One Class – Lifelong Memory

Each moment can be a memory.  But rarely we come across some moments that become lifelong memory.  Let me share one such moment from my life.  I was Academic Associate to Prof. D D Trivedi, a visiting faculty at IIMA in 1997 for a course on Finance.  The role of an academic associate was to support the faculty in preparation of courses, development of material, conducting tests, evaluation of answer papers, clarifying doubts of students and so on.  As the teaching was mostly done by the professors, the academic associates rarely got a chance to teach.  Prof. Trivedi was a very senior retired professor, whose style of teaching predominantly involved spending more time explaining the fundamental concepts through real-life examples.  He did not focus much on solving numerical illustrations as he expected the students to do it themselves.  When the mid-term examination approached, the students met Prof. Trivedi with a request to conduct a remedial session (rems, as they are known in IIMA) to clarify their doubts related to numerical exercises.  I still remember, we were near the entrance of the library, I was standing behind Prof. Trivedi.  He turned around and told me, ‘They want a remedial session, why don’t you handle?’.  I was shocked – I should teach? That too at IIMA? Looking at my perplexed face, Prof. Trivedi, patted my shoulder and said, ‘You can do it!’.

The session was scheduled on a Saturday morning.  I spent lot of time preparing thoroughly for the session. I knew the participants would ask tricky questions, after all most of them were graduates of IITs.  I was literally shivering as I walked into Classroom No. 3.  Only about 30 students out of 120 had come for my session.  I could gain confidence as I started solving problems and clarifying their doubts.  From their faces I could sense that they were also happy with my explanations.  Halfway through we took a coffee break for 15 minutes.  When I returned to the classroom, I was surprised to see more students.  Those who were attending my session had gone to the dormitory (hostel) during the coffee break and brought their friends along!

A month later, when the final examination was approaching, the students met Prof. Trivedi again.  This time with a request that they wanted remedial session by me!  Prof. Trivedi turned to me with a smile and said, ‘please go ahead’.  (I would like to salute the greatness of Prof. Trivedi, because I have seen many who get academically jealous under such circumstances).  This time my session was scheduled after dinner at 8 in the evening.  This time too, I prepared well.  I can never forget what I saw when I reached Classroom No.3 at 8 on that evening.  The classroom was full, people were sitting on the floor in front of the black board and more people were coming in!  I was overwhelmed by this response.  Since more students were coming in, the class representatives suggested that I repeat the session once again the next morning so that half of them could attend the next day.  I agreed.  Those who did not get a seat left the room saying they would attend the next day. 

This became a news in the campus.  Prof. N Venkiteswaran was the first to congratulate me the next morning.  Many other professors, including Prof. Trivedi appreciated my efforts.  At the end of the semester, when the students were asked to give feedback on the course, many of them appreciated my efforts and wrote it in the feedback forms.  I requested the PGP Office to give me copies of those feedback forms, which is a precious possession for me even today.  I remain indebted to Prof. Trivedi for giving me this opportunity.  

A boy who grew up in a small city, went to a Malayalam medium school and had nothing exceptional about his education, had impressed the students of the top-most B-School in the country.  A life-long memory was created!

College Garden – Flowering ‘Answers’!

Imagine a college garden. What all can you do there?  Probably, the first thought that came to your mind is romance.  You can also chit-chat with friends; while away time after bunking classes; or observe the plants and their features, especially if you are a student of botany.  But can you imagine writing an examination sitting in the garden?  That is what I did in 1992!

I was a ‘privately registered’ student for B.Com.  Privately registered students do not get admitted to a regular college affiliated to the university.  Instead, they study in private colleges, which do not have any connection with the university.  Such colleges are popularly known as ‘Parallel Colleges’ in Kerala.  When the year-end examinations come, the university allots a regular college as exam centre to all private candidates.  I was allotted a famous college in the heart of the city as exam centre.  That day we had Hindi exam.  The exam was in the afternoon from 2 to 5.  When I reached the college at around 1.30, I was asked to proceed to a classroom on the first floor of the building.  When I reached the classroom, I was surprised and shocked to see that around 100 students had gathered in a classroom, which could hardly accommodate 60.  More students were coming in.  The university had allotted a greater number of students than what the college could accommodate.  Probably, the college didn’t have any idea about this.  There was utter chaos. 

