I was in class seventh. The place was Munger. My family and I got to live there for around four-five months till I graduated to eight. Well it was a cool place. Ganga flowed 100 metres off our house and the whole city seemed to be in a lullaby after living out a hectic history. So it was literally cool. I had joined the school just after the half-yearlies of seventh and the first few days were tough, adjusting to a new place, coping with a new school, new culture, trying to think of making new friends. This was the first time I figured a school could have curtains on windows.
Things became stable after some time though. It was somewhat enjoyable as I had shifted from ICSE to CBSE. The teachers were good and appreciative. They would go all out praising me and making me feel at home even if I didn't do my best. Except one.
This teacher doubted me.
He came in as a substitute for someone else. Short in height, he still tried creating an imposing figure of himself. After some time he began to give out English exercises on the board. His attitude was that of an average teacher, who thinks no student can outrun his/her wit and intelligence. I have a habit of reading people on first meetings. With teachers, that is easy as you see him/her in action right-away. On preliminary investigations I found this teacher unfit to be consulted, even if I were in a dying position in the event of non-clearance of my doubts.
Fill in the blanks with preposition, wrote he on the board.
Ram writes _____ pencil.
Aah..I thought..perfect !
It is real fun to torment teachers, especially the ones who do it to you , or as in this case, tend to do so. Generally whenever I have debated with teachers, one of the following things happens-
- I get to know that the teacher is not average, but below it. Hence I proceed to demolish his (generally) false pride and give a better future to my class. I am a hero.
- I get to know that the teacher is way better than the average-ness he (generally) projects. This happens very few times, but love it when it does!
- I get to know that the base of my answer was wrong. I understand midway, curse myself and sit down.
I went on the board and wrote "in". This was a chance to calculate my popularity in the class. And the risks were low, the third option above stood removed. A moment of silence followed. Hysteria.
The teacher dismissed me as a knows-nothing boy, taking the chalk away. The audience was amazed. Some of them whispered in to help, shaking their heads in disbelief on how I could not use "with" instead of "in". Time froze. Now started the last part of my act.
Defiance. I stood like Mirabai did when her faith in Krishna was questioned by her father-in-law. I had chosen Krishna and not the Sun God. The teacher was startled like the father-in-law. I waited for his jaw to drop. Instead, he became a Mirabai, too. He dismissed me repeatedly. I went on to provide theoretic and senseful explanations. He mocked me. I stood there. He called the toppers for consult. I took out my popularity meter.
The toppers were skeptical, confused. Just like Mira's mother-in-law. One of them admitted of having no idea. My meter soared. It sent a wave of excitement among the crowd. My classmates were in total awe by now. Was their whole life a lie?
But the teacher went on. He didn't compromise. I came back to my seat without convincing him. I lost the battle to think of winning the war.
Yes that's the moral..I got it huh ..after writing so long...the moral I found of the story--
Always lose the battle to think of winning the war.
One more thing. I have to find a way of using lesser words than I do. Its irritable. And they should be understandable.