I nervously scribbled her name in my notepad and in the brief interstice that followed, I mused (aloud), ‘Never did I think that a day shall come when I’ll pen your name in my interview journal’.

My trepidations weren’t baseless. Sitting in front of me was a dynamic woman in all her unconventional glory. She rides bikes, but drools over odes and ballads; she loves wearing pants, but also is fastidious about her sarees’ creases; she loves her very womanly role of a mother, yet wants to unfetter herself from the stereotypes; she fell in love with her mother-in-law and to her son, she married.

This woman is a bundle of contradictions. And this woman is my teacher – not from the recent times, but from the days of my childhood. Allow me to introduce, Dr. Shreya Chatterji, teacher and preacher of English literature.

As odd as it may sound, but I did begin my supposedly formal conversation with her like this:

Me: Tell me about yourself.

Shreya: I fancy myself both as a student and a teacher. I believe that it is imperative for a teacher to constantly unlearn the conventional methods of teaching that are handed down to them and reinvent themselves so as to make the process of learning more palatable for the students.

I couldn’t help but recollect a fresh classroom incident when Ma’am brought to our discernment some old cheesy Bollywood song to get the author’s point across. Hmmm. One amongst us also had the (mis)fortune of watching its video.

Me: Was teaching, or English literature, for that matter, always your first choice?

Shreya: Nope. I wanted to be a doctor by profession, and Biology was, still is, my favorite subject. But, I come from the generation where choices were made for us, not by us. My grandmother was a lecturer in English, and my mother was a teacher; teaching was handed down to me. I believe it was on my cards.

Me: And did you like this shift from science to literature?

Shreya: I hated literature at first! I didn’t know how to prevaricate, how to expand my answers so as to make them an English teacher worthy. You see, Priya, English teachers are very difficult to please.

Ah! I couldn’t have agreed more on that.

Shreya: … and as far as not becoming a doctor is concerned, well, I got a doctor prefix to my name, and I also married a doctor.

Me: So when exactly did you fall in love with literature? To which text do you give the credits of enchanting you?

Shreya: Umm, I would say a few teachers, got me to love this subject. When Prof. Sudha Rai, one of my teachers, took the first class, she transported us all into another world altogether. The kind of vocabulary she used, her turn of phrases and expressions, were so chic and stylish. For instance, if you were to say, I have a headache, Ma’am would say, Oh I’m negotiating a headache, today! I aspired to speak like that! So, for me, it was a teacher who initiated me into the subject.

And if you’re still keen on knowing my favorite text, it is Wuthering Heights.

Wuthering Heights is my favorite text too and it got me to fall in love with literature! Psst! Care for a piece of trivia? Shreya Ma’am taught me Wuthering Heights.

Me: So, other than literature, what other passions do you harbor?

Shreya: I am fond of cooking. I take myself to be a fantastic cook and if I were not to teach, I would be selling biryanis out of one of the classiest locations in Jaipur, where the waiters would be wearing beautiful lucknowi kurtas, instead of the regular pants and shirts.

Just as she said that, my imagination gave my mind a visual of scrumptious biryani, and my taste buds a tease. Whether that makes me a romantic, I do not know, but what I do know is that it makes me hungry, and forgetful of my next question.

Me: I have an inkling that you have a little something to do with music as well. Am I right?

Shreya: Umm, I was a B-Grade artist on All India Radio, and also worked as a TV anchor for Jaipur Doordarshan in my younger days. I sang for many serials, and had some cassette releases in the past. As of today, I must be having few recordings here and there, but I do them for personal gratification.

Me: That’s quite a secret you have up your Harley sleeve! What else are you hiding?

Shreya: A Royal Enfield, Yamaha 350, and Shogun, so to speak.

The two of us chuckled, and the Sherlock Holmes version of me unleashed itself by demanding details.

Shreya: I learnt to ride bikes in college, because I wanted to, but more so because I wanted to shatter the myth that one has to be tall and sturdy to be able to ride a bike.

Me: Riding a bike stands as one unfulfilled item on my wish list. Anyhoo, tell me more…

Shreya: I guess when I was a child I was too disappointed being a girl. When I realized there was no way I could be a boy, I saw in myself a fascination for all things that boys do. So perhaps one of those childhood fancies was to ride a bike. Secondly, I didn’t want to be a sissy.

