We bring you readers' stories about their favourite, most inspirational teachers.
We invited you to share special experiences about your best-loved teachers with us to celebrate Teacher's Day on September 5. Here we present some more responses we received.
First up is Rhyncus, who shares this inspirational story of his teacher:
Ja Go Behere. That was how he used to sign his name, in Devanagari. JG Behere. That was how it appeared on his nameplate, in English. Jagannath Gopal Behere was his full name. He taught us Algebra in 7th and Physics in 8th, I think.
He was not very tall, even to us kids; he might have been 5' 6", probably. He had no hair on roughly 76 per cent of his head, the remaining 24 per cent was cloaked with a sparse spread, that he got trimmed every two months or so. This trimming was the source of much hilarity among us kids (bald man goes for a haircut ).
He wore thick 'soda bottle glasses' (I remember he mentioned once, the power was -9 in one eye and -10 in the other), a low potbelly clothed mostly in white cotton shirts, baggy brown pants, a slight stoop caused probably by the forward drag of the potbelly and a sleepy, inquisitive expression. His gestures were vastly imitated during our free time and his slow, rounded speech even more so (he pronounced the number 11 as 'elven'. Tolkein would have been proud). As a teacher of Algebra and Physics he was adequate.
The first inkling I got about how different this man was when, during a serious class, he spread the word that all those who were interested in a birdwatching trip could join him at 5 am, Saturday morning. Needless to say, I missed the deadline by about 30 minutes, having never been a morning person. Finally I did make it to quite a few early-morning field trips, binoculars (he had four pairs) and all, early in the morning, spotting magpies and red-chested coppersmiths and golden orioles, traipsing across empty mango groves, watching the sun rise from across the railway tracks, tired young legs following his, wondering what wonder lay across the next hedge.
In the late 80s, he showed me Haley's Comet. Twice. Once when it was just a hazy smudge in some distant constellation. Next when it was much closer and had taken the classic comet shape (core, tail, broomstick shape and all). Knowledge that allowed me to guide the less powerful field glasses of my neighbours towards the celestial being. Mr Joseph hurrahed, finally! 'We have seen it, atleast once in our lifetime, who knows if we'll be alive for the next sighting.' I silently thanked Behere Sir.
He also had star-watching sessions, where we were invited to meteorite showers and basic stargazing lessons. Seven Sisters of Pleiades, Square of Pegasus, Orion's Belt. Terms I would never have known if it were not for nights spent (after dinner, mom decreed), lying flat on his terrace, pillows under heads, watching through focussed binoculars and open mouths. Today when I sometimes gaze up on clear, smogless skies, the first thing I look out for is Orion. Followed by the Seven Sisters.
He was a voracious reader. He had more than 300 books in a stupendously arranged collection, sitting in a large rack of shelves in the sitting room, by far the most important piece of furniture in his house. They ranged from fiction to non-fiction, war to conservation, people to animals. Even in those comparatively illiterate days, I could spend hours gazing at the magical titles. By his own conservative estimate he had read about 80 per cent of the books he owned. And yet, every week he would go and get 7-10 more books from the British Council, USIS and a few other libraries that he was member of (I can read these books anytime, he would point carelessly at the shelves).
If I know him I don't think he ever got to reading all the books he owned. Some of the books he deigned to loan us did more to define our imagination than all those years of schooling. And you cannot imagine what an honour it was if he ever loaned us a borrowed book.
Then there were the home sessions. These were essentially lectures that covered everything and anything in the world. Mostly focussed on nature and wildlife, these basically entailed him talking and a few of us taking notes. WWF, SITES, sustainable development (this was when the Narmada dam was becoming an issue), etc, events and issues we knew nothing about, yet which we faithfully took down. What motivated him to talk about these to a group of teenagers growing up in semi-urban boondocks?
Once he planned a series of lectures on the evolution of humans. Mostly Darwinian in origin, it touched upon the properties that we shared with other primates, the discovery of different fossils (Ramapithecus, Australopithecus, etc) and the conclusions that could be drawn thereof. I was one of the speakers and I talked to a large group of fellow students about how chimps and humans had similar numbers of chromosomes. He said I spoke like a true professor. I understood not more than half of what I spoke. My friends in the audience probably understood half of what I did. Why did he do it?
