Campus Capers

Teaching and learning go hand in hand and while serious efforts are needed to excel in what one does, it is never a good thing to dismiss the lighter side. This part is what makes teaching memorable, even if it is at the expense of somebody or something. As the philosopher is reported to have remarked: “He who laughs last did not catch the joke”.

While still a college student, I—and everybody else in the classroom—was stunned into silence when another batch-mate replied to a question. This particular guy was the Monitor of the class and he was, in modern parlance, a nerd. The “English” lecturer was explaining the Nightingale’s “The Queen’s Necklace”. He asked, casually: “Has any one of you ever seen a queen?” The silence was broken when the monitor raised his hand. “What?” the teacher queried. “Yes, Sir”, the boy replied. “My mother is a queen!”

Not your everyday answer, I’m sure. More often than not, answers evoke laughter, even ribaldry. Take the case of the Lecturer (an English one, again) who caught the bull by the *****, literally. Beginning to explain Gandhiji’s position vis-à-vis the place of women in everyday life, he turned the Mahatma’s essay: “Women, not the Weaker Sex” around by stating that women were not weak in sex!!!

Another anecdote involved yet another Lecturer—an English one, again—who began to graphically describe Wordsworth’s “Westminster Bridge”. Spreading his legs wide apart, he intoned: “Do you know what is a bridge?” Not waiting for an answer, he pointed to his outstretched feet and said, in a very matter-of-fact tone: “A bridge connects two things”, pointing appropriately to his stance. Much, much later, he learned that one of his students wanted to know what kind of bridge he was referring to: suspension, or cantilever, or whatever else.

I’ve said it before: no delight for the writer, no delight for the reader. So, here’s some stuff from a student’s standpoint. I was an external examiner for the General English paper of the BA/BSc course. In those bygone days, short answers needed to be provided; these were called annotations or ERCs—Explain with Reference to Context. One student, explaining the pertinent line from Goldsmith’s “Elegy on the death of a mad dog”, came up with: “the dog bit the man’s private end!” I awarded a full two-marks for the same.

At the next level, another student opined that D. H. Lawrence’s classic “Sons and Loafers” was a veiled autobiography. Of course, I was generous with my marks. But the best was when a group of us were examining scripts on “Shakespeare”. Opposite us was a lady whose bosom lay heaving rhythmically on the table-top. Suffused with Shakespearean sentiment, one lecturer burst out: “Madam, your breasts are filled with the milk of human kindness!” The lady in question did not even raise an eyebrow, such was her poise.

Just one more anecdote and I’m done. This one’s probably the most raucous of them all. At a general staff meeting, some members were particularly loud. One member objected, raising a point-of-order with the Chair. He was not from the English faculty, but he put forward his case vehemently. “Mr. Chairman”, he said, in a stentorian voice, “Too many cocks spoil the broth!” Quick on the uptake was another teacher, seated alongside me, just behind the previous speaker. “Sir”, he whispered into the other’s ear, “Of course, you’re right, but so too is this: too many cocks spoil the brothel!!!”

See you again, dear readers, next Wednesday. And take heart.