Limaye Sir

I am student of Balmohan Vidyamandir, Dadar, Mumbai. In 1997 I passed 9^th and started 10^th std. Our school used to conduct special classes in view of board exams, called Saraav Class, meaning practice classes. Ranade Sir was in charge of Saraav classes. He called us on day one, and said, “Look, Limaye sir will take English and Sanskrit for you. But it’s your responsibility that your portion gets over. The topics may change at random, but you will have to bring him on track. After all, we need to prepare for boards.”

We did not understand why he is suggesting it that way. But we had to wait only till our first lesson with Limaye Sir. Things were enough clear then.

Long hair, settled on neck, half grey, lose wrist-watch, soda-water glasses, BEST Bus ticket folded and tugged to buttonhole of shirt, in this attire, he entered, and first comment was, “Oh, a lot of students, never mind…it will dwindle slowly!” I and my friend, Saumita, gave each other startled looks.

He kept down his bag on the table, settled himself in the wooden chair, and closed his eyes. He began in clear and perfect Marthi/English. Throughout the year, I just saw him stand up near the board and use a chalk only once. That too, when none of us could write a correct sandhi of ‘Navratr’and útsav’. It should have been “Navratryutsav” (i+u=yu)

He began with the first lesson, and as usual we opened notebooks and started taking notes. Limaye sir, with eyes closed, “What’s the use of taking notes? Once the book is lost, then blank slate. Better pay attention and try to understand and remember”. We were extremely surprised that a teacher,himself was refraining us from taking What kind of teacher is this, a thought flickered for a second.

Obviously, some were scared, some curious, and some started making fun. Someone giggled. Suddenly, eyes opened.. .’Blue shirt, come here!’ Sir roared. Of course, the blue shirt understood whom he is talking to, but he gave a confused look, started looking somewhere. A louder roar, ‘yes you, fall out!’

Goodness, we did not even know that calling someone out is also told in words, ‘fall out’. Our English was only for writing paper in exam.

After publically insulting the blue shirt, he started to the whole class, “If you expect that you would get 100 on 100 in Sanskrit after attending my class, or it will help you for merit list, forget it! Come only if you wish to learn the language”

In true sense, I do not remember what he taught for 10^th std, but he opened whole new world of language, its fun, slang, accents, grammar for us. Whenever possible, he introduced us right from ancient civilizations to world wars, from Mahabharat to science and from classical music to philosophy. He nurtured curiosity.

One day, he asked someone to write Marathi barakhadi, on board. Naturally the fellow forgot ऋ and लृ. We too did not realise. Someone tried to help, but he wrote those letters after अं and अ:. Sir did not leave a chance to criticise ‘so-called’ Balmohan students and taught us the correct sequence of barakhadi उ,ऊ,ऋ,लृ, ए, ऐ . So also, how the pronunciation of ऋ is close to ‘रि’ (instead of Ru in Marathi) and that of ज्ञ like ‘ज्न्य’ (and not dny). He also taught us difference in the pronunciation of –less words and –ness words. So also words like ‘little’. We were so burdened with Marthi and the diction of English was so poor and unnecessarily clear. He was the first one to bring the awareness that English needs to be spoken in English and not Angrezi.

Famous author in Marthi literature, P.L. Deshpande, he is famous for his humorous style. But Limaye sir brought to our notice Deshpande’s  skills of observation, his insights in music and also his contribution in social work. We got to know so many things from Limaye Sir, Be it Oppenheimer’s comment, ’brighter than thousand Suns or America’s Maya’, Inca, Aztec civilizations’ or ‘Neonatologist’ is a specialist doctor looking after only new-borns. Sir’s teaching had no boundries of curriculum/ syllabus.

He used to conduct long sessions on Sunday morning from 08:00 to 12:30. Those were like being in Alibaba’s den. Whatever Ranade Sir had instructed us on day one, we forgot it categorically and happily!

I remember he had taught us Rudyard Kipling’s poem, ‘If’ (If you can keep your head…) He cited an example for one of the verses, imagine an artist invests 12 hrs in making a rangoli, only to realize the following morning that a cat has walked over it. Imagine how saddened s/he  would be. Once a topic of Marathi opened up, we had a chapter on a story called “Vijaystambh (statue of victory)”. I remember his words, “when the shadows get longer than the hight of man, be sure, the sunset  is near”. He also kept saying, ‘however great a man can be, but his foot is always on ground’.

