Calm in a storm
Aishwarya R
“The naughtiest is always remembered,” sighed the headmistress without even looking at the students huddled in her room.
It was a lousy day for the class teacher and class leader. A student, Harish, had grabbed the pen of a fellow student during the math period and sprayed ink all over the whiteboard even as the teacher was lecturing on double-digit multiplication. Class 4-A was notoriously famous for this one student, Harish. He had the most mischievous tricks up his sleeves. From pulling the rubber bands out of girls’ hairdos as they stood before him in line to spraying the class walls and whiteboard with ink. When Harish moved from 3rd grade to the 4th, no teacher wanted him in their class. Except for one, Aarthi ma’am, a teacher known for her strict personality. Perhaps that is why the headmistress was convinced that Harish would do well under Aarthi ma’am’s watchful eyes.
The detail to which I remember this incident is hilariously horrific. As I stepped into the 4th grade, I had least expected a surprise on the first day of school. Aarthi ma’am was to be our class teacher. She did not seem like someone we could cross paths with. Her demeanour commanded respect and I was certainly not the only one who noticed. As she walked in, all the students stood up and sang their ‘good morning’ with much more verve than I recollected hearing in 3rd grade.
After she introduced herself, Aarthi ma’am took her seat, holding her notebook, and asked us to introduce ourselves. As we were speaking, she wrote down every single student’s introduction in the notebook. She glanced at her notes later and announced to the class, “I think we should have a class leader and I know who it should be this year.” The students were confused because class leaders were chosen only after the first month of school and not on the first day. There was a murmur of excitement among all the toppers of the class because it was always one among the toppers that got selected. Aarthi ma’am gave a quelling look to silence the murmur and announced, “The class leader will be Aishwarya,” and smiled at me.
I was taken aback, but pleased nevertheless. I was not a naughty student nor was I the best. I was quite irritable and short-tempered for a nine-year-old. I went up to the table and donned the badge happily. Little did I know that my happiness and patience were about to be tested by Harish.
In about two weeks, I was ready to give the badge to someone else. Harish proved to be the most difficult person I had ever dealt with. After the bell rang, he would sprint out of the class and never cane into the line even when I ran after him. He would try to kick classmates’ desks and disturb them as they wrote in their notebooks. I started yelling even louder than the teachers to control him. A class leader was to be responsible and keep everyone in control, right?
I was convinced that I was doing my best to keep the class controlled and disciplined. I would lose my temper regularly and the teachers had started to look at the class leader instead of Harish. At least, until one incident.
It was almost four months into my being the class leader. Fourth graders had progressed – to what felt like an achievement for a lifetime – from using pencils to pens. Harish, instead of being curious like the rest of us, had hatched the wildest plan for a nine-year-old.
On that fateful day in October, as the rains poured in Chennai with all the corridors soaking up the murky wetness, Harish found his opportune moment. He grabbed his desk-mate’s pen, and as the teacher was wrapping up the lecture, fired shots of ink on the whiteboard and walls of the classroom. The class gasped and Harish gloated. I became angry at once and tears clouded my vision. Instead of yelling, I ran out of the classroom and reached Aarthi ma’am’s cabin in the staff room.
“Ma’am, Harish sprayed the entire whiteboard with ink!” I panted.
Never the one to react harshly, Aarthi ma’am immediately asked me to come with her. I followed her to the classroom and found the math teacher fuming at Harish.
Aarthi ma’am asked the teacher calmly, “Is anyone hurt? Do you want help to deal with Harish?” The math teacher scolded him and Harish apologized. However, when he saw me, he made a rude gesture. I instantly fumed and cried, “Ma’am, he ruined the whiteboard and is now teasing me when he should be feeling sorry!” Several students nodded in agreement.
Aarthi ma’am’s response truly baffled me. “Oh, those who agree with your class leader can go to the headmistress’ office and hand Harish over to her. Aishwarya will explain the situation there as well.”
“Me? I should go to the headmistress’ office…” my voice was trailing away. My math teacher and Aarthi ma’am smiled. “If you believe what Harish did was wrong, I want you all to go to the headmistress and tell her about the situation,” said the math teacher. “And Aishwarya stop crying and go to the headmistress and explain what happened clearly. Others follow her,” Aarthi ma’am said a little more stiffly than usual.
As we huddled in the headmistress’s office, it was quite a different situation there. Our headmistress looked a little grim, and without looking at us said, “The naughtiest is always remembered by us teachers.”
I became slightly irritated. Why was no one punishing Harish? As if sensing my thoughts, the headmistress said, “But, of course, such disruptive behaviour should not be encouraged. Harish will be punished and will sit alone for a week from today. But, I must say, this is the first time he is here this year unlike the multiple visits last year. I must say both Aarthi ma’am and Aishwarya are doing a good job. Oh yes, I heard about your harsh measures, Aishwarya, on controlling mischievous students.” A couple of students agreed and my friend said, “Oh, Aishwarya is so strict with us.” Another student immediately joined in, “I’m actually scared of Aishwarya.”
