Hrishi’s Test paper, Engineering College and recollections of my Teachers

Hrishi, our   elder son, comes home quite pooped out  from School and somehow drags himself with the heavy bag at his back. He meets his mother right at the entrance waiting for him. Apple doesn’t fall far from tree and like his Papa, he enquires about the menu . If it’s any of his favorite NonVeg items, his eyes outshine the   setting sun. On some days, only “grass” on the plate makes his weariness quadruple and in abhorrence, he lets his body drop on the bed like a log.

So seeing him come hopping on one foot, My wife Arpana knew he had some exciting news to break. His face was blushing with the concealed excitement and eyes shining bright like stars. From his bag, he brought out his Mathematics test paper and displayed to his mother with all pride. It was a rare feat to score perfect twenty for the first time in life !

Making Hrishi understand the concept of Multiplication and Division was a herculean task for me. Whenever I needed to explain him, I used the example of a cow. One cow has 4 legs so how many for three cows…blah..blah. For fraction, I used the example of a rotten Potato. The other day, he was complaining to his mother about me frequently using only those two examples. His mother told him both were just apt exemplar for his kind of student. Of course, now I need to be careful not to misuse with the word “cow” under the changed social dynamics in India !

Hrishi’s excitement lasted till I arrived at home from Office in the evening. At Dinner table, he asked – Papa, What do you think about our Ma’am’s response in getting me perfect 20 ?

How do I know ? You didn’t tell for once – I replied.

After getting the test Paper, Hrishi asked his Ma’am about the other students scoring  20. Ma’am replied – Can you see any student jumping like a monkey other than you ?

Hrishi’s joy reminded my own days, not in School but in Engineering College when I presumed myself as quite grown up. I was in the Fifth semester and Bandana Madam used to take classes on Fluid Flow Operation (FFO). In one of the Class Tests, I got 19 out of 20 and I immediately enquired with Madam about the highest mark in the test. For a moment, she kept on looking at me, smiled and told, it was 19.

Many incidents of my College days, I don’t remember today. But I still remember Bandana Madam’s affectionate stare on that day. Perhaps, to her, the 19 year old boy appeared like a kindergarten kid with that innocent query.  

In Engineering Final Semester, we had to choose an optional subject between Operational Research(OR)  and Environmental Engineering. While the entire Chemical Batch of 1996 went for Environmental Engineering,  I and my close buddy Mahato opted for Operational Research. Environmental was a pet subject for Dr Raghabendra Choudhury , HOD of Chemical Engineering Department. So while Sir entered for the Environmental class,  we two moved out.

“Where are you going ?” Sir asked

“Sir, we have opted for Operational Research” – I said

“Go….oh…”  Displeasure was perceptible in his voice.

Next day we two were called by Late Biswajit Choudhury to his chamber. He gave us an earful for going after OR instead of Environmental Engineering which to him was more essential for a Chemical Engineering Graduate. We knew, our HOD had asked Biswajit Sir for counseling both of us.

So next day, we two were sitting in the class when Dr Raghabendra Choudhury entered. He looked at us and enquired why we had not gone for the OR class. We told him, he had changed to Environmental Engineering.

In a moment, his face turned into an embodiment of  happiness and contentment which I will never forget in my life. Perhaps, that was one of the best gifts which as a student we could offer to him. And latter working in a Refinery, I understand, Raghabendra Choudhury Sir was absolutely spot on to force Environmental Engineering on me.

Dr Mrinal Baruah Sir was another person who can be best described by the coconut - hard at the outside and soft inside. Once I forgot to get the answer sheets in Graph Papers of Mass Transfer Operation (MTO) Final Exam papers signed by the invigilator. I was worried whether my answers in the Graphs will be accepted. When I approached Sir, he stared sternly and asked whether I have finished everything for the next exam paper asked to get out from his chamber immediately.

I got 89 out of 100 in that Mass Transfer Paper.

