My earliest recollections of the school are not very happy. The school house was shoddy and the surroundings not very healthy and attractive. The teachers, with rare exceptions, were a set of dowdy old men or young and inexperienced people, fresh from the high school. But, young or old, they used the cane very liberally and the very sight of them used to strike terror in the minds of the tender children committed to their care.

            Thus Mr. Vakeeil Sankunny Menon, my teacher in my first year in the infant standard, is mostly remembered by me by the skilful way in which my mother used his name successfully to make me gulp down an extra dose of castor oil. If not imbibed straight away, Mr. Sankunny Menon would be brought down. That was the threat and how effective it was !

            My second year in the infant standard is also remembered by me by reason of several pinches all over the body, sharp rapping on the knuckles, knocks on the head and liberal use of the cane, administered by the skilled hand of my teacher, Mr. Koranchath Sivasankaran , who formed the minds and bodies of the children by frequently mauling them and knocking them about, much the same way as the potter kneads the clay and beats it into shape. Mr. Sivasankaran is luckily alive with us and is now all smiles and sweetness. We notice in him a mellowing of character and softening of temper, perhaps effected by matrimony and the presence of kiddies at home.

            This recording of my rather unhappy recollections of my first two years in school is not intended to be a reflection on the teachers or on the dear old school. The system was rotten and is not much improved now. We are compelling our dear children in their most tender years to spend the major part of the day in ill-planned, unhealthy, overcrowded class-rooms in charge of a set of generally untrained ill-paid and discontented teachers. The children are cramped physically and mentally and made unfit to face the problems of life later on. It is all a sad story which has to be changed and re-written in a free India.

            But India’s freedom was wrought by a generation of men and women, trained in a system like the above. So, it was not altogether bad. Similarly, amidst the dreary stretch of my early days at school, there were interspersed periods of sweetness and light also. For example, Mr. Kesava Iyyan, my teacher in the first class was all kindness and love towards the children and his teaching was none-the-less effective, for want of the cane. And Mr. Rakku Menon, my teacher in the second class was a man of rare ability and sterling character and all old boys of the school without a single exception have the greatest love and regard for him. He had an exceptional knowledge of child psychology and like Aesop of old, he made effective use of it in his classes. He used to label each child in his class by an appropriate bird or animal name, according to the character and aptitudes of each child. And the personal name was rarely used by him. His classes generally contained a dozen apes and monkeys (Raman, Bali, Sugrivan etc.) a few foxes, some half a dozen asses and donkeys and mules, one or two elephants or buffaloes according to bulk and a pig or two and some vultures. With regular application to studies and progress in class, many an ass became horses, vultures changed into eagles and many a goose became swans. If sleeping in class or monkey pranks were rewarded with knocks on the head and nick-names to boot, a correct answer to a question was rewarded with an affectionate hug and a fatherly kiss, a source of joy to the child and often of pain also when the master’s face had a week’s growth of hair. Altogether, a dear old teacher he was, much loved and respected by the children. Mr. Menon made skilful use of Aesop’s methods. Thus, in his class the story of the wolf and the lamb would be made to be enacted by two children and the moral of the tale taught. Another day, it would be the fox and the crane feasting each other or the cats seeking the monkey’s help in adjudicating their claims to a piece of bread. Mr. Rakku Menon is aged now, but is hale and hearty. May he live long and be happy – this is the sincerest prayer of one and all of his old students.

            After Rakku Menon, I am inclined to take a jump to the second form where I had the extreme good fortune of sitting at the feet of my revered Guru-the late lamented Sri. K.V. Subramania Iyer. Born in a Telugu Brahmin family that had migrated to Malabar and settled in Kollengode, he was an erudite scholar in Telugu, Tamil, Sanskrit, Malayalam and English. He was a talented teacher and could teach any subject equally effectively. To sit in his class was a regular treat. Hours of lessons with him used to fleet like minutes and one used to feel sorry when the bell was rung for dispersal. Elements of idiom and grammar, rules of composition and correct use of language, maxims of rhetoric prosody and metre, in Sanskrit, Tamil, Malayalam or English, and principles of Arithmetic, Algebra and Geometry – all, once taught by him, became the permanent and life-long possessions of his students. And he used to keep the students alert and awake and eager to take in his words, not by threat of the cane, but by lucid exposition of the subject, supported by apt illustrations, witty sayings, appropriate quotations, interesting anecdotes, and humorous stories. And he was not a pedant. The vastness and depth of his learning were equaled by his sense of humor and he kept his students roaring with laughter. If at times, he pinched you underneath the arm for inattention on your part, you cried in pain and laughed also at his humorous sallies at you. He was a born teacher and like a Rishi of old, but clad in coat and turban.