But as I have grown up, I’ve come to value and appreciate my role as a woman. I love draping a saree, I love cooking, I treasure motherhood; perhaps all the conventional feminine roles. But I also like riding bikes, sporting a short hair-cut, wearing a pair of pants. These are roles that I juggle.

And I firmly believe that a woman’s femininity is not contingent upon her appearance. I like to challenge the conventional school of thoughts by being the contrast myself. I am a woman and I want to unfetter myself from the stereotypical moulds.

 Here’s an interesting piece of trivia! Most of the years of my childhood, I have seen Ma’am with short hair. After a time lapse when I met her in college, I was shocked, if not surprised, to witness her in an altogether different avatar. And today sitting in front of me is a whole new version.

Perhaps, that is the kind of elasticity she expects from herself.

Me: So while we are exploring this different side of your persona, let us talk about the most outrageous act of yours?

Shreya: Let me quote an incident. And before that I hope to dear god that the professor, let’s call her X, I am referring to does not read this blog. There was a certain conference where the intelligentsia from Delhi University was a part of the panel, and my friend was presenting her first ever research paper. Academicians hailing from Delhi tend to enjoy a haloed status and for lesser mortals like us, it becomes a rather challenging affair. So, even though my friend had done brilliantly (the audience vouched for it) the panel members ganged up against her.

You see Priya, conferences are about two things: one is academics, the other is the beauty of the saree that you’re wearing. So, the next day, we were planning to have a damaging impact on the glory of Prof. X’s saree, and to assure that the act couldn’t be traced back to us, we deployed two of our students. And lo and behold, came the opportune moment when student Y and student Z happened to spill a bowl full of raita over Mrs. X’s saree.

I went into a state of shock followed by a fit of laughter as the conversation progressed.

Shreya: Heaven hath no fury like the three of us friends scorned. The Charlie’s Angels work in a group!

Me: Pardon me for the usage of words, but I hereby declare you badass! (Also I’m going to steer clear of you, and raita, at conferences.)

Me: Oh, btw, while we are referring to sarees, please do tell me one thing earnestly. What’s with your obsession with white sarees? I rarely see you in any other color!

Shreya: Simply the fact that I love white as a color, and feel good about wearing it.

Me: How many of them do you have? Give me a number?

Shreya: Umm, I do not know accurately, but it is definitely more than 365. I don’t repeat my sarees in a year.

Me: *A bit perplexed* Okay, so what happens to them once they’re worn once?

Shreya: I get them dry-cleaned and store them. God has been gracious to bless me with an ancestral home with lots and lots of wardrobes. Tell you what? My dry-cleaner, he happens to drive an XUV. I think he has earned that out of me. Even though I drive a cheaper car, my drycleaner is making a fortune out of the money that I am earning.

Me: Hahahahahaha! How does your mother-in-law respond to the whole white obsession?

Shreya: Oh, she loves white on me as much as I do. My mother-in-law is the inspiration of my life, and it is for her that I got married.

Me: *By now, completely perplexed* Umm, what?

Shreya: When I met her, I had no clue I was going to be married to her son. She was my first boss. She took to me so much that she wanted me to marry her son. At that point of time I got married also because I didn’t know how to say no to her. I liked her so much. And that equation still remains. My husband is the only alien in this entire relationship. It’s a huge love triangle and I am excessively in love with my mother in law. Meanwhile, my husband and I co-exist.

Me: That is a difficult piece of information to digest.

Shreya: I know. And I also intend to get a tattoo done derived from my mother-in-law’s name.

Me: Do give us a call when you do that! Let’s talk about your daughters shall we? What are your aspirations for them?

Shreya: I want them to be good human beings, Priya. Nothing else. My husband has all kinds of aspirations. Sometimes he wants them to be IFS officers, sometimes he wants them to be a DJ at a sundance party at Goa. Those kinds of polarities exist in his choice. But I want them to really assert their independence. I want them to marry whom they please, study whatever. Live with their choices.

Me: That! Is as beautiful as motherhood gets!

Ma’am often says that the purpose of her life is to infect her students with the love for literature. She says she will feel accomplished once she has attained that. But I believe, she’s already accomplished in that sense. For she has enlightened, not infected, me and many others, with literature. 

Picture Courtesy: