“We don’t need no education, we don’t need no thought control…. Teachers leave them kids alone!” That was the Pink Floyd anthem. At RIMC however the things were different, here we had venerable masters who were Demi gods and there were masters who were just masters. The masters were not just teachers, they were a lot more…a foster parent, a guide, a life coach and a friend. Adolescence is a difficult period in a person’s life with hormones creating quite a ruckus in the young minds, we had just started to become aware of our physical strength and mind you an all boys school…quite a deadly combination! We all could have ended up quite confused and lost, but the fact is that we survived to tell the tales today; naturally a lot of credit for shaping our character goes to these very gurus.
All of eleven, from a Hindi medium school in Dhar, a tribal area in Madhya Pradesh, this young lad entered the Thimayya Gate with dreams of a haven where princes of yore including the Maharaja of Dhar himself had studied. English obviously was going to be my Waterloo. In the first monthly tests, I recall, I did quite well in most of the subjects except English and Maths. Sadly Maths, my favourite subject failed me, there were two questions one for 4 marks and the other for 6 marks, I knew the 4 marks one but couldn’t understand the 6 marks one, the culprit “English”. I knew the mathematical part but couldn’t decipher it. Lt SM Johar was the Maths teacher and those of us who have had the privilege of having been his students would bear me out. It was common refrain that he was himself taught by his wife and then he came and taught us the same stuff. Not very inspiring. Anyway I knew I had to focus on English and that was going to be my key to success. Fortunately we had Mr GM Khan, who was obviously not a terrorist(!), who turned out to be my Messiah, and the two books, “Living English Structure” by W Standard Allen and “English Grammar” by Niesfield, (hope I have spelt it correctly) not just bailed me out but actually launched me with adequate escape velocity to get into this English orbit, with due apologies to Shri Rahul Gandhi (poverty and escape velocity of Jupiter analogy !). I wonder whether these books are still the prescribed text books for the freshers, if not, the college authorities may consider it. So under his tutelage, I grasped the nuances of the language, the phonetics in the Language lab and by the end of the term, I was among the toppers of my class not only in my favourite Maths but also in English. He was a hard task master, did not suffer fools and my ears still start to ring by the mere mention of his name, he would twist our ears with such a vengeance that we would dare not commit such a sacrilege ever again. Unfortunately for us, he left school in our second term, alas, else some of us may have put many a Shashi Tharoors to shame! While the grammatical aspects were addressed, the interest in literature was kindled by another master, this time a Malayali, who had to seek refuge in the gospel, Mr ON Chacko. He came to the college from Agra where he was teaching undergraduate students. I still recall his treatise on “The Solitary Reaper” by William Wordsworth.
“Behold her, single in the field,Yon solitary highland lass,
Reaping and singing by herself, stop here or gently pass!”
Having got us hooked to good literature, he moved on and I believe became a priest. Maybe that was to atone for our sins or when someone spelt Reaper as Raper(!), He could bear it no more. The third English master was Mr UN Singh, he too did not stay too long but left an indelible mark on some of our faces,(in lighter vein). His characteristic
“O Listen listen ladies gay, no haughty feat of arms I tell
Soft is the note and sad the lay, That mourns the Rosabelle”,
is part of the folklore of our generation in school. Mr UN’s diction was typical, but the depth of knowledge unfathomable. No wonder I was hooked and gradually shifted my loyalties from Hindi to the Queen’s English, inspiring me to read Milton, Shakespeare, Wordsworth, Keats, Charles Lamb, Alexander Pope, Shelley and carried on to Orwell, Somerset Maugham with the occasional Harold Robbins or Ludlum thrown in. In fact I was so enamoured by the language that I actually took a post graduate course in English literature, but since this was from a civil University, the exams were postponed, leave could not be, so couldn’t appear in the exam. In the interim I also got engaged and then the literature was more of “letterature!” in the letters to the fiancee, trying to impress her with my impeccable English. The battle of perception is won, as one comes out well read, bred and led.It never fails, always works guys, so English literature is the key to success. Enough of this colonial hangover, must return to our roots, lest we fall foul of the powers that be.