The college authorities managed to get additional copies of the question papers.  They asked the students to sit wherever they could!  Some sat on the corridor, some on the staircase and some moved to the garden!  I was thoroughly disappointed and angry at the treatment meted out to the private candidates.  I thought, this must somehow come to the limelight.  I was almost sure that the examination will be cancelled.  So, I submitted the paper and came out of the college within 30 minutes.  I went straight to the press club, which was close to the college.  I narrated the incident to the first person whom I met there.  Initially, he was not convinced, but when I showed him my admit card, he seemed to believe.  He said ‘okay’ and went inside.  I was not sure, if he would do something.  So, I went to a nearby public call office, took the telephone directory, made phone calls to the offices of few popular newspapers such as Malayala Manorama, Mathrubhumi, Indian Express etc. and narrated the incident.  I enjoyed a cup of coffee from a nearby coffee shop and went back to the college.  After a while, when I reached the college, I saw many press reporters there.  I had done my bit!  (Had this happened today, the pictures and videos would fly to all parts of the world instantly). 

I waited eagerly for the next day’s newspaper.  Yes, the story was published on the front page with photographs.  The university and the college blamed each other for the fiasco.  The exam was cancelled and rescheduled.  Next day I narrated this to one of my friends.  He was furious, ‘so, you are the one who spoilt my fortune?’. ‘What did I do?’, I asked.  He said, ‘amidst all that chaos, I had nicely copied all the answers from the textbook.  Now, I have to study all over again’!! 

Omega - Synonym to Discipline

When I was studying in the ninth standard, my father admitted me to Omega Tuition Centre at Kochi.  Omega, run by Sri. Subramanyan Master was a popular tuition centre at Kochi.  The tagline of Omega was ‘shikshanam shikshayiloode maathram’, meaning, ‘teaching only through punishment’.  True to its tagline, Subramanyan Sir strongly believed that learning can be ensured only through strict punishment.  He had a large collection of ‘chooral’ (cane/switch), with which he used to beat the students who did not study well or misbehaved in the class.  The fear of punishment kept the students on their toes, and they all performed well in the exams.  Though the students were reluctant to join, their parents loved and preferred Omega!

There was punishment for almost everything – making mistakes in tests, not answering questions, remaining absent from the class, coming late, misbehaving, etc.  Absenteeism was not at all tolerated.  If a student remained absent, his/her parent was supposed to meet Subramanyan Sir personally and take permission.  Otherwise, there was severe punishment.  His style of giving tests was unique.  He usually gave 10-15 minutes tests.  There were close to 80 students in the class.  At the end of the test, he would ask all students to stand up.  Then he would start dictating the answer.  At any point if a student found any mistake in his/her answer paper, he/she had to immediately sit.  At the end only few would be standing.  He would go to them and check only their answer papers, because all others had already admitted that they had made mistakes.  Then he would announce, ‘all those who are sitting, please stand up and all those standing may please sit’.  He would start beating from one end of the classroom.  There was a narrow passage leading to the classroom.  At the end of each day’s class, he would stand near the passage with his ‘chooral’ and ask questions to each student and punish if they could not answer quickly.  Misbehavior and creating nuisance were never allowed.  For the first time in my life, I experienced ‘pin-drop’ silence in his class.

But it was not just the punishment that made Subramanyan Sir unique.  He was an excellent teacher who had devised wonderful means of teaching tough concepts in an easy-to-understand and memorize manner.  He used a variety of techniques like using abbreviations, narrating stories, teaching equations like nursery rhymes etc.  His techniques were aimed at making the concepts crystal clear in the minds of the students and providing easy ways of memorizing.  His style of teaching was so effective that I am able to recollect many things that he had taught me, even after three decades!  He used to teach English, Mathematics, Physics and Chemistry – the subjects which were found to be tough by the students.  Today we see exponential growth in learning apps that claim to teach tough subjects in simple ways.  But Subramanyan Sir did exactly the same, four decades ago!  If he were to be teaching today, with the aid of technology, he would have given tough competition to all these learning apps.

