THE PHONE CALL came at 9.15 in the morning. It was Aditi. ‘Hey, what’s up?’ talking to an old friend is always a mood-uplifting experience. But my excitement was short-lived, for her voice appeared gloomy and distressed. ‘There’s a bad news. J. Roy Ma’am has passed away last night,’ was all she could say.
Silence. An intense painful silence. Words didn’t occur to me. Instead, images flashed through my mind. I toddled back in time. Year 2001. Class X. That’s me, sitting on the third bench. It’s the Maths period, but Ma’am hasn’t yet come to the class. Everyone is busy chatting, giggling and playing pranks on one another. Suddenly J. Roy Ma’am enters. Within a split of a second the atmosphere transforms. There’s now a pin-drop silence in the classroom. Everyone takes out his exercise copy like an obedient student and starts noting down the sums that Ma’am has written on the blackboard. Any attempt at whispering or looking at each other’s copies is met with a stern glance from Ma’am. Always.
That was our J. Roy Ma’am. Strict, disciplined, uncompromising, yet at the same time lovable and endearing. She knew how to take the best out of any student. In school, we had a habit of calling the teachers as ‘Miss’. So invariably Mrs. Jhara Roy ended up being called J. Roy Miss!
Ma’am used to take our Maths and Chemistry classes. But that wasn’t all. She had an amazing grasp on every other subject and whenever she took substitution classes for History, Bengali or English, we used to listen more attentively than we did in the regular classes. In every event and activity of the school, it was J. Roy Ma’am who took the lead. Be it the Sports Day, Annual Function or even smaller occasions like Children’s Day and Teacher’s Day, her involvement in every part of the programme was outstanding. From deciding which dance recital would be performed to selecting the costumes of the drama characters, J. Roy Ma’am was our Man Friday. The Principal too was quite fond of her. No other teacher (yes, I dare say that) commanded the kind of respect, admiration and love from the students that Ma’am did.
I was quite weak in Maths during my schooldays and managed to get pretty average marks in exams. That’s why in the year of my Boards, I decided to take private tuitions from Ma’am like many other students of my class. It was there that I discovered a different J. Roy Ma’am — not the angry lady I used to be so afraid of in school, but the motherly woman who chats and shares a joke with her students as we do with friends. Not just studies, Ma’am was concerned about our likes and dislikes too. Our Saturday tuitions used to stretch for almost four hours in the morning. So before leaving, we all used to munch on the shingara, labangalatika and jilipi ordered by Ma’am for us. Every week.
During the final months before Boards, Ma’am used to call two students everyday to her house for special Maths classes. They came in the morning, stayed the entire day practising sums and left in the evening. When my turn came, the day turned out to be more memorable than I had expected. I had so much fun at her place. We studied, chatted, had lunch together, took a little rest and then studied again. At lunch, she served us chicken but didn’t take it herself. When we asked about her share, she replied, ‘Kal Sunday chilo. Tai chicken korechilam. I knew you two would be coming today. So I had kept aside some of it for you.’
We must get up at 6 in the morning and study late in the night — was her strict order. In fact, Ma’am used to call up at everyone’s house early in the morning as well as late at night to ensure that we follow her instructions. I don’t know any other teacher to have done that. She even made us a routine as to what subject we should study and when. I still remember Ma’am told me one day, ‘Abhijit, you’ve the potential to score good in Maths. If others can, why can’t you? Try and I know you’ll succeed. Prove others that you can do it.’ I did, and the 84 percent that I got in the Boards, I owe it completely to that woman named Jhara Roy. After passing out, my visits to her house became infrequent. But whenever we used to meet, she was very inquisitive of knowing how well her students are doing in their lives.
Ma’am wasn’t keeping well for quite some time. Before leaving Kolkata, I visited her and gave her the news of my admission in a film school and my shifting to Noida. She looked pale, washed out and skeletal. She could barely speak and had lost all hopes of recovery. Yet she smiled. She was happy — for me, for my success, for those countless students she had devoted her life to.
Today morning when I got the news, I wish I was there in Kolkata. I wanted to see her for one last time. I couldn’t. But then deep down in my heart, I felt proud. Proud to be a student of Mrs. J. Roy. Of all the teachers I’ve come across so far, she’s the one I’ve respected and loved the most, and will continue to do so forever. J. Roy Ma’am wasn’t just my Maths teacher, but a lot more than that. She taught me to be a better person — a better human being.
So this post comes as a tribute to the finest teacher I’ve ever seen. Thank you Ma’am for being there, for guiding me... for everything. I’ll forever cherish those memories I had in your class. Love you a lot. May your soul rest in peace.
