Life's Characters - Omkar

Picture courtesy - http://www.cartoonaday.com/tag/job-interview/

I voluntarily teach ‘Spoken English’ to underprivileged youngsters as part of a project. I have been doing this for the last 8-9 months now. But this was the first time I was presented the opportunity to screen learners for a batch, to select them for the class. Hitherto, learners were present in the class and I had only to teach them.

Not everyone who came for the screening was selected. A basic knowledge of English was required and those who registered for the course were interviewed through a small test, to gauge their limited speaking abilities in the language, to comprehend if they would participate in class and how keen they were in learning the language and how much it would help in their day to day life. It was made clear to them that they had to speak in the interview and more so ‘only in English’, else they would not get selected.

It was a truly enriching experience, this first screening of mine. And I particularly write about a boy Omkar who appeared for the test; a lanky adolescent aged around 19. We made him read a sentence and he read it effortlessly. He was then shown a picture of a temple and worshippers and was asked to talk about the picture.

Omkar: Temple...God....Ganpatti

Me: Can you try and speak in sentences Omkar, this is a temple....

And he tried but what he spoke was indubitably miserable. I understood everything he said, or rather was trying to say, but that was not the point. I knew he wouldn’t get selected and maybe, by then, he knew too, but the poor lad wouldn’t give up. It was evident that every piece he tried to deliver had a battle raging in his head. He knew what he wanted to speak but the words evaded him, maybe the words weren’t there and his struggle made his hands dance to compete and complete, to stress what his mouth couldn’t eject. He fumbled, he stammered, but he went on. From the picture of the temple, he moved on to talk about his village temple and the grand prasadam organised every Tuesday.

He went on for quite some time and we didn’t have the heart to stop him but not a single correct sentence, not a single complete one and still he kept at it. His face, his eyes manifested a strange seriousness and slight fear. His fervour to answer was such that his life depended on it. He wanted to pass; he was desperate to join the course, to improve his English. This was an opportunity he wanted to grab with both hands. When he spoke, his eyes reflected that small glint of hope, they were screaming, “I want to join this course, I want to better myself, I want to show the world I can”. He didn’t want to give up till all his pawns and horses and elephants and camels were back in the box. I was amazed at his temerity when others would so easily give up.

Hearing him speak and looking at his hopeful yet cautious face, I was finding it difficult to concentrate; like rays and rats, thoughts were racing through my head. How difficult it would be for youngsters like Omkar to be in their colleges, in their work places with all the myriad confrontations, when they failed to strike a conversation, to be in a conversation. Imagine the rebuke and reproach they would be facing day after day and this is not an exaggeration because I have heard first hand experiences. Indubitably smart otherwise, they would probably have all the answers but the inability to mouth them could be so frustrating. I can only attempt to imagine the angst that these situations could provoke. And what about their confidence? Probably being shattered and diminished each single day. I really felt for the likes of Omkar who had most of the answers but probably not that many opportunities in life. Impecuniousness has its own slaves.

In contrast, I thought about some of the volunteers of the same age who had undergone training to be teachers. The other side of the coin! How easy it was, how impeccable their English was and how articulately they spoke. How privileged they have been, we have been to receive this formal education, how effortless it is for us to communicate and how conventional it is for us to dream big when we have no dearth of options and opportunities and the only dilemma is to choose from them. How many of us realize how privileged we are? While learners like Omkar would possibly be uncomfortable and apprehensive facing such articulately speaking teachers, some teachers would probably dread having learners like him, not because they won’t be able to teach but possibly the student may not be able to learn which acts as a failure on the teacher’s part too.

At times, in my classes, when my learners failed to provide the right structures, the right sentences, I invariably thought they lacked seriousness. But I realise now that though it may be true for some, it may not be so for others. No one wants to give a wrong answer when they know the right one. A mistake can’t be deliberate, and if it’s deliberate, it can’t be called a mistake. I need to be more patient and keep going at it like Omkar did. Thanks Omkar for teaching me this!

“Thank you sir” he smiled and shook hands before he left.