ELECTIONS '98
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Lord of the class

With secondary and primary schools reopening in Bombay after the summer holidays, it is time for new uniforms, notebooks, text books, plastic covers and animated discussions about new teachers and how they compared with those in the previous year. Transfers from one division to other had to be accepted. In my school-going days the 'A' division was presumed to have the brightest boys and girls, the 'B', the mediocre ones. As against the two divisions per class in the past, today there are eight to ten, each with 75 students or more. Despite being squeezed in small class rooms, students experienced genuine excitement over the novelties of the new classes and new teachers for the first two weeks.

And then comes the monitor time. Prior to this, individual teachers had experimented with students giving them opportunities to 'mind the class' when they had to go out for short periods. Those selected for this welcomed the opportunity to exhibit their authority and control over their friends. Both of my daughters, while in primary and secondary schools, enjoyed this show of authority. The elder one was free with the use of the footrule to 'maintain discipline', till she was forbidden to do so by the teacher. The younger one wrote down the names of the troublemakers and immediately submitted the list to the teacher.

From 'minding the class' to the position of monitor was a significant leap forward. The monitor was normally elected by the students. If you were not popular with your classmates, you had no chance of being elected. My younger daughter was quite naughty, but quite obviously this quality appealed to her friends. They elected her the class monitor.

It was a momentous moment in her young life. I celebrated this by writing a short humorous piece in the Times of India which was appreciated by the entire school. My daughter's stock went up in the school. "Did you see Maithili's name in the newspaper?" asked her awed friends. The teacher sent a note thanking me for highlighting the democratic election process the school adopted to chose its monitors.

The monitor system must have been a legacy from the British system. Even in my days, we had monitors. Somehow, I never became one because I always preferred to be led than lead. Occasionally, some of my friends suggested that my name be proposed for the monitor's post, but I just could not enjoy being in the limelight. I felt that by becoming a monitor, a student lost his individuality. He or she was a marked person and had to function in the shadow of the teacher. A monitor was supposed to be punctual, studious, disciplined and set an example for others. I was certain I could not shoulder these responsibilities.

That did not mean all the monitors turned out to be paragons of perfection. Two years of my secondary education were spent in a convent school in Madras. I was one of the three boys in the class who had to study and compete with 48 girls. When the time for choosing the new monitor arrived, the boys were nowhere in the picture.

I vividly remember one of the monitors of my class. She was Lily Peters, not very intelligent, not very attractive. But there was some mysterious quality in her which drew the other girls to her like a magnet. Lily Peters, even before becoming the monitor, reigned over the class like a queen. As soon as she alighted from the school bus, some of the girls rushed forward to carry her books and tiffin box. Others followed, ready to obey any orders coming form her.

Oh, she really lorded over the class. Her homework was done by the other girls. Everyday, the girls brought her special goodies from their homes which Lily accepted grandly during the lunch hour. Often she wore the best dresses of her friends. Like a true leader, she played the power game effectively, changing her favourites ever so often. Those chosen for this honour were thrilled, and those who were out of favour, were often in tears.

The boys watched all this with amusement. Fortunately, Lily never tired to influence us but glared at us when we referred to her favourites as vallu (tails). At the time of the monitor election, no one opposed Lily and she was elected unanimously. Since the tenure of the monitor was one year, she could not contest again. But the new monitor, an ardent admirer of Lily, did nothing without consulting her. It was a clear case of abdication of power, but then who can ignore the 'Lily Power'?

The teachers were aware of this and did not like it much. But Lily knew how to handle them. A hostelite, she saw to it that she was close to the nuns who ran the convent. They were won over without much difficulty and Lily continued to rule over the class. I have no clear memories of how she functioned as the monitor. But she always grabbed the lead role in the annual class play, decided the roles for the others and influenced her friends to stitch for her gorgeous dresses. They did so willingly!

When I told my daughter Maithili about Lily, she was highly amused. "We don't have girls like that in our class," she explained. "We know how to take care of them, if they wanted to function like Lily." Perhaps, the quality of the monitors had improved. Classes have become more democratic and girls seldom worshipped one of their own classmates. But to this day, when I remember Lily Peters, I think of Indira Gandhi!

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