The early 1990s. A small town in central India.
It was pre-social media times which means the information overflow and the fancy terms (with their twisted, misleading pseudo definitions) had not yet percolated through our childhoods. I do not remember reading or hearing the phrase “feminism” during my school years. And mind you, I read a lot of India Todays, Readers Digests, and other such magazines. I do not think our beloved Doordarshan could have thought of using the term in any of its bulletins. Interestingly, the TV serials it aired were knowingly or unknowingly too feminist and too ahead of its times. Think of Udaan, Saans, Shanti, Tara….such bold portrayals of women. Anyway, I tend to digress.
The point is that during those times, you didn't choose to be a feminist and definitely didn't make “posts” out of it. You were a feminist or you were not. Both unknowingly. And I was lucky to have been surrounded by people (both men and women) who were true feminists, mostly unknowingly.
Sharad Ghokale was my maths teacher. Not in school because my famous convent school refused to have maths classes for students who had maths as an elective in Class 11 and 12. Which meant, we were at the mercy of private tuition and self-study. I thank my stars for having found Gokhale Sir.
Gokhale Sir taught Maths, and some physics too but his first love was Maths. He had worked in a factory earlier but quit sometime in his mid-40s because his rebellious personality was not fit for that mundane factory job. Then came a short school teaching stint but I guess he wasn't made for a job. He was made to teach and make our lives better.
He loved maths and he loved teaching. He taught from 6 AM in the morning till 11 AM. Then took a break for a few hours and came back to the class at 3:30 PM and stayed there till almost 9PM every day. The batches ran one after the other and then some ex-students and parents were always waiting to speak with him during the change of the batch. No, you could not speak with him during the classes. You had to wait.
Oh, and when I say classes or batches, do not think of those fancy classes with ACs and digital screens like the ones you have these days. This was a small room in a rented apartment on the top floor of a residential building. There were eight long benches, four on each side. And it was always packed. Gokhale with a cigarette in his hand, almost always, cracked jokes while he taught.
Sharad Gokhale had to have strong views on almost everything and he never hesitated to share his views:
Filmfare ( a famous Bollywood periodical) had glossy pages but our study books are printed on third-grade paper and you still ask why our education system is not able to produce geniuses.
You want your students to become doctors and engineers but you do not want to pay the teachers who will help them achieve this.
Why is teaching your last choice? When you don't get any other job you think of teaching (as a job). Why can't you have it as your first choice?
If you want to drive (this was especially for the girls), learn the change the spark plug first. Don't ask for help only because you are a girl.
He was proud of his Doctor wife and never failed to confess that she ran the finances of the house. “I know Maths but she is way better at finances. I am learning from her”, he always said. Not a lot of "Kabir Singhs" will be able to say that even today.
I met Gokhale Sir a couple of years back. He had had a couple of heart surgeries by then and looked frail. But the enthusiasm was top-notch. He could hardly walk but he was still teaching.
“I want to write a maths book. And I am going to use glossy paper to print it and give it for free to my students here”, he said, followed by his signature throaty laugh.
“You should take a break now sir. You have done enough”, I tried.
He went silent and took a pause. “I will die if I stop teaching, Deepali.” Yes, he said that in those exact words.
Gokhale Sir lives in his students' hearts not just as a teacher but also as a mentor. A “Guru”, in the truest sense.
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