Wednesday, 30 December 2015

You were always there…

Kids are rolling in line, and you are stationed still-still like an old lamp post.  Your stern eyes are glued at them; You began to scan them as they passes by, checking their nails, hands, hair and dress.
If offender is primary kid, you stage a stunt-depending upon the frequency of the offences particularly committed to this parameter.  You are soft but have to do something about it-it’s for him/her that you are doing it-so for the this kids you grunt pretentiously and remind them to fix it informing that tomorrow you will meet him/her at same time-same place. And if it’s a young teen, you oil it at times and say it respecting his/her self esteem but with meaning assurance that he/she would never do it again. 

Yes buddy, you are a class teacher-you are a master tactician-as good as some of the top class football managers of EPL.

 Checking the class attendees, maintaining a class profile, sticking a red inked flashy class room rules on your newly painted wall  and diligently handing a progress report at the end doesn’t really limit you there as a class teacher-you know it’s beyond…  

Rules are intact-well oriented and the setting gets A plus. There is corner for each student to imprint their dreams and aspirations. With an overwhelming physical ambiance-there is already a mood.  Then, standing tall, you shout out loud and clear, “it’s time-lets show the world what we are!”

As a class teacher you know you are the first person to whom the students look up to. You are their superhero-a friend to whom they share their immediate problems-you are the guardian away from their parents-you are everything my friend-everything! You fight for them, you protect them-and you often yell into their head, “No matter how many times life makes us to fall-we have a bad habit of getting get up! We try, we try, we try until we die!”

Your classroom becomes a safe haven, and within this four walls you celebrate perseverance, passion, endurance, beliefs, hope and glory with your kids.  Along the journey you also get an opportunity to deepen your understanding of their concern, frustration, weaknesses and their personality as a whole. The insights you get through them is too overwhelming…

 You know, you are the stage provider, you create a cool podium and behind the curtain you savour your kids' magic and wonders. It is never you-it is always them that is what you keep telling to yourself but there were some itching moments where you too took the centre stage because your kids love you having fun time with them in the middle…

Just Like a soccer referee, you are there but it’s all about Messi and Ronaldo.  It’s there show and all you did was you sail them through the match smoothly till the final whistle. During the game, spot light is onto them-and you-you are happy to hop around and quietly you fade away allowing the players to express their talents and skills.  When things go little muddy, you jostle around with your signature smile and you talk, “Let play good-that’s how it should be-just stick to the rules!”  

As class teacher, you are indeed a top class manger in your own right-a dynamic leader up front who inspires and give them the courage to dream big. You have messy kitchen at home to be put in order, a sick and feeble mother to look after, a staggering debts to fill and above all a pestering hemorrhoids, yet you know you got to have your signature smile. 

Dude! At all cost-you are a hero to make more heroes because you truly stand by what John Wooden had said: Young people need models, not critics…


Tuesday, 1 December 2015

Teacher telling a story…

It was never a design-never calculated!  I had to do it; kids were on their knees-their hands clasped and they went on pleading.

“Please Sir!  Story! Story-” 

Class one kids-you just can’t do away with them.  Once they stick to their plan, they have to pull it out-you will hear desperation in their voice, their body language goes frantic and their eyes-it was all anxious.  It’s really funny to see those small kids feeling extremely distress at my call, “Nope! No more story-it’s a maths class!”  

Whining like those lost puppies, it was all mayhem. 

Sometimes- it is nice to see kids so resilient and so focused in their operation irrespective of the subject matter.  It is indeed a moment where you get to see their unity and their swift collaboration and ability to read the situation just to fit in for their yearning.

It’s was a late gloomy afternoon.  I zoomed in for our maths class.  Those dirt soiled boarder kids were buzzing and when I saw their eyes it was lighten and they were chuckling.  Instantaneously I read their minds-these kids want me to tell a story again!

I had an issue then but I couldn’t take this issue forward to them-they were little brats and of course I didn’t want that afternoon to turn into one big mighty mess.

I would hum and haw for some time knowingly that I have to give in just like I did last week.
I know that telling a story is no big deal but for this class one- narrating a story is like standing on the edge of the abyss; you can’t narrate the story that you know-no matter how interesting it might be.  In fact they will give some characters and you have to tell the story according to their instruction.

“Sir, tell us a ghost story and the ghost should have three eyes and the hero should be a little boy. No sir, tell us story of tiger called Panday –no Sir, about dragon-about handsome prince-about beautiful princess-about…..”    

 It’s all mayhem again and after some more arguments, we resolved the differences by voting.  However the general consensus is that the story should include all the masalas-bit of romance, bit of comedy, bit of horror and mind blowing thrilling experiences. And moreover,  you got to believe it-I have to include a song in the story.

 It has to be damn dramatic and you are one hell of standup comedian type!  I can’t simply sit and deliver-for them it’s too old fashion for them. They want spicy-action packed sort of stuff.

With a long deep sigh, I yell, “Okay then, here I start-"

I started the story like some back packer travelling and travelling –unsure of the destiny…

Amid my narration, I started to fumble…the conflict of story should be very direct with few incidents in the story.  Besides, I was wondering when to inject the song and I had no idea about the lyrics and the tune. I felt very sweaty-I had the pressure to maintain the flow…

Suddenly Beowulf struck me and I took few shots from there and incorporated in my story.
Piercing through the eyes of monster with steel sword, I yelled, “Ugyennnnnnnnnnnnnn!”

Kids were glued and I saw the time…I got roughly a minute to wrap up. I had stretch quite a long and now I was scrambling to assemble all the incidents back.

Finally I had to kill the monster because I saw Lopen Sonam walking for his class; it seems we all were so lost in our world of imagination that we hardly came by the school bell.

 I collected all my stuffs and I pompously I asked, “Hey! Liked it?”

“Nice Sir-But you forgot the song!” 

I looked at them teasingly and said, “Yea, I know, but the boy called Ugyen in the story doesn’t like singing.” the whole class burst out laughing.

 It was five years then-now- they must in class six-and today I wonder whether those smelly kids still have that kind of wild craving for the stories...