Life Lessons
Happy Teacher's Day! Math, science, history - all that is fine. But my teachers also taught me some critical 'life lessons' which I never realized when I was younger. It’s time to appreciate them now.
For a few early formative years, I had a typical 'girls convent' education. Go on, draw all the devilish conclusions that piece of information warrants. Most are bang on.
My class 2 teacher taught me patience. Sister Benny figured I was no good at sports when I stumbled for the 3rd time in the practice sessions for the lemon and spoon race. But I really wanted a medal. So, at the last minute, she signed me up for the needle and thread race. Guess what, I was skimming towards the finish line even before the rest had focused on the needle’s eye. So, I learnt that it may not be very glamorous but your true calling is out there. Just look around.
I am not very sure what exactly my class 3 teacher taught me but I think it was – If you have it, flaunt it. If you don’t, stay covered. Oh, she had it! And she flaunted it with sass, spunk and sizzle. Ms Norma would have given today's Bollywood 'item bombs' a run for their money. I remember her favorite being a red chiffon saree with sleeveless blouse and red sandals. I have often wondered what a colossal waste that was - for God's sake, she was teaching 9-5 in an all-girl's convent without a man in miles. But then, I guess, that was her point. Who cares who's watching? Flaunt it for yourself.
My class 4 teacher taught me how to be sweet 'n charming and win a human heart. She even had the appropriate name - Ms Juliet. She had each student pin up a blank sheet on the class walls and the rest of us scribbled why we thought that student was special. There is something about reading 45 honest, appreciatory notes, in mostly indecipherable handwriting, about hitherto undiscovered facets of yourself, that warms the cockles of your heart. I learnt that nothing gets the work done better than appreciation.
My class 5 teacher taught me the true value of pencil heels - they are enormous confidence boosters, an effective weapon to be wielded in corporate corridors, glam-tools worth far more than their commercial value. Ms Jenny was a size 0 (Kareena Kapoor, she beat you to it!) back then in the 80s when the heroines were voluptuous. And when she clicked into class on 4-inch stilettos, I have never seen her miss a step. God save little urchins like us who skidded into her path - she made mince meat of us. I have a feeling my own unhealthy obsession with heels in my adult life stems from that residual image. She was right though - a girl can take on the world from 4 inches above ground level.
My class 8 biology teacher taught me what it means to be an SME (subject matter expert). I come from a family of green thumbs but the gene must have skipped me because I hate mud (give me sterile, AC, closed-office comfort, any day). Thanks to Bano Begum, I can at least tell the difference between a rhizome and a tuber root. Of course, since it’s not my subject anymore, my expertise ends there. But the takeaway here is if you must know your subject, know it like Bano Begum. She even had her hair styled like tendrils!
My class 10 language teacher taught me that English is a 'rich' language - I kind of use it to make a living. I had a fairly good command of the verbs before I came under Ms Chari's tutelage but she wasn’t impressed with my vocabulary until it included the last four pages of Z in the dictionary. She indulged me when I submitted essays 500 words more than the word limit. But she was also the first to drill into me the importance of KISS. (That's 'Keep it short and simple', so stop snickering!)
This Teacher’s Day, I acknowledge my teachers and the unusual lessons they have imparted. And I better sign off before this ‘life lessons’ post violates Ms Chari’s KISS principle.
For a few early formative years, I had a typical 'girls convent' education. Go on, draw all the devilish conclusions that piece of information warrants. Most are bang on.
My class 2 teacher taught me patience. Sister Benny figured I was no good at sports when I stumbled for the 3rd time in the practice sessions for the lemon and spoon race. But I really wanted a medal. So, at the last minute, she signed me up for the needle and thread race. Guess what, I was skimming towards the finish line even before the rest had focused on the needle’s eye. So, I learnt that it may not be very glamorous but your true calling is out there. Just look around.
I am not very sure what exactly my class 3 teacher taught me but I think it was – If you have it, flaunt it. If you don’t, stay covered. Oh, she had it! And she flaunted it with sass, spunk and sizzle. Ms Norma would have given today's Bollywood 'item bombs' a run for their money. I remember her favorite being a red chiffon saree with sleeveless blouse and red sandals. I have often wondered what a colossal waste that was - for God's sake, she was teaching 9-5 in an all-girl's convent without a man in miles. But then, I guess, that was her point. Who cares who's watching? Flaunt it for yourself.
My class 4 teacher taught me how to be sweet 'n charming and win a human heart. She even had the appropriate name - Ms Juliet. She had each student pin up a blank sheet on the class walls and the rest of us scribbled why we thought that student was special. There is something about reading 45 honest, appreciatory notes, in mostly indecipherable handwriting, about hitherto undiscovered facets of yourself, that warms the cockles of your heart. I learnt that nothing gets the work done better than appreciation.
My class 5 teacher taught me the true value of pencil heels - they are enormous confidence boosters, an effective weapon to be wielded in corporate corridors, glam-tools worth far more than their commercial value. Ms Jenny was a size 0 (Kareena Kapoor, she beat you to it!) back then in the 80s when the heroines were voluptuous. And when she clicked into class on 4-inch stilettos, I have never seen her miss a step. God save little urchins like us who skidded into her path - she made mince meat of us. I have a feeling my own unhealthy obsession with heels in my adult life stems from that residual image. She was right though - a girl can take on the world from 4 inches above ground level.
My class 8 biology teacher taught me what it means to be an SME (subject matter expert). I come from a family of green thumbs but the gene must have skipped me because I hate mud (give me sterile, AC, closed-office comfort, any day). Thanks to Bano Begum, I can at least tell the difference between a rhizome and a tuber root. Of course, since it’s not my subject anymore, my expertise ends there. But the takeaway here is if you must know your subject, know it like Bano Begum. She even had her hair styled like tendrils!
My class 10 language teacher taught me that English is a 'rich' language - I kind of use it to make a living. I had a fairly good command of the verbs before I came under Ms Chari's tutelage but she wasn’t impressed with my vocabulary until it included the last four pages of Z in the dictionary. She indulged me when I submitted essays 500 words more than the word limit. But she was also the first to drill into me the importance of KISS. (That's 'Keep it short and simple', so stop snickering!)
This Teacher’s Day, I acknowledge my teachers and the unusual lessons they have imparted. And I better sign off before this ‘life lessons’ post violates Ms Chari’s KISS principle.
Comments
GOOD FOR YA!!
I've learnt that even out of the mouths of infants, one can learn so much - if we can only be willing to learn.
Thanks gal!