I was scheduled to deliver a lecture to undergraduate students on ‘obstructed labor, uterine rupture, and other maternal injuries’. I had one hour to do it. When I sat down to make my slides, I realized it was actually 2.5 to three lectures, going by 35 A4 sized Word pages of my notes. I made three PowerPoint presentations, including over 200 slides. The last time I had delivered a lecture to the undergrads, the computer and LCD projector had not functioned at all, even if the lecture hall was the usual one and was well equipped and adequately staffed. I had written to the Dean, who had promised to take necessary action. This time they had shifted the venue to an auditorium which was actually meant for cultural programs rather than lectures. I was mentally prepared that I would not be able to show my slides. My instinct was right. They had a laptop and an LCD projector, but no one to connect them. I did not have time to connect them physically and electrically, and then make them work. “There won’t be any slides,” I told the students, “because there is no one to handle the equipment and I don’t have time enough to do that and teach you. “The positive aspect of this is that you don’t have to go through more than 200 slides. The negative aspect is that the lights will not be switched off during the lecture, and any one of you desirous of taking a nap will not be able to do so.” They laughed. The standard procedure in the event of electronic technology failure during a teaching session is to fall back on ‘blackboard and chalk’. I turned to the wall to write on the backboard. There was no board, neither black nor white. Finally I started teaching them without any visual aid, making gestures in the air, and folding papers for demonstration of body parts. One of the students proved me wrong on not being able to sleep with the lights on. Obviously he wasn’t afraid of being caught, and probably was used to a night-lamp. About 10 minutes afterwards I noticed that a student was asleep in the second row, the first row being vacant. ‘Hey, wake up!’ I said. He wouldn’t wake up. Finally the fellow sitting next to him nudged him awake. I continued my lecture. After another ten minutes or so, I happened to glance in his direction, and found him asleep again. I was surprised. “Hey, wake up,” I said. He wouldn’t. “Doesn’t wake up,” I said to no one in particular. The obliging neighboring student nudged him and woke him up. But his face showed he was still generating alpha brain waves and not beta ones. “Never in my history as a teacher has anyone gone to sleep twice during the same lecture,” I declared. “What shall we do with you?” Then I had an idea. “I shall put this up in Twitter tonight.” Both the audience (minus the said guy) and I brightened up at the prospect. “What is your name? I need it for my Twitter post”. He wouldn’t say anything. He was probably afraid of telling me his name. He probably did not know I did not tweet. Instead of the traumatic experience of asking him again, I chose to read out a random male name from the attendance sheet and looked at him expectantly. “Sir, but that is my name,” another guy said from the third row on the other side of the room. He seemed agitated that I would put his name by mistake in Twitter post. “If that is your name, what is his name?” I asked him. He hesitated briefly, and gave in. He told me the fellow’s name. “Thank you,” I said, “I actually knew the name I read out would not be his name. But would you have told me his name willingly otherwise?” I turned back to the culprit who had disturbed the flow of the lecture by sleeping twice. By now he was out of alpha waves and well into delta waves. “OK, I won’t put your name in Twitter, unless you go back to sleep a third time”. With that he seemed to settle down. I resumed by lecture. He kept nodding his head vehemently during my remaining lecture, which I thought was his attempt to reassure me that he was not only awake, but also comprehending the contents of my talk. On second thought, now I feel it might have been his method of not falling asleep again. To keep him and the others awake and interested, I told them a couple of stories related to the topics being discussed. They seemed to like them, and laughed together at the punch lines without any cue. So I told them a couple more stories, and they laughed again. Overall, it was a quite satisfying experience for all (except maybe the sleepy guy), and educational for those who wanted education.