            By his merits as a teacher and his sterling character, he earned the great esteem and love of all his students and the general public. He was a very pious man and his very presence spread a halo of godliness around. He was very regular and systematic in the performance of the daily rituals prescribed for Brahmins by the Sastras. In addition, he used to recite the Rama Nama several thousand times per day. And on leave days and holy days he used to sit long hours at prayer and fasting, with a red cord wound several times round his thumb, each coil of the cord denoting one thousand repetitions of the Holy Mantra. It was an ennobling sight to see him and his devoted wife circling the holy Banian Tree in the mornings and after Puja, with what endearing love and pleasure they distributed the sweets and knick-knacks among the village urchins standing near about. He had also great musical talents and a splendid voice. He used to lead in Bhajana Ghoshties arousing much genuine Bhakti in the minds to fellow devotees, by his beautiful and inspired rendering of devotional songs. In short, he was a great soul and it is a perennial source of pride and pleasure to recall one’s days as student under him.

            And there was Mr. A.K.Subramania Iyer. Also an excellent teacher, quite competent to teach any subject assigned to him. But he was never satisfied with merely teaching the subjects according to the syllabus or the set-lessons in the text books. Topics of current interest, daily news-items of importance, lives of great men, heroes and heroines of all nations in every walk of life; in fact a fund of useful general information was regularly and systematically conveyed to the students in his classes. It was his practice to reserve some five or ten minutes during at least one period each day, for a short and brilliant discourse on, say, Casabianca at his post duty on the burning deck, the boy who saved Holland by keeping his finger thrust in the crevice in the dyke, Grace Darling and Florence Nightingale, Joan of Arc and Rani Lakshmi Bhai of Jhansi, Lady Godiva saving the citizens, Robert Bruce and George Washington, Padmini of Chitor and Chand Bibi of Ahamednagar, and Sita and Savithri of Puranic fame. Sometimes it would be the great wall of China, the Pyramids of Egypt, the leaning tower of Pisa and the Coliseum of Rome or the Taj at Agra, the Kohinoor at the Peacook Throne, or subjects like the sinking of the Titanic, the escapades of the Emden, the Suez and Panama Canals, the Crupps factory in Germany or the erruption of the Vesuvius or the earthquake in Japan. Or it would be a subject like the grandeur of the Himalayas, the Mount Everest and a trip to Kedar Nath and Badri Nath. At this distance of time, I clearly remember his discourse on the parliament of religious at Chicago and the conquest of America by Swami Vivekananda. I could add on to the list of topics he discoursed on, with such telling and fruitful effect and that, in the space of five or ten minutes. And at the fag end of the day, after hours of gerund-grinding and much worse, with what refreshing effect, such discourses on ennobling topics fell on our young and impressionable minds !! He was a great teacher and may his methods be an eye-opener to the present generation of teachers, some of whom act as mere conduit pipes for vomiting in the class-rooms, much undigested information, gathered from printed notes, prepared by worthless hacks and make the helpless students unthinkingly lap up the sorry stuff.

            Such was not the dish served by most of my teachers in my boyhood days in school. Those were the days of Rakku Menon, K.V. Subramania Iyer, A.K. Subramania Iyer and Mr. Kunhikrishna Panickar, gaints of whom any school may be proud. And hence our pride in being old boys of the Sealy Memorial School, Ah ! the dear old school! Old in years, but ever young in spirit. May Saraswathi, the benign Goddess of Light and Learning reign supreme, for ever, and for ever, in this great Temple of Learning – this is the devout wish and sincerest prayer, of a humble devotee at the shrine.

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