Drawing Teacher
It was in 1938. I was 9 years when I left the village and my parents and moved to
Mysore to stay with my Grand-Parents, to pursue my studies. I was proud to join
Marimallappa’s Middle School, an imposing stone building with a large compound
with trees and a play-ground.
My Grandfather took me to the head-master, seeking my admission to class- 1
equivalent to present-day 5th standard. Though admissions for the year had
closed, my grandpa persuaded the Headmaster, and I was taken in as a special
case. Grandpa then took me to the class-room and introduced me to the classteacher. He was telling in Kannada “This boy, ‘Seenu’ is new to the city life but he
is good at studies. He is ’sadhu’ ( meaning, a docile boy.) … I was a bit
embarrassed to see a few boys giggling at that expression! The teacher asked me
to sit in the first row so that he may help me to catch up with ‘portions ‘. That
evening, when we were rushing out of the class, Jaggu, the bully of the class in the
last row, came to me and tapping on my back, announced to the class
,mockingly,” This Seena is sadhu, I have 5 cows at home , all sadhu like him !’,
and all the boys laughed. My complexion did not reveal how much I blushed!
Soon I got used to the teasing, and gained friendship of a few intelligent boys. The
teachers were good and considerate. I was enjoying the classes. But at the back of
my mind, my being considered ‘meek’ was bothering me.
We had regular teachers for main subjects like English Kannada History.
But, our PT instructor and Drawing teacher were not of ‘Teachers’ cadre. They
could not speak or write English, and as such, were looked down by regular
teachers. The boys also were less respectful to them.
Our Drawing teacher was a tall man , always in his dhoti and coat and ,be it sun
or rain , always with his umbrella folded and carried on his shoulder like a gun
carried by a soldier .He was allergic to civilities like ‘Good Morning ,sir’
‘Namaskaara sar ’,perhaps due to inferiority complex. His response would be, to
chase the boy away with “Do you make fun of me? I will teach you a lesson” The
boys would run away giggling!
It was a Friday afternoon. I was playing in the grounds with my friend. Soon we
saw our Drawing Teacher passing by. On the spur of moment, I went to him and
said” Namaskaara ,Saar’. He moved on ignoring it. This time, I shouted a bit
loudly in a sing-song way, ‘Good- morning- Sir’, He turned round, casually asked
my name and class. I told. Then his mood changed He moved towards me with his
umbrella lifted, snarling ‘you make fun of me? I will take care of you!’... I ran
away, feeling proud of myself, for my boldness.
Next day was a Saturday, a half day for school. Before my leaving for school, my
Grandpa told me ‘ ‘Sheenu, you have class only up to 1 PM. Today is my father’s
annual ceremony. We are to go to my brother’s house for meals by 1.PM. so I
give a letter to your headmaster, requesting him to permit you to skip the last
period. You come early so that we may go to my brother’s house in time. Do not
come late or waste time, but be early. We are fasting and so, I do not like to keep
others waiting and hungry for our sake.’
‘Annual ceremony’ or Tithi as colloquially called, is a day of remembrance of a
departed person. All near and dear ones assemble, elders perform some rituals. It
is followed by a sumptuous meal with a number of sweets. We Youngsters look
forward to that mouth-watering meal, called ‘Tithi Oota’
I was happy that the last period from 12 noon to 1 PM was the dreaded Drawing
Class and I would be permitted to skip! I was looking forward to a grand ‘ Tithi
oota’.with sweets!
The classes from 9 to 12 noon were uneventful. As the bell rang, I rushed to
Headmaster’s chamber with my grandfather’s ‘leave-letter’. I had to wait for
some time for the Head-master, to return from a class. He read the note, wrote
“permitted’ and signed and gave it to me telling ‘Show it to your teacher and then
go’.
Ten minutes had passed, drawing teacher was already in the class. He was
drawing some sketch on the black- board using his yard-stick. I went to him with
the ‘leave-letter’. He turned round and when he saw it was I, in all civility he said,
‘O, it was you who wished me Good Morning, yesterday! I am greeting you today,
a very good morning’! And the yard-stick landed on me. I yelled in pain. He said
‘Go back to your seat and stand up on the bench till the class is over’. I put forth
the leave letter and said, ‘Sir, HM has permitted me to go home’ He retorted ‘,I
tell you, go and standup. Where had your senses gone when you pulled my leg?’
I had to keep standing in the hot sun till the bell rang. At last, I left the school,
and wearily dragged my feet to reach home. I was hungry, thirsty and tired and
could hardly stand. I was shocked to find the house locked and a note stuck
telling that key was with our neighbor and I should manage with some bread in
the cupboard, and they would be back by3 PM with a tiffin carrier for me.
You can imagine my plight, being denied of Tithi oota, and the scolding I would
be having from grandpa on hearing all the happenings. He categorically said I
would be packed off to my parents if anything like this occurred again.
Net result of all this was, the bully became a little bit considerate, and I did not
hear any boy calling me Saadhu !!