Once the discussion went to the SSC board and its office located in sion. In Marathi, its called (Sheev). Now what is Sheev, what if someone says it Shiv (rhasv). While talking about Mahatma Gandhi, he talked about Gandhi’s father, Karamchand. This word has come from Karmachandra. Then whats the meaning of Karmachandra? While appreciating Hridaynath Mangeshkar’s music composition, he could not ignore the tiny pause which should not have skipped in the famous composition of ‘Madhu maagashi mazya sakhya, pari..’ and how the meaning changed due to that. While talking about Deenaanaath, he made us wonder why it is not Deenanath. He always told that synonyms never exist in true sense. They always have a different shade. Language becomes rich when we understand that, and apply it. E.g. Praveen and Kushal though apparently mean the same, i.e.skilled, the context of using these adjectives is different. Write from Subhashit to bad words, nothing was banned in his classes. He took us to the depths of origins of these words. Like in Sanskrit the word Parn has given birth to Paan of Marathi via Pann. He also brought to our notice the cultural differences in North and South India and socio-political reasons behind it. I still remember him telling us that a lady from Punjab, while making a dough gets a hint of attack, will leave the work and pick up the gun. And since all major battles were tackled by North Indians, the aggression and insecurity has settled in them, long time. Whereas comparatively, south part of India remained peaceful, it got an opportunity to cultivate and preserve arts.

Once he forgot to show up on Sunday morning. Later, we came to know that it was a usual phenomena. Nex Sunday, without hesitation, we told him we had waited. We also mentioned we missed his class. He apologised immediately and gave his residential phone number. Every Saturday evening, thereafter we reminded him. It was rare to find such a person who would admit his mistake in front of students and would treat them so equally. It was the first time for me too, that I was calling a teacher on phone.

He used to feel distressed by our apathy and indifference towards classical music, dance forms. He thought the TV programs based on cinema music (Superhit Muqabala) were the culprit. He often made rash comments, “Keep watching those programs. Why bother about Music or Bharat muni and his drama? Sometimes he also gave us with Horse-ride/ chair-ride punishments (Pretend that u are sitting on a horse or a chair). He was Principal of Prabhu Seminary Highschool in Girgaum, and used tell us stories of his own students there.

All the subjects were open for discussion and debate in his classes, including his own life. He told us how much he used to read as a child. And there was no restriction on what to read. He used to buy good books from Pastiwala, the way he used to spend afternoons on chowpati, looking and bright light being reflected by water, in spite of having migraine, his love for banana (and the fruit seller telling him that extra ripe bananas are sold at a higher price because people make alcohol out of it), his love for the food, and the places he knew where to eat what, his glaucoma and chance of suffering from diabetes, his fear that in old age he should not lose his vision, (ears are still ok if gone), his love for his daughter, and criticism that world thinks only mother has a soft heart, the boiling milk getting spilled every morning in his house, and his wife fighting with him (who would pay attention to milk) and finally they settling by putting a spoon in milk vessel (so also, the scientific reason, why the milk is prevented from spilling out), and his dream to have a home away from crowd in Girgaum, where he will have all his books along, and lot of peace!

I met with Dr. Hemant Vinze because of him. I continued to be in touch with him through Viinze Sir. Later, sometime, I visited his Thane house with Aniket, for wedding invitation, and then met him in my marriage. After a few years, my mother-in-law’s friend told us, she was then learning Sanskrit from him. He used to teach Raghuvansh that time. I felt like visiting him again, but it never happened.

In that tender age, it was a blessing to receive guidance and education from a teacher like Limaye Sir! I was so influenced that time; probably I could have taken literature for further studies. My didi told me, we always feel that the teacher is great, when we are in his/her influence. But that was not true. Limaye Sir’s impact never faded.

When we started our new school, I tried contacting him and telling him about the project. And 15 days back, the news hit me that he is no more.

I had preserved my 10 th std Saraav class notebook nicely. Tried to search it, but in vein. Again, I remembered Limaye Sir. “What’s preserved in brain (his favourite word is takura) is more important. What is lost with the notebook is lost ultimately!”

I bow down to Limaye sir, probably for the first and the last time! Whatever bits I could take with my tiny hands and preserve safe in my limited brain, of all the ocean of treasure he offered to me, I will keep it safe. I will cherish all the memories, forever!