Sarwar Kamal
Bishnu De, my teacher
in primary school, was a source of profound inspiration. He instilled in me a
zest for many things, including knowledge and compassion, through his teaching
and fond behaviour. He was a man of warm voice, manly temperament, fair
appearance and gentle attire.
In late spring, in 1989,
when Krishnachura flowers (Royal poinciana) bloomed in the twigs of the trees
making a flaming shade of red in front of Moheshkhali Model High School, where
chirping birds were in play, and wind breaking tune of tamarisk tree cast an
awesome magical spell on our tender psyche in long lonely day, a scorching sun
was on rise making heat to increase. That was the time when men were few, space
was wide, and so was the field we used to pass, like a green meadow, remarkably
larger than what it is today. Often than not, I relied on my legs and zeal in
that endeavour to reach my school. I would take no umbrella, even in any sultry
day, as it was deemed to be a habit of oldies. The skill that I was adept in,
from my childhood, was walking. So, none bothered in my family if it was hard.
Distance of the primary school from my home was about three kilometers.
Usually, it took only twenty minutes to reach my school by foot, if alternate
route was taken and pace of walking was fast. So, I had to start from home at
least thirty minutes before the class starts.
Once few guests from
far distance came at the time I was to leave for school after I had got my note
books prepared. As I was the only boy to do shopping at groceries and kitchen
market for my family, it was none but me to whom duty was assigned to buy beef
and other necessaries for the guests. Leaving my books, as it was expected, on
the table I left for market. Buying all that items and necessaries and I got
returned, I was contemplating whether I would start for school. It was half
past 10 and expected that the exam had started as scheduled at 10. Though it
had been already half an hour late and more half an hour might take to reach
the hall, I was in a fix to appear in the exam; even if I could it was quite
impossible for me to answer fully. Notwithstanding such a predicament, I left
for school, and running throughout the path I reached by 11am. As soon as I had
stood in front of the door of the class room my teacher, Bishnu De, who had not
distributed questions yet, caught sight of me and advised me to go to the pond
to get an ablution. With irritating sweat in my face and heavy breath induced
from running, I hardly could utter a word of apology for my late appearance.
Getting my face washed and having taken ablution I returned to the hall and
took my seat. My teacher started telling that, till then, he had been waiting
for me, even an hour had lapsed in waiting and making other to wait for, yet he
hadn't asked why I was so late. Rather he was going on to say that he was sure
of my appearance in the exam whatever the uncertainty it attached. I didn’t
learn (still haven’t learned) how to pay gratitude (verbally) in such a
rewarding occasion. He also declared that the best performer would be rewarded
with a pen. It was a three hours long comprehensive exam, covering four
subjects of twenty five marks each. I attended the exam, answered all the
questions.
Like others, I waited
for result, from the next day. But he came not with the result but a page in
his hand, which he displayed in the class, and asked all to follow hand writing
as it was in the page. I saw it was of none but my handwriting, a page torn
apart from my exam scripts. He said, “Look, Sarwar follows me and developed a
lot, writes Bangla in the manner a fruit vendor arrange his oranges to sale,
every letter is round and of same size”. Besides, he praised high of me for
other reasons, of them punctuality and obedience are worth mentioning, to which
he put great importance. He encouraged me in many other ways. Few days later,
there was a football match to be held at the adjacent field of the Moheshkhali
Model High School between the teams of Dulahazara and Boro Moheshkhali, and we
wanted class to be suspended to watch the match. We requested him. He said,
“Ok, write an application for permission to watch a football match”. Though it
hadn’t been taught yet in our class, I wrote an application and he permitted us
to watch the match. It was the first formal application I wrote instantaneously
without knowing how to write, yet it was found to be correct.
There
were some old exam scripts, kept in good array, in our class for display. Those
were of the students who got awarded with scholarships earlier, might be those
were of several batches; still I could remember of some of scripts written by
Amzad Hossain and Pronoto De. I got an idea, observing those scripts, how one
should write if one was to perform better in the exam. I heard after I left the
school, that he used to show my scripts to the students of the next batches.
Once,
on the way to Gorakghata, I was walking with Kajal and Balaka. Kajal, my classmate
was his nephew and Balaka, another classmate was his sister. By the way, Kajal
lamented, ‘look, despite I am his nephew, yet he hasn’t addressed me Baba, but whenever
he used to call you, he fondly addresses you Baba’. Then Balaka supported Kajal’s
claim saying that to be true. For such a revealing comment, I felt sorry for
Kajal, yet I felt loved.
In
1990, I got admitted in Moheshkhali Island High School, and a few months later
I visited him at his house. He was about to sit for lunch, as I was there, he offered
me lunch with eggs of the tortoise. I preferred puffed rice, sweetened, and
savoured some pastries. When result was out and I got scholarship in talent
pool, he had great joy. Many years later, while I was in teaching at Cox’s
Bazar Women’s College, he called me requesting a seat for a girl, who might be his neighbor,
at the college hostel which I ensured.
Teachers
like Bishnu De are rare. He was a complete man, who could instill values and zest
in students. I owe much to my teacher Bishnu De.
Comments