Hindi was my forte, after all it was my mother tongue, had studied in a Hindi medium school, so Mr K Kumar our Section Master and Mr GS Bisht together harnessed our skills and encouraged us to participate in debates and declamations where we earned our spurs. Mr Kumar himself was an author, so was Mr Bisht, his “Anokha Milan” was an essential acquisition for the weak in Hindi types, I am not sure whether it fetched them any additional grace marks or not, but I don’t recall, anyone failing in Hindi. He would often boast that Manoj Kumar, the actor director of yore had shown interest in acquiring the copyright of his novel for converting it into a Bollywood blockbuster. It had all the basic ingredients of a masala film, I am sure it would have done well.
I recall Mr Kumar bringing a small transistor to the class sometimes, when one of his stories was being broadcast on All India Radio. The access to college library provided me with an opportunity to read Premchand, Nirala “Woh Todti Pathhar”, probably our very own Solitary Reaper, Mahadevi Verma, “Sona Hirni”, Subhadra Kumari Chauhan,” Jhansi ki Rani” Makhan Lal Chaturvedi and his immortal “Pushp ki Abhilasha” and countless other such classics. Premchand’s “Mansarovar”, collection of short stories comprises eight volumes and reading them provided me with a deep insight into the rural India of the early 20th century. Stories such as Idgah have been permanently etched in our memories. Similarly, “Chhota Jadugar” by Jaishankar Prasad or “Hingwala” by Subhadra Kumari Chauhan have moulded our personalities inculcating real secular values and empathy. Hindi was not a favourite with most Cadets, the convent school types, few of us from the heartland however did keep the language alive and vibrant by participating in debates, dramas and even contributing to the chronicles and magazines. Alas today even I find it difficult to express myself in my mother tongue, English comes more naturally.
Literature makes a man a dreamer, but Social sciences equip you for the day to day life. History was interesting as a subject also because of the colourful Capt SW Peoples, the self styled shikari and his Salavador Dali style moustaches. The only shikar he could indulge in while in school was of stray dogs, which was permitted in the pre PETA days, hope Maneka Gandhi doesn’t lay her hands on this else, even Jesus Christ may not be able to save our shikari.In the senior terms another representative from the God’s own country, Kerela, replaced him, who went on to become the Vice Principal,Mr CA Joseph. Apart from history he got us initiated into quizzing, which came in very handy during the NDA entrance exam preparations. We even won a few prizes in some of these quizzes that we participated in. Once he nominated me to attend a Wild Life quiz being conducted at the Welham Girls school. Naturally we went ahead hoping to conquer a few hearts at least, since we really had no clue about wild life questions posed. No such luck, we of course blamed it on their traditional Dosco affiliation, the CJM RIMC and Doon-Welhams affiliations were well known in the schools in Dehradun those days. Maybe that was his way of rewarding the “Medhavis” , after all we were supposedly burning the midnight oil. But the best reward came in 1982 Delhi Asiad, when the Adm Officer Maj Hirak Sen decided to take a group of ‘Medhavis’ (the class toppers), to Delhi to witness the Opening ceremony and a few events. We were the cynosure of all eyes, and boy, that was definitely a reward worth its weight in gold. We stayed at DPS Mathura Road, where Col Varraich, our ex Commandant was the Principal. A similar visit to Delhi Trade fair was organised under Mr Dwivedi, our Chemistry teacher. The aim was to get some ideas for the Science exhibition for the Diamond Jubilee in 1982. That was a great exposure, getting to visit all those pavilions, we were literally wonder struck.
Anyway I am digressing, we need to get back to Social Sciences. Mr RC Sharma the quintessential gentleman, very polished and suave, he was an FRGS, and with almost three decades in the school, he was reverred by the Shivajians as the lord and master. A great sportsman himself, even at that ripe age, he would make us dance to his tune in the squash court. “Geography is what is where, why and so what”, this was a rather unique definition, given to us By Capt Manmohan Singh. He was quite a live wire and he also was the master who cycled with us all the way from Dehradun to Chandigarh. Oh another great experience. The night stay at Paonta Sahib Gurudwara and the Parathas that we gobbled up at a road side dhaba at Narayangarh are still vivid in the memory. The poor dhabawala ran out of his supplies, but the pack of 40 hungry wolves were not done. Geography may not have been very popular, but Capt SP Davray, was among the most popular teachers; cadets would recall his stories with nostalgia, “Tora Tora Tora”, the 70s US-Japanese film attack on Pearl Harbour, much before the Hollywood Pearl Harbour came on the scene, which today’s generation would be more familiar with. Capt Davray incidentally was also at NDA wing, where we were again his students. Capt and later Maj SM Johar was there at NDA and even at CME Pune, when we went for our degree course, I will let the readers guess how did we fare mathematically!
