Hemantha Kalam - 66 'Learnings of a teacher'

Sometime during 1984, when I was specialising in Materials Management by taking lessons in the evenings from University of Madras, India, my professor in management Dr. Jaigopal asked me to take a class for the rest of my classmates and explain to them the management aspects practiced at my work place. At the end, not only did my classmates, but also my professor appreciated my session. That became my first lesson to teach and the seed was sown for my teaching.

Then, in 2002, I had an opportunity to address, in a class room mode, the general and senior managers across the country of the security department of Reserve Bank of India, on the importance of having electronic surveillance fixed at vantage positions of the branches of the bank. That session was loved by all the participants as also by my boss.

It was like GOD beckoning and bequeathing me with an option of teaching! Having been born into that class of people in India, whose profession and dharma was to learn and teach, I am happy that at the dusk of my life I am getting an opportunity to do exactly the same – assimilate and disseminate knowledge. From 2006, there has been no looking back and today over 60% of my professional time is spent on teaching various aspects; out of knowledge and experience gathered over four decades and no need to emphasise, I am quite passionate about that. Teach'em a lesson, wilya? :-)

So, in the middle of 2019, when a meeting was arranged between the director of a business school associated with an age old highly reputed educational institution and myself, I did not hesitate much to accept the opportunity provided by him to teach. It was an institution where I failed to get an admission for my college education some five decades ago, due to their high and ‘my poor’ standards. Apart from being proud, I also felt it paradoxical that today they are asking me to impart lessons on an important subject in that very institution.

I am to take five sessions of Law on Corporate Social Responsibility (CSR), on Saturdays, across four hours for each session making the total course 20 hours, preparation time another twenty 20 hours, travel time (the place took a commute of about 45 minutes each way) about 8 hours, question paper setting for an interim exam and a final exam, evaluating answer papers of the students who took the exams, all put together, worked out to about 80 hours of work.

With a lot of excitement I went to the first class 10 minutes ahead of time, sacrificing my morning sleep. It was the first time that I was stepping on to the campus and I was awestruck for the neatly maintained colonial buildings and the gardens in the campus. And then I began waiting. Students started sauntering into the class after about 30 minutes. The coming in continued till the first break which was two hours after the starting of the class. At the end of any day, the students were never more than 10 in the class, while I was given to understand that the total enrollment were 24 students.

So the classes limped and in between an interim exam was conducted. Interestingly I found, from the papers sent to me for evaluation, that several students cheated by copying from my presentations. So while announcing the results, I succinctly put forward that CSR Managers are to be highly ethical and such behaviour is not acceptable. They (well, whoever was present in the class on that day), all nodded.

The final exam was to be conducted in the month of March 2020 and thanks to the continuous lock-down due to COVID-19 (Corona Virus), the exam got postponed several times and finally the institution felt that the exams will have to be conducted  online and from the students’ homes/hostels/premises.

Question paper would be mailed to students’ email IDs and the exam would have to be taken within 2 hours and written answer sheets to be scanned and mailed within 30 minutes after the end of the specific examination, to the institution.

After the exam was over, the institution mailed me the papers in a zipped file, for evaluation. This came along with a roster, where the names of all the 24 students enrolled for the programme were let known to me for the first time after my completing my part. I noted that 22 students took the exam and two were absent for this too. There were so many names to which I could not put a face to. Rank new names were there.

The papers gave me a ringside view of how ingenious our dear students are.

There was one student who wrote sentences that went from 0 to 150 degrees and I have to incline and recline my neck to read through, developing a neck pain while I am already suffering from spondylitis.

Having once been bitten by the copycats, this time I had set questions in a jumbled manner so that they will need to take time to search for answers while copying. But then, such gimmicks would be easily tackled by my dear students. They, apparently, kept all my PPT presentations in a chronological order and searched for questions based on the presentations and answered in a jumbled manner. Now it became a task for me to find the keys while evaluating. And I thought, what a smart alec I was. How naïve and innocent I could be?

The question paper had two sections. The simple questions fetching two marks each were 10 and all 10 needed to be answered. The second part needed some writing as each question fetched them 16 marks (Institution’s standard). So a choice of taking in five out of a total seven questions was given.

Many students smartly tackled the big ones first and attempted the easier ones later.

After going through two or three answer papers, I could notice a pattern emerging. Excepting for three or four students all the rest virtually copied word to word, comma to comma whatever was given in the presentations, leaving me in a predicament to disallow or allow. If I disallow it would tantamount to saying that my own answers were not correct. If I allow, almost everyone was getting a ‘E’ or ‘D’. Rank new comers, unknown to me and those who never attended even one of my classes could  also get an ‘E’ or a ‘D’.

