There is chalkdust on my hands, my black turban has almost
turned white, my eyes are sparkling with a rare joy. I feel like my soul is
overjoyed and recharged with fuel. A silent room has just come to life. I have
just addressed an introductory economics class of twelfth graders at Akal
Academy, Baru Sahib on the topic ‘Mountains and Indifference Curves’.
They have always seen the Indifference Curves flat on the
blackboard or resting still in their textbooks. Suddenly those ICs had come
alive in this class and risen from the blackboard and textbooks to acquire a
three dimensional image. There cannot be a better scenery outside the windows
for this class. They are marvelling at the contour analogy I have just introduced
and fondly looking outside the window panes imagining themselves climbing giant
mountains of utility.
There is a glow in their eyes that I have not seen
elsewhere. It is this eureka moment that keeps returning when they finally
understand something. I feel like I am taking them through a journey from
ignorance to knowledge. I am reminded of my younger self that felt the same
sense of discovery and thrill on learning these concepts and acquiring this understanding.
It is not as if I have stopped acquiring more knowledge now, it is an ongoing
process.
The Principal of Akal Academy at Baru Sahib was kind enough
to let me quench my passion for teaching by allowing me to teach classes of
eleventh and twelfth grade at their school for three days of my visit. Situated
in a picturesque valley amidst the Himalayas, the school has a wonderfully tranquil
air to it.
I was enamoured by their pristine faces. There were trains
of innocent questions that I seemed to have fuelled by telling them that they
have the freedom to ask any question in the world - even the silliest, most
trivial question they can imagine.
‘Miss, why are we studying statistics under economics? Isn’t
that meant to be in our math textbooks?’
‘In reality, how do you calculate arithmetic mean for 5000
students? You can’t be sitting and solving using that formula on the board,
right?’
‘That thing about the marginal and sunk cost – that can’t be
true, right? People don’t think that way – do they?’
Each question had emerged from the depths of their hearts. I
felt like I had just set a million caged parrots free. They had buried these
questions from long and finally liberated them. They energise me as I
imagine myself in their shoes few years back struggling with similar doubts. It
was the struggle with searching for answers that had made me so confident at
the end of my twelfth grade. I answer each question and the glow on their face validates each of my answers, as if.
The bell rings but they don’t want me to leave. They crowd
around and ask me many more questions. The next teacher is waiting at the door
with a rather surprised look.
I took upto 5 classes a day fuelled by their enthusiasm and would
end up with aching legs and a tired throat by night. Strangely, some divine
energy would wake me up afresh each morning as I would plan the lecture in my
head and decide to tell them real life stories that would clarify the economics
concepts.
On the last day, I tell them that I am leaving
on the next day.
‘Miss please stay till weekend. Wish all your plans of going
back tomorrow get cancelled’ - the sweet girl on the first bench quips.
There is something so priceless and beautiful about teaching.
You are connecting to so many hearts by building bridges of knowledge. I stand smiling as the entire class crowds around for
farewell pictures. I wonder if I have just discovered my calling.
*dastaar - turban
*dastaar - turban
