Apart from so many prescribed International days like Father’s day, Mother’s day, Valentine day etc, every Nation too celebrates some of her own days. These days may be in the name of Independence day or the Republic day, the Father of Nation day etc. Here I am talking in reference to Indian National teacher’s day, we happen to celebrate on 5th September every year. Every school happens to celebrate this occasion. This day commemorates the services rendered by teachers that helped in building and developing the personality of students.
Remembering my teachers : Object of the story
The object of my this article is to share my childhood experiences of school days and my memories, I have got about my teachers of those days. Without any hitch, when I travel back into the memory lane, I confess, I don’t foster any sweet memory. The period of time when we were born and attained the age to get admitted into the school, was quite an uncanny. I am describing here the panorama of Indian rural life of late sixties. At that period of time, no child had had a wish or inclination to go to school. May the same tendency exist even on this day, but today’s schools are so cozy and attract children as a picnic spot.
My these memories are inclusive of experiences of all my school mates. In our time we were forced rather dragged to school by our parents for many days to come. Every day we resisted going school. Our parents by dint of force, trouncing us whole through the way to school, left us at the school premise under the aegis of teachers. There our teacher whom we called “Master ji or Massasb” in vernacular, too chastised us ceremoniously. They did it in the way, as if, it was a Commandment of God to thrash the students.
Remembering my teachers : The socialism in chastisement
Ironically, I remember those weird days, since, now I can brightly recall that the behaviour of teachers with students was based on “Socialism.” A miraculous parity or equality our Massab maintained strictly. Meant, every student in the Basic Primary school was destined to undergo physical punishment, even on a minor mistake. Regularly, we all were caned at par and ceremoniously. Back on home, when we dared to complaint to our parents, about the harsh and unjustified treatment we received in the school, it was more terrific. In return of our complaint they too happened to thrash us. To them, school punishment, in all probabilities was attributed to our personal fault. Finally, tiring on home front we gave up and yielded to our fate.
After a long lapse of time, I developed an interest in general studies and came to know something about the “Concentration camps” of Nazis. Then it dawned upon me, I already had experienced that kind of sufferings as an infant in my school days. In fact, I was so naive, I took the Concentration camps as a school initiated by Nazis for Jews. But one should be sincere in expressing his views. It’s my opinion that at the tender age of one’s infancy, the severe punishment inflicted upon were no less than Nazi’s.
Remembering my teachers : Two phases
This tragic journey, I traveled in two phases. First phase includes Basic Primary education, from first standard to fifth class. The second phase counts, the school life from sixth standard to tenth standard. The school life’s experiences of both the schools were akin to Nazi Centralization camps’ sufferings. In the first phase, in all proximity, I am trying to relate primary school experiences that located in my own village. People, who belonged to rural back ground can imagine easily about that. In the name of school, a small building roofed with corrugated tin sheets, a small play ground annexed to it.
Remembering my teachers : School life
All students, from every class at the morning time were bound to collect trash and tiny pieces of garbage. This might be the dried leaves of nearby standing trees or shreds of papers left in the previous day. Then we all had to sweep the trash with broom ceremonially. Some of us watered the flowery plants. Some privileged one, to dust off the bicycles of teachers, as a token of veneration.That was quite an old period of time. No NGO had its existence nor the army of “do nothing type journalists” existed, leave apart the U-Tubers. Had these categories of humanitarians be extant, all our teachers would be behind the bars. I can swear, in that case we all students would bravely depose our testimony against teachers. Such a degree of abhorrence we all children fostered for them.
God knows better, what kind of mania, teachers of that era developed in their mind. They had a propensity to teach students with a sincere integrity. Obviously, students didn’t have had the knack to grasp the learning. In consequence, we were subjected to severe trouncing. Neither teachers were eager to accept the defeat nor we students were inclined to learn from them. In the aftermath of that, we all underwent thrashing. Rather we preferred punishment but not learning. This trend of thrashing miraculously prevailed whole through the yearly education session.
In our Primary school, we had two teachers as Massab. One was Junior teacher, in his aegis students from 1st to 3rd standard undergo thrashing. Senior teacher or Head master was in charge of class 4th and 5th. In a way, under the aegis of Junior teacher, all little students were supposed to go though the probation of thrashing. This helped made them tough and harder to sustain the punishment inflicted on reaching in class 4th and 5th.
A weird custom, our both teachers observed. They happened to send us, to bring freshly cut green sticks from the bushes of nearby hedges. With the same stick, they caned us daily. The terror of caning ” ventured some students to bunk the class. They after leaving for school from the home, managed to hide in some sugar cane field or in some orchard. God knows better, how our teachers suspected their absence as “machinated” one. They would deploy some strong students as “commando” to capture them. Terrified commando force, in all certainty would discover them and drag in the school.
Remembering my teachers : Exemplary teacher
The severe trouncing of such bunked students in an open session, be an exemplary of “third degree” punishment for other students. Never, the meek students like me, even could dare to plan to bunk the class. Just I mentioned about the mania of teachers, to teach the students with sincere integrity. Our senior teacher was a unique paradigm of that. He happened to visit the school daily from an afar village. His this village situated in a montane, some miles away. In between way to school, a monstrous rainy river lied. This river inundated when heavy rainfall got registered in the hilly catchment area, in the monsoon season. This phenomenon often occurs with hilly seasonal rivers, but with a relief that after some hours the water recesses.
But the senior teacher too had sought a solution for the problem. After school, on leaving for his home, he would park his bicycle, at some house or shop of this side’s adjacent village. Not only this, he even divest himself of his clad clothing, of Kurta(shirt) and pajama. This pair of cloths he would keep in the custody of owner of the place, where he parked his bicycle. Then, merely clad in indigenous Indian underwear and banyan, he happened to trudge rest of his journey. Firstly he would swim across the river and from there on foot complete his journey back to home. Next day, the reverse process he adopted back to the destination of his parked bicycle.
Remembering my teachers : Innocent prayer
His this dedication had earned him an adorable respect in the region. Never he missed his teaching class. In Monsoon season some times, when we students noticed heavy incessant torrential rainfall that lasted whole the night. Truly say, it kindled a hope in the heart of we all the students. In our innocent thinking, we imagined a rough and furious inundated river. Our teacher trying hard to swim across, and here we all poor students, with the depth of our heart praying to God. In our pray, we prayed to god to get our senior teacher drifted away and away in the water and vanishing away. But the God never gave an ear to our kind, genuine and innocent prayer. Really say, in that infant age we students too had begun to doubt about the existence of the god. This discard of prayer helped grow me like a skeptical.
Till the completion of our fifth standard, we all students were doomed to confront the bitter experience of trouncing. This made my some class mates so reluctant, they gave up the idea to continue the further study. They could not muster the courage to seek admission in the 6th standard because of the imaginary fear of being punished there.
Despite of all this deportment of teachers towards students, they succeeded to earn a high respect in the eyes of population of parents of the village. The high degree of veneration, parents endowed to them, that was not even granted to the District Magistrate. In that period of time, only two categories of government employees earned that kind of respect in our region. On the top was a teacher and another was a Patwari ( the revenue record sub inspector.) Whilst in the hierarchy of public administration, District Magistrate stood on the top wrung of the ladder and these two on the quite lower wrung. (End the first part of the story)…. Penned by__ Vinay Pharasi …..
Remembering my teachers on “National Teacher day” … Part – 2nd
Remembering my teachers on “National Teacher Day” (part 3rd)
Remembering my teachers on “National Teacher day” … (Part 4th )
Remembering my teachers on ” National Teacher day” … (concluding Part 5th)
