Thursday 1 March 2018

RECOLLECTIONS Sweet and Sour - 03



It is not always that a journalist gets an opportunity to be a lecturer too, though part-time.  When it happens, what will be the experiences of such a person?  In the current posting in the series “RECOLLECTIONS Sweet and Sour” I touch upon my dual-role stint and the strange moments I went through.




THE GRACE OF GRATITUDE
(By Subbaram Danda)


It was evening.   After my duty was over in the Express, I was standing at the Arts College bus stop on Mount Road to go home.  Buying a car was still in the realm of my dreams.  Buses on various routes arrived but not the one I wanted.  I turned somewhat impatient. 

At this juncture a large imported white car passed by, slowed down and turned into the Woods Road adjacent to the bus stop.  They were the days when Ambassadors and Fiats ruled the roost.  So, an imported car easily caught the attention of everybody. 

A minute later a smart-looking girl in her late teens walked towards me, halted and said, “Good evening, Sir.  Where are you going? I can drop you.  My car has just been parked on the side road.”

I was perplexed.  I was not sure who she was.

She continued, “Sir, I am Manju, your student at the Kothari Academy for Women.  Please don’t hesitate.  Come with me, Sir.” 

True, I was taking journalism classes at the Academy in Kilpauk but I could not figure out who the girl was.  The class had as many as 50 students.

As if to convince me further that she was indeed my student, she went on, “Sir, in your class day before yesterday, when you took up “Feature Writing” you also dwelt on “Effective English.”  You made us easily remember the spelling and meaning of the similar-sounding words ‘apprise’ and ‘appraise’ and also ‘stationary’ and ‘stationery.’  The tips and examples you gave we cannot forget.”

She was correct.  However, I was still in a dilemma whether I should accept her offer or not.

Fortunately, as if to save me from embarrassment, my bus came.  Thanking her profusely for the offer and excusing myself, I rushed towards the bus.

Later I learnt that Manju was indeed a keen student of mine and she was the only daughter of the Managing Director of a major corporate entity in the city.  It was heartening that she had no airs or pretentions about her background. 

The bus stop incident was a moving experience for me.  On reflection today, I feel there are youngsters genuinely interested in learning things and for this they want capable teachers.  If one is able to meet their expectations, their joy knows no bounds.  For this they will ever remain grateful to their teacher.   They would like to do at least something in return, when they get an opportunity – a true “Gurudakshina.”

I cannot forget the touch of true grace in Manju’s grateful action. 

My foray into teaching, besides my regular journalistic career, was accidental.  At a press conference I had met a dashing public relations professional, Bharatan, who ran an organization to conduct a course in Public Relations, Journalism and Advertising, all rolled into one, as an extra-curricular activity in city colleges and some other institutions.  He took a fancy for me and inducted me into teaching.  I took care of journalism part of the curriculum.

During my stint at Stella Maris College in the city I had a strange experience.  The strength of the class was about 50, as I reckoned on my first day.  In a week’s time it grew to about 70.  And shortly thereafter it swelled further.  I was perplexed.

I asked Bharatan about the ever increasing size of the class.  With a strange smile on his face, he said, “Our official strength remains the same – 50.  The other students are from another stream, a full-fledged journalism course, conducted by another professional.  They heard about your ways of teaching and wanted to attend.  I allowed them in without charging.” 

He gave a big pat on my back and I felt I was on top of the world.

(RECOLLECTIONS will continue)

March 01. 2018