Fingers Crossed!

I have done it again! I have dunked all my knotty fingers in all the scrumptious pies around me! I am nose deep in work and adore every moment!

I love to teach, I love the language an\d I love the students whom I teach. They fascinate me. I enjoy talking to them, listening to them and understanding them as enthusiastic members of the human race.

For 3 months every year, I teach administrative officers at the HIPA (Haryana Institute of Public Administration). They are mainly police officers and each batch of officers is sharper, better read and more versatile than the other. I am amazed at their keen sense of humour, their humility and forthrightness.

“More classes of French? Surely not!”, I exclaimed in my last class. “You are essentially police officers, not students of French!”

“Even police officers have high sensibilities, ma’am!” retorted my student, IPS officer Imran, rather dryly.

I couldn’t hide my smile which was lurking naughtily at the corner of my mouth. I am overjoyed as any other teacher would be. The students are thirsty! How good is that!

Each time that I walk into the immensely imposing auditorium, I find my group of young officers patiently seated, waiting for their short, flat-heeled, sari-clad, silver-haired French teacher. The sight fills me with warmth and I am ready to do better than my best.

As I brandish out my pen drive and try to retrieve the ppt presentations, I have eager students and technicians at my elbow, all ready to help. I give up with a sense of relief. My pen drive connected, I begin my lesson. In a few moments I notice that, along with my students, I have the technicians seated at the back of the class, intently listening to what I say!

These intelligent officers enjoy discussing books, films, music and a host of other things. They strive to read and speak French as smoothly as a native. I am humbled at their desire, their effort and their gracious behaviour.

While I am ecstatic every moment of the sixty minutes that I teach, as I pack up my computer at the end of each class, I am left with a sense of utter confusion. Would these sharp, witty yet polite officers who impress me each day, transform themselves into lethargic, pot-bellied officers, slumped at their desks, all gruff and grumpy in the years to come? I cannot visualize it, though I know of it.

In the thorny path of life, would these starry-eyed young officers stumble and fall? How many of them would rise from their fall? How many of them would lose themselves on the way?

My students are fine officers and gentlemen. If they can hold their heads high what a fear-free nation we would live in!

I can do little else than keep my fingers crossed.