Illuminating my path so far

A good teacher is one who can reach out even to the dumbest of students and for anyone out there who is not a natural born genius, a teacher plays an important role in shaping who you are. In my life I have seen ten such people who are listed in the order in which I saw them. I am not comparing one with another as I know that it would be the same as asking if the left or the right eye is more important.

The first one is the first teacher I ever had. To me, the first impression was really good. She was a teacher who knew what it meant to be headstrong. I called her a ‘rowdy’ and I still do yet you can't imagine a kinder person. It is not a complaint but a compliment for she knew how to be confident. She was different to my mother in one way. She feared nothing and had what we call ‘dhill’ in huge amounts. She could talk the right way and get what she wanted anyday. All she taught me were rhymes and stories but apparently from what I remember now, I learnt a lot more

My first two teachers shared the same first name. The first is the confident teacher I mention above but the next was the exact opposite. I don’t think she even knows how to be angry. I have seen only her smile and that is all I remember of her. Her speech itself was like a song and she taught me letters and my first words. I still remember how I was pushed forward to perform on my fancy dress contest. I lost fear of the audience on that day and it is good that I did.

The next teacher came after a while. The first thing I remember when I think of her is the comical but funny phrase ‘ Arey mama’. She did not share my mother tongue this one. I remember her by the eyeliner that she wore. It was after taking her class that I could pronounce words. If today I am even a little good in speech I guess I owe it to her.

Then came the next one in a little while. She commanded the English language as though it was her slave. She had the trademark streak of white hair in her head and I was scared when she came to handle moral science for me the first time. When she began the class I knew that I had nothing to fear and a lot to awe. Today I am a guy writing poems and trying to write short stories and novels. The seed to all that I suppose was laid by her. She spoke and still speaks flawlessly in every language that she likes and has what we guys call ‘a professional approach’ written all over her.

Years passed and in my second school, I had a history teacher. People called her rocket. I wondered why. She spoke quickly, walked briskly, valued papers in a jiffy and got angry in no time but beyond all that I saw her thirst to see every student of hers achieve something. She wanted me to become a collector and I suppose I will let her down. I might end up in the IT field but I will never forget the three years of history class that she handled for me.

Moving to a new city was painful. Being picked on by a teacher was scary but when you realize that the person picks on you so that you come out of your shell and shine, life becomes good. I still remember the ‘if you smile when you listen to chemistry, it is not nice’ that she says with pun intended. Never has the class been without a laugh when she said this and due to her command in the subject and her knack in explaining, I never had difficulty in chemistry.

Physics is an awesome subject. When you have someone who can take no nonsense and yet handle the subject with absolute command, you have a dictator of a teacher. But she wasn’t so. She handled the subject so slowly and steadily. Today I regret why she does not work in a college but if she had done that, I would not have had the luck of being in her class. It only lasted a year but I finally loved physics as a subject and started to study it.

Math was some I was quick at but not accurate. My board exam year was when I got a new math teacher. As opposed to any teacher in my past, she told me I am obligated to score a centum. I regret to say that I failed her but I learnt from her that we are nothing without practice. I have never scored a centum in a major test but I will always try to do it just due to what this teacher told me.

The next one is my relative and handled lab classes for my. To be a teacher is a thing, to be applauded by students is something but to be applauded by every student is true awesomeness. She is not my mother but she told me that I am like her son. I am proud of what she said and more than proud that I am related to her. She is the strongest hearted person I know and from her, I learnt that you cannot please everyone but all you need to do is your work. I learnt this as I was her student and so did the so many who told me this very thing.

The next was my physics teacher in college. All my teachers know that I ask doubts and when I ask doubts, I rain the teacher with them. In this man, I saw only a smile when he answered my questions. At the end of three years in college, he is the only teacher I want to remember.

There are many more teachers who helped me. However this is thanks to everyone who has taught me and a special thanks to the ten. I only hope that I can attend one more of your classes

Q

Two friends

Art of friends is the name of my blog. A friend is anyone whose company you cherish. Here are two great friends I came across.

People are used to hearing grandma’s tales. To me however it was grandpa’s tales. My grandmothers, both were so intent on pleasing me with the tastiest dishes on the planet. The tales I heard from my grandfathers were the first proper bedtime tales.
I start with the maternal grandpa. I still remember his ‘Vaathapi jeernaapi’ story as though it happened yesterday. His life has not been a bed of roses but he has always found time for me. Right from the time in my childhood when he brought me snacks in a small packet during his weekend visits, to the time when he settled a feud with his brother just because I said so, he has seen me as an equal. I admire that. In an era where elders see squat in the opinion of youngsters, he has always valued my words. I write today, poems and stories in English and Tamil. If it were due to genes then I guess that I got it from him. I can never write the way he does with such skill and expertise but I can try hard to be atleast half as good. I only hope that he listens to me and quits on beetel leaves too. He has always been the first one to avoid arguments and one of the first in his generation to treat a son and a daughter equally. He has been a good and a really patient father and a really encouraging and motivating grandfather.

My paternal grandpa is a child by heart. I remember the time when we used to play cricket and he used to bowl to me with high energy and a wide smile. His stories that often used the words ‘andhaala…..’ were a joy to hear. I heard the story of sivaji ganesan’s all time classic ‘manohara’ from him and trust me, he narrated it even better. He does sincerely a puja everyday and that is something to admire. He walks as fast as I jog and never tires of it. We share the fear of syringes and trust me, syringes are scary. My dad always says that his father was a damn good one and he has played the role of a grandfather in the same damn good way. Something I can never forget is the way he plays carom. I am the only one in my family to have beaten him in a contest fair and square but it was just the once. I haven’t been able to repeat the feat. According to me, no one can ever truly beat him at his best for m. I see his creativity when he decorates the ‘golu’ during Navarathri and his inquisitiveness when he competes with me in video games.
I have had two wonderful friends. I don’t know how many have friends in their grandfathers but trust me when I say that it is awesome
Q