Penning the Pedagogues - 1

Today I would like to remember all those hard working souls who had dedicated their lives in laying the very first foundation stone of my education

NURSERY
Auntie Bridget : The formidable headmistress of Tiny Tots Preschool (though my father still likes to call it Auntie Bridget’s school) where conditions were worse than a military boot camp. Those humongous spectacles, stern look and funky but freaky grey, curly hairdo were enough to strike terror in the hearts of we 3 year olds (or heck any age group!) I really hated going there. My mother would we walk me up to the gate and swear she would be rightttttttt behind me but never came until school was let out!!!! (seriously, what gives?) I remember my beloved headmistress hitting me once because I didn’t eat my sandwiches- those disgusting pieces of bread with sugar and butter in them. I’d like to see you try and eat them “Auntie”!!! The only one who was gutsy enough to stand up to her was my best friend Babloo (for the life of me I cannot remember what his real name is). Once we all sat down at her feet for a round of singing and he surreptitiously lifted up one end of her saree (what is it with guys and lifting girls clothes? I mean even if she’s like 20 times your age?) which sent me into a fit. HE got away with mild scoldings but no……..I was the one who had to get beaten!!! Normal social norms state that in matters of discipline, guys get hit and girls get scolded……..NOT THE OTHER WAY ROUND!! Hey wait……….you know what? It was Babloo who told on me about the sandwiches!!! Grrrrrr…Traitor!!!!

KINDERGARTEN
Now starts my phase of formal education. I mean anyone can survive their long tenure of schooling without attending prep school. I guess it would have been like extra credentials or something. I, of course, had answered all the questions smartly in the interview when it finally came down to the last question………………..
“What is your father’s name?”
Silence.
“Papa? Daddy? What is your Daddy’s name?”
More silence
The truth was that I didn’t know how to pronounce it and till date I still don’t! The normal pronunciation that is…there’s a world of a difference between that and its Bengali pronunciation.
If it wasn’t St. Ann’s, my parents thought, we could put her in HPS! (do not want to think about that) There was this whole rubbish about how ICSE is only for candidates with elder sisters (Really so what did you tell those “elder sisters” when they came to apply?) So we had a family friend whose daughters were studying in the school and we got them to pose as my cousins so I got the OK stamp. (Come on that’s not so illegal! SOME people I know entered with fake birth certificates…..ok my father did the same thing when he had to enter his school ok?) So first day of school……….what do you expect me to say? That I cried and begged not to be taken away from my mother and created such a chaos that even Hurricane Katrina couldn’t match upto? No. Not me!!! I had finished all my crying at Auntie Bridget’s (Trust me there was a lot to cry about)
I actually came back home and said “Mummy, can you believe that the girls there were actually crying!!! That’s so stupid!!! But I didn’t cry one bit!” Girls school generally have a reputation of turning out snobs and I was a snoot to the boot right on the first day. Nice………….

Mrs. Bernis : At a later point of life, I can say that all my school teachers loved me but did I ever start off on the wrong foot! First parent teacher meeting………..”Your daughter has absolutely no manners! She never asks for permission to go to the bathroom! She just gets up and walks out whenever she wants!!!” To quote my 3 year old self “I never ask for permission at home so why should it be any different here? What is the logic here? I will go as I please” I had a point there. Responding to your instincts doesn’t require any social clauses! “Oh and she never submits her books! She always takes them home” Um…..where else will I take them lady? Besides what were you doing, flicking off all our books? She always made us sleep in the afternoons. I never slept during that time and was always reprimanded. Once I noticed the girl next to me drooling and in Dreamland. Eureka!! That must be the key! Drool! So out it came and stuck itself to my desk and I put my head down next to it. There! Now nobody will be able to guess I wasn’t sleeping for real. Golly, I was so smart!! I saw her outside my neighbourhood dentist’s office one day. She gave me a real hard time and I hoped the dentist gave her one.

Mrs. Maria Preza : Ah she was a darling angel! Pretty, gentle and soft-spoken. When I went to visit her in my last year of school, she was still the same just like I remembered her only now she had a very weird accent (maybe it was always there and I never noticed) so now she was pretty, gentle and weird –spoken. We had no problems with each other. But once during a class test she was asking people what sound does a cock make. Other people said “Cock-a-doodle-doo” I said “Kuku rook ku” She gave me look. Now come on!!! Isn’t that a more accurate answer? A cock’s vocal chords aren’t as developed as a human! But otherwise she took my side. Once when a girl unbraided my hair, I asked her to tie it back and she said she couldn’t so I went to her in tears and she gently whacked the girl and told her never to do it again and tied my hair up. She made us play games in class like close your eyes and turn around and one of your friends will call you and tell me who it is. Basically now that I come to think of it, these were just an integrated part of the curriculum to improve our sensory perception and social skills. Sigh! Not much of a help since I got 4/10 in conversation

Hindi Teacher : I don’t remember what her name is and I don’t want to either. I have no idea what kind of qualifications she had or who in their right mind would hire her to teach Hindi. Please!! I learnt better Hindi from my maid servant!! (I never spoke Bengali till the age of 4. I was too much in love with my national language) Once in a fit of anger she told me that she didn’t like my pencil box! It was blue and had a picture of Donald Duck on it and cute!!! That really broke my heart. You don’t tell a 4 year old that you hate her pencil box, what is wrong with you??????????? And why did you give a damn anyways?

Games Teacher : I don’t remember her name either but I can say that the bone structure of her face was very interesting. It resembled something lets say………………a zombie? She would make a very creepy skeleton when she died. She made Auntie Bridget look like a sweet little matron. Dirty shoes. WHACK! Long nails. WHACK! Loose socks WHACK! Her cane was busy 24x7. I do however have a vague memory of her singing “Mere khabon mein jo aaye” one period. Awwwwwwww the magic of DDLJ had spared no one!

Sr. Rose : Our sweet Principal. She was just like her name – rosy and jolly. She really cared for us. She arranged Christmas shows for us, danced with Santa Claus(who I always thought had emerged from a bell), distributed sweets and made it a point to explain to us that it was high time that we stop showing our pinkies and start saying “May I go to the bathroom?” (Yes, me too!) May God Bless You and your soul rest in peace

Sayonee