<p>As it happens in all our lives, I attended many schools and colleges and had the fortune of meeting a variety of teachers: some I feared, some I loved, but all I respected. I learned many things, from military-style discipline to scientific temper. Every stage of schooling has left an indelible memory. Though my academic record is nothing extraordinary, the lessons I learned from innumerable people are invaluable. </p>.<p>I first stepped into a school way back in 1957–58 at Kasturba School in Gandhi Bazaar in Bengaluru. Its principal, Tuka Bai, was from a military family, and we feared her for her disciplined ways. My memory of high school, at National High School, has one dominating feature, which is the way our Kannada teacher chastised us, repeatedly calling us Katte (ass). Despite his physical limitations, our math teacher impressed us with his cricket skills.</p>.<p>D R Suryanaryana, my Social Studies teacher, described the then-raging Vietnam War so vividly that I recall the lesson as if I were watching the war unfold. Our physical education teacher, Raju, an ex-serviceman, was a strict disciplinarian. He had the difficult task of keeping an unruly group of high school students in check.</p>.<p>Later, thanks to Dr H Narasimhaiah, or HN as he was affectionately known, I began my college education at National College Jayanagar. When I requested HN for admission, he patted my back and advised me to go to the Jayanagar campus, and not Basavanagudi, as the former was close to my house. </p>.<p>There were teachers of all kinds. In Vijaya College, the principal was noted for a practice unusual in degree colleges: making a list of troublemakers every week and posting it on the notice board. And the principal of National College, D S Bhardwaj, who taught chemistry, was also an ace basketball and tennis player. </p>.<p>I was overcome with emotions when I recently met my tuition teacher, G R Raghunatha Rao, for whom teaching was a passion. Similarly, I met my chemistry lecturer after almost four decades in the unlikeliest of places: at a meeting arranged by All India Radio, Bengaluru! There were many stalwarts of Kannada literature there, but meeting my teacher was the highlight.</p>.<p>I have to mention my shorthand teacher, K Nanjunda Rao, who helped me improve my vocabulary. We had to learn the meaning of every new word he taught before the next class. I owe it to my father for inculcating the habit of reading and writing in me; he brought us various Kannada and English magazines and newspapers.</p>.<p>But of all the teachers, I treasure my interactions with Dr HN who kindled a scientific temper in me that still burns bright. In the '70s, inspired by him, my friends and I visited the abodes of many godmen around the city. That is a story for another day.</p>
<p>As it happens in all our lives, I attended many schools and colleges and had the fortune of meeting a variety of teachers: some I feared, some I loved, but all I respected. I learned many things, from military-style discipline to scientific temper. Every stage of schooling has left an indelible memory. Though my academic record is nothing extraordinary, the lessons I learned from innumerable people are invaluable. </p>.<p>I first stepped into a school way back in 1957–58 at Kasturba School in Gandhi Bazaar in Bengaluru. Its principal, Tuka Bai, was from a military family, and we feared her for her disciplined ways. My memory of high school, at National High School, has one dominating feature, which is the way our Kannada teacher chastised us, repeatedly calling us Katte (ass). Despite his physical limitations, our math teacher impressed us with his cricket skills.</p>.<p>D R Suryanaryana, my Social Studies teacher, described the then-raging Vietnam War so vividly that I recall the lesson as if I were watching the war unfold. Our physical education teacher, Raju, an ex-serviceman, was a strict disciplinarian. He had the difficult task of keeping an unruly group of high school students in check.</p>.<p>Later, thanks to Dr H Narasimhaiah, or HN as he was affectionately known, I began my college education at National College Jayanagar. When I requested HN for admission, he patted my back and advised me to go to the Jayanagar campus, and not Basavanagudi, as the former was close to my house. </p>.<p>There were teachers of all kinds. In Vijaya College, the principal was noted for a practice unusual in degree colleges: making a list of troublemakers every week and posting it on the notice board. And the principal of National College, D S Bhardwaj, who taught chemistry, was also an ace basketball and tennis player. </p>.<p>I was overcome with emotions when I recently met my tuition teacher, G R Raghunatha Rao, for whom teaching was a passion. Similarly, I met my chemistry lecturer after almost four decades in the unlikeliest of places: at a meeting arranged by All India Radio, Bengaluru! There were many stalwarts of Kannada literature there, but meeting my teacher was the highlight.</p>.<p>I have to mention my shorthand teacher, K Nanjunda Rao, who helped me improve my vocabulary. We had to learn the meaning of every new word he taught before the next class. I owe it to my father for inculcating the habit of reading and writing in me; he brought us various Kannada and English magazines and newspapers.</p>.<p>But of all the teachers, I treasure my interactions with Dr HN who kindled a scientific temper in me that still burns bright. In the '70s, inspired by him, my friends and I visited the abodes of many godmen around the city. That is a story for another day.</p>