I found a new message in Instagram from a stranger once a couple of years ago. I was wary, of course, but the way she had worded the message intrigued me.
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| Aptly, Buddha in the background |
I saw her DP and knew that I didn't know her. I shared it with my mom, asking her if she recalled this person. "Yes, of course, she and her sister used to learn music when she was in school," she said.
So I responded, amazed that she had made the connection. I told her that my mom remembered her and asked her about what she was doing now.
She told me that she was married and lived abroad. That it's been 16 years, but even now when she sang, she would remember my mom.
Hearing her sing, she was encouraged by her friends to resume learning. But, though she had, the new teacher was nothing like my mom. "I missed her very much. So I started searching for Mam's name in google. It gave me the link to the video you uploaded in 2017 saying my mother."
That led her to looking for me on Insta and reaching out when she did.
I was touched and proud, of course.
But this is not the first time I have heard about mom's teaching methdology. Many of her students in later years were women working for a government office, taking time off during lunch to learn. They all remain in touch whenever they can, ever grateful to her for trusting in them and giving them opportunities to give public performances. One lady even told me, "I was told I could never learn how to pace my singing. But your mother taught me all about talam. Even my nephew (a renowned artist) is amazed."
And, most just love her for her cheerful and positive manner.
Teaching is an art. Sometimes, it is not so much about making someone perfect as inspiring them to discover themselves and keep pursuing the journey so that they can excel. I found that kind of an approach in the Montessori system when my kids were studying there. My own dance teachers have shown me the way while being very patient with my errors and oversights. It gave me confidence and the desire to do better.
Many of my mother's students may not have continued learning music itself. But uniformly one thing they say about her - across ages, including a college going girl recently - that some word she drops while teaching helps them deal with their own life and its challenges better. That they enjoy the class not just for the music, but because it cheers them up, makes them feel confident, believe in themselves.
The original conversation with the student happened quite a while ago. I was reminded of this recently when one of my friends sent me a link about a story challenge - to write about two women in a conversation that is not about a man. I thought this was a good topic. An inspiring teacher and mentor who turned a student's life.
But as I mulled over it, I wondered why it had to be a fiction. It happened in real. It happens constantly. I keep having conversations with my mom's students who time and again mention this. Why make it a story and let the person behind it slip into a vague, idyllic world?
Recently, many would have seen a video about toxic gurus. That is also a reality. But so is this.
She is real. She is here.
And anybody can be her too.
A teacher is in a unique position to not only share a talent or a skill. That is a technique and important. But not enough.
Those who learn do so because they don't know what you know about the art. Be kind and share. But, more importantly, many could be young and lost too. Be there for them, anchoring them not just in the art, but also revealing its subtle power and divinity that can lead us through challenging times with greater equanimity.
Be a mentor, a friend, philosopher and guide.
Give love. Be loved.