Over time I realised that belonging to his core group did not come easy. One had to demonstrate many qualities. Most important of which was interest and passion, continuous. In the beginning academic brilliance could garner you an invite to one of his expeditions, be it on stars or birds. But if you didn't demonstrate the passion, the thirst to learn, you were soon disregarded for further invites.
Being one of Behere Sir's team was being different, and you had to continuously qualify, inspite of the snide, envious remarks of lesser classmates. His was a house that was always open to us. We sometimes pitied his family, his children who grew up without a TV in their house. During those days, this was inconceivable. Sitting today surfing through the mindless channels, I think they probably had it better (we had only Doordarshan then).
After passing out of school, I often saw his tripping gait as he came or went from the school. The times I passed him on the road, I wished him a good afternoon or whatever. At others, I watched him and wondered about him. He studied in some obscure school in interior Maharashtra, in Marathi and yet gained enough proficiency in a foreign language (English, for those of you who wonder), to be able to devour a thousand pages every week and lecture young minds about them.
He was passionate enough about his hobbies (Dr Salim Ali was more a hero to us then than Mohammed Ali. BNHS -- Bombay Natural History Society -- was a very natural acronym for us. Would these have meant anything to us but for him?) to infect successive groups of young children with them. At a time when teachers would stick to the syllabi, he dared to go beyond them, dared us to go beyond them.
In a very traditional, middle class, cosmopolitan township in the 1980s, JG Behere decided to inspire hundreds of kids to wake up early in the morning to go look at wondrous birds through his binoculars. He lived a life on his own, took a few thousand young minds with him and broadened their horizons beyond prescription. Isn't that what a teacher's all about?
With Teacher's Day coming up on September 5, we want you to share a story about your favourite teacher with us. It can be amusing, interesting or sentimental -- but it has to be about that special someone who made the biggest impression upon you in the course of your academic career.
Simply write in to us at getahead@rediff.co.in (subject line: 'To Teacher, with love') with your experience and, if possible, a photograph of your teacher and you. We'll be publishing the best entries right here on rediff.com!
'There was never an idle moment in her class'
Here Gagan Nayak shares his memories of his schoolteacher:
What I am today is all because of my school and my school teachers. They gave their heart to create a studious atmosphere in a remote village of Orissa. However my mathematics/science teacher in High School is exceptional and stands out from all others -- Bhagaban Sir (Bhagaban Behera).
There would be pin-drop silence not only in the classroom but even when he passed by. His actions reflected on us and we learned from them. He was never late to class, which had inspired us to be punctual. He would be dressed in white dhoti and kurta, without a visible crease, to make us aware of cleanliness.
He was always well prepared and any question to him would be answered in no time at all. But most of all, the methodology of his teaching was very inspiring, to make you concentrate and enjoy the class. His methodology for guiding us about unsolved problems would start with the checking of our notebooks where we tried to solve the problem, to ensure that the root cause of the mistake is eliminated.
He didn't conduct tuition classes, but was always available to help you in the classroom. He would complete the course and revise it well before the exam. He was a perfectionalist in his profession. He always had a plan to execute and executed the plan with perfection.
Next Ahalya Kovillamma shares the story of the teacher who inspired her to take up teaching herself:
It took this one teacher to make me ward off my inhibitions and love the profession of being a teacher...
Having chosen a career in basic sciences, physics specifically, I journeyed through a bachelor's and master's degree in physics. My father is well-established in the teaching profession and wanted me to do the same. But I had a distaste for it as I wanted to be a researcher. Teaching the same thing year after year, I felt was the most monotonous and dry job one could do. Though my teachers repeatedly appreciated my teaching skills and coaxed me to take it up as my career, I felt there would be a drought of self growth if I did. I knew I would never be one.
In the course of my master's, we had a paper on digital signal processing and graphics, that was so dull a topic that all the students would struggle with drooping eyelids. The lecturer who taught us, Abraham Sir, had a casual attitude. He was good at teaching but his mannerisms never made us have a teacherly liking towards him. I felt he could never have a personal teacher-student bonding which was a skill some gifted teachers had.
