Teacher's Day

This blog is dedicated to all my students for their love and affection.

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It was just a chance that after I delivered my speech as the chief guest for a pharmacy week function at a local college, I was requested to tutor the management students. I was never a teacher in my life and wasn’t sure to accept the offer. Back home my wife was excited at the offer and the director of the institute was very persistent. I gave a serious thought and finally gave my consent for various reasons; one of them was the inspiration that I derived from my father’s action.

It was way back in year 2000. That evening after giving my consent I rushed to nearest book store, we just had one in Vashi in those days. Went through couple of books and wondered is this what I would like to read and teach? The crumpled copy of the university syllabus that I had said ‘yes’ but my heart said ‘no’. I thought I would rather share my experiences of over three decades of corporate world with the students rather than teaching theory from the books. I returned home empty handed but with lots of thoughts in my mind. That evening I sat down with a notebook and pen, and started writing my experiences that would explain management theory to the students. I had a dial up connection for internet that made me struggle to get some latest information from the net at a miserably slow speed. Over next two or three days I was ready with my first lecture. I went to the only stationary shop in Nerul bought few acetate sheets and marker pens to make my first OHP slides. I don’t think I had ever made such slides in the past, my secretarial team and co-workers managed this for me. Where to start and how to start was a question. Few sheets got wasted, yet I kept trying till I was satisfied. Finally the day of first lecture arrived, I was standing in front of nearly fifty students of MMS third semester. OHP, black board and, few chalks were in place. It was a different experience. The audience or participants were so different than what I used to have in the corporate world. I started carefully keeping a watchful eye on the audience. I could notice a flicker of interest in the eyes of the students and that was what I was looking forward to. I kept on going, at time using the chalk to explain on the board. I enjoyed the first session. During the break few students gathered around and we had some chat. This enforced my observation that the students are interested in my lecture. And if that is so then it is my responsibility to meet their expectations. I was in a different world when I drove back home.

I started enjoying my sessions. It was fun and very interesting. The interaction with young aspiring students kept me charged. The semester ended after twelve sessions. After the last lecture we had a photo session, some students made me write some message for them on their note books and I returned home with heavy heart and bouquet of roses.

In due course of time the next semester started, then the next year and then another year and then another institute and it goes on. OHP is a history, LCDs came in, ppt was the order of the day was replaced by pptx. PCs were replaced by laptops, that got replaced by netbooks and now tablets. I was enjoying. I got more and more involved. I had a different sense of satisfaction each day when I retired for the day. All these years I learnt that to be a good teacher, I need to be a good learner. I was learning each day and that made me a good teacher (if I can say so). Today with over 10,000 students from different institutes, over a decade, I have a great sense of accomplishment, the one that I was looking forward to, knowingly or unknowingly, over the years.

I still remember all my teachers, all those who taught me. Being a good learner I learnt even when the person I was interacting was not my teacher. One such incidence gave me inspiration and that made me a teacher. It’s old story that is still fresh in my mind. One day I was to travel to Pune as a young executive, when my father desired that he would like to accompany me. He was old and a trip to Pune was not as comfortable as it is today. He told me that he was keen to meet someone by name Mr. Watchmaker. I took him to Pune. We searched for Mr. Watchmakers’s place and reached there without giving any intimation (telephone was a luxury in those days). It was a typical Parsi home and someone answered the bell. We announced the purpose of our visit. The person led us to a spacious well-kept drawing hall. In one corner an old frail figure was sitting in a wheel chair that was Mr. Watchmker. He was over ninety at that time. I looked at my father who was over seventy five, his eyes sparkled. He sprinted towards Mr. Watchmaker took his hand fondly in his own, shook gently and bent down to touch his feet. Mr. Watchmaker stared at my father and before he would ask any questions my father said, B M Pandit, Sir, your BA final year student in 1918 at Robertson College. For a moment Mr. Watchmaker looked blank, soon his eyes glittered, became moist. He held my father’s hands as firmly as he could. I too bent down to pay respects to teacher of my first teacher, that’s my father.  The reunion took place after over fifty five years. My father always cherished the teachings that he had from his teacher. That incidence gave me an inspiration to be a teacher sometime in life and that is what I am today. I may not reach that height but let me try.

God bless you and best luck. Do well in life.