5th September always had a special meaning for me at least in the academic calendar. Teacher’s day celebrations were always a think I looked forward to in my school. A special feature on that day was that for half a day the students would be taking up lectures in the classes. Typically students from the 9th or 10th std were picked up for this job. Sitting in my std 5th class and trying to concentrate on what the guy in front of me was telling me I was always in awe as to this guy must have done something really great to have replaced Shailendra sir to teach me Mathematics. After all in those days for me Mathematics started from Shailendra Sir and ended with him. He was my Aryabhatta, he was my Pythagoras. I always wanted to take up a class when I grew up on Teacher’s Day.
Teachers and the principal were closeted in the staff room where they would enjoy samosas, pakodas, tea and sweets too. I didn’t mind them eating that; after all my teachers deserved all this for there hard work. Also we had been given a cream-roll each!!!. What more can a 5th std student expect and to top it up even Shaila Tr (my science teacher) had gratefully accepted the dalia which I had got for here. She was another good teacher I had in my formative years. Even in std 5th she encouraged us to try to look beyond the textbooks. She was what led me to the school library where I opened my first ‘Tell me WHY?’ volume.
Of course there were some teachers we liked ;) Pardon me if you think I am going off track here but then it happens to every boy I guess around std 8th -9th (ahem, ahem) and considering that we were a all boys school (proud to hail from such a place !!!) we did like some of our teachers a bit more. It was a coincidence that most of these were from the computer department (and may be there I decided that my future lay with computers ;) , this is a filler please ignore) and a few were teaching in the primary sections. I didn’t understand why we used to like teachers who recently joined ;) Hehehe!! It was these teacher’s who got the maximum flowers on teacher’s day. I always connected this somehow to the rose days’ I latter witnessed during my graduation days ;) .We even caught a couple of parents (wanted to use the singular but that would have been out of place J) sneaking a flower or two to these likable teachers. That made for good lunch time discussions.
Finally on the 5th Sept in Std 9th I was picked up to take a class of geography in std 7. That was a challenge. Guys in Std 7 were good. I mean they were definitely better than the primary section guys in questioning. They were going to listen to me real hard and not gonna take any shit. I mean I had done that when I was in std 7th. “Full le liya yaar Advait tune usko”, was the compliment I had received then from my bench partner ;) Now I was at the other end.
Nothing spectacular happened that day. Meri kisine nahi phadi. After all there is only one Advait; I thought and smiled. I had prepared well for that half hour lecture. It was related to the grasslands; the Pampas, the Prairies and all. I had taken loads of extra information and the guys were hooked on. It was a delight to say the least.
This Teacher’s Day I woke up late. And only now I realized that it was Sept 5th. Now-a- days the dates don’t matter much, the days are important (especially the weekends). I miss my teachers. I still feel that jus one more lecture would do no harm. I want to go and sit on my bench back in school, want to solve those Pythagoras equations. I want to pin point the coal mines on the map of India. I want to solve integrals and derivatives at lightening speed and that too at 5:45am in the morning under the nose of Gadgil sir. I want to understand again how the DC motor works.
All I need is jus one more lecture.
I salute you my teachers. Naming you here in my blog is my way of saying THANK YOU for what you have done. HAPPY TEACHER’S DAY to you all
Fr Fuez
Fr Leo
Tr Shaila
Tr Kanta
Sir Shailendra
Sir Katale
Tr Vaibhava
Tr Marilyn D’souza
Tr. Sheela
Tr Shinde
Tr Lone
Gadgil Sir
Ugale Sir
Dhale Sir
Kurode Madam
Thursday, September 04, 2008
Wednesday, September 03, 2008
The TICKET
He held the reservation ticket in pride as if it was certificate of his merit. Well of course it is a certificate of my merit he thought. Didn’t it take merit in planning ones trip home before hand? Didn’t it take merit in planning to go to office late so that one could go to the ticket counter in time to get the reservation and that too a window seat. Not everybody could do it and precisely that was the reason he had got the ticket. He smiled at his own thoughts and waited for 2nd Sept -11:00pm. It was precisely a day and a few hours away.
