Opinion: From Gurukuls to Gaganyaan — The silent teacher
To revere ancient gurus and forget the modern teacher who built Chandrayaan, lifted river, crafted vaccines is to commit an injustice
By Chada Rekha Rao
When we look back at history, the image of a teacher has always been a colossal presence. Their journey was not reel, but real. They didn’t plan for blind 2047 like our political bosses, but for every minute. Ancient India had Chanakya, who shaped Chandragupta into an emperor and sowed the seeds of political science that still echo through our democracy.
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Greece had Socrates, his student Plato, and his student Aristotle, whose philosophical instruction sculpted the intellectual foundations of the Western world. China had Confucius, whose teachings defined ethics, governance, and social life for millennia.
Our own civilisation produced Veda Vyasa, who compiled the Mahabharata and guided generations through timeless wisdom; Panini, who gave the world the science of grammar; Patanjali, whose Yoga Sutras still guide humanity’s quest for inner balance; Aryabhata, the mathematical astronomer who calculated the value of pi; and Nagarjuna, whose profound explorations in medicine and philosophy resonate even today. The epics gave us Dronacharya and Kripacharya, gurus who trained warriors like Arjuna and Duryodhana in the arts of battle. The West remembered Socrates, who questioned everything, and whose disciples carried forward the torch of reason.
It is easy to romanticise them and think modern teachers pale in comparison. But pause for a moment and ask — who are the Chanakyas of today? Who are the Veda Vyasa, the Aristotle, the Confucius of our century?
Kaleshwaram Lift Irrigation, the largest of its kind in the world; Atal Tunnel, and the mighty Chenab Bridge, the highest railway bridge in the world, are not just civil works; they are classrooms translated into geography
The answer does not come cloaked in togas or robes. It is present in lab coats, chalk-stained saris, classroom boards, research papers, and digital screens of today’s schools, colleges, and research institutes. Modern teachers are not inferior. They are equally, if not more, consequential — because today’s stage is not a royal court or a city-state; it is the vast canvas of the globe, where India stands as a knowledge superpower.
From Blackboards to Spaceboards
If Chandragupta’s empire was Chanakya’s success story, then India’s Chandrayaan is the success story of modern teachers. Our scientists at ISRO are the proud products of schools and colleges where teachers patiently drilled formulas, inspired questions, and encouraged curiosity. Chandrayaan did not take birth in the vacuum of space; it took birth in classrooms where teachers sowed the seeds of astronomy and physics.
The same goes for Gaganyaan, India’s bold human spaceflight mission, and Aditya-L1, which now watches over the Sun. They are testaments to how teachers have shaped young boys and girls into engineers, astrophysicists, and mission directors. Every launch pad is an extended classroom; every rocket carries the legacy of a teacher’s chalk.
Just as Aristotle trained Alexander for conquest, today’s teachers train students for conquests of a different kind — the conquest of space, the conquest of oceans, the conquest of knowledge.
Behind Engineering Miracles
If ancient kings built palaces and fortresses under the guidance of their gurus, today’s India builds rivers that flow against nature. The ambitious river-linking projects, where engineers attempt to transfer surplus waters to drought-hit regions, are not simply feats of machinery; they are feats of human imagination nurtured in classrooms.
For instance, the Kaleshwaram Lift Irrigation Project in Telangana — the largest of its kind in the world. The Atal Tunnel in Himachal Pradesh, the longest high-altitude tunnel, and the mighty Chenab Bridge in Jammu & Kashmir, the highest railway bridge in the world. These are not just civil works; they are classrooms translated into geography.
India’s metro systems are moving classrooms of a different sort, but their real origins trace back to the teachers who first introduced concepts of physics, motion, design, and urban planning to young students. The great teachers of antiquity gave the world political treatises and philosophies; the great teachers of today give the world engineers who literally move rivers and reshape landscapes.
Teachers Who Heal
One may also remember that ancient teachers were physicians too —Sushruta, the father of surgery, taught apprentices to heal wounds and perform operations. But can we overlook the teachers behind India’s medical miracles today? Remember Covid-19? India stunned the world by delivering vaccines not only for itself but for dozens of countries. Behind that feat stood the invisible but powerful hands of teachers in microbiology, biochemistry, pharmacology, and public health.
Today’s teachers are shaping cardiologists who implant artificial hearts, neurologists who attempt brain-mapping, and oncologists who devise new ways to fight cancer. They are Sushruta multiplied by millions.
Respecting the Modern Guru
A single teacher in a government school in a remote village of Telangana or Bihar might handle 60 students at once. But in those 60 children, there may be a future scientist, a doctor, an engineer, or a leader who will change India’s destiny. That is the silent revolution of modern teaching: democratisation of knowledge.
And yet, the irony remains: while we immortalise ancient gurus, we often neglect modern teachers. Our society celebrates engineers, doctors, and scientists, but forgets that each one of them is the reflection of a teacher.
If Chandragupta’s empire was Chanakya’s monument, then Chandrayaan is the monument of today’s teachers. If Aristotle lives on through Alexander, then our teachers live on through rockets, medicines, metros, and bridges. The 21st-century teacher is a quiet revolutionary. They may not sit in palaces or courts, but they sit in classrooms that are no less powerful than thrones. They may not tutor emperors, but they tutor entire generations. Their legacy is not written in parchment, but in satellites, vaccines, tunnels, bridges, and innovations.
To revere Chanakya, Veda Vyasa, Panini, Patanjali, Aryabhata, Nagarjuna, Dronacharya, Kripacharya, Socrates, Plato, Aristotle, and Confucius is justified. But to forget the modern teacher who built Chandrayaan, who lifted rivers, who crafted vaccines, who built metros, is to commit an injustice.
The soul of India is carried not only by ancient wisdom but by modern teaching. And if India is to remain a Vishwa Guru, it will not be because of past glory alone, but because today’s teachers still carry chalk, courage, and commitment in equal measure.
(The author is Principal of Oxford Grammar School, Hyderabad)
