Musings on AK Ramanujan's 'Is There an Indian Way of Thinking?'

                                    Tribute to a Great Teacher

Great teachers must have empathy. They may never win awards, accolades, foreign scholarships or even have awards named after them. But they live on, for years, in the hearts of the students whom they have taught and helped to recover faith in themselves. I myself am a teacher, but I must admit that I too do not have the empathy quotient in adequate quantity.

The country’s highest award for sports coaches- the Dronacharya or Drona Award is named after a man who lacked empathy, was arrogant and biased in his attitude. After all, he asked Ekalavya, the ardent tribal boy for his thumb. Drona foresaw that Ekalavya was an excellent archer, who if encouraged, had the capability to supersede Arjuna. Ekalavya was a poor tribal boy who aspired to learn archery from the greatest Guru of ancient times- Drona. But Drona lacked empathy and wilfully destroyed the poor Nishadha boy’s deams forever.

I was lucky enough to be taught by a great teacher – Murthy sir. He joined the school sometime in January or February 1992 when I was in the tenth standard. I am a Kendriya Vidyalaya product. We had the half-yearly exams in December 1991 and my performance in the Maths paper had been a complete disaster. It was a very tough question paper set by a sadistic man who revelled in terrifying his hapless students and reducing them to senseless nincompoops. I will not dignify this vile and misogynistic man by bestowing the title of teacher on him. By no means was he a teacher. He destroyed our basic confidence in ourselves.

We were left floundering in the high seas when we began writing the Maths paper and were numb with fear, anxiety and disbelief when we left the exam hall. The results of the half-yearly would be out in a few in a few days’ time and most of us did not expect to pass. Neither did we. I got 0/100 and I was terrified and mortified. I was not a bad student but Maths was threatening to rock my placid boat. I and a couple of others had no idea about what we would do and how we would encounter this nightmare. We were literally at sea. Sleepless nights, anxiety driven days …tuitions didn’t help. School work was becoming a drag. We were supposed to write the model exams sometime in February and the big bad Board exams in the first week of March or so. We had extra classes for Maths. But nothing changed or dented our supreme lack of confidence.

And then… Murthy Sir came. He was our saviour, our anchor, our helpline. He had been transferred to our school in Cuttack and he began teaching us. A fair, middle-aged man with neatly combed hair, a placid and sensitive face and tonnes of empathy- he was our saviour. He gently tugged us ashore from the choppy and dangerous high seas of Mathematics. He understood our fears, our terror and anxiety. He made me believe that I too could decipher the world of numbers and symbols. I have always found Maths to be an inscrutable and intimidating subject.

Murthy sir was there with us, making us work intensively in school. Slowly, I developed confidence and in a month’s time we had to appear for the Boards. We did and I scored 80%, not bad for someone who had scored nil just a few weeks ago. It was all thanks to Murthy Sir. I never did thank him for that life-changing experience. As teenagers we can be so selfish and full of our dreams that we tend to be indifferent to others. I quit Maths altogether, taking the Bio-Hindi combination for eleventh standard and completely forgot Murthy sir.

Much later, when I myself started teaching, Murthy sir became my yardstick. His calm behaviour, his gentle acceptance of our ignorance and his placid manner of helping us confront our fears and solving problems has left an indelible impression on me. Murthy sir has a place in my heart as a wonderful teacher with loads of empathy. He was someone who had the insight and sensitivity to gauge our fear and bring out the best in us. That is indeed the hallmark of a great teacher.