On the 2nd Sept at 10:30pm he was standing near his house waiting to catch a rickshaw to take him to the bus stand. From the last 15mins he was standing there checking his watch a bit too frequently. Finally he caught sight of a rickshaw nearing him. He flagged it and it stopped. The Rs 120 which the rickshaw driver demanded was a bit too much but then he did not have time to get into a discussion about how the rickshaw-wallahs or for that matter everybody conspires to get more money out of a software professional.
At 10:56pm he was near the ticket counter where a day back he had got his reservation or as he thought of it his certificate of merit. But now he was in a hurry. He enquired about the bus and was told the bus had already left a minute back. He was confused; he had not planned for this. Well the logical thing to do was to ask about the next bus which left at 11:30pm. The man at the counter got the drift and promptly gave him the seat in the 11:30pm bus after making the requisite entries. He hadn’t hoped that this would be smooth but then he had done it. If the reservation was a certificate of merit this turn around was definitely the WINNER’S CUP!!!!
The bus started on time. He was a bit surprised about this. In the last 6 years of his travels from Pune to Nashik this was possibly the first time any asiad had ever left on time or before time. Things changing for the better he thought to himself and increased the volume of his ipod.
He did not like or despise the Pune Nashik journey but then he had done that journey maybe a thousand times before and would have to do it a thousand times in the future. He just prayed that sleep would come to him easily. He had a hectic day tomorrow starting with getting the Ganpati idol and all the decoration which goes into it. Sleep was what he needed the most. The time his eyes closed the bus had just started off from Nashik Phata. That was the last time he would sleep on the bus.
The hooting of horns, people talking and the lights in the bus broke his sleep. He opened his eyes and instinctively checked his watch. It was 2:30AM and Linkin Park was blasting his head off. He looked out but he could not make sense where the bus had reached. It must be near the Chandanapuri ghat, a traffic jam he thought that is so common in these rains and he prepared to close his eyes. There was some commotion going on near the driver’s cabin, he looked up and saw that some people were getting into his bus. That was not usual for sure. Wasn’t the bus kinda full? And from when did the asiad guys started taking people on board without a ticket? Anyways I have my seat he thought and threw a look of disdain at the people standing.
But then a sight caught his eye and he could not close his eyes the remaining journey. He say a man holding a handkerchief to his head. Blood was dripping from the handkerchief and the man was in great pain. He looked at others and there were people with cuts, bruises, swollen foreheads all looking disoriented. What had actually happened? He enquired about what had happened and he was told that the 11:00PM asiad had met with an accident and that the driver had died on the spot while many passengers were injured.
He could not believe his ears. He went numb for a few seconds. That was supposed to be his bus; he had blamed the rickshaw wallah when he came to know that he had missed the 11PM asaid at Shivajinagar. Now he did not know what to do.
He felt regret at the initial thoughts which had come to his mind when he saw these people boarding the bus. He quickly shifted a bit and offered a part of his seat to the person who was standing near him. The person standing near accepted it gratefully. His seat was no longer cherished, if luck or whatever they say wouldn’t have been on his side he would well have been on the other side.
The person to whom he offered was saying something he thought, but it was not audible and he was not in a position to listen to anything. He was just staring out of the window into nothingness.
Images of the ticket counter when he got the reservation done, the rickshaw ride which made him miss the 11PM bus, the delight on getting the seat in the 11:30PM bus on the earlier reservation without having to haggle for it and finally regret on seeing the condition of his co-passengers started flickering in front of his eyes. They just came by randomly, no connection nothing.
He did not understand how much time passed but on seeing the Nashik Road flyover approaching he got up from his seat fumbled a feeble TAKE CARE to the person next to him and got out of the bus.
He put his hand in his shirt pocket took out the EPITOME of PLANNING (the reservation ticket of the 11:00PM bus) and tore it into countless pieces. He flung the pieces overhead.
All this was never planned was the only thought which came to his mind.
