Going back to school
The other day I went to my college. The atmosphere and the experience can be best described as surreal. It has been many years since I finished my graduation and the building has changed a bit over the years. The students still crowd the corridors but they appear stylishly different. Ringing of cell phones is something that I do not connect with college. The oily spring rolls have been replaced by sugar coated doughnuts and Nescafe iced tea has replaced the bottled cold coffee. But some things, like attending lectures, do not change.
I sat in the last row of the classroom trying my best to blend into the environment. Girls walked in slowly; some murmuring greetings, some looking disinterested, some absorbed in themselves. The sound of chairs being pulled back, ruffling of sheets, and screeching of pens as they hurried across the lined pages of the registers taking down the notes was nothing less than what can be called déjà vu. However, what differed was my interest in the lecturer.
She stood there trying to explain the steepness of slope and the multiplier formula to the girls. In her floral kurti, colored beads hanging around her neck, she looked every bit like a Macro Economics teacher. She pushed her hair back and encouraged the girls to speak as she discussed the GDP in a closed economy. I sat there admiring her, almost in awe. The fact that I was able to solve a numerical in her class after years of gap of studying the subject is totally credited to her simplified explanations.
You can call me biased because this lecturer is my best friend but hey, it does take a lot to cover the distance from the benches of a classroom to the blackboard. And sumthn2say has covered it beautifully.
I sat in the last row of the classroom trying my best to blend into the environment. Girls walked in slowly; some murmuring greetings, some looking disinterested, some absorbed in themselves. The sound of chairs being pulled back, ruffling of sheets, and screeching of pens as they hurried across the lined pages of the registers taking down the notes was nothing less than what can be called déjà vu. However, what differed was my interest in the lecturer.
She stood there trying to explain the steepness of slope and the multiplier formula to the girls. In her floral kurti, colored beads hanging around her neck, she looked every bit like a Macro Economics teacher. She pushed her hair back and encouraged the girls to speak as she discussed the GDP in a closed economy. I sat there admiring her, almost in awe. The fact that I was able to solve a numerical in her class after years of gap of studying the subject is totally credited to her simplified explanations.
You can call me biased because this lecturer is my best friend but hey, it does take a lot to cover the distance from the benches of a classroom to the blackboard. And sumthn2say has covered it beautifully.