That day, Sir John saved me from rustication!

I cannot have fond memories of St. Xavier's School, Burdwan without lovingly recollecting the time spent with the doting Sir John. He was always the sane voice even when others fumed. His love for his students was without any inhibition and unconditional. He loved my imitation of his nasal tone (especially the way he used to pronounce 'mug-neyyyyyyy-sim') and used to plant one of his famous pinches every time I used to mimic him.

There was only once when he had hit me and then moments later broke down in front of the entire class. I think he was in a bad mood that day, which itself was very rare. I was in class nine and one of his favourite students, though I was never the class topper. He was our class teacher, if I remember correctly. I had this bad habit of seating in the class with my legs jutting out sideways on the aisle between the two rows. He had warned me a couple of times in the preceding weeks about that. Obviously, he would have received some complaints from other teachers. That particular day I committed the same mistake. John Sir used to walk around the class as he taught us. As he was passing by the aisle, my outstretched legs tripped him, nearly making him fall. In one moment he was out of the class. Even before I could realise what happened, he was back with a huge stick and started beating me up. That was some beating. For the next couple of minutes the classroom reverberated with only the swoosh of the stick and the smack of it landing on my skin. When it stopped, I could hardly stand, having nearly blacked out. Moments later, I saw him near the blackboard shouting at me and then breaking down. He was hysterical and utterly upset about the incident. He looked at me and said to this effect: "I never want to beat you people. Why do you force me to do this? I hate doing this". With that he started walking towards me. I stood there petrified, wondering what would happen next. What happened next is what John Sir is all about. He came and gave me a warm hug as tears kept rolling down his cheeks. He dissolved the class and took me to the staff room and applied Dettol and Boroline on the wounds inflicted. That was Sir John for you, our beloved Chemistry teacher!

But this was not the day when he saved me from certain rustication. That happened a year later, when I was in class ten, few weeks away from my ICSE exam.

Sir Nabi (sadly, he is no more) was our geography teacher. He had a rather dull method of teaching an interesting subject like geography. I was very good at geography and loved the subject. Once before our ICSE finals, I was even made to take a geography class for my classmates, when Nabi Sir was absent! That was a high. Some weeks before our ICSE exam, in one of the Geography class, Nabi Sir was revising some chapter and discussing answers. On one particular answer, I differed with Nabi Sir. I kept insisting I had the correct answer and I got into an argument with him. Confidence gave way to teenage arrogance and rightfully Nabi Sir did not appreciate it. The altercation became heated and in the end he threw me out of the class. But before doing that, in a typical Nabi Sir manner, he humiliated me in front of the class rather badly.

The ego of a class ten student was too big to take in the humiliation of being seen punished, standing outside the class, by the junior students. The hurt was even more when you consider that ours was a co-ed school! That feeling lead me to plotting a revenge. Two decades later, with the benefit of hindsight, I wonder at myself and my stupidity of even having thought of a revenge! I am such a changed person now. But then again, maybe these experiences have made me into a better person that I am today. It didn't take many minutes for Sandip(Sinha) to walk out of the class on a forced pee-break. He was my alter-ego, the evil-twin at school. He felt the ignominy as much as i did. I knew we had to plot. As we walked down the staircase to reach the washroom at the ground floor, we saw Nabi Sir's scooter parked below the porch just outside the Chemistry lab. Those days Nabi Sir was the only one to own a scooter, a Bajaj Priya. On some telepathic spark, we looked at each other and both of us had an evil smile to share! The next couple of minutes were spent to work out the details. I went back and stood outside the class, contended that I will have my revenge in a couple of hours! Sandip went back to the class to rope in Indranil(Karmakar), the third member of the mischevious triad we formed at school.

