From my OJT (on-the-job-training) Days : Pretty long but written with a pinch of love!! As I was walking through the verandah in the first floor of St Antony’s Public School, Kizhakkambalam, I said to myself that I was going to spend my last hour there as a teacher. I wondered when I would wear the teacher’s robe again! After all these introspection, I finally reached class IV B. Lower classes are difficult to be handled and so I had no idea as to how I could make my very last class special. Shiby ma’m had told me that their portions were all over; hence I planned to do some lessons in grammar- my favourite area. Just as I entered the class, the students were all excited as I’d been to their class for the first time in that one week’s time. They ran up to me asking for my name. I smiled for a while and said: “Geethu”- my stress on ‘thu’ did make them confused as it did the other classes too! They weren’t planning to settle down and so I shouted out the typical dialogue of a teacher: “Keep quiet”. You can very well imagine how fourth standard students would respond to it. They shouted back to me: “Miss game”- and for me this was a very common phrase I used to hear from students then. The lower classes usually demand for ‘smart class’ and the higher classes would demand for a game inside the class and a few others would ask me to take them outside to the play ground. But, you know, I didn’t have the permission to grant all their wishes. However, once in a while I tried to give them some kind of enjoyment with some indoor games. Anyway, taking them for game outside was out of question. But I really don’t know what the difference was on 1/12/12, 2.35 pm! As the students shouted out: “Miss, we want game” repeatedly, I replied, “Let me ask Shiby ma’m.” I still don’t know why I said that, and why only to them- IV B. To my surprise and their happiness, Shiby ma’m did agree to that. Finally we were out for the game hour for the first time there and that too in my last class. Their demands were unending- badminton, basketball, football….so and so on. Yup, I got them all those and they started playing. And, I roamed about there in the playground as a responsible teacher watching the students at play. The girls playing basketball was more like a comedy film. Four girls were playing badminton in a corner and the boys were quite distant playing football. The scene was more or less happy, enthusiastic and joyous. Cheers!! It did not take much time for me to notice a boy sitting alone on the steps there. To quote from the chapter ‘The Home Coming’ of Class VII which I had taught, “He appeared to me like a philosopher meditating on the futility of games.” I went closer to the philosopher and enquired, “Aren’t you interested in playing?” His reply was prompt, he said with a childish smile, “Yes miss, but my legs would pain.” Thinking that he had some injuries on leg, I asked for clarification. He smiled again with all his innocence and said, “My legs are not well, I would fall down if I run.” Seeing my doubtful face, he continued: “I one month before birth, that is why.” (This sentence of his is not edited as I do not want to steal it off its beauty and innocence, though I had edited other lines to get the sentence construction right). What could I say! I realised he was slightly physically challenged. I stayed silent for a while and then asked for his name. He was still smiling as he answered, “Sam”. I walked along the ground with him, holding his little hands and keeping him close to me. As if awaken from a dream, I then asked him if his legs hurt when he walked. He said it hadn’t. A few steps walk, and we took shelter in the shade of the coconut trees that marked the boundary of the ground. I showered on him a multitude of questions about his family, place, parents, treatment and so and so on. He answered it all like an obedient student. I noticed the despair in his eyes when he said that his mom had kidney disease- hence they are both under treatment. I had not had much to speak; I listened to him silently. We then walked past the basket ball court watching the children playing- their hearts and souls were fully concentrated on the game and the game only. Reaching the verandah steps, we sat down. All of a sudden an idea dawned on me- I played ‘stone-paper-scissors’ with him. This was one of the feasible alternatives as I couldn’t fetch a suitable indoor game for him. And it did work- he enjoyed the game. As we played, I noticed his right hand whose fingers were slightly deformed. He told me that he used his left hand to write. Finally I won the game : 10-9! It was fun; we then continued talking about matters like his studies, his grandma, cousins and a lot more. As the discussion progressed, I asked him what he wanted to be. He replied: “I want to be a nephrologist who can treat my mother.” Out of words was I again. And then it was time for bell, hence I directed them all back to the class. Before we left the ground, I told him that I would pray for him and his mother. I affirmed that they would get well soon. Saying this I wrote his name on my hand (I didn’t want to forget his name; I had interacted with many students in a week’s time). Even without my asking him, he spoke this out, all of a sudden, “My mother’s name is Nisha”. I saw innocence gleaming on his face again. The little angel believed that I wanted their names to pray for them. Being back to the class, students enquired: “Did you play ‘stone,paper,scissors’ with Sam, miss? I said, “Yes”. The next question came in no seconds, “Who won?” As I replied “Sam”, he looked at me in surprise. He smiled, I smiled at him too. I kept on looking at him like a girl in her day-dream, as he packed up for home.
Posted on: Thu, 08 Aug 2013 12:58:05 +0000
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