Figure 1Marimallappa's school Mysore-1890
It was in 1938. I was 9 years when I left the village and my parents and moved to
Mysore to stay with my Grand-Parents, to pursue my studies. I was proud to join
Marimallappa’s Middle School, an imposing stone building with a large compound
with trees and a play-ground.
My Grandfather took me to the head-master, seeking my admission to class- 1
equivalent to present-day 5th standard. Though admissions for the year had
closed, my grandpa persuaded the Headmaster, and I was taken in as a special
case. Grandpa then took me to the class-room and introduced me to the classteacher. He was telling in Kannada “This boy, ‘Seenu’ is new to the city life but he
is good at studies. He is ’sadhu’ ( meaning, a docile boy.) … I was a bit
embarrassed to see a few boys giggling at that expression! The teacher asked me
to sit in the first row so that he may help me to catch up with ‘portions ‘. That
evening, when we were rushing out of the class, Jaggu, the bully of the class in the
last row, came to me and tapping on my back, announced to the class
,mockingly,” This Seena is sadhu, I have 5 cows at home , all sadhu like him !’,
and all the boys laughed. My complexion did not reveal how much I blushed!
Soon I got used to the teasing, and gained friendship of a few intelligent boys. The
teachers were good and considerate. I was enjoying the classes. But at the back of
my mind, my being considered ‘meek’ was bothering me.
We had regular teachers for main subjects like English Kannada History.
But, our PT instructor and Drawing teacher were not of ‘Teachers’ cadre. They
could not speak or write English, and as such, were looked down by regular
teachers. The boys also were less respectful to them.
Our Drawing teacher was a tall man , always in his dhoti and coat and ,be it sun
or rain , always with his umbrella folded and carried on his shoulder like a gun
carried by a soldier .He was allergic to civilities like ‘Good Morning ,sir’
‘Namaskaara sar ’,perhaps due to inferiority complex. His response would be, to
chase the boy away with “Do you make fun of me? I will teach you a lesson” The
boys would run away giggling!
It was a Friday afternoon. I was playing in the grounds with my friend. Soon we
saw our Drawing Teacher passing by. On the spur of moment, I went to him and
said” Namaskaara ,Saar’. He moved on ignoring it. This time, I shouted a bit
loudly in a sing-song way, ‘Good- morning- Sir’, He turned round, casually asked
my name and class. I told. Then his mood changed He moved towards me with his
umbrella lifted, snarling ‘you make fun of me? I will take care of you!’... I ran
away, feeling proud of myself, for my boldness.
Next day was a Saturday, a half day for school. Before my leaving for school, my
Grandpa told me ‘ ‘Sheenu, you have class only up to 1 PM. Today is my father’s
annual ceremony. We are to go to my brother’s house for meals by 1.PM. so I
give a letter to your headmaster, requesting him to permit you to skip the last
period. You come early so that we may go to my brother’s house in time. Do not
come late or waste time, but be early. We are fasting and so, I do not like to keep
others waiting and hungry for our sake.’
‘Annual ceremony’ or Tithi as colloquially called, is a day of remembrance of a
departed person. All near and dear ones assemble, elders perform some rituals. It
is followed by a sumptuous meal with a number of sweets. We Youngsters look
forward to that mouth-watering meal, called ‘Tithi Oota’
I was happy that the last period from 12 noon to 1 PM was the dreaded Drawing
Class and I would be permitted to skip! I was looking forward to a grand ‘ Tithi
oota’.with sweets!
The classes from 9 to 12 noon were uneventful. As the bell rang, I rushed to
Headmaster’s chamber with my grandfather’s ‘leave-letter’. I had to wait for
some time for the Head-master, to return from a class. He read the note, wrote
“permitted’ and signed and gave it to me telling ‘Show it to your teacher and then
go’.
Ten minutes had passed, drawing teacher was already in the class. He was
drawing some sketch on the black- board using his yard-stick. I went to him with
the ‘leave-letter’. He turned round and when he saw it was I, in all civility he said,
‘O, it was you who wished me Good Morning, yesterday! I am greeting you today,
a very good morning’! And the yard-stick landed on me. I yelled in pain. He said
‘Go back to your seat and stand up on the bench till the class is over’. I put forth
the leave letter and said, ‘Sir, HM has permitted me to go home’ He retorted ‘,I
tell you, go and standup. Where had your senses gone when you pulled my leg?’
I had to keep standing in the hot sun till the bell rang. At last, I left the school,
and wearily dragged my feet to reach home. I was hungry, thirsty and tired and
could hardly stand. I was shocked to find the house locked and a note stuck
telling that key was with our neighbor and I should manage with some bread in
the cupboard, and they would be back by3 PM with a tiffin carrier for me.
You can imagine my plight, being denied of Tithi oota, and the scolding I would
be having from grandpa on hearing all the happenings. He categorically said I
would be packed off to my parents if anything like this occurred again.
Net result of all this was, the bully became a little bit considerate, and I did not
hear any boy calling me Saadhu !!
Figure 1Marimallappa's school Mysore-1890