No doubt, the subjects taught by Subramanyan Sir helped us in passing the tenth standard with flying colours.  But, more than those subjects, he taught us some important life-lessons, without explicitly mentioning them.  He taught us the importance of discipline, hard work and dedication.  I believe, only that teacher, who is fully committed to his profession has the right to punish his students.  And Subramanyan Sir was the epitome of dedication to one’s profession.  At any point in time if a student or his/her parent was not happy with his style, he used to refund the entire fee and allow them to discontinue.  A person with a commercial bend of mind could never do that.  He never cancelled or rescheduled his classes.  More than the students, he was always committed to the parents, who had reposed their faith in him. 

Omega was closed few years ago.  Subramanyan Sir is leading a retired life at Kochi now.  Thanks to the tireless efforts of a small group of his old students, Kochi Corporation has named the street adjacent to the tuition centre as ‘Omega Road’.  The same group has taken the initiative to bring together all students of Subramanyan Sir spread across the world.  Today, the same students who were afraid of him once, are coming together to celebrate his contributions.  As a teacher, I have been immensely influenced by him.  Let me offer my ‘Pranaams’ to this great teacher and wish him good health, happiness and joy for all the years to come. 

The Killer Guide!

Guiding project work of students is an integral part of my profession.  I have come across many interesting incidents while guiding students in their project work.  Over the years the students have started copying whatever material is available on the internet and submitting the same as project report, without even reading it. So, I keep telling my students that the only unfortunate soul destined to read your report is your project guide! But one particular incident is unforgettable.

Once a boy submitted a copy of his project report to me.  While reading, I saw something strange in ‘Acknowledgements’.  I did not know whether to laugh or fume.  That evening during a project review meeting I brought this to the notice of Prof. Malathi Bolar, who was the Director of my Institute at that time.  Prof. S N Murthy, a senior colleague and a good friend of mine, was also present.  We could not control our laughter reading what the boy had written.  Prof. Bolar said, ‘let us call this boy and have some fun’.  He was immediately summoned.  Prof. Bolar was a tough lady and getting summoned by her was itself enough to terrify anybody.  Slipping over the report to him, she said, ‘Read what you have written there. What does that mean?’  He picked up the report and started reading.  I could see his face turning pale as he progressed.  With shivering voice, he said, ‘I am sorry madam, I am really sorry.  I don’t know how this happened.  I will immediately change this madam, sorry madam……..’ 

This is what he had written in Acknowledgments: ‘I would like to thank Prof. M Ajoy Kumar for his assassination during the project work’!!! He probably wanted to write ‘Association’ or ‘Assistance’. 

While walking out of the Director’s office, Prof. Murthy whispered in my ear, ‘at last somebody showed the courage to tell you the truth’!!! We couldn’t stop laughing.  Few years later, when this boy came to meet me, I told him, ‘Hey, you are still around? I had assassinated you long ago!’

(Note: This boy is in touch with me.  Some of his batch mates may remember this incident.  I request you not to reveal his name or tag him in your comment.  My intention of writing this is just to share a funny anecdote, not to embarrass him)

 

AC Chair Car

When I was living at Ahmedabad, occasionally I used to travel to Mumbai for job interviews or for visiting my relatives.  All these journeys were by second / sleeper class train.  I had never travelled by an air-conditioned coach.  I always had a strong desire to travel by an AC coach, which was costly.  Once I managed to save enough for a Mumbai-Ahmedabad AC ticket.  During my next visit to Mumbai, I reserved AC Chair Car ticket by Karnatavi Express for the return journey.  Karnavati Express is a day train connecting Ahmedabad to Mumbai.  It leaves Ahmedabad early in the morning, reaches Mumbai by noon and returns to Ahmedabad the same night.

