Opinion An ideal teacher

Last week Phadke Sir passed away. Suddenly,in just a couple of minutes,after he had spent a jovial morning with his family,his body fell gently like an old leaf from the tree. It was taken to a nearby medical college,for he had willed it to be donated for scientific research. He was unorthodox in both life and death.

Education,it is said,is what you retain after you have forgotten most of what you were taught within the four walls of a classroom.When I look back,I am left in no doubt that the best education I’ve received in my life came from Phadke Sir. He was one of the best and most popular teachers in the nearly 100-year-old history of my alma mater. But the respect he earned owed mainly to the love and care he showered on all his students—rich or poor,I coming in the latter category—and to the innovative ways in which he stimulated their intellect and moulded their character. He taught us the dignity of labour and the virtue of voluntarism by making us do rigorous ‘shramdaan’,in true Tolstoyan spirit. And he always joined us with bubbling enthusiasm in all such social service activities. Thus,whenever I visit Athni,I am filled with pride at our collective donation of manual work that contributed,among other things,to the levelling up of our school playground.

At the insistence of my teacher,I worked as a volunteer in a public library in the town,an experience that enormously enriched my love for books. He encouraged his students to work in farms,learn from village life,and to excel as much in sports and cultural activities as in studies.

No less important,he taught his students to question everything and to express ourselves fearlessly. This,he would repeatedly tell us,was the bedrock of all learning.

He also taught us to shun vanity and narrow-mindedness,on the grounds of language,caste or religion. His mother tongue was Marathi,and he was proud of his linguistic identity and cherished its literary heritage. Nevertheless,he taught us in fluent Kannada,the medium in which I studied in high school. Conscious efforts like these went a long way in ensuring a high level of social harmony in our town. I mention this fact because Athni is located in a border district,Belgaum,which unfortunately has witnessed a lot of linguistic acrimony between Karnataka and Maharashtra.

To all the students of Phadke Sir,his humble but ever-inviting home was an extension of our school. And it was there that I found my best friend,and future wife,Kamaxi. Our love was nurtured by the ideals that our common teacher embodied. Each time we,his favourite students,met him,either together or separately,he would invariably ask us: “What are you doing for society? How are you repaying your debt to the common people,who are not as privileged as you are?” He was never fully satisfied with my work in politics,government or journalism. “Your life in Delhi and Mumbai has distanced you from the harsh realities of rural India,” he would remonstrate. “People here need water. They need employment. Agriculture is in big crisis. But does all this really concern the rich and powerful in big cities? No.” Whenever our conversation veered to these issues—and it did so even in my last meeting with him—I could feel the profound sadness,mixed with suppressed anger,in his voice.

This pain and helpless wrath were not his alone. They are shared by hundreds of thousands of ordinary,honest and deeply patriotic citizens in India.

Good teachers are the true builders of a nation. Most of them go unrecognised. It is my hope that this column,which I have written as homage to my beloved Phadke Sir,also in some way honours ideal teachers like him in India’s small towns and villages. Money is not what motivates them,nor fame. Day after day,they untiringly pour their commitment to their noble profession,the noblest of all professions,by educating India’s children in classrooms,playgrounds and laboratories—above all,in the laboratory of life. Today,as I rewind to my childhood four decades ago,I realise why the void in me is so full of gratitude to my guru.

sudheenkulkarni@gmail.com