Forget those Mams & Sirs! You Can't!

Some of my Mams and Sirs!

By: Rajbir Deswal
Miss. Sandhu, a judge’s sister—I thought I had a crush on her in my 1st standard.
Mrs. Narang—she taught us Punjabi. I remember her Uda, Aida, Eedie!!!
Mrs.Kahsyap—the way she conducted and carried herself! Moving encyclopaedia of social studies!
Mrs.Single—my bad English cannot be blamed on her for she had the Wren & Martin in her blood . I only tasted her kindliness.
Mrs.Prabha—physically challenged but was fairly intimidating as the Principal. Only saving grace—her son, Sunny (a little slow witted than me) studied with me. And ate all the rusks in the school shop. DRY.
Mrs.Bhatnagar—she was always motherlike and doubled as music teacher since she could play on the harmonium. Had seven daughters!
Ganga and Kala Maais had us in spins but we had great respect for them for they at times addressed us as betas and betis and also touched us unlike the teachers.Ganga Maai often helped us change our costumes including knickers on School functions.
Mr. Bishan Dass—taught us Maths. He had all his formulae in his pugree—yes Dr. Radha Krishan types.
Mr. Malhotra’s Geography( his carriage included!) covered only a little more than Patiala from where he used to get telegrams ‘to reach home’ urgently!
Mother Superior—yes that’s how we knew her appellation. What name she was called by, not to be asked. (Probably Sr. Casoria!)
Sister Valentine—taught us Shakespeare. And almost enacted the Bard. She never gave me a beating since I posted a letter (on a sly!) given to me by her, meant for someone I don’t know, but she knew.
Sister Regula—Kristen, a Polish, roly-poly son of a scientist called her ‘Rasgulla’ for she was very sweet at the age of about 60 then.

Sister Rosali(As late as in 1194)--I always asked her if she had her BP and Sugar levels under control and she would always laugh it away with the serousness of a stoic. She took us to the Convent on Christmas and made us eat the best cake ever!
Mr. Saini—O’ my God! He came on a ladies cycle and looked like Jitender just walking out of Ashoka Talkies after doing his Jeene Ki Raah! Must have been a beau model for nearly half a dozen generations of our Convent.
Mr. Soni—his shouting capabilities disturbed all the molecules in his Lab.
Mr. Ram Singh—Ruby had the guts to tell him on being caught by her flowing locks—Excuse me Sir, I ‘ve come of age! And he dealt with her more severely.
Mr. Dixit—whose daughter Dr. Alka met me sometime back. He used to be a Colossus of Political Science. And the way he could refer to Mrs. Gandhi in those days was his forte only—as a teacher.
Mr. Sharma—he always asked me to mimic Dev Anand.
Mr. Brij Bihari—then, and even today having pink cheeks, taught us more about the style of Dilip Kumar and less of History.
Mr.Rana Pratap Gannauri—one of the most celebrated poets had his Masters in three languages.
Mr.Chawla—an Oxonian, would out of a class of fifty, catch only one student’s eyeballs and ‘pilao’ him or her, the entire lecture on Chaucer. He called nightingale –Nikh-tin-gala, as was prevalent in 14th Century.
Mr. Ashq—spoke chaste English while his Urdu lined him up with titans. The way he could prolong the seduction scene by Lady Booby in Henry Fielding’s Joseph Andrews was his ‘personal’ art!
Mr. Rattan—all feared he might call his wife too—Beta! Girls nearly swooned seeing him.
Mr. Sushil—a perfect gentleman who had to talk about Mephistopheles all the time.
Mr. Kalia—his Linguists could never make the ‘Aindees’ tell an ‘S’ from an ‘Esh’ or ‘ev’ from ‘Oph’! After thirty years, I received a letter from him appreciating my middle-writing. And in his own beautiful hand.
Mr.Grewal—simplest of them all who had Shakespeare dance for him. And Dr. Faustus turn his head away from ‘Sweet Helen...!’ to listen to him.
Mr.Dahiya—the American accent suited him as naturally as his being a local did not. His ladder through ‘The Birches’ has all the steps to climb in praise of him. Unfortunately he was attacked in his office and we rushed to PGI to see him there. He became and MLA and a VC too.
Mr. Ahuja—who can say he knows that Law is an ass!
Ka Naa Subramanyam—my mentor in Journalism and a great friend of Khushwant Singh referred me to Anees Jung of Youth Times to fear a woman journalist for all my life.
Mr.Sethi—he taught me to be ‘workably honest’!
Mr.Vasudeva—had more ‘practical knowledge’ than red corpuscles in his blood.
Mr. Koshy—I started mistaking me for a teacher with his lessons to me. He is my student now since—he has retired.
MY HEAD BOWS BEFORE YOU ALL! IN REVERENCE AND IN OBEISANCE.