also crucial to their long-term academic success. However it is controversial whether delaying a child’s entry to school helps or hinders this process.  

More intriguing is the term itself. Why ‘redshirting’? The origin can be traced back to sports, particularly college sports, where redshirting refers to the practice of student-athletes sitting out a year of competitive play to extend their eligibility or develop their skills. The term is said to have originated in the late 1930s at the University of Nebraska, where Warren Alfson, a player, wore a red practice jersey without a number, as Nebraska’s team colour was red. This practice of wearing a red shirt during practice to differentiate from players who were competing became associated with the concept of redshirting. 

Interestingly ‘redshirting’ became a popular trend following the publication, in 2008, of Malcolm Gladwell’s bestselling book Outliers. Based on data from the ages of the players for the Canadian Hockey League, the book claimed that the players who were born in the first four months of the year, and thus older than the other team members, were more likely more likely to be identified as talented and ultimately more likely to play professional hockey. Following from this Gladwell argued that the same principle extends to children who are older than their classmates, in that they may have an academic advantage.  

In a sports-crazy society like America, some parents reason that by holding the child back for a year, it will potentially be physically stronger and larger than its peers once it reaches high school, providing it with an advantage in athletics.

It is difficult to prove either way. Redshirting may have benefits for some children, but it is not a guarantee for any future advantage; it may even go the other way. Personally I find it rather difficult to make sense of this trend. And wonder if being a year younger or older than your classmates is likely to have such profound and life-changing consequences. What does ring true is this observation: ‘America is living on a calendar of age; age determines when we can start school, drop out of school, drive, vote, work, consume alcohol, buy tobacco. Age, by society’s standards determines individuals’ readiness, maturity, and ability to handle certain situations. America has let age define an individual’s experience and progression beyond just celebrating another year of life.’

–Mamata

Casting a Spell

The Indian-American domination of a peculiarly American phenomenon—the Spell Bee—is something that intrigues me no end. Not to say Indian-Americans don’t excel in many pursuits out there, but these kids winning the national level spelling competitions year after year after year after year is quite something.

The American tradition of spelling competitions may have started with the Puritans. By the mid-18th century, spelling competitions were common across the country. In 1750, Benjamin Franklin apparently recommended their use in a proposal for a school. Spelling challenges were quite the rage with both adults and children in the 19th century. Mark Twain apparently mentions ‘spelling fights’ in Adventures of Tom Sawyer!

The use of the term ‘bee’ for these competitions started in the mid 1870s. It is an unusual usage of the word, as ‘bee’ usually refers to a community activity with a shared goal—like quilting bees or knitting bees.

English, with words from various sources and a variety of languages, probably peculiarly lends itself to this pastime. Afterall, I don’t think there can be much confusion how 99% of words are spelt in Tamil or Kannada or Oriya– languages with phonetic writing systems do not have so much confusion in spelling. Moreover, because English has borrowed words from many languages through its history, the result is a diverse vocabulary with inconsistent spelling patterns which are carried over from the mother-languages.

In the US, the National Spelling Bee, as we know it today, was established in 1925. The Louisville Courier-Journal was the first sponsor, who saw it as a way to foster interest in spelling and language. 

The E.W. Scripps Company acquired the rights to the National Spelling Bee in 1941. This company was started by E.W. Scripps who founded The Penny Press, a daily newspaper in Cleveland. Today, the company is involved in investigative documentaries and enterprise journalism with the purpose to ‘…advancing understanding of the world around us.’

The Spell Bee has been held annually, in late May or early June since its inception, except for a few years during World War II and in 2020 due to COVID-19.  It has evolved over time, beyond just spelling, encompassing vocabulary development and broader language knowledge. 

The first winner of the Spell Bee, in 1925, was Frank Neuhauser of Louisville, whose winning word was “gladiolus”. The next year saw a girl winning for the first time– Pauline Bell, also of Louisville, who spelt the word “cerise”. (Incidentally, girls won nine consecutive competitions from 1932 to 1940.)

Now coming to winners of Indian origin. 30 of the last 36 competitions have been won by them. Which is surely not a chance thing. Before 1999, there were only two spelling bee winners of Indian-American descent—Balu Natarajan in 1985, with the word “milieu”, and Rageshree Ramachandran in 1989 with “elegiacal”.  Nupur Lala opened the floodgates in 1999 winning with “logorrhoea,” and there has been no looking back since then! This year of course we celebrate Faizan Zaki, a 13-year-old Indian-American student from Texas, who won with the word ‘éclaircissement”

Rebecca Sealfon who won in 1997 against Prem Murthy Trivedi, has done some analysis on the subject of Spell Bee competitors, and tells us that children practice for about 500 hours in the years in which they compete; some hire ex-competitors as coaches; and they typically and unsurprisingly relax by playing word games like Scrabble or Boogle. Some try to learn every word in the dictionary. She further tells us that double ‘ll’ words are the ones which have tripped up a large number of contestants, along with the words ‘metastasize’ and ‘metonymy’.

Since I don’t know many of these words, and would certainly not be able to spell them, I can only express my wonder at these sub-14 year olds who can.

Kudos to all of you! You have cast a spell on me!

–Meena

Pic: https:spellingbee.comblogscripps-cups