Why the teacher you are not respecting?

There are some of us who focus on the drive. Then there are people like me who can't even get a car started before making sure that the seat is positioned just right, air vent at the perfect angle and music at precisely the right volume. These are the people who are so meticulous at times that you want to kill yourself when you ask them for a hand. Sometimes you'd like to do that when they ask you for a hand as well.

Miraculously, I managed to find two chums to indulge me for almost 2 hours as I brainstormed over catchy names for this blog. Strong contenders like MNOP(Madras Nitwit out in Portland) and 'apunboleto' were immediately rejected. Others weren't available names on blogger.com which got me thinking about exactly how many jobless Madrasi nitwits were really out there to fight over my title, dorky as it is.

As I jotted down a zillion names, I could hear BSNL's automated lady admonishing me

"Please wait, You are in Queue!"

I continued to scribble some more and she literally reached out of the telephone cable to smack me , "I said WAIT, damn it!"

Smarting from the chiding, I got thinking about the last time I'd heard someone use words like 'queue(line)', 'flat(apartment)' and 'toilet(restroom)'. Six years in America can make you forget some endearing things from home. And so, like the venerating students we promised we'd be in highschool, I've decided to polish my pair of goody shoes and dedicate this first posting to memories from our schooling years when teachers selflessly taught us the beauty of Indian English.

Built on the foundation of implicit discipline, our 50-year old school has grown to become one of the best institutions in South India, a fact our Principal was only too happy to remind us at any given opportunity. Morning assembly was a laborious ordeal especially on Mondays when we were expected to wear a stifling polyester white uniform. It never occurred to any of us back then to find out exactl y why we needed to wear white. Catching up over weekend atrocities, we would pay no heed to repeated calls over the microphone until Mr.Simon, the Phy.Ed teacher, yanked us by the ear to get us in line.

"Both the three of you, stand in a straight line!"

Aren't lines supposed to be straight anyway ? You can have a set of lines make up a jagged,crooked design but the line segments themselves are straight,right ?

Getting clarity on queries like these was supremely important if we were expected to set shining examples in future. While we debated on this, our Vice-Principal had other plans.

"I still hear whispering in the lines! This row,no not that row, this row...this row! Yes, the boy in the middle! Yes you! Standing behind the tall boy!"

A hundred boys would now perspire profusely since there existed every possibility that she was referring to any of them. As they wiped their glasses to focus on her finger, the tall boys would graciously step aside to strip them of any cover.

Eventually the offender would be identified and unceremoniously sent to the back of the line wherein he would have to join the late-comers and the defaulters(no shoes,uniform unironed etc).

"Pin drop silence I want.....Join your hands, close your eyes and get ready for prayer"

45 minutes of Sanskrit prayers would be followed by a "Thought for the day" which no one usually pondered over save the unlucky student who had to deliver a short speech on that topic that day.

"The thought for the day is cleanliness. As we all know, cleanliness is next to godliness..." he stuttered as he tried to tuck in his shirt and rub off a smudge on his shorts.

Spending the next few minutes regurgitating everything he had memorised over the last hour, the boy would wrap his speech by repeating the thought, a truth which had slipped his mind altogether.

"So I'd like to end my speech by repeating our thought for the day which is....umm...."

The noble souls that we were, one of us would save him from potential embarrassment just so we could get dismissed from assembly and head to class soon.

Back in class, an hour of Physics wit h the Doctor lady started the morning on a bad note.

"Who can tell me the colours in the rainbow?" she'd demand with an authority that made you believe she was hiding the rainbow beneath her sari's pallu so that you wouldn't cheat.

"Green?Red?Blue?..."

The surprise in her exclamations would make you question your own faith in the colours of the rainbow (notice I spelled colours with a 'u'!).

"Brown?!!! Adityan, may a barrell of water be emptied on your hollow head!"

Convinced that she could never make physicists out of us, Doctor lady would stomp off to let LaRa begin Chemistry lessons.

"Open the window please, let the atmosphere come in..."

After ensuring that the 'atmosphere' had entered, she focussed her attention on home work.

"Who can say me the answer to last week's problem?You (pointing to me)?"

Naturally I had no idea about the answer.

"Say me the answer!Come on, say me!"

