A twist of the mouth, a pout and an attempt to whistle. A giggle .And the class erupts into joyous laughter.
That was Sister Teresa for you. Each of her classes were unique, fun and we got to learn various things, some dangerously veering off-chart(read off-syllabus). For instance, today she was teaching her proteges to" whistle". A definitely "un-nun"-like thing to teach.
She was in fact, imitating series of whistles, from a train hoot, to a cat-call, and spent a good fifteen minutes "wasting time ".But she got the "circulation going" , so by the time, she started on the boring topic of logarithms, she had adroitly, captured the attention of the class.That was Sr.Tresa quintessential. You would be eating out of her hands in no time , and not even being aware of it.
On another occasion , an algebra test was due: she breezed into the classroom , and started teaching us malayalam alphabets. The class heaved a sigh of relief. Just when we were beginning to get the hang of the simple two letter words, the black- board was wiped clean , and the dreaded equations appeared! Whole 20 of them! A tired and very" chalky-dusty", Sr. Tresa turned and gave us her characteristic impish grin , adjusted her veil, and ordered us to "get down to it".
If she wasn't a nun, she would have been a siren. She was a perfect picture of feminine beauty. Some months into her tenure at our school, she went for a workshop, and their usual black and white habits were traded for saffron-ish coloured saris , with matching veils.That only ended up multiplying her beauty.
We would wait anxiously, for her to walk in, on a talcum -scented air,and begin our day.The day was deemed successful, if she took the first class.
That was Sister Teresa for you. Each of her classes were unique, fun and we got to learn various things, some dangerously veering off-chart(read off-syllabus). For instance, today she was teaching her proteges to" whistle". A definitely "un-nun"-like thing to teach.
She was in fact, imitating series of whistles, from a train hoot, to a cat-call, and spent a good fifteen minutes "wasting time ".But she got the "circulation going" , so by the time, she started on the boring topic of logarithms, she had adroitly, captured the attention of the class.That was Sr.Tresa quintessential. You would be eating out of her hands in no time , and not even being aware of it.
On another occasion , an algebra test was due: she breezed into the classroom , and started teaching us malayalam alphabets. The class heaved a sigh of relief. Just when we were beginning to get the hang of the simple two letter words, the black- board was wiped clean , and the dreaded equations appeared! Whole 20 of them! A tired and very" chalky-dusty", Sr. Tresa turned and gave us her characteristic impish grin , adjusted her veil, and ordered us to "get down to it".
If she wasn't a nun, she would have been a siren. She was a perfect picture of feminine beauty. Some months into her tenure at our school, she went for a workshop, and their usual black and white habits were traded for saffron-ish coloured saris , with matching veils.That only ended up multiplying her beauty.
We would wait anxiously, for her to walk in, on a talcum -scented air,and begin our day.The day was deemed successful, if she took the first class.
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