Pitchu Master, selfless and secular to the core

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We grew up in a traditional south Indian family that nurtured the values of education, ethics, unity, culture and charity. Right through the years of the last century, my grandfather's big family with his wife, five daughters and a son, had a tough time surviving. It was in the pre and post-independence era that the family realised the acute need for education for girls. In the quiet village of Kodumudi on the banks of the Cauvery in Tamil Nadu, I grew up with the flavour of education, agriculture, sports and moral values.
Pitchu Someswaran, the schoolmaster, was an embodiment of knowledge, selfless paropakara service and secular faith. His father Vembu, a true karmayogi, donated a part of his land to the London Mission School in 1930s. The talk of the town was the statement of the European Durai Reverend Father Populi of the Missionary, who wholeheartedly appreciated the act of the only Brahmin who donated to the Christian Mission. Only two schools existed then, Sri Sankara Vidyasala (SSV) High School and the London Mission School.
This year (2010-11) SSV is celebrating its diamond jubilee, while the London Mission School is fast crossing milestones. It was a time when the schoolmaster visited the homes of absenting students to inquire why. His neat handwritten notes of lessons often circulated among us and remained a specimen to all teachers on training. Pitchu master himself cooked tasty food for students and prepared milk when the Australian milk powder was widely distributed to schools during the Kamaraj regime. The visiting District Education Officer from Bhavani was the most satisfied soul who had seen the culmination of knowledge, service and love.
When Gandhiji addressed a gathering on our school grounds sitting on top of a lorry, his smile had real charisma. Singer-actor K.B. Sundarambal was a happy person to host parties to leaders and freedom fighters. My master never allowed us to indulge in freedom or political affairs and his strict command was a blinker on our career path. A mere pass in standard X was all that was needed to land government jobs.
Prior to independence, in 1945 though my fifth form (class X) had enough strength, only two girls enrolled. Of the two, one dropped out and the other passed in third class. Education for women was taboo. It was an uphill task to break the barrier, which he did successfully. Vidwan Sandanam Pillai, Pulavar Deivasigmani Gownder, Sundaraja Iyer were noted teachers of Kodumudi who shaped the generations. To have a Bachelor of Oriental Language degree was a craze among linguists and language fanatics. Radio Periasamy, hotelier Thayirvadai Kuppanna and postman Duraisami were indispensable characters of Kodumudi.
I recall with pleasure the moments of my boyhood days, schooling and the knowledge that I gained. Tuitions were never heard off unless required. I remember Pitchu master walking to the next village to teach my classmate for a rupee a month. Can we imagine this today when advance tuition fee is collected in five digits? The partially visible tuft, angavastram and an aged umbrella branded my master from a distance. In 1985, accolades and felicitations came upon the octogenarian when the then Archbishop of Canterbury visited the school. Like his father, Pitchu practised secularism and helped students of poor Muslims. Despite hailing from a lower middle class family, he helped others financially what was possible within his means and with whole heart.
Coincidentally, the reminiscence of my master has been around the corner when we are celebrating the Teacher's Day to honour our educators and acknowledge their crucial role in shaping every student into a promising citizen. It need not be construed that those teachers who were not honoured with colours by the government are not heroes. There will be a guiding teacher or a philosopher in everybody's life who had shown special interest to elevate the wisdom at every point of life.
Though Pitchu master has gone into history, his memories are sure to rejuvenate the nostalgia of old students like me who are past 70 and 80. I salute with respect the unsung heroes of the teaching community.
(The writer's email id is kpselvaraj75@gmail.com)


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