rgurus
Active member
A never ending experience:
In one of those good old days, as I was walking along in the government estate near Rajaji hall, I heard a voice from behind calling "Sir, Sir". I was very sure that it must be the voice of a beggar seeking alms from someone behind me. Unmindful of the hoarse voice, I was just walking fast towards the then MPSC (Madras Public Service Commision) Office. But the voice didn't seem to die down and was following me like a shadow. I was pretty sure that it must be one of those modern mendicants trying to present a story of woes about himself and about his family, being decently employed in an Institution of standing who had lost his bulky purse and how he had been left in the lurch most unexpectedly and was not able to go back to his house to see his most beloved wife and children and how he had been struggling for a decent meal for the past one and a half days. By addressing people as Sirs or madams, such people draw their respectful attention and derive sympathy with their pedagogic approach just to extract money from the passers by with a promise that the money given to them would be returned the minute they reached their native place by telegraphic money order (common in those days), giving their address (always fictitious) as a proof of the genuineness of their case. All that melodrama would be done in such a convincing manner that you would be moved to the extent of even going out of the way to beg or borrow money from one of your friends to help the desperate person, with the fond hope of getting back the money in the next two or three days, but ultimately only to get dejected and disappointed to know that you had been taken for a fool. Quite a number of times I had been caught unawares and got caught into their trap and so I decided not to play a fool this time and not to pay heed to the voice nor to look back to see who was following me because that would embolden him to approach me with greater confidence than before and corner me and that might result in the transfer of a few rupees from my pocket to his basket. So I continued to walk faster to give an indication to him that I didn't like his following me and I was avoiding me. But the voice was also getting louder and louder, nearer and nearer, giving me a clear indication that he was also correspondingly increasing his pace. I was almost at the point of running when he virtually overtook me and stood before me blocking my passage. Though annoyed, I didn't have the discourtesy to chuck him out of my way and before I could ask him as to what was he up to, he stopped me from proceeding further and asked me, " Sir, don't you recognise me?". I was taken by surprise by his question, because I was quite sure that no beggar would ask such a question except while approaching his own fraternity. Probably had he mistaken me to be one among his fraternity? Before I could open my mouth and get into further trouble, he said," Sir, I am your old student".
I couldn't remember whether he was my old student or a young student, but looked very young indeed and when I came back from my senses I told him, " Sorry, my friend. I am not able to place you. That is the difficulty with most of us teachers." Then he introduced himself by telling his name which I forgot the minute he told it, talked casually about where he was working and how much respect he had for me and how good I was in teaching and as a teacher and so on, a rare gesture from a student to get. I felt very sorry and ashamed within myself for having mistaken a good student (!) of mine for a mendicant but thanked him for all the good words that he had told about me which was and is usually unusual from a student and with a sense of guilt I took leave of him or to put it rightly, permitted him to take leave of me. This guilty feeling of having equated a good old student of mine to a beggar made me go sleepless for a few days and I decided that hereafter I shouldn't jump to conclusions arbitrarily and it was better to err on the safe side in future. ( continued)
In one of those good old days, as I was walking along in the government estate near Rajaji hall, I heard a voice from behind calling "Sir, Sir". I was very sure that it must be the voice of a beggar seeking alms from someone behind me. Unmindful of the hoarse voice, I was just walking fast towards the then MPSC (Madras Public Service Commision) Office. But the voice didn't seem to die down and was following me like a shadow. I was pretty sure that it must be one of those modern mendicants trying to present a story of woes about himself and about his family, being decently employed in an Institution of standing who had lost his bulky purse and how he had been left in the lurch most unexpectedly and was not able to go back to his house to see his most beloved wife and children and how he had been struggling for a decent meal for the past one and a half days. By addressing people as Sirs or madams, such people draw their respectful attention and derive sympathy with their pedagogic approach just to extract money from the passers by with a promise that the money given to them would be returned the minute they reached their native place by telegraphic money order (common in those days), giving their address (always fictitious) as a proof of the genuineness of their case. All that melodrama would be done in such a convincing manner that you would be moved to the extent of even going out of the way to beg or borrow money from one of your friends to help the desperate person, with the fond hope of getting back the money in the next two or three days, but ultimately only to get dejected and disappointed to know that you had been taken for a fool. Quite a number of times I had been caught unawares and got caught into their trap and so I decided not to play a fool this time and not to pay heed to the voice nor to look back to see who was following me because that would embolden him to approach me with greater confidence than before and corner me and that might result in the transfer of a few rupees from my pocket to his basket. So I continued to walk faster to give an indication to him that I didn't like his following me and I was avoiding me. But the voice was also getting louder and louder, nearer and nearer, giving me a clear indication that he was also correspondingly increasing his pace. I was almost at the point of running when he virtually overtook me and stood before me blocking my passage. Though annoyed, I didn't have the discourtesy to chuck him out of my way and before I could ask him as to what was he up to, he stopped me from proceeding further and asked me, " Sir, don't you recognise me?". I was taken by surprise by his question, because I was quite sure that no beggar would ask such a question except while approaching his own fraternity. Probably had he mistaken me to be one among his fraternity? Before I could open my mouth and get into further trouble, he said," Sir, I am your old student".
I couldn't remember whether he was my old student or a young student, but looked very young indeed and when I came back from my senses I told him, " Sorry, my friend. I am not able to place you. That is the difficulty with most of us teachers." Then he introduced himself by telling his name which I forgot the minute he told it, talked casually about where he was working and how much respect he had for me and how good I was in teaching and as a teacher and so on, a rare gesture from a student to get. I felt very sorry and ashamed within myself for having mistaken a good student (!) of mine for a mendicant but thanked him for all the good words that he had told about me which was and is usually unusual from a student and with a sense of guilt I took leave of him or to put it rightly, permitted him to take leave of me. This guilty feeling of having equated a good old student of mine to a beggar made me go sleepless for a few days and I decided that hereafter I shouldn't jump to conclusions arbitrarily and it was better to err on the safe side in future. ( continued)
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