A Professor To Remember

She looked terrific with a heart-shaped face, kind honey-brown eyes, short blunt sandy hair, and a dimpled smile. She must have been in her mid-twenties – not slim, but neither was she bulky. The first thing you’d notice about her – at least the male students did – was her bust. It was enormous, and she always wore shirts and trousers. Her voice was sweet and melodious, and she had kind eyes. 

Meet Professor Rinku Gupta from The Alliance Française of Madras.

The Alliance Française of Madras (Chennai) is a private French school that teaches French the French way.

I’d completed my 2nd year of Sociology at Stella Maris College and was on my summer break. I wanted to learn French correctly. Previously, in school and college, our teachers and professors would concentrate on the few that understood French, and the rest of us were left on the sidelines. How I finally got through the language without an arrear was a miracle! But the miracle came because I concentrated on prose by memorising wars and stories. I also used to bug the French Experts in college to give me global translations of Napoleon Bonaparte’s wars. As for grammar, it was a nightmare. We were never taught the basics … unfortunately. But we couldn’t blame the teachers; they were meagerly paid. However, the college professor, we learned, had a handsome salary. But whatever she taught went over my head as she scared me silly. But I got through by the grace of God and some assistance from a collegemate, Anitha.

However, I couldn’t forget my college professor’s assessment that I would miss the boat in French, and I was plagued by thoughts that she might be right. So although we didn’t have a second language in the third year of college, I decided to study French at the renowned Alliance Française of Madras and find out if my professor was right.

The thought of joining Alliance Française sent shivers down my spine. I didn’t have money to throw away and had to consider the fees, cost of textbooks, audio cassettes, etc. Unlike other families where parents foot the bills, in my case, I had to pay through my resources. My bank account wasn’t overflowing. Moreover, during that time, money was needed in the family as my brother was in the hospital for surgery. So with all this in my mind, it took courage to register at the Alliance Française.

I arrived early to class, even before the classroom was unlocked! When I saw the well-dressed students stroll in five minutes before class commenced, my inferiority complex raised its head. The students looked hip and knowledgeable from wealthy backgrounds. Some were taking French as a second language in school and college, one was an English Professor, and the rest looked like they were there to pass the time and make friends.

I spoke sternly to myself: you cannot afford to have second thoughts. You have invested your hard-earned savings in this course. So let no one stand in your way. Send those fearful thoughts out of your mind.

And then SHE walked in. No, I’ll correct that. She BURST in. A Live-Wire. She spoke as she entered – in French! We looked at her aghast. Was she going to continue in French? And how in God’s name would we understand?

It was a 2–5 pm class … eyes were barely opened. But when Professor Rinku Gupta marched in, no one slept! She was everywhere, talking, explaining, smiling, and asking questions. Never mind, we didn’t understand nor speak a word of French. She gave us the sound of the beautiful language right from Day 1.

Suddenly, those honey-brown eyes descended on me. “Je m’appelle Rinku,” she said, “et vous?”

I was like, what is she saying? Oh, my God! I hope she is not going to be like my college professor.

She sensed my apprehension, I guess, for she sat on my desk and looked at me with her lips sliding up at the corners until her dimples were revealed. Then she pointed to one of the students and said, “Il s’appelle Rohit,” and to another, “elle s’appelle Vidya,” and then to herself, “Je’ m’appelle Rinku,” and then asked me “comment vous appelez-vous?”

I said, “Rinku.” Her head fell back, and she laughed heartily but not in a mocking manner. Then, with immense patience and without losing the smile, she pointed to herself and said again, “Je m’appelle Rinku, et vous?” My fear slowly evaporated, and my mind cleared. I said, “Je m’appelle Cecilia.” And she said, “Cécile en français.” That was how I got the name Cécile. It is the French version of Cecilia.

I explained this scenario in detail to demonstrate the trouble Professor Rinku Gupta took to get her student to understand what she was saying without resorting to translation. All this with persistence – not just with me but all the students. But what she didn’t tolerate was her students failing to do their homework, not listening in class, and not taking French seriously.

