A guru, a teacher, whatever we may call them, is the one who sees the extraordinary in the ordinary and believes in you when the world may not. They shape our lives, guiding us with wisdom and love, like a sculptor chiseling away doubt and confusion, revealing the brilliance within. In a world where people often measure your worth by success or failure, a guru looks deeper. They see you not as a sum of your achievements, but as a soul on a journey — never judging, only uplifting, always believing.
In my school days at DAV Hazaribag, it was common for teachers to judge us based solely on our marks. The high scorers were always the favorites, while the rest of us, who hovered around average, often felt invisible. But then there was our principal, Shri Ashok Kumar, a man with a vision far beyond just academics. He believed in bringing out the best in every student, seeing potential where others saw limits. When he started the school in the early 90s with just 20 students, no one could’ve imagined that by the time we graduated in 2009, it would be one of the finest schools in the region, not just in education and infrastructure, but in its spirit of innovation and excellence.
I remember in class 11th, a circular from CBSE announced a science exhibition at our school. Whoever won would qualify for the CBSE Regional Level Science Exhibition. Despite being commerce students, my friend Nikhil and I decided to take part. With the guidance of our teacher, Shri Ray Rakesh sir, we began working on a project based on the underground coalfield fires of Jharia in Dhanbad. Rakesh sir, being a native of Dhanbad, shared personal insights and even took us to the coal mines, giving our project a depth that we never expected. To our shock and joy, we won the school exhibition in the senior category.
But then, objections arose from senior science teachers. They questioned how two commerce students could qualify for a science exhibition at such a high level. Their concerns were understandable; nothing like this had ever happened before. Our victory suddenly felt hollow, and we were heartbroken, thinking that despite winning, we might not be allowed to move forward.
That’s when our principal, Shri Ashok Kumar, stepped in. Rather than dismissing the situation, he formed a committee of judges from different scientific organizations. After careful review, they upheld the decision — we would represent our school at the regional level. His faith in us didn’t stop there. As we prepared for the CBSE Regional Level Science Exhibition, the pressure began to build. The weight of representing our school at such a prestigious event was overwhelming. But everyone, from our teachers to the non-teaching staff, rallied behind us. And most of all, our principal stood by us, offering unwavering support. He provided every resource we needed, arranged special classes to ensure our studies didn’t suffer, and constantly motivated us with his words.
The day finally arrived. We traveled to Ranchi for the exhibition, a two-day event where schools from all over the region showcased their projects. Our work caught the attention of the local media, but nothing compared to the anticipation we felt when the results were about to be announced. Sitting in that hall, my heart pounded so loudly I could hardly hear anything. And then, in a moment that felt surreal, our school’s name was called. We had won. We were going to represent our school at the CBSE National Level Science Exhibition. It was a dream come true, a moment of pure triumph.
As students who were once seen as underdogs, it was the belief of our teachers, and most importantly, our principal, that pushed us to succeed. Without Shri Ashok Kumar’s unwavering support, none of this would have been possible. He taught us that sometimes, all it takes is someone to believe in you, and that can change everything.
Years later, when I embarked on my journey as an independent filmmaker, I found myself in Shimla for a TV project. It was there that I met Prof. Vepa Rao, an encounter made possible through the introduction of Minakshi Chaudhry ma’am, a renowned author. Prof. Rao had retired from the Department of Journalism and Mass Communication at Himachal Pradesh University. The first people I came to know in Shimla were Minakshi Ma’am, her husband Rakesh Kanwar, a senior IAS officer, and their close friend Shashikant Sharma Ji, a former journalist turned professor — all of them were once Prof. Rao’s students. Prof. Rao had come to Shimla as a fellow at the prestigious Indian Institute of Advanced Studies and ended up staying for life. In the early 90s, he was entrusted with the task of establishing the Department of Journalism and Mass Communication at Himachal Pradesh University. Before Shimla, he held a senior position at Hindustan Times in Delhi, working alongside the great Khushwant Singh. But fate brought him to the quiet, scenic life of Shimla.
I vividly remember the first time I met him. Minakshi Ma’am and I were walking from the Indian Institute of Advanced Studies to Mall Road, near Willis Park, when we saw Prof. Rao walking towards us. We greeted him warmly, and then he took us to his favorite spot, Ashiyana Restaurant, to treat us to tea and gulab jamun. His presence was magnetic, his energy comforting. Our next meeting was equally memorable. By then, he had moved from Willis Park to Sai Apartments in Panthaghati. One evening, Shashikant Ji and I visited him for what became a late-night dinner and deep conversation. That evening marked the beginning of many more such gatherings.
Despite having only met him recently, Prof. Rao never felt like a stranger. He welcomed me as if I were family, a close friend with whom I could share my joys and struggles. We laughed, talked, and spent hours in easy conversation. Age seemed irrelevant with him; his warmth made everything feel like home. When I was working on my first short film for Amazon Prime Video, he became a guiding force. He not only helped me with the script but also played a key role in assembling the cast and crew. It was his suggestion to involve students from the Department of Journalism and Mass Communication, a brilliant idea that led to the discovery of incredibly talented students. These students were so exceptional that we went on to make two more films for Amazon Prime Video, all thanks to Prof. Rao’s guidance.
He dedicated his life entirely to his students. Though he never married, his family was made up of hundreds of students who looked up to him. Many of them lived with him, and he mentored them like a father, guiding them into successful careers in media, journalism, and even bureaucracy. His approach to teaching was unconventional. He didn’t limit himself to classroom lectures. Instead, he believed in taking his students outside the campus. Ashiyana, his favorite restaurant, became a second classroom where he would discuss journalism over chai. He even introduced a university newspaper called “Newsense,” with its printing setup housed within the department itself. Prof. Rao had an incredible ability to identify the unique potential of each student, nurturing their strengths and pushing them toward excellence.
Even after his retirement, many of Prof. Rao’s former students continued to reach out to him, seeking his wisdom in navigating both personal and professional struggles. He took their concerns seriously, treating each challenge as if it were his own. If a student needed a job, he would pull every string he could, tapping into his vast network to help them find a suitable opportunity. If someone was going through a personal crisis, he would listen with empathy, offering not just advice but a deep understanding that made people feel truly seen and heard. His role extended far beyond the classroom — he became a pillar of support for anyone who needed it.
People from all walks of life admired and loved him, from his students to others in the community. He was more than just a professor. He was a mentor, a confidant, and a friend. His presence was like a guiding light, illuminating the paths of those fortunate enough to have crossed it. For me, our bond was cemented through his countless stories of the past, filled with wisdom and humor. Sometimes, if I hadn’t seen him for a few days, he would call me, asking if I could bring him some medicine or help with something, just to give me a reason to visit. It was his way of ensuring I stayed connected, and it made me feel like I was a part of his world.
Because of him, Shimla started to feel like home. He gave the city a warmth that I hadn’t known before, and through him, I found not just a mentor, but a lasting friendship. He left for his heavenly abode in November 2022, but he will stay in our hearts forever.