Not far from Shahjehan's Red Fort, and Jagat Talkies, where “Nagin” was swaying to Hemant Kumar's “Been” for over 52 weeks, was our school with a sing-song name: Anglo-Sanskrit Victoria Jubilee Higher Secondary School, Delhi. ASVJ for short.
This great seat of learning was headed by Pandit Ram Nath Ukhal, the principal. He was of Anna Hazare's length and breadth, donned a crisp, snow-white Gandhi cap (part of the school uniform), a tilak, cotton suit with tie and crepe soled shoes which made it easy for him to creep up on us and catch us at whatever we were doing or not doing. The ASVJians called him Mamu. The origin of this sobriquet is shrouded in mystery.
Mamu was fascinated with English language, specially the conjugation of verbs, and we seniors were often put to test without warning. English teacher Banerji was taking us through ‘David Copperfield,' and one morning we were listening raptly to his interpretation of Mr. Micawber's unflinching faith in “Something will turn up” when Mamu suddenly invaded our class to test our conjugation. His first victim was my pal Vyas, future VIPs' pilot. Mamu ordered him to conjugate m ain jaata tha in English. With a lot of stuttering and head shaking, Vyas came up with “I was wenting.” We watched Banerji put his hands to his head and close his eyes.
Vyas' blunder invited the expected wrath. Mamu owned a pair of delicate hands with long fingers. He could transform them into whip cords at will. Vyas' cheeks took a chocolate hue on the impact of the deadly fingers and his cap was grounded. He retrieved it mumbling anti-Mamu slogans. I was a backbencher and Mamu ordered me to translate v oh karta hai . And my reply was “He doze.” Banerji got up and left the class. Down the line, another buddy Sujit, the future Pharaoh of Footwear based in London, was surprisingly let off for translating mujhe maloom nahin into “not knowing,” which Mamu took as a confession.
When Banerji resumed, he skipped Mr. Micawber and introduced us to Uria Heep.
Mamu had this habit of springing out of the earth without notice, and ASVJians beelined for touching his feet to evade the deadly fingers. Aware of Mamu's fondness for warriors, I joined the National Cadet Corps and pleased him with a “butterfly salute.” This was performed by an intense fluttering of the fingers of the right hand before joining them in a crisp salute and shouting ‘Jain Hind, Saar!' Believe me, it made Mamu bare his teeth with pieces of cardamom stuck between his milk teeth.
Morning prayers were a serious affair. Class V stood up front and XI in the last row as Sujit led the choir with Om Jai Jagdish Hare . Mamu used the occasion to check on us surreptitiously. As he prowled down the rows chanting, his one eye watched out for the oily ‘Chotis,' the looped tufts concealed under the cap, dirty collars, things like that. Sometimes, his head would suddenly appear between two boys from behind to check they were not talking from the corner of the mouth. Jai Jagdish! We were never caught in the act because our lookouts at each end of the row signalled Mamu's arrival with an elbow-to-elbow warning.
All this is just one side of the coin. Even half a century later when Sujit, Vyas and I get together we clink our tumblers to the memory of this great pedagogue, who devoted his life to education and discipline. He made men out of us monkeys. He never took even a day's leave except once when Mrs. Ukhal gave birth to a bonny little Mamu in a municipal hospital. His vehicle was the bicycle; he ate simple vegetarian meals and was the first one to arrive at school anyday. He frowned upon teachers making money on tuitions and ordered them to be present in the school to help the students for the finals. For the record, ASVJ had scored 62 per cent success in the Higher Secondary before Mamu took over. This figure jumped to 97 per cent in just two years. We also lifted the inter-school cricket trophy and scored high marks in NCC activities.
I hope our dear Mamu, wherever he is in his reincarnation, can see our three balding heads bow to him with reverence.
(The writer's email id is: jessekochar@gmail.com)
