Un-teaching

I've always heard people talking about teachers in revered terms. A 'Guru' is one who enlightens us, makes us a better person on the inside and is next to God for most of us who have the honor of having been taught by one for a substantial amount of time. Isn't this the way many of us think? Don't we go out buying cards, flowers and gifts on Teacher's Day to show our immense gratitude and affection? Many of us even keep contact with our old teachers as we feel that the holy dust of their experince might rub off on us as well and save our neck's from evils that lurk beyond the classrooms. I'm no exception and have in no way disrespected any one my teachers(barring a couple who in my opinion landed in the wrong profession) and continue to do so with utmost solemnity.

Alas! An incident that occured a few days back, left me feeling deeply sorry for myself and for everyone else who chooses to blindly follow those people who regard their own noble profession as a money-making ploy. Last friday, i reached college five minutes after my class was scheduled to start. I entered and asked for permission as i would do normally. However, the class was going to be anything but normal.

The teacher was new(actually 'is' is a better word. He still teaches me) and by his appearance seemed to be pretty normal and less severe than a few others we had encountered this trimester. I sat back, still groggy and dull with sleep. Fumbling with my bag, i heard someone screaming. It was good old Zombie, with a voice any rat would die for! I know I'm being mean but then Zombie is also famous for the same and i wish to give it back to her. Anyhow, after screaming out thrice, her name was boldly spelt and pronounced by the usually absent Miss. N, who never misses an opportunity to make her rather large presence felt in her accented voice. Reality dawned upon me. It was introduction time; the same old 'my name is...' and 'i have done...' would be repeated by harried dozens in a drawl so as to lessen teaching time. This time though, it seemed different. Zombie's inability to shout out her name convincingly had raised questions. A barrage of curiosities had arisen in the new professor's mind and he was out to satisfy himself. Zombie's school, graduation college, her parents, her friends, her dog as well as her manner of dressing( which was a matter of curiosity for everyone) were commented and critically analyzed before us all. Offences were meant to be given and they were taken as a logical consequence. Zombie sobbed and Miss. N got a chance to provide accented consolations as she awaited her own fate. Exceptions werent made in the class and none was spared by the professor( and I shall refer to him as Mr. You Know henceforth since that is how his sentences began). After our introduction, we didn't need a mind reader to know what he thought about us, our families, our bf/gf, our attitude, our fashion sense or even our unredeemable futures.

Mr.You Know continued his 'introductions' but not without letting us 'know' few things about himself. They are the commandments of his life and so they must be spread among as many as possible. They are stated just as he let us 'know' them-
1. Never be late. Your boss will screw the life out of you. Big time.
2. Your college is shit. Your competition is with crap. You think you can succeed? Bullshit. Big companies will screw you like anything.
3. Don't say sorry. Only say sorry to yourself. No one gives a f***. They screw you.
4. These instituitions that call themselves post graduate colleges suck. They extract money and screw you high and dry man!
5. If you are late, you're gone. No one listens to your excuses. Lies are caught like fish. One lie and they screw you. They just screw you.
and i've saved my personal best for the last,
6. If you're wearing socks then pull up those else for those who wear 'chaddis' pull up your chaddis right now. This is the time. Do it now or they'll screw you forever.

Such were the lessons we started off with. The class was far from boring as most of us were learning new things. We felt new emotions. This was strange compared to the sameness we feel after all classes where we learn more about an MBA's life rather than a nail's life(since we were doomed to be screwed). For the first time i went up to Zombie and shared her feeling of disgust and deep anger alongwith a desire to be mean to someone, anyone just to get rid of the feeling of self-worthlessness. The class ended with a phone call received by Mr. You Know. We heard him excusing himself from some work saying that he was not teaching that day since he was in an urgent meeting that would go on till late. Hmmm...i say its too bad because now they'll screw him!