The first period after lunch was Chemistry practical class. As the Chemistry practical class started, we (Sandip, Indranil & myself) took seats far away from the window that overlooked the porch where Nabi Sir's scooter was parked. We actually took the farthest seats. Once experiments were allocated, we were required to collect the materials required for the experiments from the store keeper by signing a register. We asked John Sir, rather innocuously to give us some experiments which involved HCL or H2SO4 (I don't remember exactly which one was that, but pretty sure, it was one of the two). Combining the share of the three of us, we had a beaker full of acid, in its concentrated form. Once everyone got busy with their experiments, John Sir as usual walked upstairs to the staff-room. The store-keeper was busy inside the store room, least attentive to what went outside. That was the time we were waiting for. We sneaked out quietly, taking care to hide the small beaker, reaching the closed collapsible gate round the corner of the wall. On the other side of the collapsible gate was Nabi Sir's scooter. If one stood in front of the collapsible gate one could not be seen from the other classes as the giant pillars formed a natural obstruction at that obtuse angle. And on either side of the gate was open ground, where no one would be there at that hour. We just needed to finish the job in double quick time as anyone coming down the stairs could see us from the landing itself.

All that separated us from the scooter was thin air - it was easy to reach the scooter through the gaps of the collapsible gate. At first we poured a small amount of the acid on the front seat. Lo and behold! in a jiffy the seat had a gaping hole! We looked at each other wearing a wicked smile on our face. We started pouring acid at random and soon the seat had holes all over! Next we targeted the pillion seat. In no time, it had the same appearance. There was hardly anything left of the seats except the coiled springs. Even the springs had a badly corroded look. It is as if someone had scooped out the seats with some sharp rounded object! By then strong pungent smell started filling the place up. We realised that it was time to go. As we turned to head back to the lab, I could not resist the urge to turn back and pour the rest of the acid on the stepney! Phew! in a moment, a large chunk of the tyre was eaten up. The wire mesh of the tyre lay exposed giving it a scary skeletal look! The satisfaction on our faces said it all! We stepped back into the lab as quietly as we had stepped out.


We spent the next two periods in a restless state, wondering if the act had been noticed. But the quietness suggested that it had gone unnoticed till then. As we walked down the stairs at the end of the class hours to head for the field for the games period, we stole a glance of the scooter. There, it lay, unattended wearing a bony look. It was midway through the games period we spotted the commotion near the scooter. There was a large crowd of students and teachers. We knew that that was the moment of truth, we had been eagerly waiting for. We rushed across to the spot, wearing as bemused an expression as anyone else on the crowd. Dutta Sir, the games teacher, Ashish Sir, the Maths teacher and Felix Sir, the English teacher followed us. They used to play with us during the games period. There was Nabi Sir, standing by the scooter, distraught and seething in anger. He was in an animated discussion with John Sir. It turned out that some girl student noticed the problem (the girls' throw-ball courts were by the porch, where the scooter was kept parked) and reported it to Nabi Sir, who came rushing down. In no time, Father Foshow, our Headmaster was at the spot inspecting the damage. There was no trace of the acid in the air, so no one was able to figure the problem out. Except one person. He was Sir John.

The moment Sir John noticed us, he signalled us to follow him. As we stepped aside on to the corridor, he told us bluntly: "I know you three have done this. That's why you asked for the acid. Now tell me why did you do this". To John Sir, we could hardly lie. We saw Ashish Sir walking towards us. He would have seen us stepping aside and knew something was wrong. He was our guardian angel - for the three of us that is. Most of the times, he knew about our pranks in advance. That way, he was prepared to help us out in times of trouble. We had a special relationship with him, something more than a usual teacher-student rapport. As we blurted out the reason for our stupid action, both John Sir and Ashish Sir wore a startled look. They were angry and smiling at the same time. The whole idea made them laugh, but the thought of what happened to one of their colleagues did not put them at comfort. They told us bluntly that what we did was grossly wrong. John Sir even told us that if we get caught, we would get rusticated without a question. That would mean missing the ICSE exam. That was the first time we felt scared! The prospect of missing ICSE had never occurred to us before. We started fearing the worst. Both John Sir & Ashish Sir noticed the change in our appearance. They asked us to get back to the field as they headed back to join Nabi Sir. 

