There is a list of ‘Things To Do after Retirement’ hanging somewhere in my mind . Top priority was to meet my old teachers -only a couple of them are alive now- and catch up with my classmates and friends. A way of telling them how much their love and care cemented the basics of my life’s journey. But three years have passed without me doing much about my ‘noble’ plans…..
Then came the Sunday newspaper like a wake up call . From its pages stared the picture of an elderly woman with a mop of white hair, holding a kitten against her cheek. The heading said ‘ On the high land of memories’. I didn’t bother until another small photograph stared at me from a corner- that of a much younger woman with the caption ‘ Parukutty in her younger days ’. Then the chord struck, she is my ‘Chinna teacher’ the commandant of my school NCC ! She has just turned 81 and suddenly people remembered her rare achievement of climbing the 20,600 high Shangri-La peak in the Himalayas along with Tensing in 1963. ‘ Now or never ’, I told myself , got into a bus and headed towards her house.
During the one hour bus ride I went back in times. It was not Chinna teacher’s academic influence that I remembered . In more ways than one she was a role model for students like me. I remembered how she used to cycle down to the school , in her crisp white cotton sari with a thin blue border, (even teachers had t uniforms !), her jet black curly hair tied in a pony tail, a few curls sticking to the nape. She will park the cycle in a corner and almost ‘march’ into class, ‘ chest up, stomach in,left, right,left…’, a true commandant.. She was the ‘man’ of the school. Whenever there is a crisis, an occasional accident, or a child falling ill or the school anniversary, it was she on whom the headmistress relied. Strict and disciplined she was not the mollycoddling type. But when she accompanied us to the NCC camps she will watch over us like a mother hen. Is there a place for people like her in today’s education system?, I wondered.
She was in the veranda waiting for me. (An old friend had informed her about my going to meet her) We hugged each other . Tears welled up in her eyes as she sized me up and down.
"Oh,, your hair has all gone grey ! ”, she sounded a little surprised. Perhaps in her mind I was still that skirt clad young girl of 15 or 16. (I knew exactly how she must have felt as I remembered the twinge I felt when I saw the first strand of white hair in my son’s slightly curly mop. ) We sat down and started chatting . Both of us were excited and a bit nervous. Meeting after a gap of 45 years. Much water had gone under the bridge since then…Where to start ?
I told her about the article in the news paper. She blushed a little and said “ Yeah, I don’t know what this fuss is all about . Anyway……”.
“ Remember ,you were known as the ‘Jhansi ki Rani ?” I teased .
She laughed “ You know how it was then !”
We talked about old times, our school and other teachers. Many were the trials and tribulations of her life. She mentioned about her failed marriage.
" Inever thought you were the marrying type anyway” , I said.
“ I also didn’t think so ”, she said without batting an eyelid. “ But you know how the family pressure works. For once, I listened to them and that was a Himalayan Blunder . You know we should listen only to our heart, never to others.”
“ But you need guts for that ” I said.
For a moment she was thoughtful and then said “ No, not guts. But confidence in yourself. That is what I tried to instill in you girls.”.
I know it only too well. When I was selected to represent Kerala in the Republic day Parade in New Delhi as an NCC cadet, I was ecstatic. My parents, exasperated . They couldn’t dream of sending me alone to a far off place, that too in peak winter. But Chinna teacher stood by me and finally my parents had to give in . For me it was an experience of a life time .
I watched her closely as she made tea for me . Her skin is still flawless, I noticed with some envy. “How much sugar ? ”, her question woke me up from my reverie. “” No, no sugar for me . ”., I said rather sheepishly. She glared at me .
“ What is wrong with you ? Look at me ,no old age baggage, no sugar , no blood pressure”.
“ Even the diseases are scared of you ”, I retorted.
“ Ha , ha , don’t be funny !”, she said with an affectionate knock on my head.
She continued with the saga of her life . How she was almost dismissed from her school for participating in the Quit India Movement rally in 1942 in her home town. How her dream of conquering the Himalayas was shot down by a government ruling that prevented women from joining mountaineering . Her challenges as the Headmistress .Her experiences in other institutions after retirement. About the ‘Dheera Vanitha’ award from the Kerala Government.. It has been a long journey. Yet she is not tired or bitter . Even in the twilight of her life 24 hours is not enough for her. She is busy teaching students English, Hindi, Maths apart from coaching them for competitive exams. Her memory is remarkable . She remembers almost 75 theorems by heart and can reel out dates and events of history. She stays alone but is never lonely. She has 6 kittens and her memories for company. She is now planning a holiday in Singapore with a nephew !
It was time for me to leave . Like all good things of life this also had to come to an end. I went home sending a silent ‘thank u ‘ note to the newspaper which spurred me to make this long overdue visit on a rainy Tuesday morning .
