Shoeshine Revelation

It was 8:40 in the morning and I was running late for the 8:45 appointment with my orthodontist. I rushed to the garage, grabbed my brown leather shoes from the dishelved and overflowing shoe rack. I dashed back to the sofa in the family room. Sinking my 160 pounds of cosmic matter into the comforts of plush black leather, I bent down to wear my shoes. The routine of morning rush had taken full control over my awareness. But then, suddenly, I stopped. I noticed the blemishes and nicks that covered my shoes in a display of my worldly whereabouts over the past few days.

That just wasn’t right! I felt this strong disassociation between my being and the shoes that were about to adorn it. Every cell in my body screamed “no!” The shoes did not look right! Almost involuntarily, I switched modes to the logical. I know I am running late and my shoes are not right. Does it make sense to make time for a quick shoe shine? As I was conducting this debate with myself, my hands, still under the influence of  morning rush, I managed to get my socks and shoes in position to meet the challenges of the road ahead. But the rational side of me, in its state of methodical inquiry, was met with immediate annihilation by the stronger inner emotional voice: “Polished shoes!” it asserted.

In subdued response, I dashed back into the garage to my neglected shoe rack and fumbled in the dark for the shoe polish kit. Ah, I found it! Back on the sofa, I opened the polish can and swiped the sponge applicator through its buttery brown contents. I quickly started to spread the pleasant smelling brown polish onto the leather of my shoes. Oh, it felt so good! The blemishes and nicks started to disappear little at a time. I saw my shoes transforming themselves into respectable attire, the way they should be. Then I briskly polished them with the sponge. Their true beauty emerged, one stroke at a time. I felt the broken connection between my personality and my shoes reestablish itself with each stroke of polish. Eventually, all the assumed confusion about my identity was put to rest and suddenly normalcy was restored. Shoes shining, I was ready to take on the world!

Just at that moment and in a flash of revelation, I laughed to myself, about myself. When did the state of my shoes start to have a grip on me? The answer just popped out – since my school days! Growing up, I was required to wear uniform to school – khaki pant and shirt, blue tie, black socks and shoes. The shoes had to be polished to a glitter or else I had to face the wrath of the Principal. A ritual it was to polish my shoes every time its glitter wore off, which was every 2 or 3 days. Thinking back, the shoes did look really good when polished and I took pride in wearing them so. I did that for several years through school. I guess I brought that habit, and much more, into adulthood, well embedded in my sub-conscious.

In retrospective, what transpired in my life between 1973 and 1978 when I attended Christ Church High School, in Chennai (erstwhile Madras), India, was nothing short of divine intervention delivering blessings, wisdom and knowledge through a special group of people known as my teachers. Dedicated, persistent, loving and selfless, my teachers gave of themselves to me and my fellow students, day after day. Mr. David Samuel, Mr. David Abraham, Mr. Shepherd, Mr. Jocelyn James, Mr. Anthony, Mrs. Starling, Mrs. Shandy, Mrs. Jaysing, Ms. Shika and many more, unbeknownst to them, were shaping me to be the person I have come to be over the years. Today I enjoy the fruits of their great services and sacrifices as I propagate those pleasant experiences and wisdom through my spheres of influence. I will have not lived fully and correctly if I did not express my heartfelt gratitude to my high school teachers. Let me start with the Principal, Mr. David Samuel.

Class of 78, Christ Church High School, Madras

Seemingly strict, Mr. David Samuel was but a kind soul. Always precise and to the point, he was the embodiment of punctuality. He was well known for directing fantastic Shakespearean plays with Christ Church Alumni and staging them at the lovely Museum Theater in Madras. What amazed me and others was that he would announce that the program would end at exactly “8:58 PM”. Guess what – the program always ended at 8.58 PM. He taught us good manners, stage etiquette and even the right way to serve a cup of tea. He was an awesome teacher of the Bible and matters academic. He taught the power of mnemonics to remember anything. If you ask me the names of the 3 major rivers in Siberia, that I learned in high school 36 years ago, I still remember them because of the mnemonic “OYL” – Ob, Yenisei and Lena! I have used this trick throughout my life to remember so many important things. Mr. Samuel – it’s dangerously awesome!! Incredibly innovative, he taught how to remember the relative spatial orientations of major cities in the world using a cloth duster and a piece of chalk as today’s GPS devices. He drove around town with  Mrs. Samuel in a black Morris Minor, played the piano with unbridled passion and served his students and teachers with tough love and dedication.

Mr. Samuel, you led a group of children to appreciate each other for what they were irrespective of their religious orientations.  Even as the Principal of an Anglo-Indian School, you fostered an environment where children and teachers of all faiths could work and learn together. Today the world is fighting and killing each other on the basis of religious differences. What religious difference did we know of in school? Muslims, Hindus, Christians, Jains – children from all religious upbringings stood next to each other every morning and sang hymns in the praise of the Lord. Not once did I feel any pressure or coercion on my religious stance as a Hindu. Mr. Samuel, how did you manage to foster such a secular and loving environment in school? Thank you, Sir, for teaching me how to love and respect a human being in his or her essence without being misled by superficial societal and religious attributes. And thank you for teaching me to strive for the best in everything – attitude, clothes, shoes and all!!

Last year I had the opportunity to visit the ruins in Delphi, Greece. Delphi, in those days, was the intellectual capital, attracting Greek scholars of the likes of Aristotle and Socrates to present their scholarly work to fellow scholars and eager students. I stood in the middle of the famed Delphi Auditorium for a moment reveling in contemplation of all the intellectual richness that lay hidden in the ruins. The classrooms of Christ Church High School of yester years are but ruins today. As one side of me sympathizes with the current state of the school building, the other side remembers and rejoices the eternity of the knowledge and love that was exchanged between teachers and students when the building was once a pantheon of learning. Christ Church High School is my Delphi!

Mr. Samuel – I salute you and thank you from the bottom of my heart for the immeasurable richness that you have blessed me through an awesome institution called Christ Church High School. The journey of learning that started many years ago under your tutelage has given me a purpose in life to enrich others through selfless service, sharing and nurturing while enjoying every living moment.

What used to be my 9th Std. classroom.

What used to be the corridor of classrooms Std. 7th through 11th.

 

The ruins of Delphi, Greece – what used to be the home of great teachers, scholars and students