It was the official start of our final year of schooling. Thanks to the generous hand of the transfer students, we had already earned a reputation as an unruly pack of mongrels. We were well aware of the jeopardy that we would land ourselves in, yet we overlooked the need to curb our incessant chattering. Little did we know that we would have to pay a hefty price for all our recklessness, for in came the Destroyer, a man hell bent on bringing us down to our knees.
Life was good at Velammal, but then Mr. Ramesh Babu walked in through the doors.
A grim faced thin man with darkened eye sockets and pronounced cheek bones strode into our classroom. An eerie silence fell upon all of us. The looks of him gave us an escalating sense of foreboding. He started moving around the room, like a ghost in the wind, curiously tailed by our unwavering gazes. A few moments passed by in excruciating silence and finally the man, who gave us the impression of a psycho killer, coughed out his first words to us.
I strained every last muscle in my body trying to put off the impending laughter. Sam and Gowtham's muffled snickering from behind wasn't really helping. The man, with all his belligerent looks, sounded like Alvin and the chipmunks. But thank goodness! Our snorting went unnoticed.
He carried on avidly, describing about himself, about how he is the new Vice Principal of the School and about how he is the worst possible teacher that one could ever have. Just about then, when I was feeling a surge of relief for not having him as my tutor, he informed us that he would be assuming the role of our new Math teacher from that moment on. My heart sank in despair. Having someone as moronic as him for a teacher, I could very well give up my hopes of scoring a centum in Math. By the way he spoke of it; he had no greater knowledge about the subject than I did. I could almost sense that he would put us to ruin. It was by all means inevitable.
I found it hard to digest all these horrendous turn of events, but Sriram wasn't the least bit concerned. Unfortunately for him, he had to face the wrath of the Serpent as a consequence. ‘Dei Dog’ is how Babu addressed him.
We knew we would have to put up with the Snake for an entire year; we embraced ourselves for the rough ride.
Baba was the weirdest of all the Math teachers I've ever had. He would at the very most, solve a single problem each hour. At such a staggering pace, it would've been no surprise if it had taken us seven lifetimes to go through the entire syllabus. Though it was easy to comprehend his teachings, his methodology had me worried sick. He spoke about centums as if they were a stroll in the park. According to him, even a kid could do it, provided it has his tutoring. He looked like a man on a mission, but i just couldn't bring myself to trust him.
Coaching classes weren't really meant to nurture the entire class, but the serpent forced it on us. Of course we were free to walk away, but we knew better not to. His stern gazes warned us of the nightmares that he would bring upon us if we were to bunk them. He made us oblige to his every command. He made us realize that a man in power is capable of doing anything.
Teachings aside, there was a lot of other stuff that Baba did, that helped keep our tongues rolling. Whenever he got too tired of working out math, he would put everything apart and start reminiscing. He would take us back to his time and describe to us what a failure he had been. He almost flunked his high school board exams and in order to save himself and his parents from the shame, he had convinced his family to flee the neighborhood. He had then put all of his thought and actions towards getting into a reputed college. After months of mental strain, his perseverance paid off and he cracked the entrance exams of MIT, chrompet. But once inside, he went astray again. He bunked classes, roamed about town and went to spectate cricket matches when he ought to be preparing for his semesters. His grades were a disaster. He had to watch all his college mates fly away to far off countries, while he was spanning the streets in search for a job. In due time, he realized Teaching is the only choice he had left, but that too didn't come by easily. He had to face harsh criticism at every step, but he started learning from each of them. He had started learning how to survive.
Babu's stories were always interesting, they helped us take our minds off of daily proceedings and more importantly, they reminded us that our lives were only just beginning.
Babu had one simple rule- obey me or be destroyed. Every once in a while he would ask us a simple math question, like 'what is a straight line?’ We would tell him the answers we know, but none of them would gain his approval. He would tell us the description in words of his choice and would order us to write them down a hundred times. It wasn't that stupid a technique; I still remember every imposition he had us do.
We all became regular coaching class students, we attended each and every one of Babu’s classes, except this one time when we took him for granted. But we had to suffer the consequence when we tried to attend the coaching class the following day, he wouldn't let us in. What was worse is that he ordered us to go back home. We would've gladly excercised his command. But we knew Babu had a twisted, conniving mind. If we were to leave, he would take that up as a reason to torment us in the future. In a short while though, he had a change of heart and let us in (phew!).
The extra classes did help us get to know a lot about him. This one time Babu punched Surendher in the chest, who, with moist eyes, went on to describe it as A One-Inch punch. Another time, when Naveen sundhar wronged a problem that was assigned for us, Babu said a legendary phrase that will forever be inscribed in our memory 'Enna da Baadu mathri sum potruka?’ Babu was our hero. But Surendher went on to complain about Babu's atrocity, to his dad, who later gave Babu a visit. Rumour has it that Babu almost peed his pants that day. Another dignitary of the coaching classes was Sriram. In the time it took us to revise both 10 and 6mark problems assigned to us, he would complete one quarter of only the 10 marks. Calling him a slow poke would be an embellishment.
During the special classes, Babu would train us only in a few hand-picked problems. With other teachers usually being the ones to prepare the questionnaire, there was always possibility that those select few question might not feature in the paper. But we had no need to fear. As cunning as he is, Babu would use his authority and modify the paper for us. Other Math tutors started sending forth their students to request us for those select questions. We were free to order them around as we pleased. Babu made us feel like kings and queens.
We were making the usual commotion one afternoon and Muruganantham sir stepped in to shut us up. He gave us the usual piece of advice and then started straying off topic, to Babu. He told us that almost every relative of his perished since the time he joined the school and that Babu hadn't yet been blessed with a child. Not to mention the wad of health issues that had accrued in him. He also quoted Babu saying 'romba kasthama irukku aiyya'. His narration was so saddening that we had to literally blink back tears. Our perspective about Babu changed since that day.
The Board practical exams were being held, and Jayagopal was struggling with his experiment. Babu walked up to him and drew out a small sheet of paper from his top pocket. ‘Enna da, venuma?’ he asked as tried handing over the ‘bit’ to him. I mean who does that? Babu made Jayagopal shit bricks that day.
The Final exam preparations were hectic. We put all our faith in Babu as we started preparing for only those 50 or so problems that he hand-picked for us. If his predictions were to misfire, we would curse him for the rest of our lives. But it didn’t.
Babu is one of those few teachers whom I really respect. He is our Destroyer.
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