From a teacher's diary

From a teacher’s diary

It was the D- day for our class. I was the class teacher of  9A; a class of 41. If one word

could bring out the characteristics of the whole class it would be ‘brilliant’. Not that every child performed exceedingly well in academics, but still they were brilliant. Anyway that was my impression about that class. For me it was a treat to be with them. It may not be very civil to say this, but some classes were just punishments for the teachers, including me. It is a mystery how each class acquires its own characteristics. It could be that there are a few in every class who could influence the whole, either positively or negatively; that is my finding. Influence of the teacher cannot be neglected but among the teen agers, peer group comes first and then only the teachers, in the normal case.

Coming back to the D- day: our class was going to perform a skit on the stage in the morning assembly. Other than the usual proceedings like prayer, pledge and thought for the week, we sometimes have a guest’s speech, but this kind of a performance by a whole class was not usual in the assembly . I had to argue my case and get special permission from the principal to have the show of my class. Our timing was right, in the sense,after one week we were going to have guest students from the UK as a part of the student exchange program. The whole school was in a cleaning spree. Our skit was based on cleanliness in the school environment.

All the children in the class came a few minutes earlier than usual, had a quick last minute rehearsal and we were ready. The class was divided into two groups of 20 each and they would stand on either sides in a row while one leader Shankar, would stand in the middle near the central microphone and. He would say the opening lines and would lead the chorus through out the skit. That was how it was planned.

When the time came, I went down from back of the stage to be with the rest of the school. I was confident that the students would perform with utmost precision and agility.. They were thorough, we had practiced so well. Everyone took their positions with Shankar in the middle. School captain announced the show and requested the primary children to go to the shades so as to make them more comfortable. Then he gave the microphone to Shankar. He held it in his right hand, viewed the whole school assembled in front of him, 1000 and more students and 150 and more teachers. Seconds ticked off. He stood there, dazed, staring blank, not making a sound. Whole campus was silent, waiting. Seconds grew into minutes – 2,3,4. Nothing happened! Not a word from Shankar! I don't know when I started sweating, but by the end of those 4 minutes, I was drenched. I could see his hand that held the microphone shivering. He was looking pathetically at me, at the gathering, at the teachers…., he was under a panic attack of stage fear. Then, in a decisive moment, he inserted the mike in its stand, turned back and walked out of the stage! After a moment of hesitation, the rest 40 also turned back and followed Shankar! I looked at the principal, our eyes met and I got burn blisters all over me. School captain gave the order for dispersal of the assembly. No explanation or excuses were given. There was nothing to give. I could hear laughter from different sources, collective and individual. I could see jeering faces.

I went straight to the principal’s room, apologised profusely and requested to give a second chance. With a lot of hesitation and ‘ are you sure’ questions, she agreed.

I reached the class with the attendance register to take the morning attendance. Not one head was lifted, not even the usual sing-song ‘good morning’, some didn't even stand up. Some girls had wet red eyes. I didn't have to take attendance since I already knew that all were present. Without the slightest hint of accusation, I said, “ So, children, at noon all of
you finish your lunch fast and come to the auditorium. We have practice from 12.45 for 15 minutes. We are going to the stage day after tomorrow.” Suddenly there were screams of ‘No’, and ‘Not Again’….. I waited patiently for the commotion to subside and then as if nothing had happened, looked at Shankar and said “ you are going to be the lead and there won't be any change in it”. He got up from his seat, came near the teacher’s table and said, “Mam,…. I can't do it. I …I let down the whole class, I may do it again, no, I am sure I will do it again…. I am… nervous…

“Shankar, if you give up now, you won't be able to look at yourself for a longer time than what you think. You will pass out of this school with a lingering sense of failure deep in your heart which may not be explicit to everyone. So there is no choice for you. You are going to do it. My confidence in you has not the least changed. Give all your burden to me, go with a light heart, if you fail , I am responsible, fully…. I am saying this because I am so sure you will not fail. He lifted his head , looked into my eyes and I saw it there – a sudden resolution. That was enough. I patted his back without another word and left the class.

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After 15 years I met Shankar at TDM Hall. We had gone there for a wedding; I for my ex-student’s and he for his ex- classmate’s. The whole ‘9A’ gang was there. We spoke like in olden times. All of them were well placed. Some were married, some were engaged,, we playfully teased each other reminding them of their old mannerisms and spoonerisms.

When Shankar said he was a probationary officer with SBI, I asked how was the interview, hinting his old time nervousness. Everybody laughed. He said he topped for interview. I wanted to hug him but didn't. After a few minutes I said good bye and walked to the car park. Shankar came along, leaving others there. He said he wanted to tell me something for a long time but didn't know how to contact me etc. He asked, “Mam, do u remember an incident that took place in our class while we were in 9 th std?” Of course I knew what he meant. He said, “ That was a turning point in my life. Ever after that incident I have never felt nervous to face any situation so far. You asked me about SBI interview. I did very well and I think I owe it to the way you handled me when I faltered miserably on that day.” Once more I wanted to hug him but didn't. I simply said, “ Oh , Shankar , you made my day!” What I wanted to say was you made my teaching career meaningful, but I didn't.

