Ishwarbhai Patel: My teacher

Of the people I lost this year, the loss that saddens me a lot is the sudden death of Ishwarbhai Patel. He was in his late seventies. He took my math and science tuitions in the 10th grade.

For the 12 years that I knew him, I loved him a lot. He had a very discliplined lifestyle, with long morning and evening walks, ate only freshly cooked food at specific times of the day, spoke to the point on phone, and had somewhat radicle views on life, education, parenting and everything else. The last I met him was in 2010.

Ishwarbhai collapsed in the restroom of a park in Ahmedabad after his evening walk in early 2012. This part about dying alone and away from family haunts and hurts me the most.

After the one year that I studied with him, I kept calling him few times a year. He used to say, "I get oxygen for a few more months after talking with you." Ishwarbhai always said he had trained me "for a 100" in math and so when I got 99, I was sad.

But, it is thanks to Ishwarbhai and the way he taught me math and science, that I was able to get admission to Loyola Hall and study under another fantastic human being, Fr. Morondo.

I miss Ishwarbhai a lot today; trying to imagine his voice on other end of the line when I called him on Teacher's Day every year.

Teacher is decisive in class

“I've come to the frightening conclusion that
I am the decisive element in the classroom.
It's my daily mood that makes the weather.

As a teacher, I possess a tremendous power
to make a child's life miserable or joyous.
I can be a tool of torture or an instrument of inspiration.
I can humiliate or humor, hurt or heal.

In all situations, it is my response that decides
whether a crisis will be escalated or de-escalated and
a child humanized or de-humanized."

~ Dr. Haim Ginott

My teacher regularly sends me inspirational quotes. Some of these have been extremely providential. They were right in my inbox when I needed them the most, sometimes reassuring me that I was on the right path, sometimes giving me a direction that I was unable to see due to the smog of apprehension.

The above quote was also sent by email. He also asked his students to share how he is in class. So, this post.

Joseph Pinto is a taskmaster. He is the one who insists on moulding us to the best of our capabilities. So demanding was his insistence on precision in editing and writing, that we, most of whom were fresh graduates with nothing but starry dreams about journalism, had a tough time trying to live up to these academic expectations barely a few months in the course.

He did not tolerate vague elongated sentences that stretched basic information worth eight words pulled to 25. We got half a mark straight for IDK (I don't know) and serious flak for beating around the bush in an attempt to fill the answer sheet. The teacher is decisive in class and the teacher cannot be fooled.

Thank you for the support, the guidance and for being the demanding teacher you have always been. We need more such teachers. Teachers like Joseph Pinto who steer the direction of your professional and personal growth by just being themselves, by not mincing words and by not compromising on what they have stood up for. May be, in the time to come, their wisdom will give us the courage to go 'against the tide.'

Learn while you can

It’s difficult to get good teachers, the real kinds.
Who, with their very passion, can make learning a joy. In their presence, syllabus escapes out of the boredom of books and starts dancing merrily about you. You catch all their words awestruck, sometimes not without a dumb reverence for which friends chide you. Many teachers shaped the course of my life in their own special ways. Like my aaji, or Fr., or Ishwarbhai or Joseph Pinto.

Of the two years I spent in Pune, I owe a lot to his teachings. Pinto has decided to take his experience beyond the restrictions of a classroom. He has started a blog where he intends to discuss what his students and friends wish him to. But he has a condition.

In his own words:
You will have to ask. As the good man says in the good book, "Ask and you shall Receive. Seek and you will Find. Knock and the Door shall be Opened."

Be it editing (how to write a crisp copy), features (typical blog material), reports (the nearly extinct species in newspapers today), or media ethics (a classmate declared journalism selfish- "I write about the ill and poor, get a byline and forget,” she fumed. Pinto called her to the dais, applauded her and talked about journalism activism) --- if you have a question related to journalism, drop in a comment on his blog, Against the tide.

Recalling my student days, Pinto thundered with a fanatic insistence on how words should be used and we wriggled uncomfortably initially. He was unpredictable in his insistence for accuracy. One day he would rip us apart while discussing reports- get furious on seeing any adjective or adverb thrown in a report. The next day, in a feature writing class, he would censor the staid language, lament the loss of imagination; the extinction of innovative adjectives to describe a situation. We thought the man a tad too eccentric when he insisted 'write it down' in response to any raised hand to answer a query. Here's a chance, for everyone to benefit from the expertise of a seasoned editor, a real teacher. Learn while you can.

