Sreejith Nair
2005 – 2008, Brindavan

Answer-scripts in hand, Professor Ruchir Desai walked into the class. He was known for his no-nonsense attitude and mercurial temper. Coupled with the anticipation of results, a hushed silence swiftly descended upon the class. The anxiety was palpable.

As was characteristic of him, sir had arranged the sheets from the lowest scores to the highest. As he distributed the sheets, a curious onlooker, if there was one, could make out the thinly veiled glee on some faces, while others sulked in shame and disappointment. Quantitative subjects like accounts or financial management, didn’t have grey areas. There was nowhere to hide. Prof. Desai’s eyes panned across the classroom and let the reality settle in. An occasional nod or a smile to a student who met his glance filled the fleeting moments.

And then, he called the class to order. “Okay, those of you who have scored C or below, stand up”, he said.
The scarce sporadic dispersion of the bottom-of-the-pyramid in the class stood up slowly, their heads hung low partly in regret and partly in fear. Prof. Desai was known to be a strict taskmaster. Sitting in the corner, I thanked my stars, on having escaped this ignominy. I could see a couple of my roommates standing. Their predicament was indeed pitiful.

The professor slightly shuffled his position, resting his back against the table. “Those of you who have scored O, stand up please”, he directed.

This time, the students sprang up, almost like the army being called to attention. Who doesn’t like to be praised, congratulated and maybe even hero worshipped?

I could feel the weaker students cringe in anticipation of what was to follow. That even the modern, techno-savvy man subscribes to the jungle law of “survival of the fittest” is indeed a cruel juxtaposition. Quite often, weaker students are supposed to clap for the better ones. I have felt that such actions only help feed the tamasic demons of jealousy and anger instead of encouraging constructive criticism and unbiased introspection among those who are probably not that academically well endowed. But what I hadn’t factored in was that this was “Swami’s college”. And in here, every second a miracle occurred, if you were cautious enough to observe.

Professor Desai faced the class with a straight face, and said: “Look around you. You will be able to spot your room-mate, cupboard-mate, someone you have dinner with, someone who you play with, someone you call brother who has failed the test. You yourself did well. But did you take time out to help your brother out when he needed your help? It’s even worse if you didn’t even know that he was in need of help.” He asked. The master of pauses, that he was, he let the stunned silence cement the message in our minds.

By the next evening, I noticed that many small study groups had mushroomed in the hostel quadrangle and bhajan hall. You could hardly find anyone struggling by himself. Ruchir Sir was a man of few words, but a great influence. I strongly believe that he continues to live on – in our chivalry, our devotion, our camaraderie, our seva and our will to give the best to the world in service of Bhagwan. Sai Ram!