Sheela Bhat; She was the prettiest teacher
of my schooldays. A kannadiga, Sheela was fair and a classical Indian beauty.
Then in her mid-30s, she stood at 5’ 4”, invariably saree clad, a dark jet of
long hair, perfect black eyes that shone like coal, snout nose on a small face,
symmetrical eyebrows nicely trimmed, and a small compact chin. She wore those
dark-coloured blouses that open a large window on wheatish skin at the back; the
adolescent boys ogled with relish.
Sheela taught almost every
subject; English, Maths, Social Studies and even Science on occasions. Her
voice was loud but sounded very feminine and cultured. Sheela without doubt was
the fantasy of a boy’s school and her classes were most disciplined. Sheela
would also boast of her son’s academic achievements; he won a scholarship in
college which she proudly scribbled on the blackboard. He ranked 6 amongst
lakhs of students in an exam and we saw so many zeroes scrawled on the board as
she narrated it with gusto.
Sheela had a very “family” outlook
to students. She was quite personal and almost behaved as if a surrogate mother
to us; very affectionate in her administrations and understanding to our
excuses. She never came running at us with canes like the others. Despite her
mediocre teaching abilities, she was by far the most popular and best loved.
And best of all told us anecdotes of her car driving – women driving were a novelty
then- on Hyderabad roads with excited hand gestures and hyper tone of voice.
One of the students spotted
her at the famed Sangeet cinema to watch a movie with her family. That would be
school gossip by the end of the day,” God, I saw Sheela ma’am at the theatre
and she was wearing jeans”. This is in the early 80s was almost scandalous.
I still recollect that we had
assembled after the long summer break and the first day in our new 7th
standard class, Sheela strolled in a new bob cut. Their long pleated hair was
now cut to the shoulder and the entire class gasped in shock before we could
sing the chorus,” Good morning, teacher”. For the next 10 minutes there was a
dazed almost shocked silence at our most beautiful teacher’s latest haircut.
I guess she knew that she was
beautiful and turning the heads of little boys fast growing up. She would
address as “children” when a wag said in our 10th standard,” We are
now old enough to have your children!!!!”
But once you see her day in
and day, we more or less reacted to her as a surrogate mother or aunty. She
would organize dance rehearsals for the annual school day celebrations and she
came across as very much dyed-in-the wool Indian than any firangi lifestyle.
Maybe, we growing boys saw her as a Rekha or Zeenat and fueled our fantasy.
I saw her after 20 years and
she had aged a lot as those spectacles covered most of her face. She was still
very much in command at the school, now senior-most with over 25 years
experience. I felt sad seeing this one time beauty being ravaged by time.
Nothing gives more perspective to our own ageing selves than seeing those whom
we grew up with after a long interval of time. Such occasions are a more a
mirror of our own immortality than the daily one.
I shall always remember her
and store her in my memory as an extraordinary beautiful lady and a ton of
natural grace. She was full of feminine affections and a chirpy character at
the end of the day and what’s more came with no malice.
Verdict: Rajasic
Lesson to be learnt: Learn to get into their good books for
society dotes on such characters.
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