On the recently passed Teachers’ Day, just before dinner,
I dialed my teacher’s phone number. The phone was unanswered. I occupied my
seat at the dining table with my eyes making a shift towards the cell-phone
frequently – expecting a callback. My dining colleagues asked me why i was
calling a teacher who had taught me over twenty years ago.
I retorted, “This
is a modest way to pay tributes to the numerous days/events/things and people
who have taught me lessons of life. Merely anyone who gives tutorials in a formal
environment is not a teacher alone; on the contrary, every moment which inspires
you with deeds or didactics is a teacher.”
“Why so many
things when we have Google?” I was questioned.
Alas! i wished that they knew that a chasm lay wide
agape between wisdom and information. Pensively looking at the cell-phone –
eyes and ears impatient to get a ring on the phone – i chewed a few emotions
along with the bite. Indebted to every instant of history, i narrated an
experience when i was handling channel partners
of our fuel stations.
With a task to improve sales, I thought of visiting our upcountry
Retail Outlets during dusk hours. I reached a dimly lit outlet. The customer
service attendants were not in uniform. They did not recognize me as I had
taken over the assignment a few days ago. I enquired about sales, lighting and
uniform. Apparently puzzled, they asked me whether I needed petrol or diesel.
Skipping the answer, I cleverly asked about sales and products available. They
were equally smart in evading the questions.
Disclosing my identity, I added authority to my questions. The attendants,
surprisingly, were unfazed. The only reply they gave was “Ask Sardarji”
referring to the outlet dealer sitting in the salesroom. I moved into the
salesroom, introduced myself and greeted the gentleman – an elderly Sikh, about
70 years, white beard and sharp turban – sitting on an old wooden chair,
perhaps more aged than the gentleman himself!
He acknowledged my greetings and offered me a chair without uttering a
word, while remaining busy in scribbling something on a paper. I flooded him
with a flurry of questions. His authorship seemed steadfast as he continued
writing uninterruptedly. His silence loaded me with confusion - was he ignoring
me or insulting me? I was still pondering when he finished his writing and
stood up (I also stood) to pass on to me the paper. It was an apology letter for
the fact that his service attendants were not in uniform and that the outlet was
poorly illuminated. The letter also carried his promise for improvement.
The action left me bewildered. I asked him that we had not even conversed
yet he had written the apology. He politely told me that he had been doing this
every time the previous officer-in- charges would come to his outlet. “They”,
he said, “only found mistakes here. I am used to this now.”
I was rendered speechless. Mustering some courage, I changed the topic
and enquired after his family and the aged wooden chair! My query was a
catalyst. A saga unfolded, through his words.
The outlet sales
had dipped after his young son - sitting at this very chair - was shot dead by
separatist militants .He tearfully narrated the whole story and I gathered strands
of strength and emotion from this septuagenarian. He was operating the outlet
as a custodian to pass on to his grandchildren their deceased father’s legacy! He
was an epitome of vim and vigor. We made several reciprocal discoveries
thereafter; he earned some tips on sales from me and i learnt my lessons of energy
from this suffered yet unshaken soul!
Sipping a glass of water, i floored an open
question on the dining table, “Would you not
call this as a great teaching moment? Should i deprive this gentleman’s credo of
being called a towering inspiration? Should i not remember all such occasions
and organisms everyday as an ode to the life’s ways of teaching?”
Some silent moments…..
I continued, “Do
you not feel that every such being and bit breeds edification of each one of us?
While every moment is a teacher, is today not the commemorative occasion to show
deference to indomitable human spirit and ability of siphoning off and sharing wisdom
out of anything – gentle or grave? Despite abundance of information today, shall
we continue being students submitting to the sanity of a few? Or shall we become
human islands not respecting any relationship of mutual learning?”
Before anyone spoke, the cell-phone rang; my
teacher had called back! All eyes were open in disbelief thinking of the questions
of probity raised.
Perhaps, a few had been answered by this callback!
Guru is a Hindi word referring to teacher.