I was eagerly looking forward to the journey.  On the day of journey, I reached Mumbai Central Station well in advance.  I was really excited that I was about to travel by an air-conditioned coach.  I was wearing the best dress I had.  I bought Times of India and few English magazines.  After all, I was travelling by an AC coach, and I had to match the level of that class!  As I was entering the station, I heard an announcement, ‘Kind attention of the passengers travelling to Ahmedabad by Karnavati Express.  Due to some technical reason, AC Chair Car coach number C3 is not attached to the train today.  Instead, a second-class sitting coach, S15, has been attached.  Passengers travelling by C3 may please collect the fare difference from counter no.10.  The inconvenience is regretted’.  I pulled out my ticket - Yes, my reservation was in C3!  With a fallen face, I collected the fare difference and moved towards the second-class coach.  With lot of jealousy, I looked at those getting into the other two AC coaches – C1 and C2.  Meanwhile, the railway authorities were repeating the announcement in Hindi as well as Marathi!

Few months later I had to visit Mumbai again for attending a written test.  Again, I reserved the return ticket by AC Chair Car on Karnavati Express.  Since my ticket from Ahmedabad to Mumbai on the previous night was not confirmed, I had to travel the whole night by sitting, which was very uncomfortable.  I reached Mumbai in the morning and went straight to the test centre.  Due to some reason, the test got delayed.  When I came out, I barely had time to reach the railway station.  I quickly jumped into a taxi and asked him to rush me to Mumbai Central.  Wading through Mumbai’s traffic, when he dropped me in front of the station, it was almost the time for the train to depart.  I ran into the station.  From a distance itself I could see - there was no train on the platform.  I thought I had missed the train.  But the platform was full of people.  When I reached the platform, to my relief, I came to know that the train coming from Ahmedabad had not reached yet.  All trains from Ahmedabad were delayed due to derailment of a goods train near Vadodara.  Karnavati Express would arrive by 4.30 pm, I was told.  I had three more hours at my disposal.  So, I enjoyed a sumptuous lunch at a nearby restaurant.  The heavy meal and previous night’s lack of sleep made me slumberous.  I bought that day’s Times of India.  (No, this time it was not for reading in the train!) I moved to a relatively silent corner of the platform, spread the paper, and slept off.  After a while, I was awakened by the siren of a train.  It was not my train anyway.  Finally, Karnavati Express arrived at 5.30 pm.  Yes, the AC coach was very much there.  I jumped into the train and made myself comfortable on the cushioned seat, that too a window seat!  But, within few minutes of the train departing, the comfort of air-conditioning made it difficult for me to keep my eyes open.  I slept through almost the entire journey.  Past midnight when I got down at Ahmedabad Junction, though I didn’t enjoy it fully, one of my long-standing desires was fulfilled!

Roomies!

In September 1996 I moved from Kochi to Ahmedabad to join IIM. Throughout my school/college days I was a day scholar. So, I had never lived away from home till then. Initially I stayed with my cousin at Ahmedabad for a week. He was working for Airports Authority and was living at Sardar Nagar, near Ahmedabad Airport, which was far from IIM. So, I kept searching for accommodation near the campus. One day Chinnam Reddy, a colleague at IIM, told me that one of his room mates had vacated and I could join them. He took me to his place and showed around. It was a two-room accommodation on the first floor of a building near Vijay Char Rasta. There was a small balcony and a terrace. Along with Chinnam, two more were living there – Venkatraman, an officer at Corporation Bank and Pankaj Nautiyal, an executive in a private firm. I liked the place and told him that I would move the next weekend.

As planned, I reached the place with my luggage on Sunday morning. Chinnam introduced me to Venkat and Pankaj. I was not sure how I would adjust to the new circumstances. I told them I had some work in the city and left the place. I didn’t have anything specific to due. It was the initial difficulty of adjusting in a new place and the apprehensions of living away from home that made me come out. I moved around the city the whole day and returned by evening. To my surprise, all the three were waiting for me to take me out for a dinner as a welcome gesture! I was really touched by this. I told them I would be ready in fifteen minutes. Venkar Bhai (that’s how we called him as he was the eldest in the group) asked Chinnam and Pankaj to leave immediately to the restaurant and he waited for me to get ready. I didn’t know why those two had to go early. When we reached Topaz, a popular restaurant at Panjrapole, I realised why the two had left early. There was a big crowd in front of the restaurant waiting for their turn. There was a tall fat man standing at the entrance with a writing pad in his hand. People were supposed to reserve seats with him and as the tables got empty, he would call people inside! We had a sumptuous dinner that night. It was just the beginning of a wonderful camaraderie that lasted for almost two years.