An age of substance

                                                        An Age Of Substance 

 Creaking sound of iron rubbing on iron as the swing goes back and forth......, a  field of white gypsum hillocks......,shuttle cock flying in the air after every swish sound of cock hitting the gut.... film songs in full blast from the theatre,sharp at 5.45 PM - Shakunthaley... Shakunthaleeeey...... theseare the predominant memories of my childhood, my FACT Township life. I lived there till I was 15. And then, after a short break of about 5 years, again for some more years, but in a different role.

                          Before I started my schooling, that is before 1960 there was a row of A-type quarters near the present market. I was staying in one of those houses. View of a vast stretch of paddy field from the front veranda... My FACT memories start from there. There was no market at that time. The paddy field would flood during rainy season. Wow! What a sight! What a thrill and excitement! Wading in knee deep water...catching fish with bath towel...All that was over when the fields were filled up and much later, a market was set up on one side with a bus stop in front of it. Though the scenic beauty was taken away, I have to admit that the market was indeed a blessing for all the people in the quarters. Shops were not many near that area. Looking back, I think that market didn’t get the national award for cleanliness only because there was no such award. It would have met international standards for cleanliness with no flies or heaps of waste or even a bad smell. How could they manage it?

                            I studied in the FACT LP School, just about 10 meters away from my house which was adjacent to the Udyogamandal Club. (We had shifted by then.) The schoolwas later demolished to build quarters. I am talking about the early 60s. It was during that period that English was made the medium of instruction in one division of each class. The other divisions continued with Malayalam medium. Some parents used to give special tuition for English to their wards, lest they fall back in their performance because learning all subjects in English was completely new to many. Generally, parents were well aware and ambitious about their children. I remember the long front veranda, a large (so it seemed for a 3ft child) playground at the back with a sweet tamarind tree at the boundary. Teachers.....? I remember Mrs Noel.  She taught all subjects up to class 4. Elegant and lady-like, she used toencourage and appreciate her students with out reservations, which was not very common in those days. Teachers and parents were mostly critical and did not show off mercy or compassion since they believed in ‘spare the rod and spoil the child’ ism. Mrs Noel dared to spare the rod. The authority of elders was unquestionable in those days. I remember that we friends didn’t criticise them even in our very private conversations. Here, let me place a wreath in memory of those days.

                                  After class 4 we had to go to another school opposite to FACT Training School which was a bit far from my house. Though during that time it held classes from 5 to 10, soon after I reached there, the classes from 8 to 10 were shifted to a new place near FACT House. So, I moved fromLP School to a world beyond the gypsum hillocks near the factory gate. It was called ‘convent school’, though there was nothing conventish about it except that it was an old convent building which was taken over by FACT. When I think of that school, all that I could remember is that it looked rather like an 18th century building, but well preserved. There were plenty of fruit trees, especially sappottas (chikku) and mangoes. But I don’t remember plucking or eating any. We believed plucking or eating those fruits which did not belong to us was a serious offence. While I write this, I myself wonder if we were really half wits. So if any reader thinks so, he is excused. But I wish....if only I had one more chance! The long walk from home to school was not long for me in those days. (Sorry if this sounds like a cliché). Or was it really not that long; I am not sure now .The gypsum field was in the last lap of the route. A large area covered with heaps of soft white material with streaks of yellow here and there! And you walk over it! It was fun, indeed. It was not a level ground;there were steep ups and downs. We happily treaded over it and never gave a second thought to environmental pollution or health hazards. During rainy seasons one had to place each step very cautiously or that slimy thing would surely let youdown! But that didn’t deter us from taking the same route, we never thought of going through any other way. Later, I happened to know that gypsum was an industrial waste and the company was finding it difficult to dispose it of. In small quantities it was sold but there was much more than the demand. 

                After 3 years of gypsum walk, for classes 8, 9 and 10 we were to go to a more sophisticated place called FACT High School near the FACT House. Sree Keshava Pillai was the Head Master. It was an impressive new building with speakers in each class room which was a novelty for the students as well as the teachers. Morning assembly proceedings were through the microphone fitted in each classroom and so we didn’t really assemble for the assembly. As for the school playground it was large enough to host All Kerala Athletic meets. Though never an athlete, and have not run even a 50 meter race in my life time, I too was in the fieldin the capacity of a girl guide, doing some errands like fetching water to some one etc. Anyway, my most cherished memories of the high school are all associated with those athletic meets. School annual days were rather serious affairs. Prize distribution to the winners for all the events of that whole academic year was the highlight for me. C.A. Shivaram, an extraordinarily brilliant student, used to come with a gunny bag (literally) to carry 15 to 20 prizes that he would get! Now he is a doctor somewhere in the US (brain drain).

