Gurudeva’s Match Eeha Bhatt
Leaving its earthly remains behind my soul soared
straight from Shantiniketan to heaven. Reverred Gurudeva had, during the past six decades, risen several notches up and was now augustly ensconced in the Seat of Judgment there. My soul, quite naturally, felt pretty reassured, even cocky, as it caught a fleeting glint of recognition in Gurudeva’s left eye, which, of course, was closer to it.
But anon a chill sensation crept down my soul’s spine as it noticed a scowl slowly but unmistakably spread over Gurudeva’s otherwise gracious face. His eye bows had risen and fallen several times, snow-white beard was shaking with distinct unease, and his fingers, knotty and wrinkled, were feverishly turning over the pages of my Service-in-Shantiniketan-Book.
“You’ve been a deviant devil of late,” he growled at last as he raised his thick brows up and seized my soul in his full glare. “You’ve stopped demanding your pupils to come in time for your classes, sit upright in neat rows, be particularly attentive to the roll call, respond genially as good pupils should, devote themselves to the class work, articulate their doubts and queries, bring with them appropriate books, notebooks, tools of writing – and thinking.” He was too full for a much needed deep breath.
“Yes, Gurudeva, it has but been so”, my soul managed to mumble, all the time staring at the ground not a few millimetres away from its toes.
“No longer do you get them listen to the recorded models of English speech, recite poems, make arrangements to debate and dramatize textual issues or
situations. No longer do you get them draw sketches and pictures, tables and flow-charts and mind-maps, which illustrate characters, plots, situations. Nor do you keep on to your feet and move around the class providing help where needed. No longer is chalk-dust seen on your hair, clothes, even fingertips. You assign no homework, nor insist on your pupils to hand in their home tasks for correction by the set dates. No effort whatsoever, right from admission to certification, to cultivate excellence! At Visva Bharati!!” He shrieked trembling with exasperation and disbelief.
“That indeed is so, Gurudeva”, my soul breathed in a long, cold sigh.
“No longer do you administer learning exercises with the zeal and earnestness they deserve. You’ve been desecrating the IATs by throwing to the winds all considerations of professionalism, probity and demand for quality performance. And, taking advantage of the rules, you have dissociated yourself from your own pupils’ final evaluation process itself!” His rage was now exploding into innuendoes.
“That I’m afraid I have done, Gurudeva”, my soul slowly swallowed the lump in the throat.
“Well, then,” he pronounced, sighing deeply and shaking his head in utter despair, “I’m left with no option but to condemn and dispatch you forthwith to hell.”
“That’s one thing that Your Excellency couldn’t possibly do,” my soul looked up straight into Gurudeva’s ancient eyes.
“Why?” Gurudeva looked scandalized, “Why can’t I do that?” he demanded.
“For, sure, Your Excellency couldn’t be so unjust as to punish someone twice for a once committed offence. Where else does Your Excellency believe I’ve been all this while?”
------0------