A voice in my brain got angry. This is not how it was supposed to go. Harish was wrong, and I was getting everything right, but still my friends didn’t understand me. The headmistress, as if sensing my thoughts again, sent the students away and asked me and Harish to go to Aarthi ma’am.
I did as I was told, but couldn’t keep my emotions in anymore. I burst out to Aarthi ma’am, “How are the students angry with me when the headmistress did tell me that Harish’s disturbances have reduced in class?”
Harish, however, wasn’t quiet. “No, she did not say that. She said you are more strict. And, everyone made fun of you.” As I was about to retort, Aarthi ma’am silenced us, “I am sure you will get a strict punishment at home, Harish. I have already called your father and you will be cleaning the ink stains off the whiteboard. Now, hurry up and do it before the next class.”
Harish went away fuming.
I was alone with Aarthi ma’am, the injustice of it all ringing in my ears. I had done everything right. What more could I do? Maybe I should punish Harish said a voice in my head. Aarthi ma’am was still looking at me intently.
“Aishwarya, you’re definitely doing a great job as the class leader. The notebooks are sent on time and there’s much more discipline in the class. But, do you remember the last time your friends spoke to you?”
“Yes ma’am, it has been a while. I don’t know. I am always angry at Harish.”
“Yes, see how so few of your friends are sticking with you. Why do you think that’s happening?”
“Ma’am, I don’t know. I just get angry at them too. I mean, I want to be friends. But Harish…”
“Yes, Harish is annoying. But, do you see the number of people you’ve lost because of him? Do you see that one person has made you forget that you are actually a very capable leader? Do you see that it is your anger and frustration that Harish loves to see every time he does something mischievous?”
“So, is it my fault that Harish is behaving badly, ma’am?”
“Not at all, dear. You are a natural when it comes to maintaining discipline and punctuality. But, I wanted to give you this position to test your strengths and weaknesses. You’re too young, but I see potential in your commitment to follow rules and being very organized. I don’t want you to get too focused on one person or a few flaws and obsess over them. Try to be calm when some things don’t go your way. In such situations when you find yourself too angry, look away at something you like.”
She concluded her speech abruptly with a question. “What do you like the most in the school?”
“I really like the tree outside the school. And, I love the school when it rains, ma’am.”
Aarthi ma’am smiled, “Yes, I’ve seen you play on the branches of the tree. Next time when you get angry, think of your tree and how it feels to swing on it. Not on the things that bother you like Harish or any other classmate of yours. Or if you get too angry, try to let it out by drawing. No, wait, you don’t like art, right? Maybe try to write about it and step back from such people.”
I was confused. What was this teacher saying? Writing down anger?
Aarthi ma’am sensed my consternation as she went on, “Next year, you are moving to a different school and leaving this city. You will be looked at differently because you will be new. Things will be different and perhaps scarier or even more irritating. In a new place, no one will know how capable Aishwarya is but they will see a rather angry child. I don’t want that for you. I want the teachers in the new school to say all the good things about you. Now, the only thing I ask from you is: don’t react too much to things you can’t control. If you want to react, talk it out nicely, express it differently, or deflect it for a bit. Can you do that? I know you can.”
Aarthi ma’am was convinced that she had persuaded me to think differently. I went back to class and heard Harish gloating. I tried to ignore him many times, but still, I lost my temper that day. I remember feeling guilty for breaking my promise to Aarthi ma’am.
But, in the next six months, things turned out to be quite different. Harish’s notoriety did not stop, but it did stop the class leader from yelling. My old friends were swinging with me again on the trees of the school. I ended the year with another surprise – Class 4-A was awarded the best class in the school and their leader carried the award to the classroom. Harish let out the biggest squeal of excitement and my friends clapped the hardest.
Years have passed, but I still think of Aarthi ma’am fondly. She changed the life of someone too young to understand her advice at the time. I would think of her again as I became the Head Girl of my school in the 12th grade when I had to tackle with another ‘Harish’. As this new Harish yelled at me and tried to bully me, I remember smiling at his incredulous face and walking away. Sometimes, all we need to be is calm in the face of a storm. A lesson I learned from a teacher who had every right to be angry, but proceeded to teach a lesson for a lifetime on a rather stormy day.
Aishwarya R is a graduate from Ashoka University with a degree in History and International relations. She has worked in fields such as publishing, public policy, and sustainability. She recently completed her undergraduate thesis titled “In Search of Politics in Bhakti Poetry”. Her co-authored book, Etched in Time, was published by Scholastic India in 2021. Aishwarya enjoys writing poems and stories about nature and human relationships. She can be reached at aish3rs@gmail.com.
