Went to visit Ganga at his residence which we friends call Gangalayam. Ganga is fine and recounted his encounter with elephants. The elephants charged him twice and left him with a long gash on his back narrowly missing his Aorta and spinal column. If the horns of the wild beast had touched either Ganga wouldn’t have lived to tell his story. He is lucky to be alive. That makes it two among the people closely known to me who consider themselves lucky to be a live – Ganga and Peter – both admen, both of whom have worked in an agency called Trikaya. Sounds corny?
Met Shankaranarayanan-sir, who was responsible for initiating my love for literature and poetry. His English classes in Adarsha Vidyalaya used to be keenly looked forward to by me, and several others, fired at that time for the infectious fervour he had instilled for all things literary. He still is a “sahityakaran” – a literary person. He informs me that his play is being published in Kerala, in Malayalam. To which I reply that I too am a “cheriya sahityakaran”, a struggling man of literature, and extend my card bearing my web and blog addresses. Shankaranarayanan-sir, if you are reading this, thanks, thanks, thanks, for enthusing me with the abiding love of literature. I bow and touch your feet, sir, for this abiding passion that has become an indelible part of me.
Shows how much teachers can inspire a love of a subject and how much they can make us hate a subject. Shankaro-sir was, and still is, a very intelligent and perceptive teacher. On the contrary, my maths teacher gave us all a fright when she announced at the beginning of the term that it will become very difficult as the term progressed and many of us will have to fail, or drop out. Such fear psychosis! Predictably many of us did.
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