And so as we went up the long stairway to hell's kitchen in the pleasant warmth of the feeble winter sun in the midst of the misty air with a full stomach, I really felt it. That pang of fear deep in there, right in your heart. Friday Afternoon's were the same. The food I had just consumed would soon be digested, very quickly.
As I trudged, I mechanically took out a white coat, popularly called lab coat, a hopelessly incomplete, abnormally large book, known as record, and a few rough sheets, also known as observation book, albeit temporarily.
I walked in. Phew, lack of observation book not noticed!!!
I picked up my salts, my nose slowly adjusting to the rather nauseating smell of the chemistry lab and eyes doing likewise to the formidable appearance of a chemistry teacher.
Ten minutes later, we were all at work. Test tubes were frothing, gases were fuming, though the chemistry teacher was doing it the most. And right in the midst of it all, "All of you! Stop whatever you are doing and come here" she boomed.
We herded like sheep, literally stopping everything we were doing, breathing included. Someone had messed, royally judging by her voice.
And as the poor student recited his tragedy of events, we all shuddered. We were no different. We had each done the same mistake, most of us atleast.
And after the poor guy recites his story, of failure to add the right chemical at the right time, she turns around, looks each one of us in the eye, and asks, "He is a STUPID fellow. Why?"
PIN. DROP. SILENCE!!!!
One brave smart ass answers, Ma'am, he didn't add this at this time blah blah. We nod vaguely. Bravery is not so contagious.
LOUDLY. I WANT THE ANSWER. WHAT HAS HE DONE WRONG.
"He had to add this at this time to get this colour blah blah........" Phew, the smart ass had done it. And as he was profusely thanked by her, we would convey our gratitude in while.
SO, she boomed suddenly, cutting short our reverie, IF I CALL YOU TO MY HOUSE FOR DINNER AND GIVE YOU ONLY RICE FOR DINNER, WILL YOU EAT?? "WILL YOU EAT?"
Phew, this question was easier. "No ma'am" we answered in unison.
So, if you show me the experiment without adding HNO3 and heating, how can I accept it??
Madness you might think, but it isn't. It's how we are taught. And curiously enough, we remember fondly these moments in the chemistry lab. The equations, the reactions, the colours of precipitates, maybe forgotten a week later, you maybe the next victim. But you can never forget those precious memories she has given you.
And yes, I have previously put her in bad light, called her, to quote myself "the monster class teacher". But to be completely true to myself, I must recall my words, for while my fear of her remains the same, my love for her increases with each passing moment. Amidst all her scoldings, screamings, blastings and glares, you can feel the genuine love and concern she disguises. You know she cares, and you do likewise.
And through her chemistry, through her daily rantings, she teaches us life, which is all that we have to learn, of which I am proud to say, I have learned a small bit from her. And boy, will I never forget it!!!!
And the bell rang, we sighed in relief. But it was all to happen the next week. "Thank you ma'am", we sang in unison. Rightly so.