The Teacher Who Inspired Me

The Teacher Who Inspired Me

This Teachers’ Day, Sunday Times shines a light on educationists who inspired some of the leading lights of our generation

Learning the value of common salt, and excellence

NR Narayana Murthy,

Founder, Infosys

My belief is that a nation is only as good as its culture. Its achievements in every field — science, arts, sports, economy and education — are dependent on the kind of culture its citizens have embraced. There are several factors that influence the formation of a desirable culture — societal leaders, family, teachers, bosses, co-workers and friends. Family elders and early teachers play a crucial role in forming the culture of a person. I believe that primary and secondary school teachers have the biggest influence on the impressionable minds of youngsters. My culture was very heavily influenced by my parents, a secondary school teacher, an engineering college professor, and, most importantly, my boss at the Indian Institute of Management, Ahmedabad. I must confess that the actions of these people rather than their words were what left an indelible mark on my psyche.

Sri K V Narayan (KVN), my high school headmaster at Sharada Vilas High School, Mysore during 1959-1961, taught me the most important lesson which came in handy in founding and nurturing Infosys between 1981 and 2014. One day about sixty years ago, KVN was conducting a Chemistry experiment with common salt. KVN was extremely careful in minimising the amount of common salt he poured into the test tube. My friend, sitting next to me, burst out laughing. KVN asked my friend what made him laugh. Children are generally honest. My friend said he found it bizarre to watch KVN being so stingy with inexpensive common salt. KVN said that the common salt he used was a community property, it belonged to everybody in the school, and it was the duty of every member of the school to treat it with utmost care. KVN further offered to take my friend to KVN’s own home after the classes were over, and give my friend a jar full of common salt free since it was KVN’s personal property. By his action, KVN wrote indelibly, on a set of impressionable young minds, that a society would make progress only when its citizens treat community property more carefully than they treat their private property. The strong force for the successful Infosys journey from 1981 to 2014 was our conviction that putting the interest of Infosys in our decisions today would lead to the betterment of every Infoscion tomorrow. Alas, KVN is no more.

Dr N Krishna Murthy (NK) was my teacher at the National Institute of Engineering, Mysore, between 1962 and 1967. NK was excellence-personified in everything he did — his eloquence; his subject matter expertise; his passion to make the dullest student understand every bit of what he taught in the classroom; his beautiful handwriting on the blackboard; and how hard he prepared for his lecture. When I asked NK why he was obsessed with excellence, he said he had experienced several extraordinary teachers in the US when he was a doctoral student, and that he wanted to be the best teacher in the entire world and not just in India. The initial seeds of the quest for global excellence of Infosys were sown in me by him. My respects to him.

Prof. Krishnayya (JGK), my boss and a professor at the Indian Institute of Management-Ahmedabad (IIMA), imparted several lessons on leadership to me. The most important lesson JGK taught me was the importance of starting every transaction on a zero base. One morning in 1970, he and I had a strong and angry disagreement on an issue. That evening, at 5 pm, he came to my room in a happy mood and invited me for a dinner. His demeanor was as if nothing had happened in the morning. I was flabbergasted. I asked him sheepishly whether he was not angry with me. He said he had forgotten that incident. He explained why it was important to start every transaction on a zero base and not carry the hysteresis of prior transactions to the current transaction. His advice to me was to live and learn. “Live and learn” is how I have tried my best to live life since then. I have committed many mistakes, introspected on them, learnt lessons, and tried my best not to repeat the same mistakes. JGK also taught me to use data and facts, and not opinions and biases, to decide each transaction; to hire juniors smarter than myself; and to create a hierarchy of ideas rather than a hierarchy of age and seniority in every discussion. JGK did not hector me about these lessons but etched them on my mind by his quiet actions. A Princeton professor, on a visit to Indian Institute of Technology, Kanpur, weaned me away from Control Theory to Computer Science. But, it was IIMA that added most to my development as a human being and as a professional. I thank teachers like JGK and Mohan Kaul, and colleagues like Subhash Bhatnagar, Late Rama Rao and Sharad Sharma for my development.

I have been lucky to know several respected leaders in many fields from all over the world. Many of these leaders have told me how their character was influenced by the actions of their teachers. No wonder, the 4,000-year-old Indian culture has immortalised the importance of teachers by the saying, ‘Acharya Devo Bhava’.

A heart surgeon should behave like a thief: Lesson from Mr Yates

Dr Devi Shetty, Chairman and Founder, Narayana Health

I owe my career to many teachers, but there is one person who made a huge difference in my life: my former boss Allen Yates, director of cardiac surgery at Guy’s Hospital, London, who trained me in 1980s, and under whom I worked as a registrar in cardio thoracic surgery.

When we do heart surgeries, it takes a minimum three hours, wherein, he would keep on talking about life. He once told me this as an important lesson for a heart surgeon: “When you open somebody’s chest, you should behave like a thief entering a house.” As I looked puzzled, he said, “The thief keeps the back door open, so that he can run away without getting caught, in case anyone finds him.”

Similarly in heart surgeries, the lesson is that one should keep the back door open. It’s better not to do the procedure and close the chest if the surgeon finds that the problem hasn’t been addressed, so that somebody more experienced can do the best thing for the patient. I am grateful to him for such insights.

When I told him that I was going back to India, he was disappointed. But he made it possible for me to get what I wanted in India. During my recruitment to a new Indian hospital, the owner of the hospital found me too young for heart surgery so Mr Yates even arranged for the owner to watch me doing a surgery at Guy’s Hospital. When I got an offer to head the cardiac unit in a Kolkata hospital, he even trained the entire operating staff for two months in Guy’s Hospital, London so that I could continue to work with the same team in India. He even sent five British nurses to manage the entire hospital for two years in Kolkata which made a huge difference.

When a prank gets thanks

Sadhguru, Founder, Isha Foundation

My most memorable teacher has been Miss Saraswati from Demonstration Multipurpose School in Mysore. I remember how I once pranked her. We were the first class that she handled and, being a new teacher, I am sure she was nervous. We wanted to do something to disrupt her life. She was talking to the class, facing the other side and leaning on my table. I felt inspired. I opened my pen and let out the ink on her starched white cotton saree, which very readily absorbed all of it. Of course, she did not notice. Probably someone in the staff room would have told her. After lunch hour, I was asked to come to the staff room. I went there, and she asked me for my pen. I gave it to her, thinking she was going to confiscate my empty pen as proof. She took out an ink bottle, filled my pen and gave it back to me. I said, ‘Thank you, ma’am,’ and went back to class. That one thing made me never forget that one teacher. There are many moments in school. Children should relish and enjoy all that because they don’t come back later.

Lillee: Legend with some life-changing advice

Javagal Srinath, Former cricketer

Since I was pursuing an engineering degree and cricket, there were many people who were instrumental in shaping my career and inspiring me. My club — Mysore Gymkhana had a huge impact on my life. My club secretary CS Subramanium was my real mentor. I could go to him for anything.

Australian legend Dennis Lillee was another great teacher. In the 1991-92 season, on my return from Australia, I took an eight-month break to go back to college. On my return, I played a domestic tournament. In a match, I went for 70 runs in 10 overs. It was a huge shock for me. After that, I went to the MRF Pace Foundation in Chennai to sort myself out. I couldn’t pitch in the right areas and the ball was all over the place. People started doubting my ability and even said the sting in my bowling was gone. Lillee said, ‘You bowl I’m watching you.’ After a few balls he told me, ‘You haven’t bowled for over six months and without practice for so long, nobody in this world can put the ball in the right areas.’ To grow, you need that kind of advice, and the mind to accept it.