One day in an after-session relaxed talk somebody asked him to share his experiences with us. Sir told us that one dynamic student in the graduate course, bold, active and smart, always had an eye for all the extracurricular activities. He was talented but disregarded his attendance in classes and studies. Despite Sir's repeated reminders he remained careless. At the end of the year Sir shockingly found him lacking attendance that would bar him from writing the university exams and thus he would lose a year. Sir took the tough decision of barring him from exams though he could have saved him with proxy attendance reports.
The matter reached the department head and principal eventually. They all tried talking to and convincing Sir to save the boy's academic year as the decision rested on his report as class teacher. Sir thought over it a whole night and gave his final word to the institution head. He wouldn't do it. The principal and HoD didn't want a dynamic, appreciated student to lose a year, and overrode his decision and authority, granting him permission to sit for the exams.
Sir told us with a distant, hoarse voice. "I was called rude and arrogant and an uncaring teacher for my decision. My colleagues blamed me for being insensitive toward a good student's academic year. It's true that he was a gifted student and I liked him a lot. It was a difficult decision for me to take. But I know wherever he is he will love me as his teacher. Because I taught him a lesson for a lifetime. I taught him he couldn't deter from his duties and achieve heights. In that way, I have really been a successful teacher. Whatever others might interpret, both of us know that what I did was correct. He will always love me as his teacher."
Our whole class was shocked to see, this very remote, casual, uncaring, unfeeling teacher of the whole semester step out of the last class with a choked voice, a twinkle of tears in his eyes and a lot of love for his student.
On that day I realised what a gift it was to be a teacher and to touch the lives of countless students. Until then I only respected the profession of teaching.
I have had the good luck for being inspired, guided and taught by loving teachers like my dearest Philomina Ma'am, Lakshmi Ma'am, Dr Lakshmi Ma'am, Padmaja Ma'am and Madhusoodanan Sir. I dedicate this to them. And of course, to dear Abraham Sir, who taught me to love the profession of being a teacher.
Now I am successfully juggling being a researcher and teacher!
Richa Baweja Ghune reminisces about her maths teacher:
I was not a very bright student but fairly good in my studies. Mathematics had always been a problem for me and I was actually very poor in applying logic and alpha, beta and gamma always went above my head. I could never understand why mathematics was so complicated. But our mathematics teacher Mrs Meena Rastogi made it a very interesting subject.
Her techniques of making us understand the concepts were new every time. Mrs Rastogi has always been a renowned teacher at Blue Bells Senior Secondary School, Gurgaon and I have always admired her intrinsic ability to help students understand the most complicated maths problems.
There is an old Chinese saying, "A teacher is equivalent to half of a biological parent". Mrs Rastogi has always shown an immense amount of care and allegiance to her students. I still remember when we were in class VIII she used to take our extra classes after school and even in her free classes she used to swap classes with other teachers to cover our course and be of assistance to weak students.
She was a very authoritative and strict teacher; the entire class was very scared of her. Every student in our class used to love her as well as be very frightened of her. We could take the chance of missing the homework in other subjects but never ever dared to miss her homework. She had an immense passion for teaching and she used to make sure that all the students were getting equal attention from her.
I believe it was she who made me understand that maths is not that difficult and gradually my scores started improving in this subject. I had hated math up until that point, but she taught me to love it! She was always so clear in her explanation and I could always understand what she was trying to get at. She always came into the classroom bringing a positive attitude that got us all going.
Moreover, she was easy to talk to and always had time for her students. Her door was by and large open for consultations on previous or upcoming assignments. Her comments on papers were constructive and heartening. She always added a fun "twist" on learning which made the topic easy to understand. She explained everything extremely clearly, then checked every student's notebook to make sure the student had written down what she said and drawn diagrams correctly. I can still remember a large part of what she taught decades later!
Discipline problems didn't exist in her class because there was never an idle moment, or a boring one. Every classmate of mine still remembers her and we constantly talk about her over the Facebook; it's been almost 13 years now but we are really proud to be her students. Having her as a teacher was a blessing! I wish her all the best.
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