Review of Perumal Murugan's Students Etched in Memory

The Hindu

a day ago

The essays in Perumal Murugan's Students Etched in Memory(translated from the Tamil by V. Iswarya) first appeared in 2017 as part of a weekly column in theVetrikodi supplement of theHindu Tamil Thisai. Contrary to the meaning of Vetrikodi (flag of victory), Murugan's stories about the students he taught during his three decades as a government college Tamil teacher in Attur weren't always success stories. 'As a teacher, my attention is not always on those who have done well,' writes Murugan and we warm up to him instantly.
The side most people know of Murugan is the writerly one but follow his work closely and you will see that this self is firmly rooted in his experiential world. As a free thinker who has taught Tamil to first generation learners in rural India, Murugan comes face-to-face with an educational system choked by an oppressive and feudal worldview, caste-class inequities, and outmoded pedagogical practices.
Young heroes
The essays in this book, ably translated by Iswarya, are heart-warming, poignant sketches of Murugan's students. Through his stories of their exploits, a picture emerges of Murugan himself, of a teacher who is warm, generous, compassionate and thoughtful. Murugan holds that the work of a teacher does not end with the classroom but rather, that it must extend even to the inner lives of students. He is a teacher who is constantly learning how to be one.
There is not a trace of self-consciousness or self-glorification in the essays. Murugan tells it like it is. This is what makes the book such a wonderfully engaging memoir.
Reading the essays is an immersive experience and we meet some of Murugan's most interesting students. The list is long: Maanvizhi, a female student who decides to stand for student union elections but is forced to back out; the brilliant Kalaichelvi who presents a critical paper on theMahabharataand ends up earning the wrath of a professor for being too bold; Sudhakar who lives in Murugan's house for some time and loves to cook; Kumaresan who, prompted by Murugan, starts reading fiction; Prabhu with his quirky haircut; Chinnadurai the amazing performer who sings anopparaias part of a college competition; ruffian Ramu who turns out to be a poet and a talented kabbadi player; Rasu who has a green thumb; the mischievous Rajkumar who ultimately pipes down; Jhansi who knits a beanie for Murugan's daughter; Sarala who ends up as a policewoman in Valparai; the handsome Balamurugan who ultimately commits suicide because of failure in love; the dynamic Venkatachalam who is the joint secretary of the literary forum; the outlier Prabhakaran and his gang whom Murugan eventually wins over; Nandakumar who insists on prostrating before Murugan; Suresh from Javvadhu hills who has political ambitions; the hair-flipping Silambarasan; cycle Soosai; parotta master Gopalakrishnan; Koushik, the barber who cuts Murugan's hair when the latter is under house arrest; and research scholar Seenivasan whom Murugan mentors.
The tyranny of English
Through his finely etched portraits, Murugan raises some fundamental and difficult questions. How does one teach and learn in an environment which is deeply feudal, so much so that students and their parents hesitate to sit in the presence of professors? How does one respond to class inequality and income inequities? (Many of Murugan's students work day jobs to support themselves and their families.) What work-arounds can one employ in the face of outdated curricula and pedagogical methods? How does one replace the old system of disciplining and punishing students with a new one based on respect and love?
Murugan draws our attention to the tyranny that is English when it comes to first generation learners from rural, small town Tamil Nadu. He recounts stories of students who clear all their papers but are held back only on account of the English paper. He also writes of the difficulty he faces when it comes to female students. Unlike in the case of male students, Murugan must keep a distance from them because of social dictates and so cannot mentor them to the extent he would like to. He also critiques the corrupt practice of research students buying their degrees.
Making learning contemporary
Murugan argues that while students need to be introduced to ancient Tamil writings, they should primarily be exposed to writings that engage with our own times and in ways that are accessible to them. He is happy, he writes, to share soft copies of reading materials over WhatsApp so that his students have easy access to them. His vision is that of an environment where students feel free to ask questions, where their individual talents are encouraged.
He stresses the importance of skill training and practical exposure. At one point, Murugan reflects on how the privilege he enjoys of a government job and a steady income results in his rebuking a parent who, unable to afford the college fee of ₹600, delays his son's enrolment. Equally engaging are his reflections on the importance of fashion and romance in the lives of his students and the importance of preserving their innate joy and exuberance.
What I found especially striking about these essays is the fact that Murugan narrates both 'success' stories as well as 'tragic' stories and stories of 'failure'. ReadingStudents Etched in Memoryis an exercise in understanding the nature of privilege and how this plays out in the field of education. Fiesty, quirky, courageous and resilient, the young people in Murugan's portraits shine with their own light.
He dreams of a future for Chinnadurai in theatre but sadly, the latter ends up with arrears in English, drops out of college, takes up wage labour, gets married starts to works in a Tasmac shop. The ruffian poet-kabbadi player Ramu who is a young father and works in a yam mill at night, ends up bedridden thanks to an accident. Had there been a sports instructor in college, laments Murugan, Ramu could have landed a job under the sports persons' quota. Perhaps the most poignant of all is the story of handsome Balamurugan who works shifts at a spinning mill, falls in love with a fellow mill worker, breaks up with her because of caste differences and commits suicide by consuming pesticide. Murugan feels guilty for having ignored Balamurugan's inner life.
The 'success' stories are just as fascinating and Murugan finds great pleasure in his students' happiness. Nandakumar passes four English exam arrears in one go and eventually goes on to doing a PhD. Suresh is unable to fulfil his dream of entering politics but lands a government job. Parotta master Gopalakrishnan becomes a Tamil teacher and research scholar Seenivasan follows Murugan's advice that he do original research.
For Murugan, his students' love is his greatest treasure. Their offerings range from help rendered by a student turned policeman to gifts of vegetables and extra naan and chicken curry in a parceled meal by other students.
The translator has wisely chosen not to italicise the Tamil words in the text and to use a more intuitive spelling rather than a scholarly one when it comes to names of individuals and places. She has also clearly retained the lucidity and the simplicity of Murugan's voice.
Students Etched in Memory Perumal Murugan, translated by V. Iswarya Hamish Hamilton ₹599
The reviewer is a poet, translator and academic; her forthcoming work is a book of poems, Footnotes to the Mahabharata