On the 2nd Sept at 10:30pm he was standing near his house waiting to catch a rickshaw to take him to the bus stand. From the last 15mins he was standing there checking his watch a bit too frequently. Finally he caught sight of a rickshaw nearing him. He flagged it and it stopped. The Rs 120 which the rickshaw driver demanded was a bit too much but then he did not have time to get into a discussion about how the rickshaw-wallahs or for that matter everybody conspires to get more money out of a software professional.
At 10:56pm he was near the ticket counter where a day back he had got his reservation or as he thought of it his certificate of merit. But now he was in a hurry. He enquired about the bus and was told the bus had already left a minute back. He was confused; he had not planned for this. Well the logical thing to do was to ask about the next bus which left at 11:30pm. The man at the counter got the drift and promptly gave him the seat in the 11:30pm bus after making the requisite entries. He hadn’t hoped that this would be smooth but then he had done it. If the reservation was a certificate of merit this turn around was definitely the WINNER’S CUP!!!!
The bus started on time. He was a bit surprised about this. In the last 6 years of his travels from Pune to Nashik this was possibly the first time any asiad had ever left on time or before time. Things changing for the better he thought to himself and increased the volume of his ipod.
He did not like or despise the Pune Nashik journey but then he had done that journey maybe a thousand times before and would have to do it a thousand times in the future. He just prayed that sleep would come to him easily. He had a hectic day tomorrow starting with getting the Ganpati idol and all the decoration which goes into it. Sleep was what he needed the most. The time his eyes closed the bus had just started off from Nashik Phata. That was the last time he would sleep on the bus.
The hooting of horns, people talking and the lights in the bus broke his sleep. He opened his eyes and instinctively checked his watch. It was 2:30AM and Linkin Park was blasting his head off. He looked out but he could not make sense where the bus had reached. It must be near the Chandanapuri ghat, a traffic jam he thought that is so common in these rains and he prepared to close his eyes. There was some commotion going on near the driver’s cabin, he looked up and saw that some people were getting into his bus. That was not usual for sure. Wasn’t the bus kinda full? And from when did the asiad guys started taking people on board without a ticket? Anyways I have my seat he thought and threw a look of disdain at the people standing.
But then a sight caught his eye and he could not close his eyes the remaining journey. He say a man holding a handkerchief to his head. Blood was dripping from the handkerchief and the man was in great pain. He looked at others and there were people with cuts, bruises, swollen foreheads all looking disoriented. What had actually happened? He enquired about what had happened and he was told that the 11:00PM asiad had met with an accident and that the driver had died on the spot while many passengers were injured.
He could not believe his ears. He went numb for a few seconds. That was supposed to be his bus; he had blamed the rickshaw wallah when he came to know that he had missed the 11PM asaid at Shivajinagar. Now he did not know what to do.
He felt regret at the initial thoughts which had come to his mind when he saw these people boarding the bus. He quickly shifted a bit and offered a part of his seat to the person who was standing near him. The person standing near accepted it gratefully. His seat was no longer cherished, if luck or whatever they say wouldn’t have been on his side he would well have been on the other side.
The person to whom he offered was saying something he thought, but it was not audible and he was not in a position to listen to anything. He was just staring out of the window into nothingness.
Images of the ticket counter when he got the reservation done, the rickshaw ride which made him miss the 11PM bus, the delight on getting the seat in the 11:30PM bus on the earlier reservation without having to haggle for it and finally regret on seeing the condition of his co-passengers started flickering in front of his eyes. They just came by randomly, no connection nothing.
He did not understand how much time passed but on seeing the Nashik Road flyover approaching he got up from his seat fumbled a feeble TAKE CARE to the person next to him and got out of the bus.
He put his hand in his shirt pocket took out the EPITOME of PLANNING (the reservation ticket of the 11:00PM bus) and tore it into countless pieces. He flung the pieces overhead.
All this was never planned was the only thought which came to his mind.
(This write up is inspired from a true story which happened with me on the night of 2nd September 2008. Some facts have been distorted for the sake of story telling.)
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