In this article, I do not plan to write about what Teachers’
day is or its significance or anything about Dr. Radhakrishnan. Keeping aside those data and information, I
just thought to pen down my own feelings about my teachers and the days of my
student life.
Today I was at my daughter’s school to celebrate the
occasion with her and her friends. In
her not so long life of nine years, she has observed this day in the last few
years but this was the first time I happened to be with her.
While watching the cultural program arranged by the students
for their loving teachers I was unknowingly transported to my own childhood not
because of anything related to me but for my teachers. Along with the teachers,
came up the school in totality on the canvas.
I could very well see all my teachers vividly starting from my first
school days of Sarojvasini Sishu Bhavan to my secondary school, Ramakrishna
Mission Vidyapith Purulia.
While Sarojvasini Sishu Bhavan and Sunil sir, Acharya sir,
Jayanta sir, Head sir, Bardi mani and
gatekeeper Nepal da all helped me to sow the seeds of my life, Birbhum Zilla
school with Head sir, Sibnath Sir and others helped the sapling to grow. Ultimate
realization of student life however came only during my hostel life in
Ramakrishna Mission Vidyapith, Purulia, about which we all, the supposed “Vivek
Dynamites”, are proud of. (http://rkmvalumni.org/)
. I still see all of them moving around me as if the events happened just yesterday,
frame by frame, not having aged by the time and remaining as lively as
ever. The absolutely majestic buildings,
the vast stretches of playgrounds, the ever beautiful rose garden tended by
Kalidas da, and the cool shadows of mighty trees protecting us from the Sun,
they are part of my inner being, have been ingrained in the soul. Our school was blessed by the midas touch of
many scholars in the field of arts like Sunil Pal, Ramkinkar Baiz, and
Ramananda Bandyopadhyay, bearing testimony to the rich cultural and
architectural heritage of India. The feel of touch by the bricks of those
walls, the wet smell of soil of that land, the magnificence of the temple
building – all still flow through my blood whenever I think about my childhood
days. Being in a hostel and completely
cut-off from the din and bustle of a city did not make us feel, even for a
single moment, that we were being deprived of the pleasant things of life. We
used to enjoy them in our own ways, be it watching the same movie (1942) again
and again, the sports day celebrations in the company of P. K. Banerjee, or our
very own drama performance on the 15th of august or the Janmashtami
days.
Bengali lessons and stories from Phani da and Dilip da , Phonetics
practices from Sushil da, history lessons from Asit da and Chandi da, all were
top of the class by any standard. During story telling sessions, Phani da could
keep the whole class silent in a jaw dropping suspense. Lakshmi da and Rakho da
made Physics lessons as lucid as they could be whereas Bimal da, Ajay da, and
Pankaj da effortlessly made Life science almost a part of daily life. During
Panchanan da’s and Ashok da’s geography classes, we used to travel to many
countries of the world through the pages of the ATLAS. There were so many great
teachers in Mathematics, English, Physical Education, Work Education, Music, Drawing,
Gardening and others that I am bound to miss at least some of them.
While recollecting my childhood I will now allow myself to
look back my life as a student. After class VI, academically I came down a few
rungs below the top but my tenure in RKMV Purulia from class VI to class X is
the best part of my life. This is not because I enjoyed everything in the
school but because of the overall atmosphere that used to prevail out there. Though I was not the most popular jock in the
class, the gentle breeze along the campus, the fatherly affection oozing out of
the teaching and the non-teaching staff, and the overall guidance and care from
the Maharajas, brought a new lease of life in me since class VI. Class
politics, as they call it, was very much there in the school and I indeed was
at the receiving end a few times. As there are quite a few such unpleasant
memories, I won’t say that I was perfectly happy all the time, but I was
fortunate to acquire a place of my own in the class in many ways. The entire
experience gave me some very useful and robust perspectives of life, some of
which I still cherish even after so many days from student life.
Standing today, when I look back, I do feel that a few
things could have been done differently. But I am not ready to exchange
anything of that life with anything else either. I can go on writing about RKMV
for a few more pages but would like to
conclude now after a brief discussion of Swapan da. He was such a respected
teacher by one and all that each and every boarder used to think that probably
he was the best student of the class and got his maximum attention. Trying to
inculcate a strong character in everyone in the model of Vivekanada, Swapan da
gave all his life for Vidyapith and his students. His latest book, “Esocho
Jyotirmoy” was his pronam towards Swamiji on his 150th Birth
Anniversary. He has influenced and touched many a life in many ways and I
salute him for his rock solid support to all of us sacrificing everything in
his own life.
Long live Swapan da and all the other teachers who are still
around.
--Jayanta Tewari
--Jayanta Tewari
Your post expresses such great love and respect you have for your teachers and the strong impact they made on your life, your worldview and approach to living. What an educational experience this must have been for you! Enjoyed reading this nostalgic and loving tribute to your school and teachers.
ReplyDeleteDear Ma'm, yes, it was indeed the best part of my life. One has to visit the place to get soaked into what all I have mentioned. It is truly an out of the world experience. Thanks for your time to go through this post. Much appreciated.
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