TIMES I DIED TO GO TO SCHOOL

 “Be such a student that when you go to a teacher,

the teacher will feel himself like a student.”

Mehmet Murat ildan

 

It’s almost two months since I posted my last Blog. The last Blog was on the eve of my birthday. It was titled after Jim Reeves' popular song – ‘Where Do I go from Here’.

Frankly, this question keeps haunting me for long... “Should I keep doing what I have been doing for years?”… Or, “Is there something new, something fresh I need to do through my years ahead?”… “If teaching, training and writing – including blogging – have given me the maximum joy in life, will they still continue to give me the same kind of joy and fulfilment?” … And this: "Am I doing all these things just to keep my kitchen fire burning – that is, for my survival?”

Yes, these questions ceaselessly haunt me…

I think, they should.

Else, ‘freshness’ doesn’t come in life…

Else, Life becomes a  drudgery… a survival game.

Thus, even though my head and heart did come across thousands of little stories in these two months, I chose to stand aside and let those stories just pass by…

Stories needed no validation from me…

I just let them be!

Well, during these two months, I did focus on a book about my Mom (87), who, after her fall exactly a year ago, has been sinking in her health… She is immobile now, totally dependent on help from my elder brother, Franklin,  and his wife, Merlyn. Mom has dementia… She doesn’t recognize any of us or anything that is going on around us… Such an active, alert soul, such a positive and zestful soul… today, she is reduced to this state of helplessness. My book will be brought out soon… It’s titled -  ‘The Good Shepherd and Her Lost Sheep’…

I needn’t tell you who the Good Shepherd and the Lost Sheep are!

This morning, in one of my early batches, a young boy asked me playfully: ‘Sir, were there days, while you were a student, when you did not feel like going to school?" (Classes didn’t exist in those days, at least in a village like ours!)

Obviously, the boy was voicing on behalf of his batchmates… So, there was a sudden burst of laughter in the class… They were eager to hear what would their 64-year-old teacher say…

“I, too, joined the playfulness. After the laughter subsided, I asked the boy – “Do you want an honest reply or a dishonest one?”

“Of course, an honest reply Sir,” the boy said.

I recalled the dread I felt remembering Narayana Master while I was in class 5 in the local primary school. He was extremely strict and possessed a ‘Nagara Bettha’ – a cane stick which resembled a serpent. He punished us with it to discipline us… We feared him… There were times, I dreaded going to school… Mom would nudge me and send… On my way, I would look around if anyone noticed me… and then, quickly kneel down on the road, raise my hands up unto heavens and say in my mind, “Dear God, let Narayana Master remain absent today!”

“Do you do it, too, my young friends?” I asked.

They laughed even more…

When laughter subsided, I told them this… “And, there were,  moments, I just longed to be in my class…

I narrated, how Satyavati teacher would so beautifully sing us the story called ‘Punyakoti’… This poem was about a hungry tiger and an honest cow. As little kids in class 1 and 2, Satyavati teacher’s compassionate teaching made us rush to school…

I, also, told my young students about my admiration for Prof. B. S. Raman when he was teaching us during our three-years in the degree college. He was the one who ignited the burning desire in my bosoms to become a fine teacher and a writer. I hadn’t spoken to Raman Sir – one-on-one – for all those three years… I had just sat in a classroom of over hundred students (only boys) and admired him, desired to become like him. He, too, was extremely strict… But, then, I admired him for his strictness and commitment. Yes, the Law of Attraction did the rest… “What you deeply admire, you attract!”

I told about two other teachers who impacted my life. Our class teacher in class 10 – Alexander Sir – a tall, roaring and strict personality – yes, how he concealed his cotton-soft heart behind the veneer of strictness. I recounted his gentle touch towards me which guided me never ever to look down upon students who were economically deprived.

I told my young ones about Monteiro Sir, who was such a fine teacher of Mathematics. This Sir had an elephant leg… “Have you guys seen someone with an ‘elephant leg’?” I asked my young boys and girls.

They hadn’t.

I described to them as to how this teacher would come with those leaking – over one-foot-broad leg - to school… How, after he wasn’t able to come to school, he continued to teach at his hall room  scores of students – lying on his bed, pillows tucked behind… but with the same passion and commitments… yes, till his last breath!

Yes, I narrated to my young students all these stories about my own teachers. I told them how these stories had helped me go to various schools and colleges to hold a programme for the teachers, captioned – ‘Am a Teacher by Design? Or Am a Teacher by Default?’

The entire period, today, went with this… It was all triggered from a playful  question: ‘Sir, were there days, while you were a student, when you did not feel like going to school?”

 

GERALD D’CUNHA

Pic's.: pixabay 

Video: infobells Kannada