Living to teach, teaching to live

It’s nine o’clock on a May morning at the small village of Gadhro in Jhargram, West Midnapore, about 160km from Kolkata. The sun blazes mercilessly, sending people scurrying for shade. Unfazed in the searing heat that melts asphalt, 28-year-old Jagannath Mahato travels miles on his wheelchair-van — to teach. Jagannath was born in this village with spastic diplegia, a form of cerebral palsy, which left his left arm and leg too weak to be of any use.Undeterred, he goes about life with his right limbs. Jagannath climbs stairs, organizes Saraswati Puja with his friends and students at the courtyard of his mud house and travels through the highway on his wheelchair with remarkable confidence. He is also the sole earning member of his family. Jagannath travels as far as Gajashimul, about 7km from his house, to teach students. The zeal for education was kindled in him at an early age. “My teachers at Bikas Bharati School were very encouraging. They always told me to study hard, and said education would help me stand on my feet,” he says. This zeal for education gradually translated into his calling in life. After graduating with honours in geography from Subarnarekha Mahavidyalaya in 2009, he did a private course in Bengali (honours). He also obtained a diploma in computer studies while studying in college. He now makes a living teaching 109 students in several batches. Through a twist of fate, he hit upon the idea to adopt “private tuition” as a way to earn a living. Those were the days when Maoists held sway in West Midnapore, Purulia and Bankura. The Maoists opened a school in Jagannath’s village. He was a rare graduate who did not leave the village for the city. “Those of us who were educated in the village were told to teach in the school run by the Maoists. They paid me Rs 500 monthly,” Jagannath says. After the school shut down, the idea stuck. He started teaching village children of all ages, right up to Class XII. As his reputation as a good teacher spread, students from neighbouring villages flocked to his classes. “I spend the entire day teaching students. Some come to my house. I also travel to Lodhashuli, Jitushole and Gajashimul to teach several batches,” Jagannath says. Yet, he yearns for a secure, government job. His brush with luck came while wheeling his chair down the highway on a January afternoon in 2012. While returning from Yuva Utsav in West Midnapore, chief minister Mamata Banerjee spotted Jagannath on his wheelchair near the Gadhro bus stand. He was returning home after teaching a batch of students. “She stopped her car. She asked me what I did, about my family, my educational qualifications,” Jagannath recalls. Then, one day in June 2012, a vehicle from Kalighat arrived at Jagannath’s house. “Mamata Didi had sent the car to take me to Kolkata. She wanted to meet me,” Jagannath says. He went to Kolkata but could not meet the chief minister, as she had to go to Delhi on work. “But Didi instructed minister Madan Mitra to help me out.” After he returned home, then West Midnapore police superintendent Gaurav Sharma came to his house to collect documents, including mark sheets. “I was hopeful. I eagerly awaited some good news,” Jagannath says. But none came. Two years passed. Then, in the summer of 2014, he heard that the CM was visiting Silda. “I requested local police officers to help me meet her. They asked me to wait at the Lodhashuli crossing. The CM would meet me when she passed that way,” he says. And so he waited with his friends at Lodhashuli when the CM’s car stopped. “District police superintendent Bharati Ghosh came up to me and took me to the CM.” The chief minister assured him that she had plans for him and that he should not worry. Months passed, yet he did not have a government job. He had met the local MLA and MP, but nothing seemed to move. Next, he met the CM again at an awards ceremony, where she asked him to study for a masters or a BEd degree to improve job prospects. After this meeting, Jagannath’s hopes were rekindled. During his wait for a secure job, Jagannath found his guardian angel, Jhargram SDPO Vivek Verma, who was then a probationer. Jagannath’s keenness to meet the chief minister caught Verma’s eye. Since then, Verma — amazed at Jagannath’s indomitable willpower and self-respect — has been a solid support in his battle with disability and poverty. Jagannath says he is indebted to Verma. “Sir (Verma) is always there for me. He helped me when my father met with an accident. He even introduced me to Facebook so that I could widen my horizon,” he says. His amiable nature has got him enduring friendships. His school friends, Kripasindhu Mahato and Sumit Shit, have walked with him through thick and thin. They admire his courage and knowledge. On June 9, Jagannath received a call from the sub-divisional officer (SDO) of Jhargram. “SDO saheb told me he wanted me to join work at his office from the very next day,” Jagannath says. He was told that he would be posted as a Group C clerk. He is reporting for work every day, but is yet to get a formal appointment letter. Not one to give up, Jagannath is brimming with enthusiasm about work at his new office. But he continues to teach... and hope.