I was preparing to transfer to a higher education institution from my small school. At the Satara district, I was attempting to enrol in Aundh High School, and I was optimistic that I would get accepted. I asked my teacher at school for guidance. Our competent Scout leader was Hanamantrao Deshmukh, who also taught us Tarkhadkar’s English version. We learned math from Mr. Katre. He made learning math very simple. However, he had asthma. At Katre Sir’s residence, my father used to cut wood logs.

Golivadekar, a different instructor, taught geography and history. He was also a specialist in farming. With our assistance, he established a farm and garden on the grounds of our school.

We, the village boys, were physically fit and eager to put in a lot of effort. We drew water from the rope well and gave it to the fruit trees, flowers, and agricultural crops. The farm and garden flourished as a result. Naturally, Golivadekar sir loved us and showed us several agricultural tool digging techniques, including how to prepare farm bunding and create beds in the ground.

Naik, our headmaster, was strict with us. He also taught us English, and he particularly enjoyed teaching Wren and Martin English grammar. He used to continually offer us advice. His leadership helped the institution advance in its test results.

I got to know all of these teachers before I left my school and benefited greatly from their insightful counsel. In particular, the experiences of Raigaonkar Sir and Deshpande Sir, which stayed in my mind forever and helped form my profession, are the two examples I’d like to cite.

I recall once being unable to participate in a wrestling competition because of my low caste. I excelled at wrestling and received meagre awards at the village gymkhana. A well-known wrestler in the area challenged an opponent in a wrestling match. It was ignored. I complied with my friend’s request and accepted the challenge.

Yet alas! I was driven out when someone mentioned that I was being scheduled. Despite my disappointment, Raigaonkar Sir encouraged me. People don’t realise that in sports, talent should take precedence over caste, he claimed. When society transcends caste, meritorious lads like you will be graciously asked to take part in such competitions.

The second incident happened during the Holi celebration. A folk play called Tamasha was organised in the Adult Education Program’s classroom. Raigaonkar Sir, the local teacher, showed up as usual to take his class. He was astounded to discover a Tamasha performance taking place on the grounds of a revered academic institution. When I saw him, I hurried over to him and apologised. “Shankar, today is Holi, and in the villages, such programmes are regular,” he merely said. However, I question the need for a Tamasha in a class for adults.

These two experiences had a lasting impression on me and helped to mould my future.