Ironically, those who really tried to write on their own could get only ‘A+’ or ‘A’. And then there were those dolts who could not even copy properly or in time.

I strongly suspect that all or some of the participating students must have, conveniently, fixed a Google Duo or Zoom or such app for a meeting among themselves and comfortably discussed the answers. Some answer papers were so identical to each other, even in the sequence of the question/answer numbers.

There were those smarter guys who attempted only those questions that could make them pass and took it easy for the rest.

Finally, at the end of the exercise, I noted that almost all not only passed but with flying colours. It also left me with a few questions.

1) If getting all the students just pass is the intention, why waste time in all this farce? Certificates could have been simply given off making every one’s life that much easier. After all, it is a known fact that many would not remember this skill and anyway they would be invoking that all pervasive new god ‘Google’ for every one of their needs.

2) The students are of mixed nature whose age must be ranging from the early twenties to late forties. While some of them are fresh students just out of college or still in college but doing the course for an additional qualification, there also are several working executives. Sadly the copying was more intensive among the executives. Now CSR is also about business ethics. If the students themselves are not ethical, what ethics are they going to practice at work or insist with implementing partners?

The Hindus believe that the time of the earth has been measured in terms of four Yugas, each signified by the amount of Dharma (loosely can be interpreted as justice; at least for this blog’s purpose) prevalent in that time. The first one was Kruta Yuga or Satya Yuga where dharma was 100%. Then came Tretaa Yuga where dharma was 75%. This was followed by Dwaapara Yuga where dharma was 50%. Now, the present time is supposed to be Kali Yuga where only 25% dharma is supposed to be prevalent.

So, this is how it is going to be? If so, am I right in conceding to teaching to follow my intended professional dharma?

What do you think? Pray, tell me!

So long until the next one! 

Krutagjnatalu (Telugu), Nanri (Tamil), Dhanyavaadagalu (Kannada), Nanni (Malayalam), Dhanyavaad (Hindi), Dhanyosmi (Sanskrit), Thanks (English), Dhonyavaad (Bangla), Dhanyabad (Oriya), Gracias (Spanish), Grazie (Italian), Danke Schon (Deutsche), Merci (French), Obrigado (Portuguese), Shukraan (Arabic), Shukriya (Urdu), Bohoma Sthuthiyi (Sinhalese) Aw-koon (Khmer), Kawp Jai Lhai Lhai (Laotian), Kob Kun Krab (Thai),Asante (Kiswahili), Maraming Salamat sa Lahat (Pinoy-Tagalog-Filipino), Tack (Swedish), Fa'afetai (Samoan), Terima Kasih (Bahasa Indonesian) and Tenkyu (Tok Pisin of Papua New Guinea).

Hemantha Kumar Pamarthy

Chennai, India

Hemantha Kalam - 65 "This day That year"

My parents truly wanted an independent life – independent of paying monthly house rentals, debts and loans and thus equated monthly instalments (EMIs). Having virtually started from scratch and zero money in my father’s pockets, it was not an easy dream to be realised.

They worked hard, practiced thrift and saved every paisa, they could. It was just the three of us at that time, as my siblings were not born yet.

Since 1965, my father was on the lookout for buying some empty plots affordable for him. Apartments were almost unknown then, in Chennai (then Madras). We visited Singaperumal Koil (where 2,400 sq ft of land or one ground was costing a mere Rs.40), then Pallavaram, at the foot of Tirusulam hills where one ground cost Rs.200 and in Saligramam where one ground of plot with a fruit bearing mango tree was costing Rs.3,000. Both Singaperumal Koil and Pallavaram plots were not considered as they were way too far for my school and my father almost settled to buy the Saligramam plot. This plot was owned by some eight family members who apparently had several differences of opinion on the disposal of the plot. Meantime, the Kodambakkam rail over bridge (ROB) was inaugurated and like magic, the rates of plots zoomed up and the plot owners said that they were not selling the plot.

Sometime during 1966, one of our close family friends, dear Devendranath uncle (since demised) came home and told my father that there was a new layout being made out, in a nice coconut grove, on the border between Vadapalani and Saligramam and the quality of land is good.

In those days, buying land for investment was hardly known to normal people. Every one saved desperately to own and construct a home in a plot. One Mr. Dharani Singh Gramani (since demised) had eleven and half acres of coconut grove with about 1,000 coconut trees and which was developed into a layout of 92 plots with each plot being a minimum of one ground. Each plot got anything between six to eight yielding coconut trees (out of those 1,000 trees, today you can hardly see trees in double digits in the entire colony - so much for civilisation and development). However, since the grove was grown for tapping toddy, it took about two years thence for yielding coconuts. Nice roads of a minimum 30 feet wide were allotted. One afternoon we went and saw the plot and my father liked to book a North-East corner plot. We got eight coconut trees for our share.

 

The layout was made and plots were sold by one RMC Traders whose office was located opposite to today’s Vadapalani Police Station. I distinctly remember our visiting the place and booking the plot by giving a token advance of some Rs.250 or so. This was sometime in the end of 1966.

Immediately, my father took us all to Hotel Udupi Ganesh Bhavan, a few meters away, which was actually a restaurant with some tables in a hall and some tables under the trees in the yard. We had some light snacks and coffee as a celebration.

Those days, that was the only restaurant in Vadapalani, after which another one could have been found only at Porur or Poondamalli. Because Vadapalani depot, about a kilo meter away from our plot, was being just constructed and all buses, except three, used to terminate at Vadapalani Murugan’s temple and return. From there, the nearby villages of Saligramam and Virugambakkam can be reached by only a single horse drawn vehicle called ‘Jutka’. Places like Valasaravakkam, Porur were from the other world. The three buses that went beyond Vadapalani were 17 B to Maangaadu, 63 to Poondamalli or Tiruverkadu (I don’t remember it for certain) and 88 to Kundrathur.

The next few months were occupied in putting together the rest of the money needed for the plot, getting it registered (those days the registration was done with utmost courtesy) and my father now started working towards saving and putting together money for a decent hut (cottage to say it respectfully) to be put up in the plot.

But when compared to the costs of a hut, which required regular maintenance and also taking the safety aspects into consideration, it was decided by my parents that they will build a simple home of two rooms with asbestos sheets for roof. They consulted Vaastu Sastra (the knowledge of which spilled over to me too and making me a bit proficient in the subject) and decided on where and how the house will be located and what the elevation facing would be (It was decided to be East facing). Then they approached late Ramchandra Rao Sajip (R. R. Sajip, since demised), a Konkani speaking architecture professor in Guindy Engineering College (I think) and asked for his advice. He was kind enough to design and make a plan for a simple two roomed house.

I think RMC Traders, who sold the plot to us suggested a contractor to undertake the construction for us. My father, though was not qualified, was a great materials manager and a resource person (I am a qualified materials manager and considered to be good at negotiations but to date, could never negotiate a single thing for my advantage). He has decided to go for second hand (used and removed from some dismantled house) teak doors and windows and after making a thorough search identified a supplier for four doors and for windows for the house.

The contractor was Mr. Krishnan (since demised) who actually graduated to be a contractor from being a mason. He used to ride a Jawa motorcycle and ever since, I always wanted to own and ride a Jawa motorcycle a desire for some reason or other I could not succeed in fulfilling, till date.

The construction work began and almost every evening, after my school closed, my mother and I used to walk from our home in T. Nagar to the bus stop which was called the ‘Maattu Aasupathri Stop’ (Animal Hospital stop near today’s Valluvar Kottam) and get one of the three buses that came first and which would drop us near AVM Film studios. From there, we used to walk on the Arunachalam Road (hardly eight or 10 feet wide road topped with asphalt/tar) and crossing the farms and mango groves of the film mogul L. V. Prasad we used to reach our plot. Except for a rare passing Jutka or a car to or from a film studio (there were three studios then but now only one is limping), the road was mostly uninhabited. But those village scenes were so beautiful when compared to the present day’s developed ugliness. People also have become more self centered and cunning compared to the naiveté and innocence of the villagers then.

We used to supervise the construction and for daily updates chat with Mr. Sengeni (since demised), whom we had temporarily hired for a monthly salary of Rs.40, and accommodated as a live-in Watchman to take care of the bricks, blue metal, sand and cement and later the woodwork and the steel to be used for the construction.

As I was involved in the construction of our house, right from the point of buying the plot till construction, I have had the total hands-on experience of house construction. I was just above 10 years of age then. This experience came in handy later, when my parents started expanding the house and I lent a hand right from digging foundations to buying raw material and supervising the daily construction etc.

Finally, the house was completed to a level where the insides and the front and backside of the exterior were plastered and white washed. On 15^th April, 1967, we had had our simple ‘gruha pravesam’ (house warming) celebrated. One of my grand uncles then remarked to my father that he (my father) was rather foolish to construct a house in such a wilderness and how that is going to adversely affect his son’s (mine) education and other prospects. True to his averment, living there became fun and risky too. There were quite a few snakes, no electricity for a year and I had to study in hurricane lantern’s light and so on (another blog on this later, perhaps).

