Teacher's day ramblings

This is the first time I will be writing rather jotting down my ramblings on teacher's day. Incidentally Teacher's Day is coinciding with Labor Day (celebrated on first Monday of September) in the part of the globe I live in so for me it has become a day of celebration of major contributors to our society. First of all I would like to remember all my teachers and thank (in reality thank will be too little a word) them for having played a part in shaping my life.With all humbleness I wish best to you all from the core of my heart.

Whenever we converse about teachers, two teachers come to my mind rather are always in the background of my mind. One teacher, Professor M.K.Raina has been directly associated with my academic life although for a short span but had a profound effect on it. The second teacher who had a major effect on my life was my mother. But here I won't talk about that effect on me but about how she took her profession rather responsibility of being a teacher.

My mother was teacher by profession but to her it was more than a professional responsibility. She had not been able to study beyond her 12th standard but in those times that was good enough qualification for one to be a teacher. My understanding of her sense of responsibility crystallized after I entered my 8th standard. Till then we, me and my brother had only seen the strictness of her professional responsibilities in the form that we always had to unlock the door of our house after returning from school and then take care of ourselves. We had devised a way to keep the keys to different entrances at different places. Then we would have to feed ourselves and this would be a routine on most of the days. Mom would usually arrive once we would be usually partly done with our supper. So that always made us feel that our mom is a disciplinarian who strictly follows the time schedules that school has set for them. That was also visible in the mornings which involved preparing breakfast and arranging lunch for four of us, cleaning things, attending kitchen-garden (which was like a passion for her) and in all this ensuring that she doesn't miss to reach school in time. Truly speaking at times it was annoying when you would see her not walking but virtually skating inside our house.

My mom in addition to teaching other subjects to students of relatively lower standards was delegated the responsibility of teaching mathematics to 7th standard students. There had been addition of new concepts in the revised syllabus and she hadn't much training of these new chapters. Now that was kind of difficult but she had taken the responsibility so she had to find a way to deal with it. Incidentally I was good at mathematics and have been usually considered a calm and patient type of guy (my wife and my brother have different thoughts), essentially good traits to teach someone. So my mom decided that I would be her mathematics 'teacher'. I don't know how many teachers actually do it. Technically it was me who was teaching her but in reality it was me who was getting the most important lesson of my life that when it comes to learning, difference of any sort between a teacher and a learner shouldn't matter.

Winters in Kashmir mean home schooling for most of the kids. Now the tuition system has crept rather taken roots in the Kashmiri education system. During our days it mainly meant seeking help from a proficient cousin, an uncle, a family friend or group studies. So we had a regularized everyday schedule for winter days. In that schedule my mom managed to fix time for her 'classes' but only after I would finish all my tasks. A battle between a mother's responsibility and between being a teacher and she managed to win both. So how would the teaching proceed? I would teach her few fundamentals and she would do few exercises when I was around. Then like an over zealous student she would take 'home-work' and set me free to do whatever I wanted. She will then do that h/w and discuss it with me. It might seem somewhat funny that she had to learn concepts of 7th standard but she didn't pretend she knew things and didn't deceive her students. And that is what always makes me think about her commitment towards her responsibility. Rest In Peace mummy as I used to call you rather still call you and I am sure many of your students will be wishing same for you whether it be a Teacher's day or a Student's Day or any other day.

Enough ranting about my mother. While I was in bed yester-night the Facebook status updates of most of my back home friends about Teachers Day flashed before me. Whenever I have to point out one teacher who somehow had an impact on me Prof.M.K.Raina comes to my mind. He won't be even remembering me because our association was for a very short duration and there aren't good reasons for him to remember me. Because I didn't fulfill the reasons for which he actually taught me. He would teach us Zoology in the Pre-Medical coaching classes in Sachdeva New P.T college Jammu. Till that time biology was like something I wouldn't get along with. Not that I would be understanding or enjoying other subjects very much but there was a sort of barrier between me and biology. So biology was either too tough to understand or there were some other reasons to it.

I still remember Raina sir's face, his greying moustache, his strict and tough looking face, had his own sense of humour but would himself never laugh not even smile, the way he would approach the black board or turn to address the students, in short he had an aura around himself. But these are not the things I actually remember him for. They have perhaps formed a part of the baggage of memory associated with him. It is not even the way he taught in the class that would have been part of my memory but what his teaching brought out from me makes him memorable for me. He taught to an extent that you had to tantalize your brain. One couldn't shut after that. So began our interactions and those weren't good for those classes because PMT classes are so time bound and have to be result oriented that one can't afford to diversify much. So our 'conversations' would spill beyond class hours but he wouldn't encourage me. Not that he did not like them but he would always suggest me that they were beyond the scope of his classes there and were not required. But as I said one couldn't shut oneself and he would always try to respond and satisfy your queries but in a quite dismissing or displeasing way. Therefore, gradually I learnt to curb my instincts and he could feel it but never encouraged me to speak.


One particular incident occurred after which he 'cursed' me or wished something different for me and that is what I am doing right now (I am not talking of writing this blog but what I actually do). He was teaching us 'actin-myosin interactions' during muscle contraction and he was explaining it with such intensity that one could have imaginary visuals of these molecules in action. He had a feel of my pulse and I still remember when he turned towards us and his eyes seeking me and asking in his coarse voice "Bol kya bolna hai (Speak what do you want to)". I always think I asked the most stupid thing. My question was 'Actin and Myosin are two chemical entities how could they behave like a joint and hinge?' And I still remember that scene as if it has happened yesterday? He asked me to stand up, which I did and after that he was like on rampage. He roared that I was not meant to study medicine and best thing for me will be to conduct research to see for myself how things worked. I still remember those animations when he said "Ek mota sa cheshma laga hoga (his animation was while speaking this), lab mein pada rahay gaa aur tab samajh mein aayay gee tairay (You will get thick lens spectacles, will work for long hours in laboratory and then get to understand)". I felt so upset that I was almost in tears because those animations and other stuff were very hard to understand and absorb at least at that time. I firmly resolved that I will never again talk in the class.


But life always has different plans and executes them in its own way. Few days after this incident he offered me a ride while we were leaving from the institute. There he spoke his mind, I suppose heart and tried to bring clarity in my thinking. He made me realize why I was in his classes, what my parents wanted me to do and what I wanted to do? He explained to me why my this way of thinking was diagonally opposite to those priorities. He suggested me that if these things really interested me I should think of going for research and not join medicine. I remember that conversation and never took it seriously and tried my best to get into medicine. Countless attempts, but could never make it! And made many attempts at changing the direction of my profession/career but all of them ended as failures.


So what do I now? The same things that Raina Sir 'cursed' me to do. And importantly I love to do it. Although this profession is besotted with its own failings but being a part of it gives a satisfaction towards the end. The successes here are incremental rather infinitesimally incremental but those successes give you a happiness of life time.


P.S: Two entirely unrelated anecdotes but somehow they have common roots in philosophy of teaching. Teachers must always try their best to provide best to the learners, try to enthuse them, try to help them in discovering themselves, try to direct them, try to re-orient them and try to feel them and be there with them when a student needs them the most. A teacher should be able to transcend the boundaries of a classroom.