Piloting A Flying Pen

 

 

I am often ridiculed by my friends for talking silly matters while they discuss serious things like melting polar ice cap, rising sea level or holes in the ozone layer. I could never convince them that what they brand silly are not so for me.

The latest in the series occurred on August 7, 2021 when Neeraj Chopra became the first Indian to win a Gold medal for India in athletics. When his spear flew in space a distance of 87.58 meters to land on gold I too was among those exhilarated Indians who jumped from their seats and danced. But as is my wont, my memories flew back in time, fifty years to be precise, and landed in our 10^th standard class room.

We all were a happy lot with whatever little we had. We never had branded pens or branded notebooks. My pen was a local product by the name Chandrika. I had no count of the number of pores through which it leaked. The only solace was that it leaked only while writing. Notebooks were not available in the market then. A month or so before the reopening of schools in June, an old man known as Binder Kutty Chettan would visit all houses in our village and collect the list of notebooks needed. He used to make notebooks for all of us. We never had complaints regarding the quality of a product as we had never seen anything better. If the eraser seldom erased anything, we still were happy.

One morning when I stepped into the classroom I found all the boys of the class crowded around an otherwise unassuming Radhakrishnan Nair whom we affectionately called Radha. I crept through the crowd and was amused to see Radha writing with something I couldn’t believe was a pen. “Japan Pilot”, someone whispered into my ear. The next sight was overwhelming. An Oxford Geometry box! Radha’s father had come home from England the previous day and gifted all these to him. We all felt like ordinary mortals before this wonder boy. But Radha sat there with unusual humility as if telling us, “don’t worry boys, I am still your old Radha and will remain so”.

Radha remained true to his words - polite, humble and loving. But within a week, without losing these virtues, Radha started showing magic with his Japan Pilot pen. This part of the story, none including my children has believed. My children kept saying that this is another of my fabricated stories. I will not blame these non-believers.

When teachers dictated notes, all of us except Radha struggled to keep pace with the dictation. Alongside taking down the notes, we had to manage our leaking pens which was an arduous task. But for Radha with his super smooth, non-leaking, robust Japan Pilot, it was just fun. When the teacher stopped dictating after a paragraph or two for explanations we all would be engaged in cleaning our profusely leaking pens. What Radha did was the most unbelievable feat of all. He would throw the pen without its cap like a javelin. While athletes threw it to the skies, Radha threw it on to the wooden desk. The pen with its strong sharp nib would make a perfect landing piercing the wood and remain there. When the teacher again started dictating, Radha would pull out the pen in style and write as if nothing had happened. This incident never left me and after all these years I can excuse myself for feeling jealous of Radha. And I can forgive all those non-believers too. After all, can any sensible person believe this?

 

Prof P T John

1991. If I remember correctly, March 31^st. 3.45 pm. I am very sure about the time. I and my senior colleague Easow Mohan Sir were walking from the CMS college office to the Physics department. Nearing room number 65-B (the BSc final year class), pointing to the room Easow Mohan Sir “that man is retiring in fifteen minutes”. P T John Sir taught till the last moment of his career. This he did when he could have availed one year leave due to him before retirement. 

In fifteen minutes he came to the department were we were waiting with mixed feelings. But he was there as if nothing special had happened. For him a teacher teaching, be it in his first class or in the last class after guiding generations of students, was not anything special. This is a regal attitude indeed. I was reminded of a statement by Manzoor Ali Khan Pataudi as the captain of the Indian cricket team. Once during a press conference someone asked him why he did not appreciate his team mate after he took a difficult diving catch during a crucial test match. With his characteristic serious look of the Nawab, he replied, “that was what for which I had deputed him at that position and I made no mistake”. “Epitome of arrogance”, we may say. But the message should not be missed. As the head of the department of Physics, P T John Sir never appreciated anyone for doing one’s duty, but I am witness to his being very harsh with people for dereliction of duty. His unreserved and unrestrained words and his rage on such occasions were unbelievable. Many of us had thought that he could have  been a little softer. But then, pretensions and diplomacy were too alien to his persona.

I have heard that during his younger days he used to come to the college in white and white attire. I have often thought what a fantastic look it would have been for such a handsome young man to be in white and white. No wonder he was the heartthrob of the campus. Beyond the uncompromising teacher with a terrific look, he was many other things too in the campus. He was a fantastic basket ball player.  I have heard the after 4 o’clock he was in the basket ball court training students for the college team. Later he was the NCC chief in the college. By the time I met him first, he has stopped these activities and was a devoted teacher in the fullest academic and philosophic meanings of that position. Towards the fag end of his career, he was the vice principal of the college also. His discipline he might have acquired during his NCC days, his love for all and honesty he might have imbibed from the sports field, if not innate. To quote Pochen Sir (Prof C O Philip), P T John Sir was a gentleman to his fingertips.

I am his neighbour for over quarter of a century. Yet I have visited him only three or four times. In the presence of such a man with so much of unique qualities, I always had an “unsettled’ feeling. Even as a great admirer of P T John Sir I was reluctant to go anywhere near him.

On the day of the funeral I met some of his students. They were taught thirty or forty years ago. But the enthusiasm, reverence and love with which they all talked was as if P T John Sir taught then even the other day. Sir’s memories were so strongly etched in their minds.

I have never seen him without that characteristic smile I was among the huge crowd that had assembled to pay there to pay our last respects. I remained there for a while. Yet, I think I did not look at his face.... in case that mesmerising smile is not there..? There are certain precious images in one’s life which one refuses to alter.