The Silent Saint
It was the first period in 6th B class. I was teaching value education, the board had this as a compulsory subject, only education was not going anywhere therefore, we teachers had to add value separately. I was telling my students about the importance of social service. As an example, I was narrating a story about Baba Amte the great social worker, and his selfless work for the people shunned by society.
Outside Dhondu, our school peon was busy as usual running up and down the corridor, Adarsh Vidyamandir and Dhondu Khotavle had grown together. Adarsh Vidyamandir was approaching its silver jubilee year while Dhondu Kaka( as he is lovingly addressed from the principal to right up to the kids in KG class.) was in his forties. Dhondu Kaka and Adarsh Vidyamandir seemed inseparable. Thousands of students, hundreds of teachers and staff, few principals had come and gone, but Dhondu Kaka faithfully stayed on. He was unique, God in his special moment had created him. He poured an extra portion of strength and to compensate took away a little of his intelligence. A great worker, he could carry the cricket gear of the whole team in one go!
I had been in this school for quite long, twelve years as a student and now for four years as a teacher. Never had I seen Kaka passive or inactive. Arranging benches and desks, setting the stage, carrying loads of registers and files, shifting and moving furniture and so much more. He was a one-man army. Mechanically working as he is told and happily.
Even now I could hear him running errands, outside my class. Inside my class was immersed in my story of Baba Amte and his service to Mankind. I was emotionally and dramatically telling my eager listeners how Baba in his ashram served persons afflicted with leprosy with love and compassion. I also added that he did all this in spite of his spine injury and would take care of everything in his ashram, from treating patients medically to rehabilitating them.
My students were enthralled, were listening with their heart and soul. For them it was a fairytale, every eye twinkling with awe and respect for Baba! And here I was so proud of myself! This was the moment !! I asked my smitten students, ”Dear children now tell me, what you would do to help the society?” Mostly all hands were up. Every student wanted to answer. One boy said, “Teacher, I will build a school for poor children.” Another girl said, “ I’ll open a hospital to treat poor, sick people.” One would provide food while another clothes and someone else money and what not! Each contribution got more ambitious than the other. By now I was gloating with pride! I felt accomplished! I had created saints among mortal men!
Deepak, sitting on the last bench alone, was quiet. He sat there oblivious of all the going ones. He sat there in his own silence. He would hardly ever speak. But every teacher had something to say about him. “ O that Deepak, he’s useless”, said Mrs. Swami, the English teacher. “ Why does he come to eat our heads!” complained the Hindi teacher, Mrs. Kumar. Shaking his head, Mr. D’Souza quipped, “He will fail this year, he’s got only two marks in maths.” Mrs. Roy, the science teacher, fresh from her three day workshop on child psychology added thoughtfully, “ You know the problem is his socioeconomic background, he has low self-esteem, I think.” The other teachers all nodded sympathetically.
I always found Deepak intimidating, his silence unsettled me. His impersonal eyes had many unsaid, unending stories.
In my class, I was flooded and drowned with the ‘services’ my little saints would provide. When suddenly a loud crash disturbed our utopia. In the real world outside, Dhondu Kaka had fallen on the floor, he was like a see-saw balancing on his seat, legs, and hands up in the air In his right hand he had a cup of tea and a load full of registers under his left arm. The whole class including me ran outside, Kaka was still on the floor screaming deliriously, “Tea did not spill…! Tea did not spill! It was a scene straight from a Chaplin classic !!
My class and I were watching this. My newly anointed saints were laughing uproariously, while I was trying hard to suppress my giggle.
Just then pushing amid the laughter and chaos, came Deepak, he went straight to Dhondu Kaka, who was still on the floor saving the cup of tea. Deepak took the cup and kept it on the window sill and said, “Arre Kaka, got hurt a what?”. Kaka went on mumbling repeatedly, “Tea did not spill na re…..it’s Madam’s tea….!” Deepak helped him up, made him sit on a bench nearby, picked up the scattered registers, gave it to Kaka, and calmly added, “Okay..Okay, tea did not spill, now take it and go. Dhondu Kaka went away with registers and the cup of tea.
Deepak, my students and I went inside the class. It took a while to settle. My saints were still smirking and sniggering around. Deepak as usual went to his last bench and resumed his silence. Deepak hadn’t raised his hand and I hadn’t asked for his contribution. But…. Deepak had answered my question.
