Maybe I dont have Writers Block after all!
I thought my receptors were clogged and new ideas just werent seeping in. Thats why, I couldnt write anything new. So what? I could still use my stale, yet recycled for the times, pieces. Besides, I want to see how they look in a web page! :-)
Anyways, I just thought I should put in a little something about Sam sir, my Mentor ever since I came to know of him.
WHAT SAM SIR TAUGHT ME
Bushy black hair, a moustache-beard set that always tickled his nose. His attire makes one feel that there is something terribly wrong with his taste for clothes. These were the main features that made Mr. Samuel Alexander Korah, or our Sam sir, stand out. His profession? He taught English for the crucial tenth grade in an Indian school in Kuwait. Sam sir’s almost effeminate hands have guided me until today; from the first day I met him.
The ‘first day’ is worth a mention, really.
The first day in class ten. We were anxious to know who would teach us what. That is when Sam sir entered the class, dressed in black from head to toe. He introduced himself as, “welcome to hell and I am your devil!” but in the months to come we realized that ‘hell’ was thoroughly enjoyable and that the ‘devil’s’ classes were thought provoking and reflective.
Sam sir was also a journalist working for a local daily and he always emphasized on effective communication. He made us think and forced out short stories and poems from his students. (I have written 2 unprintable poems under his threat!) Being a young person, he was more of a friend to us. Sam sir always ‘understood’.
Humour was always part of him. Once he told us to make a farewell card for one of our classmates who would be leaving the school. But only later did he know that the boy had changed his mind. Our class had already made a very sentimental card, which sir quietly accepted. A few days later, we came to know the whereabouts of that card with 35 signatures on it – securely pasted above the flush in Sam sir’s toilet. The magnificent card read, ‘adieu, dear friend, we will miss you…’!
He had different ideas in everything he had to deal with. The most peculiar punishments were meted out to those who failed to bring their books to class. We were made to count the total number of tiles on the school corridor floor, run through all the floors of the school in less than ten minutes, do push-ups, mimic a weightlifter without any weights to lift, and so on.
Sam sir strongly believed in encouraging extra curricular activities even though the BIG BOARDS were just round the corner. Many teachers were against the idea. To prove his point, he presented a fancy dress show with all 35 of us as a ‘dustbin’, a ‘flower’ or a ‘sign-board’. Depicting a neighbourhood park.
Towards the end of the year, Sam sir made a short trip to Canada. On returning, he distributed biscuits of maple leaf syrup and some colourful wooden beads. These were parting gifts. He was leaving our school to go off to Canada. I have cherished my little bead. It reminds me of what Sam sir taught me. It reminds me to keep my identity – in writing and in living life; to be confident to face life wherever I am; and above all, it reminds me of Sam sir – who helped me say, ‘I’ll try’.
N.B.: Sam sir is in Canada, and in the process of touching hundreds of student lives, in his own unique way.