Schooled in the lap of nature, full of sincerity, enthusiasm

Spice of Life: Big boys never carried anything to school. Most of the times, they helped the teacher in controlling the class

“Those who have not done their homework, stand in a line, please.” This was the opening dialogue in our class daily. More than half the class would queue up with hands outstretched. The teacher would survey the length of the line and decide to delegate the job. The job was to whack each hand once with a rod. It was to honour the boys who had not done their homework.

Winters were fun. Classes could be held under the sun, wherever the teacher deemed fit. For summer, big shady trees were earmarked for different classes by default. (Representative photo)

The teacher called to the fore the big boy of the class and personally whacked his hands. Then the rod was handed over to the boy to do the needful for rest of the defaulters.

I studied in a school in the hinterland of Punjab in the ’70s. We grew up literally in the lap of nature. Students were introduced to nature right from the day of admission. Every student was supposed to plant a tree along the walls or in the partition of vast grounds, whatever variety, and nurture it till the time he left school. For want of classrooms, a majority of classes were held under trees. Thus, planting a tree was more like planting a classroom for future students.

Winters were fun. Classes could be held under the sun, wherever the teacher deemed fit. For summer, big shady trees were earmarked for different classes by default. “Go and leave this chair under the Class 6 tree,” our teacher would direct the peon.

Students were there in all shapes, sizes and ages. It was a boys’ school. Age was no criteria for any class. In Class 1, we had boys who should have been in Class 10, going by their age. But no one seemed to mind. Students, teachers and parents were cool, as long as the boy was attending school.

No classrooms meant no chairs or benches for students. We were supposed to carry our own rugs to sit on. Big boys never carried anything to school. Most of the times, they helped the teacher in controlling the class. If they needed to sit, they would grab the rug from boys like me. Despite carrying the rug from home, I would be sitting on the ground. That is how the meek inherit the earth, I guess.

It was more of physical education than a cerebral one. We spent more time on the school grounds rather than in classrooms under the tree. There was no official gardener, it was simply not possible for a single person to look after the vast grounds and plantation. So, every class was allocated a stretch of ground for its maintenance. We were happy doing that, as it was more fun than learning mathematics or science. We would water the plants, mow the grass, and take out weeds.

There were no organised tournaments at that time. But it was normal for a hockey or kabaddi team from another school to come visiting. Sometimes, it was a planned event and sometimes unannounced. It would bring a festival like atmosphere to the school. The visiting team would be accompanied by their own supporters and the ambience would be charged with slogans and cat calls.

The school taught me discipline in a practical way. It brought me closer to nature. It made a team player out of me. It taught me techniques of survival. We were not supposed to complain to parents about the whacking we got. Parents believed in teachers and left it to them to make men out of us boys. Though schools lacked in infrastructure and teaching aids but there was sincerity in abundance and enthusiasm all around.

I’m happy that my schooling laid a solid foundation for me and helped me progress in life. gsbattu@gmail.com

The writer is a Patiala-based freelance contributor