There's a man I love

There's a man I love. He is mischeivous, he calls people names, he winks. His ancient blue kinetic survived a bad accident. He also survived, btw. Came out of the neurosurgery cracking jokes to be precise. He is eighty and he has more gusto than you and me. For my sake, and for the many others who adore him, I wish him many many more birthdays.

What teachers teach...

It seems that the one person who never really grows old is a teacher. In the company of his students, a real teacher never loses the pace of time, he always remains youthful in his thoughts and attitude towards life.

This species of human profession is most easily the one to be long remembered with deep gratitude and fondness. Everyone has a corner of reverence reserved in his heart for some special teacher. Here are a few golden words from my most beloved teachers…

“No matter what, love your students”, said Fr. John Joseph Morondo, the most lovable septuagenarian teacher of our high school.
“Some (students) might be naughty and some might be outright irritating, but no matter what, you should learn to love them all” answered Fr. Morondo when asked what he thought a good teacher should be like.
His way of teaching was passé any description- he drew and explained biology diagrams with the most obscure similies. Our favourite was when he likened a typical nucleated animal cell after drawing a largish cuboid with a circle inside- to a ‘washing machine’. His classes were pure, simple biology taught in the most direct and lighthearted manner…



Read, Read and Read More said Ishwarbhai Patel. He taught mathematics, but as is the wont of all good teachers, this septuagenarian taught his students much more than numbers.
He implored us to develop a solid reading habit and urged us to read: anything and everything from newspapers, magazines, literature to general knowledge. ‘The more you read, the more you grow’ was his motto.

Learn to say ‘I Don’t Know’ said Joseph Pinto, our editing professor. He was a taskmaster and scoring anything above six in his tests seemed a feat. He took the ‘I Don’t Know’ rule very seriously and promised us to give half a mark on each IDK in the answer sheet rather than we beat round the bush and ‘make silly stories’.
‘You either know, or you don’t know. There are no two ways about it.’, thundered Prof Pinto and how we still fondly remember that growl…

“Have a cold shower”, said Rajendrasinh Jadeja, Camp Coordinator at the wildlife camps we went with him. ‘Cold showers shake of your sleep instantly’, he said. Hot water baths were a strict ‘no-no’ on his list and he supplemented his dislike for a hot splurging luxury by adding ‘It only makes you sluggish.’
Discipline was a way of life for this nature-lover and he saw to it that for the little while that we were at the camp, we stopped being the spoilt brats we were and adhered to a well-chalked out daily schedule.

“Respect food” urges my seventy-nine year old grandmother as often as she can. Aaji, herself a teacher by profession, taught unaccountable number of things- the foremost being respecting food. She insists that any kind of wastage of food is simply unacceptable- given the thousands of those who starve each day in spite of toiling hard in our country.

By Gauri Gharpure

The Sycophant Circle

What has the classroom become like?

Simply put, it has become a venting machine of sorts for them to come and puke out their frustrations and inaccomplishments. They call this teaching...

The process boils up to be a personal vendetta table, where you cross each name which begs to differ. It's an opinionated hierarchy. But mind you- the opinions can arise only from one side of the room, any idea arising from a bench- however genuine it may be cannot hold grounds against the table on which the attendance sheet lies...

There's no space for discussions, arguments, there's no space for a difference of opinion. Often the teacher will go round and round a topic, criticising students for their answers till he himself produces his 'right stream of thought'. Was all the prodding merely an exercise of ego-satisfaction? An exercise in which students are tended like a flock of sheep, expected to walk on pre-decided terrains and think only on those lines which the professor thinks right? Today, education has become more or less a passive exercise- questions are not entertained, unless they are the sort of questions which the teacher can answer...

And then there's this Sycophant Circle...

It's a gathering of ambitious wannabe intellectuals who have just about started preening their down feathers and dream big to fly the same dictatorial regimes like their well-chosen idols...

Classrooms have turned into the battlegrounds of bureaucracy, the centre of attention of any educational institution is invariably a dingy canteen, the centre of affection the canteen staff, which doesn't feign hypocrisy while providing low quality food for high rates. They cheat with a sense of open dignity. That's why they win our affection.

Education?! It's cheating all the way through under the mask of pseudo intellectualism...