Quest-I = Pujya Gurudev

Beginning the Quest-I

=Pt.ShriRam Sharma Acharya

My Life as a Student FATHER HAD PLANNED not to send his son to school but to have him learn dyeing. So he taught me at home up to the level of the fifth or sixth class, and then sent me for admission to the Kala Bhavan {technical school} at Baroda, where he was well known and respected. Everyone recognized me as ’Bhave’s son, but they could not admit me. They asked me how far I had gone in English and I told them ’up to the third English class’; since other candidates had got as far as ’intermediate arts’, I had no chance. My father then began to teach me further himself, and finding that his lad spent more time roaming about than studying, gave me a lot of mathematical problems to keep me busy.

So what did I do? I concentrated on the more difficult ones which were set out in small type at the end of the text book, worked them all out and left the rest. Father realized that I grasped the subject so he said nothing, and what I learned with him was all I needed up to the matriculation level. I would first finish my assignment in Maths and English within the hour and then be off on my wanderings for four or five hours at a stretch. So finally in disgust father dumped me in school. There too I carried on in the same way. I not only went on roaming, I pulled my friends out of their homes to join me and gave them no chance to study.

Babaji Moghe used to hide in some temple to study and keep out of my way, but I would search for him, find him and drag him out. As a boy my two hobbies were reading and roaming. I would be off whenever I got the chance. Another friend of mine, Raghunath Dhotre, would always tell me that I had wheels on my feet. ’Vinya,’ Mother would say, ’in your last birth you must have been a tiger; for one thing, you must have your daily round, and for another you have a very keen nose, you can’t bear the slightest bad odour.’ So I soon knew every street in Baroda, and I would be off at all time of day or night - any time would do for me. I liked running too, but I never kept any record of the distances I covered. I once set out for a run at half past midnight, and took the road past the Baroda Palace grounds.

The sentry shouted his customary challenge Hukum...Dar,1 but I took no notice and ran on. A little later I returned by the same road. This time the sentry stopped me and asked why I was running;
’For exercise,’ I replied. He retorted: ’Who runs for exercise at one o’clock in the morning? You are up to mischief, you are a thief!’ ’And when did a thief ever come back by the same road he went out?’ I demanded. He had no answer to that and let me go.

One Diwali I spent hours during the three days of the festival going into every little lane and side street in Baroda to see whether there were any houses that did not display the festal lamps. I did not find a single house in the whole city where no lamps were burning. The Muslim houses too all had their lighted lamps. I also used to visit the various temples. There was one temple, close to Kamathibag, whose deity I named ’Lord of Exams’. Our college was nearby, and during examination days crowds of students would visit the shrine for darshan, and to pray that the Lord would grant them a ’pass’. In school and college my only concern was how soon the class would end and I be set free. But there was one occasion when the teacher began to dictate notes. I wrote nothing, I just listened, and the teacher noticed it. When he had finished the dictation he told me to stand up and read what I had written. I stood up at once with my notebook in my hand and repeated all I had heard. The teacher was taken aback. ’Just let me see your notebook,’ he said. I showed him the blank pages. ’You won’t be able to read what I have written, sir,’ I said. Mathematics was my strong subject. The teacher was fond of his pupils and took great pains over his work. One day I consulted him about an exceptionally difficult problem. He thought for a while and then said: ’Come back to me tomorrow. In all my years of teaching no one has posed such a problem before. I am so familiar with ordinary mathematics that I could teach it in my sleep, but this problem of yours is a different matter. I shall be able to give you an answer only tomorrow.’ These words made a very deep impression on me. But some teachers, when the children can’t work out their maths problems, have a habit of slapping their cheeks. I wonder what a slap has to do with mathematics? Is it perhaps that a slap on the cheek stimulates the flow of blood to the brain, so that it begins to work better and so solve the problem? Could that be the reason? When I was a little lad, about twelve years old, one of the teachers in our school used to cane the children a lot. He seemed to think that caning was the only basis for knowledge. He had a long cane which he kept locked up. We children didn’t like canings, but what could we do? Finally one day I managed to pick the lock and throw the cane away. When the teacher found it gone he guessed, of course, that one of us had been playing pranks, but he said nothing. Next day he brought another cane, and I got rid of that one too. He got yet a third cane, and that also I disposed of. Then he got really annoyed and began asking questions to get at the source of the mischief, but none of the boys said a word - they were all on my side.

(Countinue)

Thanks GOD,Thanks Sadguru,

Shiv Sharma