I wanted to correct her but I didn't dare correct a Chemistry teacher when I hadn't completed my homework.

"Ma'am, I cant really say you the answer!"

My honesty and deference was rewarded with a dirty look and I promptly found myself sent out of the class and standing in the corridor(not hallway).

I spent the next few minutes admiring an excited crow when a 6th grade volunteer r an down the corridor for dear life.

"The VP was passing away in second floor!"

No reason to panic. Our beloved Vice-Principal was making one of her unannounced rounds but this wasn't a good sign either.

Spotting me in the corridor, she stopped in her tracks , "What is the head-going problem?" (typical Tamil-English transliteration)

I explained the story behind my imposition without exagerrating details.

"How could you be able to tell like that, tell me now?"

Was that supposed to be a trick question?

The one class I thoroughly enjoyed every week was English with RC. This lady revolutionised the way we learnt English and our contempt for the easiness of the subject was replaced by excitement. For starters, she launched a language lab exclusively for this purpose-an idea which shocked and horrified teachers in math and science. How could anyone desecrate their sacred temple by posting spelling bee charts and word puzzles!

English hour would follow right after lunch and the occasional slacker who was delayed by a few minutes didn't find it easy to slip in.

"Can I come in,Ma'am?", he'd spit out and proceed to step in before she could response.

One cold icy stare.

"You can but you may not."

With that he'd be sent right out again until he had learnt to correct himself.

"May I come in,Ma'am?"

Her temper was usually shortlived and within seconds, a familiar warmth would exude from her kind face as she lectured us on gerunds and infinitives.

"Dear Madam, I kindly request you to exempt my ward from submitting his homework today as he was ill with fever yesterday.", she read out aloud as a cheeky guy stared at the ceiling, fit as a fiddle.

"Your parents cannot be kind to request us to exempt you from anything. It is our decision to be kind in that regard!" she laughed out clearly aware that he had written that letter himself.

The instructor for the next hour had not presented herself after English hour had ended. Like a dutiful puppy, the Assistant Class Leader (ACL) would trot off to the staff room to fetch her.

My Indian friends will agree here that it is customary in Indian schools to not address teachers by their first names. The title "Ma'am" is supremely respectful and at times, not too specific either.

"Excuse me,Ma'am" stammered the nervous ACL as she found a group of teachers gossipping in the staff room.

Several teachers looked up and this got the ACL flustered completely.

"Not you , Ma'am. That Ma'am, Ma'am!" she whispered pointing at the teacher who had to be fetched.

Returning to the classroom with the teacher waddling behind her, the ACL rested after completing a significant accomplishment for the day.

"It's so stuffy in here. Hey the fan is OFF. Can someone ON it?" asked the teacher, fanning herself with the end of her sari.

"Before I forget, you all have to return the forms I gave to you last week. Also, did you read the news about Board examinations becoming tougher this year?"

None of us planned to worry about the Board examinations until we had actually graduated to class 10 when they would be administered to us.

"You should be given a glance in the paper everyday. You can be able to improve your knowledge by that way", commented the teacher, shaking her head in disappointment.

Scanning the forms she had collected, she flagged one out.

"Ajay, you didn't fill in your date of birth. When you came in the Earth?"

Yes,we Indians do take incarnations and reincarnations seriously!

The humour did not go unnoticed and as some students let out muffled grins, her ears pricked up.

"What the reason is for noise? Simply for no reason only you are laughing in back row. I always say backbenchers are worst case"

The school bell chiming at 4pm was drowned in a sea of shuffling shoes as desks got cleared, scales(rulers!) were put away, geometry boxes snapped shut and book-bag(not backpacks!) clips fastened tight.

"Those who didn't submit, bring forms tomorrow without fail!" yelled the teacher as we swarmed around her to head to the door.

"Leave it, that one Ma'am!" we yelled back before heading across the street to Anand Bread House to see if Coca Cola was finally available in aluminium cans.

Ten years have passed since we walked out of those portals. When we bump into one of those teachers these days, it amazes us that they remember every single one of us fondly along with the antics we were infamous for. The pride you see in their eyes humbles us in no small measure.
Here's to you fine teachers! Sree Gurubhyo Namaha!