Painting classes with a cow-dung mixture? How does that help a university in Delhi to keep the heat out? A lesson to learn? Click the link in the comments for more details.

A Beloved Teacher.

Who was your most influential teacher? Why?

Late Dr. APJ Abdul Kalam, the former president, a scientist, an erudite scholar and an excellent teacher.

He was born into a Muslim family who lived in a remote town called Rameswaram on Pamban Island. It is a popular pilgrimage centre located in the State of Tamil Nadu, South of India.

Dr. Kalam always said he was a teacher first and a president next. Such was his love for teaching. The nation remembers him as a great role model.

He was called the “People’s President” because he asked students in the country to dream of a strong, self-reliant India. And he tasked the teachers with preparing the young towards achieving the goal.

He emphasized the importance of students developing a scientific temper and encouraged them to think independently to find solutions.

Dr. Kalam returned to teaching, writing and public service after he served just one term as president. Humility was his character and personality.

He wrote a book titled India 2020 wherein he put out an action plan that he said would take India towards achieving a developed status by 2020. It’s now 2024 and the nation is achieving the objective thanks to Dr. Kalam’s vision.

In 1997, Kalam received India’s highest civilian honour, the Bharat Ratna, for his contribution to scientific research and modernization of defence technology.

He died while delivering a lecture at the Indian Institute of Management in Shillong on 27 July 2015.

The nation remembers him not just as a scientist, scholar or the former president of India, but as a beloved teacher.

A twin-headache turned into a compliment, how?

What was the best compliment you’ve received?

One year separates me and my brother. My brother Raman was born in the month of October 1965. I was born almost a year later, in November 1966. (Please, don’t blame my parents.)

We looked similar in appearance when we were young. So identical that people found it tough to differentiate between us.

My dad worked as an engineer for the government. We lived in a remote town called Sivaganga in Tamilnadu when we were born.

We often played together. We never missed each other. It took time for our friends too to actually see who’s who. It was good fun though.

(We are now 59 years old and still many can’t call our names right!)

My brother Raman started school at five, and I missed him so much. I couldn’t wait to go to school.

A year was soon gone. Ram was now in grade two, and I had just started. In the same school.

As we were so close, I couldn’t see him sitting too far away in a different class. So I would give a miss in my class, run, sneak through and sit next to him.

That soon became a routine every day. Five days a week.

Teachers found this amusing. They sent staff and boys to bring me to my class. They used to drag me along the floor as I cried and rolled. No mercy.

When school announced the break, I would run back to where my brother sat. A classic Chaplin movie on display at school.

My parents were worried. They sat with the head teacher and staff discussing ways to stop me.

To make matters worse, my brother too joined the sit-in-protest (dharna). We both cried in buckets when staff tried separating us.

Teachers suggested various measures, ranging from punishing us to tying us with ropes to admitting us into separate schools, to some even giving a hint as to seeking a transfer for my dad. So sad.

The head teacher rolled her eyes and raked her brains. How just the two of us made the entire school sweat it out. Not a day passed without the teachers thinking about us.

A week was gone. How to separate us was now the talk of town.

My dad soon found a solution. He rushed to meet the head teacher. The staff were also joined.

If the school didn’t mind, my dad said he was ready to register his children as twins. And I could continue, from grade two, along with my brother Raman.

That let me give a whole year a miss in grade one. Wow!

Sounds alright. The head teacher was convinced. The staff heaved a sigh of relief. Necessary paper work was to be done.

When my brother and I entered school the next day, the whole school welcomed us with claps and I was called a ‘child prodigy’. Prodigy for what?

A prodigy for giving one whole year a miss and starting school from grade two.

‘Child Prodigy’ was the best compliment I received. Sorry! WE received.