Teachers touch us for a period longer than the one they teach us for. In innumerable ways - by making you love the subject, pursue an idea, learn new skills or by helping you see life differently.
As a child, I changed many schools and was blessed to have access to amazing teachers in different environments. I have lost touch with so many yet I remember with clarity all that they meant to me. Some teachers I have been fortunate to connect with again, and by virtue of their being back in my life, they add happiness and value!
I hope my kids will have similar experiences with their teachers - teachers who are constantly learning and are not afraid to be corrected. Teachers who can recognise the potential in you and nurture your skills. Teachers who go beyond the call of duty and walk the extra mile to help you grow. Teachers who are not afraid to call your bluff and teach some harsh lessons. Teachers you yearn for, when you are all grown up and want to be pampered again!
I will never know if I could have been an engineer had my teachers been of a different calibre. If I had pathetic English teachers would I still have loved English? And would I been so outspoken if my teachers had not been indulgent with me! Who knows!
What I remember most distinctly are my English teachers and the ways in which they influenced my reading and writing. At Mussoorie, the young Ms Roma Narian who gifted me ‘The Jungle Book’ and Ms Pathania who made me love Desire and Napoleon and taught me that letters don’t have to start with a Dear and Hi. The lovely Sharmila Purkayastha at IP who made Wuthering Heights even more hauntingly beautiful and had me fantasising about Heathcliff, and Preeti Singh who I adored enough to become Preeti Singh myself!
My principals - Waryam Singh at Mussoorie who introduced me to public speaking and taught me that I did not have to bang the lectern for effect, but the cadences in my voice would do my work for me. H S Singha in Delhi who appreciated my spunk and told me to never ever lose my courage or voice!
Mr Manchanda, who thought I was cut out for an MBA school but despaired at my Math skills and got me to tutor a sixth grader to get my fundas right!
Prof Govindrajan, who killed us by knowing our names and roll numbers on Day 1 of the MBA program. He was the closest we had to a good looking droolworthy dude and many chai evenings were peppered with gossip on him. Both the Damodarans, who were soft and suave, who I adored and whose subjects I understood nothing about!
And ofcourse, there were the other unmentionables - Mr Kakar who ruined Maths forever for me , Mr Ghuman who got whacked on his hands coz he dared to hold my collar to check the chain on my neck and the doddering Kamala Mathur who refused to change the exam schedule because my finance and HR papers were at the same time.
Happy Teacher’s Day
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