What should youngsters really aspire for over just looking good?

I come from Mount Carmel School (MCS), which was, at least then (2002), small, both in terms of area and student headcount. Academically too, we were, perhaps, an inch behind schools with the more ?happening? student crowds. The one thing my school excelled in was discipline?you had to be on time for school assembly, in well-pressed uniform in the exact prescribed shades of olive-green for trousers/skirts, and cream-white for shirts. Even when you were okay on these, you couldn?t afford to forget your house batch and your little blue hymn-book. The principal, Dr VK Williams, had prepared us for challenges in ways we could?ve then never imagined.

Stepping out of MCS, with a bag of mixed feelings of apprehension and excitement, my walk into a newer life in Hans Raj college (Delhi University) had given perspective to all the implicit learning I was already carrying with myself, the worth of which I understood when I met some students and, unfortunately, even teachers who showed by example what lack of discipline meant. For instance, for a subject titled Economic History of India, in my first year, I clearly remember wanting to attend lectures of the instructor in the other section because the one allotted to mine was on leave. The first three times, he simply didn?t show up despite being officially present. His generally low attendance made it hard to get in touch with him for the permission to attend his talk. When I waited the fourth time in the classroom with the very friends who had recommended that I attend his classes, he finally showed up. Because my friends were also the only students who believed that he was worth attending (four of them out of 35 in their section), it became obvious to him that I was an outsider. ?Today you can sit, but don?t make this a habit?I get paid to teach only one section,? he told with an arrogant lilt. It was clear that the petty thrill he got out of this was significantly high relative to what he had been able to achieve until well past his prime. He perhaps forgot that what he had to offer could only fill up a seventh of the classroom?s seating capacity, even after having an outsider. Needless to say, he eventually lost our respect.

A second example is of another DU instructor who assured me that she?ll help me edit two of my articles, and thereafter didn?t bother to get in touch with me until I felt the need to contact her because the deadline was approaching, only to find out that nothing had been done. She was indifferent and wasn?t even apologetic, but was sure to point out that I use jargon in my writings when my articles got published. I just smiled and responded, ?You had the chance to edit them.?

It is really sad that DU has such people. The job pays well and most of them just have to engage in a venture lacking in merit: looking good in front of students who?re mostly constrained in experience in the art of telling glass from diamond?the sole source of respect for parasites. Add to it, the impossibility of making them feel the importance of responsibility, reliability and accountability: a few basic elements of discipline. Impossibility because, as ironical as it sounds, the one always in darkness can?t describe or define what darkness itself is, for he has never seen the light. It is like asking Abbott?s Flatlander to imagine in three dimensions. Discipline, to them, therefore is an alien concept, understanding which requires a minimum level of imagination. It is, thus, in a sense, unfair to expect them to feel apologetic, for most of their mental growth, perhaps, happened in a circle with nobody worth looking up to.

Fortunately, even in the presence of parasites, there were those very few teachers who made the DU experience memorable for me. Contrary to the generally-held belief, it is the strict teachers who are more capable of coming close to their students. Think about it, if something bothers you and you want to discuss it with a teacher, you look for a no-nonsense conversation: the minimum that a strict teacher guarantees. Dr Rachna Sharma was and still is that teacher to me, a second name for dedication. She was the convenor of Swaranjali, as she had fondly named the music society. Unlike in MCS, where discipline was externally imposed as a set of rules, she channelised our inner passion towards music to generate discipline amongst ourselves. We held regular college auditions, selected students and the society she started grew from just three students to over 15 by the time I was in my second year. Once she told us what to perform, we were at it?we stayed back regularly after our classes and practised hard till 5:00 pm. Each member had something to contribute, starting from inputs on refining our renditions ? and soon we were one of the best music societies of DU. Today, Rachna ma?am is battling cancer, and plans to finish off a book of all her poetry for publication. When I casually asked her to take it easy, she responded, ?That is out of the question; if my sickness is doing what it can, it is only fitting that I too do what I can.? I remained silent, reminding myself that this is the same person who would do something for you even when under the weather, simply because she promised in the affirmative when you asked. The meaning of passion became clear. Why Dr Anil Kokrady, our Microeconomics instructor, or Ms Anjali Khurana, our Systems instructor, always showed up in class on time and entertained student queries even beyond the classroom became clearer. Why professors here at the Indian Statistical Institute happily welcome students who?re eager to learn, even if they?re from elsewhere; or why Sachin Tendulkar is always the first to show up on the nets, became clearer still. There are many elements to discipline, but passion will always remain the key element.

The point made in this article can also be understood in the context of the Delhi rape-victim story. The criminals whose actions stirred the crowd with intensified emotions and feelings of justice (passion, by definition) will be severely dealt with, most likely, in the immediate future, with unforgiving eyes. We hope this will lead, the perverted minds, to discipline themselves before they even think of bringing such cruelty in their action. Again, passion in the crowd will be the key to discipline in the crowd.

The author is a research scholar (PhD Economics) at the Indian Statistical Institute, New Delhi. He is also member, Scottish Economic Society; committee member, American Statistical Association; and member, Royal Economic Society of England. Views are personal