There’s another teacher I can’t afford to forget. She was Kamala Baideu who used to take me from our home to the Primary school at Hajo, lifted by bag on the steep slopes, arranged special examination when I missed a few. Even today, whenever she meets me, I can see the affection and kindness which I received in abundance  as a four year kid have not changed anything.

 (2)

Dr Balindra Kumar Sarma was our Hostel Superintendent in New Hostel, Cotton College. Our Hostel was just below one of the most sought Colleges of our time - Handique Girls College. Once, few of our friends including me bunked classes and were befriending with our neighbors exchanging pleasantries. While the Girls were  safe at top, the most vulnerable was our Romeo group at the ground from the  “fringe elements” like our Superintendent Sir ! As usual I soon got engrossed at my job and all of a sudden, found my friends vanishing into thin air. Instead  a hand of Sarma Sir was coming in the direction of my cheek. It would have landed at the right spot if I were not athletic in those days.

After the first year, I came to Block-1 near Superintendent Sir’s residential. I loved singing in those days  as sweetly as the Jian of the Doraemon cartoon. In one of the election campaigns, students of DS Hostel even demanded Himanta Da (Himanta Biswa Sarma ) to silence my singing if he was voted as Secretary.

“Do you know PG Final Exam of Baideu is underway” – One day Sir enquired with me very quietly. His daughter was appearing for PG Final Exam.

I was happy that Sir was so fond of me to share this news. I told him I already knew about that and in fact a few days ago,  I called  a  rickshaw for her.

All of a sudden, to my surprise, he shouted - if you are aware, why don’t you stop singing. Next time, if you sing, I will see you out from the hostel.

There were frequent complaints against me. Intimidation of deducting fines from  caution money for eating three Parathas instead of allotted two, Night Show in the nearby movie hall, Sitting at the Gate while army motorcades moved on during the start of Operation Rhino and many more continued in the two years of stay in new Hostel. So, when I was told at College Office to collect my HS Final year certificate from Superintendent Sir, I thought, some of the previous good acts might have prompted Sir to seize my certificate.

Instead, surprise was waiting for me as I was given a warm welcome. He asked me what I intended to do. I told him about doing Engineering in Guwahati only as my father was firm in choosing the place where he could keep an eye on me.

As I touched his feet, he blessed and murmured – “ Do well in life “ and I could see his eyes moistening at some corner and so did mine. That was the last time, I saw Balindra Kumar Sarma Sir as I never went back to new Hostel thereafter.  Neither I ever visited Assam Engineering College Chemical Building since May 1997.  Wish Sir is still going strong and guiding students like he did to us.

 

 

 

You can contact Kamaljit at kamaljitmedhi1975@gmail.com

We all will be loners someday

My mother's life revolved around 6 of us, Father and five children. All of us were demanding and she took enormous pain to manage time to carry out all the household jobs, help us with home work and read books. As her education stopped right after matriculation for marriage, she wanted all the children to be equally good at studies. At school, she won Government scholarship while myself failed to get any till school. 

One by one, we left home after school. First to Cotton College followed by either university or Engineering College. One by one went further away for jobs and marriage leaving our parents to remain alone at home. When we were not around, our empty beds reminded them about us. 

This time in Bihu, all of us were together at home after quite some time. Parents were so happy, they became children again. Once again, all of us left them one by one . Yesterday, somehow she missed the step, fell down and had multiple fracture at her leg. 

So while , her fractured bone is being fixed in Guwahati, I am far away in Delhi and she says I don't need to rush leaving my jobs. Feeling so terrible !

While searching for some documents, my brother found a poem in her diary which he shared over WhatsApp family group. I am once again sharing it with my friends.
Another facet of mother none of us knew earlier.