As time wore by, the final bell rang and we headed for the bus. Indranil and me travelled in the same bus along with Ashish Sir. Sandip travelled with John Sir in the same bus. We gathered that no one could figure out how it happened. Nabi Sir was outraged, to say the least. He mentioned to Father Foshow the need to institute an inquiry and punishing the culprits in the harshest manner. To that Father Foshow quipped that it would be rustication. As we gathered at Ashish Sir's place in the evening (we used to take private tuitions from him), we started discussing the possibilities. We had started worrying after hearing about rustication. That was never budgeted! John Sir was our best hope, if we got into trouble. So off we went to John Sir's house, a twenty minutes cycle ride away. At John Sir's house, we got the reprimand we deserved. He told us that Father Foshow has called for a Teachers' meeting the next morning to discuss the subject. John Sir was furious with us. If it was not for the impending ICSE exam, he would have told the truth to Father Foshow. In the end, the John Sir he was, he told Ashish Sir the need to protect our career. He feared that knowing how headstrong Father Foshow was, the truth can lead to our rustication.

We stepped into the school the next morning with trepidation. At the assembly, Father Foshow was furious. He spared no words and was categorical that whoever was found guilty, would be rusticated. That sent a chill down our spine. The only thing that cooled us down was the fact that till then no one had figured out who did it. Or how did that happen. And the only two people who knew about the truth decided to keep quiet, for our sake, keeping our careers in mind. Obviously they did not like doing what they did, especially since it affected one of their own. We felt turbulence inside all the while when the Teachers' meeting was on. It was a long half-hour. We were antsy to meet John Sir & Ashish Sir as soon as they stepped out of the meeting. But better sense prevailed and we waited till lunch time. They said all the teachers unanimously agreed to rustication for the guilty. A committee was instituted to investigate the matter. But beyond that no one in the meeting had an idea about what happened. Or for that matter who could have done it. When Nabi Sir was asked if he suspected anyone, he drew a blank. Though at second guess he mentioned that it had to be someone from the senior classes. To our advantage, there were a number of pranksters in classes eight, nine and ten.

The committee hadn't made any progress in their investigation. They hit a dead end without any clue, whatsoever. The committee questioned a lot of students, including us. The pranksters in the school were well known. But this time, the finesse with which the prank was done left everyone clueless. In the meantime we received our ICSE exam admission cards. With that we knew the danger had passed away. Even if we were to get caught now, no one could prevent us from taking the exam. But it was a close shave. Much later, after the exams got over, we did hear murmurs that Nabi Sir suspected us. He had opined in the staff room that the act required daring and clever minds; and that he could think no one else other than the three of us who could have possibly pulled it off. He said that he did not have the proof, but in his heart he knew it was us. During our farewell, Nabi Sir did ask us about our involvement in the incident. And he said that he was just curious to know and that he meant no harm. Especially, since we were essentially out of school, beyond his reach. But we kept a straight face and denied without hesitation. We had to protect the honour of the two men who saved us from surefire rustication. Till this day, no one else knows the truth. Of the five men who knew about it, John Sir and Sandip are no more. I have taken the liberty to write this piece without seeking consent form Ashish Sir or Indranil. This is my tribute to John Sir, who I will always love from the bottom of my heart. He braved torrential rain to attend my marriage reception, blessing us with all his love. He became fond of my half-malayali wife, never failing to ask about her whenever we met up. Kerala was still close to his heart, even though he spent almost all his life in suburban bengal. I used to visit him whenever I was in Burdwan. I met him last a few months before an untimely heart attack stole him away. I was far away in Bangalore, when the news of his demise came in. Time didn't allow me to become a pallbearer for him, a regret I will carry with me till my end.

Follow my blog to read about Sandip, the best friend who I lost to an accident. That is another loss I am yet to come to terms with.