Maths and Mr Singhal are synonymous for most Rimcollians, but he was not just a teacher par excellence, he was an institution, as the Vice Principal; I still recall his motivational talks while we were preparing for our SSB. Very fair and forthright he was above the routine mundane matters where other masters would dwell. His devotion to the school was unmatched and that was life long and not just while he was at the school. Mr LN Thakur was the other Maths teacher, but our association with him was more because of the Kalsi-Mussorie hike of Class 2A. This was our first trek apart from the first term walk to Mussorie from Rajpur Road. I am sure our course mates would agree with me when I say it was among the best mid term hikes. His involvement was not restricted to interaction in the class room. He would invite you over for a glass of ‘milak’. The atmosphere there was rather informal, with Thakur family joining in the conversation, which was quite unique as most of the others did not really encourage such bonding.
With science, the bonding was different,more genetic, I presume, my father being a Professor of Chemistry, it was not just my favourite subject but I actually developed great interest in alchemy. Capt BN Das introduced us to Chemistry as a subject in class 3, but it was Mr SK Dwivedi who was at the receiving end as loose electrons like us didn’t let him be a stable benzene like compound. He tried his best to be inert like the gases but to no avail. His lab assistant, Mr Khanna was knighted during the practical exams, thereafter down-gradation of his stature resulted in volcanic eruptions of expletives. It wasn’t among the popular subjects by any stretch of imagination. In junior classes we were introduced to the “Principles of Physics”, a real thick book by Subramaniam Brij Lal. The POP treatment was awarded whenever Class 3 seniors were at the receiving end either from Mr Nene, Mr Mustaquim or by anyone in general. A classic dose of the book took us defaulters for a space trip with stars for company for the next couple of minutes. Laws of motion, gravitation and all other laws were outlawed as there was absolutely no reaction to this rather violent action! Ideally the POP should have bounced off but just one shot was adequate for our supposed misdemeanour and believe you me, this was foolproof. One dared not venture anywhere near the senior forget about crossing his path for the rest of the term at least. Apart from Physics, Mr Nene was always the cricket umpire during reunions and he was always complicit in all the antics of old boys getting them to win year after year. Mr Mustaquim did not stay too long but he too left a lifelong imprint on us, he would dutifully render the bhajan, “Koi bole Ram koi bole Shyam ” in the temple with his eyes shut as though he was in communion with the Almighty himself. With such teachers setting the example, there was absolutely no scope for any bigotry for us cadets in those very impressionable years. ” Sarv Dharm Sambhav” was inculcated and has its roots running very deep indeed. We are eternally grateful for this gift, specially in today’s vitiated environment.
The most intriguing part of this anecdote is the subject of Biology, where unlike Physics and Chemistry, there are living objects available for experimentation. Study of biology somehow was always on the backburner, although the GK2 paper in NDA entrance exam those days comprised only Science subjects with almost 30% marks allotted to this poor cousin. We had tomake do with Mr Nene attempting to teach us the basics of life sciences, which was quite a travesty, to be honest. Fortunately his daughter Vinita who was herself a postgraduate student then was entrusted this onerous responsibility by the Commandant. For about two months she tried her level best, but the incorrigible lot that we were, did nothing much except gape at her trying to look intelligent and impress her. Finally it was the good old army which came to our rescue just prior to the SSE 10th final exam, when an AEC Hav was deputed to cover the essentials so that we don’t end up with eggs on our collective faces. He did a decent job, no wonder we passed with some of us even managing a distinction in Science, couldn’t have been with only 66% i.e. Physics and Chemistry.
The story of our masters is incomplete without Mr Bhatia and Mr Chaturvedi, I am sure most of the readers are familiar with them and they need no introduction. These two gentlemen have been a permanent fixture in school, ageing seems to have passed them by. In fact very many of us would look distinctly older than them today. The best part of these classes was the stress free environment where our artistic fervour was nurtured. Occasionally we had some culprits, who would go on to draw a Tulsidas who resembled his simian ancestor rather strikingly and end up failing in the subject and receiving a warning from the Vice Principal to show improvement(!). Barring these hiccups, these subjects provided us with that extra bit for holistic grooming, the ability to use the saw to cut the dead wood and file the edges to smoothen the artefact; that is how life actually has been and I dare say we have effectively exploited these nuggets and each one of us has turned out to be a winner in his own right !
We have so very much to thank all of them teachers and all the others too.