(Written on Facebook wall on  21 Jan,2015)

You can contact Kamaljit at kamaljitmedhi1975@gmail.com

Tribute to my teachers on the eve of “Guru Utsav”

15th August has been the true Independence Day for me. The day marks my own independence as I joined Cotton College SNBC Hostel (Formerly New Hostel) on 15^th Aug, 1990, as a HS 1^st year (Sc) student. It was once said “What Cotton thinks today, Assam will think tomorrow”. By the time I joined Cotton, the College had lost much of its earlier sheen, but the adage still held true.  The drifting Cotton of 1990 , void of any great thinking, typified the next two decades of murkiness in the History of Assam.

Before joining the College, my family decided that there were very few doctors in our extended family and really required one in me. So it was no wonder that I was to take Biology as one of my subjects.

The first class was of Physics by a dreary professor who came and straightway started writing the Coulomb’s law of electricity at the board.  Till then, I didn’t have an iota of information what and how electrons work. Somehow, I could endure the 45 odd minutes and decided never to attend his classes in future. To my utter disbelief, I found most of the teachers in the other subjects were also to be quite mediocre contrary to my expectation. Worst were the Professors in Assamese Department as we sometimes had to invite them to class and many of them adopted innovative technique to kill the time on irrelevant discussions. The glorious past of the dream of Sir Henry Cotton and Manik Chandra Baruah had started decaying thick and fast. Having said that, I must also mention that there were few extremely good professors in Cotton in 1990. But the wholesome degradation of the state was perceptible as  the college administration had to bow at times to the whims of few powerful students and some of them became powerful political heavyweights latter on.

However, my hope of becoming a Doctor met stiff resistance from the Biology class. The subject was not at all palatable to me as I had to mug too much without understanding head or tail. We were made to make drawings from various specimens in the laboratory  and as usual I was found to be the one most wanting. One Botany Madam was very particular with the drawing quality and separate sitting plan for boys and girls. But her advisories could hardly stop me in whispering to my friend in the next bench, who kept on fascinating me in those days and I could hardly keep my eyes off . It didn’t escape Madam’s attention and wrath. She immediately ordered me to move out from her class. Thus nipped in the bud , the hope of my family seeing me donning the white uniform with a stethoscope over it.   

Today, when I read articles related to Medical Science, I wonder why I missed the same excitement of reading my Biology books in Higher Secondary.  Perhaps,I thoroughly missed a teacher in Botany & Zoology who could inspire me to love the subject, the challenge which distinguishes great teachers  from the middling.

Like the Biology, the Chemistry was also no different for me as I got totally puzzled by the concept of Valency and others till I met Dr. Satyendra K Choudhury Sir.A very good Violinist and even better human being, the three months, that he taught us Chemistry at his home, was good enough for me to fall in love with the subject. Perhaps I will carry the elementary mole concept, the gas laws, Inorganic and Organic Chemistry which Sir taught us in those days to my death bed. The basic concepts of Chemistry still helps me as an Energy professional to understand how the intricate molecules behave and make life difficult at times.

When I am writing this blog as a tribute to my past teachers, the foremost name that I can recollect like a wink of light is Late Dinesh Sarma. He was my teacher cum friend cum philosopher in my childhood. I remember the first day, he didn’t ask me to open books . As I asked him relentless questions, he kept on answering those with such patience & interest that I felt myself to be immensely important. He couldn’t come everyday to our house, as he was suffering from body ache and other ailments which were latter found to be prelude to the deadly irreversible disease which took his life prematurely. But, I grew as a person under him who inspired to think that life goes beyond the textbooks.

I was once the honored guest at lunch of Sarma Sir’s house. Sitting atop a “Pira” ( a low wooden platform) in the kitchen, I savored the Pigeon and Fish curry. My taste buds still feel the tingling of the fish curry with tomato which Sir’s mother served with a big brass spoon.

On the eve of teacher’s day, I wish Dr. Satyendra K Choudhury a long and healthy life and peace for the heavenly soul of Late Dinesh Sarma. Whatever I am today, its all because of many teachers I encountered in my past 39 years of journey.      


(You can contact Kamaljit at kamaljitmedhi1975@gmail.com)