Muhammed Kunhi sir had joined my school almost along with me in '67. He used to teach English but did not teach our class as we had another teacher teaching us.
My first encounter with Kunhi sir was when he had stood in during the absence of our teacher. He'd decided to check on our ability at spellings and had put us through an exercise in dictation. At the end of it, after giving us our marks, he'd zeroed in on one of my class fellows who'd joined us from a Malayalam medium school. He'd spelt the word 'satellite' as 'satlight', which sir had highlighted, much to the mirth of the entire class. The teacher deriding a student for lacking the requisite knowledge was unheard of and was definitely not an acceptable thing but sir's subsequent actions to put my class fellow, who'd erred, at ease and putting across to him that mistakes can be made but should never be repeated, was a lesson that all of us carried home from the class that day.
Kunhi sir's pronunciations of certain words had a local flavour much to my amusement and for my class fellows and whenever I think about them, the Dickensian character 'Charlotte' comes to my mind. There had been quite a number of occasions where our naughtiness had enjoyed raucous laughter on this aspect and I must admit that it continues to evoke the same emotions even to this day!
A loving and caring teacher who'd the welfare and the well being of the students uppermost in his mind, always and every time. He used to have an affinity for our class simply because we'd all joined school together. I remember the moment, when I'd gone to meet him before I left school for the last time, as a student. He'd said and I quote, " Rajeev, I'll miss you and your class. You guys were naughty but you're also so full of life and therefore, your antics had always made me smile and I've never felt bad even when your jocular asides were directed at me". I remember walking away from him with a lump in my throat. After coming down the stairs of the dormitory and while I was on the walkway, I remember having glanced back at the first floor window. Sir was putting back his spectacles in place and had a white handkerchief in his right hand. And he waved at me.
Were I and my class the reason for his eyes going moist or was it all my imagination? I'll never know.
Sir passed away due to old age related problems at 2030h this evening.
RIP Kunhi sir. My salute to a fine teacher and a thorough gentleman! I feel lucky to have passed through your tutelage!!
Tailpiece.
Here's wishing the family the strength to tide over this irreparable loss. And yes, they don't make them teachers like him anymore!
My first encounter with Kunhi sir was when he had stood in during the absence of our teacher. He'd decided to check on our ability at spellings and had put us through an exercise in dictation. At the end of it, after giving us our marks, he'd zeroed in on one of my class fellows who'd joined us from a Malayalam medium school. He'd spelt the word 'satellite' as 'satlight', which sir had highlighted, much to the mirth of the entire class. The teacher deriding a student for lacking the requisite knowledge was unheard of and was definitely not an acceptable thing but sir's subsequent actions to put my class fellow, who'd erred, at ease and putting across to him that mistakes can be made but should never be repeated, was a lesson that all of us carried home from the class that day.
Kunhi sir's pronunciations of certain words had a local flavour much to my amusement and for my class fellows and whenever I think about them, the Dickensian character 'Charlotte' comes to my mind. There had been quite a number of occasions where our naughtiness had enjoyed raucous laughter on this aspect and I must admit that it continues to evoke the same emotions even to this day!
A loving and caring teacher who'd the welfare and the well being of the students uppermost in his mind, always and every time. He used to have an affinity for our class simply because we'd all joined school together. I remember the moment, when I'd gone to meet him before I left school for the last time, as a student. He'd said and I quote, " Rajeev, I'll miss you and your class. You guys were naughty but you're also so full of life and therefore, your antics had always made me smile and I've never felt bad even when your jocular asides were directed at me". I remember walking away from him with a lump in my throat. After coming down the stairs of the dormitory and while I was on the walkway, I remember having glanced back at the first floor window. Sir was putting back his spectacles in place and had a white handkerchief in his right hand. And he waved at me.
Were I and my class the reason for his eyes going moist or was it all my imagination? I'll never know.
Sir passed away due to old age related problems at 2030h this evening.
RIP Kunhi sir. My salute to a fine teacher and a thorough gentleman! I feel lucky to have passed through your tutelage!!
Tailpiece.
Here's wishing the family the strength to tide over this irreparable loss. And yes, they don't make them teachers like him anymore!
No comments:
Post a Comment