The English Teacher

Now, many of you must be wondering that I am going to write a story. Well, this time I deviate and decide to just pen down my random thoughts in this blog of mine.

I have had the best English teachers ever, well that should be since I studied in a Convent and a teacher teaching English in a Convent school definitely must be exceptional, out of the box. Yes, I vividly remember the first time I fell in love with the language was when our very strict (that was our assumption then, since we couldn't master English grammar and was scared that she might ask us questions and we would be embarrassed before the class) Miss Monica (well she was a Mrs, but we Convent going girls were taught to address everyone irrespective of their marital status as Miss) started teaching us English in Grade 9. I was awestruck at the manner she explained the chapters and made grammar lessons at ease for us. I still remember she always used to wear light coloured floral printed sarees which made her look pretty, yet she was a minimalist with just a ring (plain band) in her finger and a black watch. She wore pearl studs and a chain. Somehow, I felt so inspired by her that I began imitating her style. Floral light coloured dresses and tiny earring. I didn't even realise that two beautiful years passed by in a whiff. 

Soon, I joined college- a girls college again ( I studied in a Girl's convent school). This time it was just not one English teacher but a whole lot of charming, beautiful, impressive young women who kept up with the latest fashion. The classes by one of the most inspiring young Professors Mrs Shrutimala Duara was one which I always waited for, I was always awestruck by the way she carried herself. The grace and the aura she radiated was unmatchable. Colour coordinated nail paints in those sleek tender manicured fingers, those unique fine pieces of silver, blackmetal or gold jewellery, the drapes of her sarees ( which were never repeated) and obviously the way she expressed her thoughts in the class made me her biggest fan. I loved the manner she recited poetry and the explanation was just mind blowing. Another charming personality was Aditi Choudhary Ma'am. She was another graceful lady who stuck to her silks always, not a fashionista. Yet, the grace with which she carried herself made her stand out of the box. That warm smile and the calm and composed nature of her's generated motherly feelings for her, and yes a warm, kind mother she was to all of us. Her explanation of 'The Merchant of Venice' is still intact in my mind. Oh how I loved watching those pearly teeth of her drawing notes against the trademark chocolaty maroon lipstick of her's. Her equally talented best half Ranjit Choudhary Sir was no less, though a chain smoker, he would keep aside his packets in the class. His explanation of Christopher Marlowe's Dr Faustus was mind-blowing. Somehow both the characters of Faustus and Mephistopheles were brought to life by Sir's extraordinary explanations.

How can I forget the then HoD of English at my Alma Mater- Geeta Baruah Ma'am? Well I was always at awe at her usage of varied synonyms for a particular little word. I would be wondering what would be the next new word I would learn from her. That big bindi and her versatile nature of her's made her stand out in the crowd. I loved her more so for her explanation of drama. Hamlet, Mcbeth..the list is endless. My love for literature developed from these powerful people around us, guiding us, being the beacon of sunlight in our lives. To taking us for those play reading sessions, drama workshops, plays, poetry reading sessions. I owe every little thing to these wonderful teachers of mine. They loved me with all their hearts and blessed me always for I was one of those creative souls of 'Bohemian Souls'. Our wall magazines stood apart just like we all in the Department.

This ode is just a small write up. There are a lot many teachers whose contribution I can't forget. I would be sharing another part of it some other day. Thank you my angels.