The recent death of a teacher inspired a torrent of tributes from her students across the world. She was an iconic figure in a prestigious public school in India where she taught for many years.
Reading some of the comments made me realise how many lives she had touched and the indelible impression she had left on their minds. What struck me in particular were the little incidents many quoted, childhood memories that are often hard to recall. But these ex-pupils — who are now in their 40s and 50s, some of whom have made their own mark in politics, business or academia — have not forgotten the immense contribution she made towards making them what they are today. However cliched it may sound, it is a truth to which they have testified.
As a rookie in the teaching field many years ago, I had the privilege of being taken under her wing. We struck an instant rapport and the fact that she was a few decades older and wiser, eased my initiation into the world of adolescent teenagers with raging hormones. I was honoured by her choosing me as a friend. Her formidable reputation had made her out to be a martinet who didn’t suffer fools gladly. But, as I got to know her, I realised that the exterior was but a shell and underneath lay the most endearing qualities of kindness and humility.
One of the tributes from an ex-student said that she had mastered the art of the perfect put-down and that he would always remember her for her sharp wit and no-nonsense approach. Almost all of them said she was the best teacher they had ever had and they would never forget the lessons she had taught them, both inside and out of the classroom.
Considered a great beauty in her youth, and despite age and asthma having taken their toll, one could still clearly see that she must have been a striking looking woman. Couple that with a fierce intelligence and you can guess how that formidable reputation originated. Somehow, the combination of beauty and brains can make others judge you too harshly. She was a Rhodes scholar and her knowledge was prodigious. She taught History and English and was able to make a connection between what was past and how it influenced the present.
I often thought to myself that she was meant for greater things. When I did mention this to her, her simple reply was, “But I love teaching”. There were so many avenues she could have explored, but this was her vocation.
As the years passed, I moved on while she retired from the profession. Each time I went home, I made it a point to visit her. With every visit, I noted with distress the visible physical deterioration. The last time I met her, she had had a fall and a black eye. Seeing her frail body moved me to tears. She could sense my pain and tried to ease my discomfort by saying she was absolutely fine and it was just a fall. She then changed the topic to the chocolates I had brought her and her eyes lit up with such pleasure as if I had handed her the crown jewels. It made me feel that I should have brought her some more, but she quickly told me that what I had brought would last her a long time.
I went away feeling extremely sad, not knowing then that that would be the last time I would see her.
In a way, I was also her student. She taught me valuable lessons and was the one who brought me gently down when I was being too fanciful.
Dear friend, I owe you a debt of gratitude for just being who you are. May you rest in infinite peace.