We used to head to our workplaces in the morning and hardly got anytime to talk to each other in the mornings. It was in the evenings that we used to spend time together. We used to search for new food joints for dinner. We went straight to the terrace after the dinner with a small transistor radio. ‘Vividhbharti’ was our favorite station and the legendary Ameen Sayani, our favorite anchor. Sunday was meant for cleaning. Mostly we used to have only tea and biscuits on Sunday mornings from a nearby ‘chaiwala’. After cleaning the house and washing clothes, we used to head for a heavy lunch, followed by a siesta!

We represented various parts of this country – Chinnam Reddy from Hyderabad, Venkat Bhai from Chennai, Pankaj from Himachal, and I from Kochi. A mixture of Telugu, Tamil, Pahari, and Malayalam! So, we spoke mostly in Hindi or English. Disproving all my apprehensions, I thoroughly enjoyed their company. The two years that I had spent with them remains fresh in my memory. Unfortunately, I lost contact with Venkat Bhai and Pankaj after I moved out of Ahmedabad. Chinnam is in touch with me.

Forget mobile phones, none of us even had a still camera. So, I don’t have even a single picture of those days. A small idol of Ganesha gifted by Venkat Bhai adorns my pooja room even today and a pocket dictionary gifted by them on my birthday continues to be on my office table! 

Known Strangers

During my childhood, there was an old lady who used to sell roasted chickpea (kadala) and peanuts (kappalandi).  She was very old, short, and thin with a stoop.  Even at an advanced age she had to work to make both ends meet.  She always wore plain maroon or blue colour saree with black border.  Of course, the color of her saree was always dim.  She carried chickpea and peanuts in a big cloth bag on her shoulder.  She had a small cylinder-shaped measuring vessel made of aluminum.  She used to sell one heaped vessel of nuts for 10 paise.  She carried the bags on her shoulder and walked from street-to-street shouting “Kadala, Kadala, Kappalandi”.  Her voice was feeble and the pronunciation not clear.  Still, most of the people, including us, bought nuts from her.  More than taste of the nuts, lending a helping hand to her was the reason behind many people buying from her.  She was a quiet lady, who never spoke anything.  She would just come, give nuts, collect money, and keep moving.  I didn’t know anything about her; name, place of stay, her family, nothing was known.  I suppose the same was true with most of my neighbours too!

Another character that comes to my mind is a beggar, whose name was Hussain.  He was dumb.  Though his name was Hussain, people called him ‘Pottan’.  Pottan in Malayalam means idiot, but in colloquial language, it also means one who is dumb.  He used to come to our house almost twice or thrice a week.  He would stand near the gate and keep knocking till some of us saw him.  We used to give him something (mostly 10 or 20 paise coins).  He used to collect it and move to the next house.  My grandmother believed that no alms should be given on Tuesdays and Fridays and my parents continued this tradition.  So, when Hussain came on Tuesdays or Fridays, we used to ask him to come the next day.  He would still wait for some more time before leaving.  During festivals and other special occasions, we used to offer him food.  Beyond his name, we didn’t know anything about him. 

As I grew up, the frequency of visits by these two came down and eventually they stopped coming.  I am sure we all have such characters in our lives, whom we would have met a hundred times or more, and still, we didn’t know anything about them.  It could be anyone, the candy seller in front of the school, the rikshaw/cab driver, peon who rang the college bell, boy who served tea in the canteen, fruit vendor on the pavement, and so on and so forth!  Have we not met them so many times? Yes.  Do we know them? Yes.  But do we know them enough? No.  Still, their faces, voices, mannerisms, everything is permanently etched in our memory.  Yes, they are known to us, yet they are strangers.  W B Yeats says, ‘there are no strangers here, but friends you haven’t yet met’.  But the people mentioned by me are ‘strangers whom we met many times’…. So, they are ‘Known Strangers’!