Mahima Bhattacharya
Sep 5, 2018 · 3 min read

The Science of Life

The first time we met, I saw him enter the class in a neatly pressed khadi kurta and a spotless white dhoti, wearing a broad smile — the smile — there was something remarkable about it. A smile that brimmed with confidence, warmth and unassuming playfulness. I had reached the class 10 minutes ahead of time. He asked me, “So…what are you here for, Miss?”. I nervously replied, “I am waiting for Ajit sir. He teaches Life Science. Am I not in the right class?”. He said, “Well, I am Ajit Sengupta. But I teach the Science of Life”. I stared at him, puzzled, trying to comprehend the wordplay.

It did not take me long to become another admirer of this strange man. I can write pages on the tons of anecdotes he narrated to help us understand what life and Science are or as he put it, “If you do not treasure the life you have been gifted with, there is no point learning Science.”

Today, in the memory of my most beloved teacher, I want to share one such story that Sir had once narrated to us. As most of us were products of nuclear families, he wanted us to get a glimpse of his childhood. He was raised in a large family of aunts, uncles and a dozen brothers and sisters. He started,

“As a kid, I was overindulged by my aunts (kakima, jethima) as I was a motherless child. I was the only kid in the household to be openly showered with affection by every aunt and uncle. You see, there are certain untold rules in a joint family. One cannot publicly display love towards her biological child in a family with dozens of kids to tend to. Most of you are unfortunate products of nuclear families who enjoy the undivided attention of your parents. While I was growing up, I had 5 mothers and 13 brothers and sisters. Imagine the number of dresses I used to get on my birthday and Durga pujo! But, unlike you, we had to wear anything and everything we were given to wear whether that was an orange shirt with magenta collar or an over-sized trouser that had to be fitted at the waist with a safety-pin. We wouldn’t dare protest because gifts weren’t meant to be chosen.

We did not know the concept of ‘pocket money’. We would carry lunch boxes to school and not a scrap should remain in the box when we came home. I was very fond of ice gola and would stare at the colourful golas that some of my friends would buy during recess. I had begged Chhotoma (my youngest aunt) several times for some money to buy a gola in school but in vain. One afternoon, while playing football after school, I saw a 5 paisa lying unclaimed in the field. I could not resist the temptation to savour a ‘kala khatta’. I picked up the coin and rushed to the gola stall. As luck would have it, I left marks of my gluttony on the school uniform. In the evening, while washing the school shirt, my secret had been betrayed. Chhotoma summoned me to her room. I still remember that look of bruised pride in her eyes as she interrogated me, “From whom did you steal the money?”. Tears rolled down my eyes as I gathered the courage to speak up, “I stole from no one, Chhotoma. I picked it up from the ground…must have fallen from someone’s pocket. Trust me. I would never steal.” That night, I saw a different person in my most beloved aunt. She beat me incessantly for at least a quarter of an hour. I went back to my room, angry and humiliated. I cried till I fell asleep empty stomach. The next thing I could remember was the warmth of tears on my bruised back. I opened my eyes to find Chhotoma sitting at the edge of the bed holding a plate in her hand. I turned my face away from her. She ran her fingers through my hair and mumbled, “Aaj tor ma thakleo etai korto. Raag korishna baba. Khali pete ghumashna (Had your mother been alive, she would have done the same. Don’t be upset with me, my child. Please don’t go to bed empty stomach)”. I was still very hurt and angry but did not have the audacity to deny food. I quietly ate as she fed me with her hands. ”

As Sir paused to look at us, we sat silently looking at him, trying to make sense of the family dynamics that was completely alien to us.