After finishing some balance construction work, we occupied the house on the 30^th April, 1967 for good. After this, my parents never again had occasion to stay in any rented houses. Both my parents thus successfully fulfilled one of their major dreams.

When we were constructing, there were five or six houses in Kumaran Colony and just one house, neighbouring ours, in our own colony and we were the second to construct a house in the colony. The previous house here was constructed by late N. R. Rao who retired as a stenographer from a multinational publishing house in Chennai and constructed a two tenement house in his plot with his retirement money. They were originally from Triplicane in Chennai and all their relatives were there only. Since, we were to occupy our house on the 30^th April (1967) and they had a function to do on the 1^st May, they locked their house and went to Triplicane.

As scheduled, we arrived on 30^th April, in a truck carrying our meager household material that included a steel cupboard, a Philips table radio and a Kassel’s table fan, three foldable camp cots, bedding material and a few clothes. My father and mother sat in the cabin of the truck and I stood in the carriage space along with the packers and loaders. Though I was quite scared, while doing so, I enjoyed the drive too which was so novel. Now I lost count as to how many times I rode in trucks, in all formats, in my life so far. In fact, I learnt driving on a 6 tonner truck.

After settling down, we were tired and fell asleep. One most important thing was that as the layout was new and the nearest electric power pole was quite far, we didn’t have electricity. So we ate our supper quickly and being tired of packing and unpacking, slept off fast and sound.

The next morning, my mother woke up first, and looked around through the window and found our neighbour’s back door, looking on to our house was wide open. There was a tin box that was thrown open and many papers including documents and registration papers strewn around were flying about. My mother woke my father and asked him to check whether the old couple returned back and when my father wanted to enter their house through the gate he found the main door open with a broken lock and bolt. He could make out that the house was actually burgled.

When there is no power itself, there is no question of having a telephone in the vicinity. My father quickly finished his ablutions, had a cup of coffee and pedalled to the nearest police station, in Vadapalani. Meantime, a few people, passing by on the way to their work, in the nearby film studios, stopped to find what all the commotion was about.

A guy who was doing his morning ‘business’ in the fields, about half a kilometre away came and showed us a small metal alarm clock saying that as he squatted down to attend to his ‘business’, the alarm started ringing in the open field and he was startled, to say the least. It was hilarious and having imagined his plight I couldn’t hold back my laughter. Having seen some commotion yonder, he brought it to us to check what is happening.

During all this, my father reached the police station, only to be told by the police there that it is not their jurisdiction and asked my father to go to Maduravoyal police station. My father had to find his way about and got to Maduravoyal police station. There too, initially they were reluctant to take cognizance of such a ‘petty crime’ but when my father informed them for whom he was working (would be vice president of India), they relented and sent a constable with my father. The constable came and went around the house with my father tagging as a witness and found the house in turmoil with everything pulled apart including mattresses and pillows.

We did not know how to reach the old couple and conveyed the message to the gentleman’s office from where he retired from and sometime in the afternoon they came home. By evening we came to know that the damage was minimal with some small amount of cash and some petty material was lost. The old lady was smart enough to bundle all jewels and hide the bundle within the charcoal sack which the thief didn’t touch.

For a long time there was speculation that it must have been the work of some local fellow, who knew the old people’s movements well. But, to date, the case remains unsolved.

But, for us, it was a traumatic day. The happiness of coming to our own house vapourised, leaving my mother petrified and later she hardly left the house over a dozen occasions in all these 53 years of our staying in that home. She gave up shopping totally and never watched a movie in a theater thereafter. She stuck to good old home.

Over the years we developed the house and made many changes to what it is today. Yet, the dates of 30^th April and 1^st May became forever etched in our minds and lives.

So long until the next one! 

Krutagjnatalu (Telugu), Nanri (Tamil), Dhanyavaadagalu (Kannada), Nanni (Malayalam), Dhanyavaad (Hindi), Dhanyosmi (Sanskrit), Thanks (English), Dhonyavaad (Bangla), Dhanyabad (Oriya), Gracias (Spanish), Grazie (Italian), Danke Schon (Deutsche), Merci (French), Obrigado (Portuguese), Shukraan (Arabic), Shukriya (Urdu), Bohoma Sthuthiyi (Sinhalese) Aw-koon (Khmer), Kawp Jai Lhai Lhai (Laotian), Kob Kun Krab (Thai),Asante (Kiswahili), Maraming Salamat sa Lahat (Pinoy-Tagalog-Filipino), Tack (Swedish), Fa'afetai (Samoan), Terima Kasih (Bahasa Indonesian) and Tenkyu (Tok Pisin of Papua New Guinea).

Hemantha Kumar Pamarthy

Chennai, India