              We had well equipped labs and devoted teachers to handle all the subjects. Vidyasagar for Maths, Aacharya and Unni Menon for Malayalam, Saradamma for English and Social Studies, Sundaram Pillai for science, Sreevasthava for Hindi.....Oh! Sreevasthava. He was simply sincerity incarnated. He was believed to be hand picked by Sri M. K. K. Nayar from UP to teach chaste Hindi to the students of FACT school. He surely did rise up to the expectations of the MD. He and his family were living in a house near FACTHouse and daily he walked to the market at a specific time in the evening between 6 and 6.30. To impress him, we made it a point to read our Hindi lessons loudly as and when he approached our street. The next day when he comes to the class he would correct the mistakes, especially pronunciation, that each one had made the previous day! Those were the times..!

                      One of the happiest days of our childhood was the day our exams were over and the school closed for the holidays. We spent longer hours in the ladies’ club children’s park area. On the swing.... on the slide.... or on the concrete bench, just chatting with friends. The sound of the swing would ring through the evening air which was mostly quiet and peaceful. Sometimes we would go for walks through the streets in the quarters - the streets that even the youngest of us could manoeuvre blindfolded. We would visit our friends’houses if they had not turned up in the club that day, to make sure everything was all right or on the way steal a glance of the beautiful new brides like Mrs. Venuprasad, who had recently moved in to the quarters.

                             

                        We children had only two seasons in a year – the Seshasayee Tournament season and the Non- SeshasayeeTournament season. During the Seshasayee season the otherwise quiet and tranquil colony will be elevated to a buzzing gala festive arena. Shuttle badminton players would arrive from different parts of India: Prakash Padukone, Suresh Goyal, Satheesh Bhatiya, Ghosh brothers, etc. I don’t remember who won the championship every year but I do remember their style of taking a shot and also how handsome they were! And I have clear recollection of us girls sitting in the gallery of Udyogamandal Club, mesmerised by the sheer charm and elegance of these players. They would transform the courts, where we the FACT kids learned to take our first steps, to a magic land. They opened to us windows to a world of which we knew very little. These tournaments must have been an impetus for the aspiring players among us. The shuttle coach Balagopal who was appointed by FACT was another reason for changing the life of quite a few. JessyPhilip, Anto David, Norien Padua and her brothers,Susi.V.John are just a few. Thanks to the sports quota and also their hard work and persistence, they reached places.

                 After the tournament, when the players had all left, we would resume our routine of going to the club with our racket as soon as we come back from the school. We would be in good form with newly found vigour and enthusiasm. Each one would try to imitate her favourite player and surprisingly, we used to play better for a few days. Even one of the lousiest players like me was not an exception. But I think there were many others who were able to keep up the spirit much longer.

                    The All India Writers Conference of 1965 is another event that still lingers in my mind. From all over India the most eminent writers of that period came to Udyogamandal Club. In spite of the workers union putting up a protest demonstration against such ostentatious festivals, the conference was held for days with great pomp and show. At that young age we gained a glimpse of the elite literary personalities of the nation, we listened to their speeches; we took part in their welcome ceremonies. 

                    The Club swimming pool, though not a big onewas unique in the sense, swimming pools were extremely rare in Ernakulam district. It could even be the only one in the whole of the district during that time. The National champion, Keshavan Nair was promptly employed by FACT and he was the swimming coach of the club. But somehow, swimming did not electrify the colony as shuttle tournaments did. Though it might sound silly, I feel that for a rather conservative society, even partly baring the body was not very appealing and that was one reason there were no swimming champions from the township at that time!

                          FACT theatre was also something unique. No other company in the vicinity, like, TCC, IRE, Glass Factory etc, had a theatre in its colony. One had to go to Ernakulam or Alwaye to see a movie. All the films which came to Ernakulam theatres were brought to us within a gap of two or three months. The theatre was a blessing in many ways. Even though there was rationing enforced by parents – one film per month - we gained general awareness about films and actors and film songs. Daily, before the show started, they playedfilm songs through loudspeaker. The music instantly would lift up the spirit of the Township children, may be elders also,and no body ever complained about sound pollution or such things. The same theatre was the venue for dramas, dances and music events. K.J. Yesudas and Chitra have performedthere. We have witnessed magic shows by Sri Bhagyanath, drama by KPAC, mimicry show by Jayaram (actor) and partyand many more in that humble asbestos building.

                             FACT Township had its own characteristics. The most outstanding one was its socialism. There were abundant opportunities for every child irrespective of his father’s status in the company. No body was looked up or looked down by virtue of his father’s position. The colony was more like a large joint family for us, the children. If by any chance our parents couldn’t attend to any of our needs, always some maamy (that is what we called other kids’ mothers) will be there for us. People regularly visited each other, they were concerned. Recently I happened to read an excellent book written by Veena Venugopal, a FACT product of the younger generation. She is of my son’s age group. She seemed to echo some of the thoughts and feelings I have expressed here about the Township. (I mean, vice verse). So in a strange way, time has stood still for two generations, for the betterment of the inhabitants of a ‘lonely planet’ called FACT Township. Though the present condition of the same place brings tears of sorrow, I am aware of how privileged I was at some point of time to be an inhabitant of a veryprogressive Township with loving inmates. And how I wish the one man behind all these, Sri M.K.K Nayar could have a resurrection, at least to see that his dreams were not all futileand that many of his people have reached shores before it was too late.