The French course was intensive, which meant Monday-Saturday 2-5 pm. So most students barely did their homework and skipped classes. However, I was on a different trip. From Day 1, I placed myself close to the professor’s table, and since we sat in a semi-circle, my desk was almost stuck to her table. I would take down notes from the board, memorise vocabulary and try to understand grammatical explanations. Although grammar was taught in French, I understood. But it took enormous effort and hard work. At times, I remember going on my bended knees and asking God to help me, as I had no one else.

In class, I listened carefully to Professor Rinku Gupta’s accent and noted the pronunciation of the words in English. I even bought the audio cassettes and would listen to the lessons in advance so that I could read whenever she asked me.

One day, after we finished the lesson, Professor Rinku Gupta decided to give us a dictation. There were moans, groans, and yawns. But I was supercharged. She read the French text, and we listened to the entire passage. Then she reread it, and we took it down.

I couldn’t sleep that night. The verdict was important to me. The next afternoon, Professor Rinku Gupta skipped in enthusiastically and started to distribute the test results, reciting the marks in French! My heart thudded as she looked at me and smiled – not any smile but a full-teeth-dimpled one.

“Excellent!” she said. Then she wrote on the board the one mistake I’d made. The word was Déjeuner, and I wrote Dejeuner without the acute accent on the é and lost ¼ mark. So I got 9 3/4 on 10.

My jaw dropped. I couldn’t stop smiling. This proved that if I tried hard enough and had a professor who believed in me, I could fly high.

I excelled throughout the course: dictations, conversations, comprehensions, dialogues, and compositions. When the examination hit, I came through with outstanding results. I gave Professor Rinku Gupta a thank-you card with a personal message in French. I was sad the course had ended, and she wouldn’t be my professor at the next level. 

But Professor Srilatha was pretty good too. By the end of the Pré-diplôme course, I knew I would specialise in French. I continued to the Diplôme level, where I had Professors Bilkhis, Amrita, Hema, and Gabin. I simultaneously enrolled at the University of Madras for a Masters in French. Then I continued to the Diplôme Supérieur, where Professor Auzoux took over. After five years of study at the Alliance Française and two years at the University of Madras, I was satisfied with having realised my goal of mastering the French language.

All this because Professor Rinku Gupta took an interest in me. 

Teaching is not just a profession. It requires love, tolerance, patience, dedication, and compassion. No Teacher’s Training Program or degree would benefit if you cannot descend to the level of the students and help them understand. It would be like what St Paul said in 1 Corinthians 13:1

“If I speak in the tongues of men or angels but do not have love, I am only a resounding gong or a clanging cymbal.”

Several years later, I was employed with the French Honorary Consulate and had the immense pleasure of meeting my professors on French National Day (July 14th) during cocktails and dinner. I’d organised the soirée on behalf of the Honorary Consul of France at The Madras Club.

When I saw my “missed the boat” professor, my mind flashed to college, and the scene played all over again, how she called me to the front of the class and asked me a grammatical question in French that I could not answer. How she made me stand before my collegemates while she told me in her stylish accent, “you are going to miss the boat in French.” I could even hear the sound of their mocking laughter.

Now, there she was, walking up to me and shaking my hand without the slightest recognition in her eyes. I was glad. It was time to let the past go. We conversed in French, and she complimented me on my accent. Unfortunately, I couldn’t return the compliment, as I found her accent awful! She spoke French with a Tamil accent.

I told myself she did me a favour even if it hurt me those years ago. Had she not mocked me, I would have probably not enrolled at the Alliance Française and mastered this beautiful language.

And then I met my favourite French Professor Rinku Gupta, who came with her mother to the party. She remembered me instantly and was delighted I went so far in life with the French language. She complimented me on my accent and language skills and said she’d always known I’d go far. She then confided that she didn’t teach at the Alliance Française anymore but continued privately. All I could think was … What a loss for Alliance Française!

I learned later that Professor Rinku Gupta had become a journalist.