Mother as well as chess guru

Viswanathan Anand, Five-time world chess champion

My first teacher (my mother) was also the one who had the greatest influence on me. She was the one who taught me the game and made sure I went to a chess club. The simple rules she told me at the beginning are still very important. One was to go and play as often as possible. That advice is golden and is still true till this day. The more you play, the more you practice and the better you get. The second was that she encouraged me to learn from my mistakes. The way she put it was: after a game write down your thoughts quickly and do this in a disciplined way. This is incredibly useful if you want to analyse and see where you can improve. It is difficult to separate out what my mother inspired me as a teacher and as a mother, but these are things I remember the most and I still think it’s the best advice I got.

Importance of admitting your mistakes

Soumya Swaminathan,

Chief Scientist, WHO

One of the lessons I learnt from my class teacher when I was in Class 11 was the importance of being truthful to yourself and to others. She taught us to believe in what we said, and to admit when we go wrong in our judgement. She told us to take the responsibility and have the willingness to correct our views if there was new evidence, data or if some confronted us with facts. She taught us to be humble enough to accept mistakes and graciously accept the right view. This is a life lesson I learnt from my teacher Rosline Wilson when I was in Springdales School in Delhi.

Sparking curiosity in learning

Kiran Mazumdar-Shaw,

Founder, Biocon

I consider myself lucky to have had Neville Gower as one of my lecturers at the Ballarat College of Advanced Education in Melbourne, Australia, from where I graduated as a Master Brewer in 1975. Mr Gower, who taught us brewing fermentation and bio-engineering, once said: “Science is about curiosity-driven learning, and unless you are curious, you will never find science exciting.”

Those words are etched in my mind even today and have been formative in guiding me through every step of my entrepreneurial journey and moulding me as an independent thinker both personally and professionally. His words are behind my firm belief that India needs an education system that facilitates curiosity-driven education, where students are encouraged to explore and experiment, to think differently, to develop their own perspective and personality. This Teacher’s Day, I hope curiositybased learning will drive the pedagogy in our schools.

The four teachers who spotted something that others didn’t

Amit Chaudhuri, Author

There are four teachers who have inspired me through different stages of my life as a student. First, Mr Elisha, my history teacher at Cathedral School (Mumbai) who also taught me English. I wasn’t a very serious student and disliked school intensely but Mr Elisha — an erudite and elegant man from Kerala with a wonderful sense of irony — was very kind towards me and my writing. Not in a charitable sense but in terms of affection and respect, something one doesn’t usually feel from teachers who either patronise or reward you. In the school leaving character certificate that teachers mandatorily write for students, Mr Elisha wrote a little essay about what he thought of me. He was the only person in school who found something valuable in the person I was and that makes me think of him with affection and gratitude.

Next is Dan Jacobson, South African novelist at University College, London who became my tutor in my final year there. I was leading a life of utter eccentricity, never attending classes but he was extremely kind about me and my writing abilities. Two weeks before I graduated, I found out that he had been passing my essays to Karl Miller, head of the department and editor of the London Review of Books. In a life of complete loneliness and not having any plans, this was extraordinary generosity.

Pt Govind Prasad Jaipurwale was a teacher from whom I received the idea of subtlety of style and taiyyari in Hindustani classical music and his brother-in-law Hazarilalji became a midwife in my process of learning the complexities. He even sat for hours to tape thekas for me on a cassette for my practice on the eve of my departure to England. What was important in the gestures of all four was their ability to spot certain qualities not visible to others but could mean a lot to the student.

Shaped by the screen

Manish Malhotra, Fashion designer

Growing up, my most prominent teacher has been the movies. Films have been my primary inspiration; between the age of 5-15, I made it a point to watch every single movie released in the theatres of Bandra, and multiple times if I liked them. From the colours, clothes, makeup, music to the story, everything about it amazed me. Eventually, I picked up a new perspective every time I exited a cinema hall, thereby unknowingly honing my skills in fashion. Add to it my love for painting and modelling in my college days that helped me evolve in the practical world and enter the industry, where I continue to share the same love and passion for the films and my craft where I learn something new everyday.

FROM THE ALBUM: Murthy mounting a magnetic tape at the IIMA computer center in 1970