The staff room for high-school teachers at the prestigious
SB Secondary School in Chennai had a long, wide wooden table in the center of
the room and assigned slots and chairs for every teacher. Typically the space given to each teacher
was insignificant so, they tended to be cluttered with mark sheets, text books,
ink pens with red stains left on the table and tea cups that were yet to be
picked by the attendant. But there was
one slot that was always clean, dusted and organized. In that slot lay a pen stand, a couple of
text books and three photo frames – one photo was that of the teacher’s
deceased parents; the second was that of the teacher with her mentor Mr. Rajan,
who had offered solace and guidance in her younger days following the untimely
death of her parents in a train accident when she was only 12. In fact, Mr. Rajan continued to be an
important presence in her life. And, the
third photo frame contained a photo of her family - her husband Sundar and her
two kids, the 25-year old Banu and the 21-year old Sanjay. That part of the table belonged to Lakshmi,
the Math teacher for 9th and 11th grade. A neat parting in the middle and a single
plait defined her unfussy hairstyle and her starched cotton saris were always
in simple, earthy colors.
It was 3:00 pm on a muggy Friday afternoon in July. The ceiling fans in the staff room were
running in full blast but were scarcely sufficient for an irate parent of a 9th
grade student named Siva. Siva and his
mother entered the staff room asking to see Lakshmi. Siva had scored 14/25 in a bi-weekly
test. SB School gave certificates of
merit to students who scored 60% or above in all tests and exams during the
year and Siva, at the beginning of the school year, by scoring less than 60%,
had lost his chance to get the certificate for the current academic year. Siva’s mother was pointed to Lakshmi, who was
picking up her belongings and getting ready to leave for the day.
Siva’s mother
asked, “Mrs. Lakshmi Sundar?”
“Yes, good
afternoon.”
“I am Siva’s
mother. Could I talk to you for a few
minutes?”
Putting down her bag, Lakshmi said, “Yes, can we go next
door to the class room?”
Upon entering the empty classroom (since classes ended at
2:45 pm), Lakshmi requested Siva’s mother to sit down and she sat in the bench
facing Siva and his mother.
Lakshmi asked, “Yes Ma’am, what would you like to talk
about?”
“You gave Siva only 14/25 on his test. He was telling me that the test was very tough
and that for a few questions, you did not give him enough marks for getting
some of the steps correct. As a result,
he won’t be able to get his merit card this year. Could you please consider looking at his test
again?”
“Ma’am, let me please clarify two things: One is that I gave
the same test to everyone and I have the same rules for how I score the
questions for everyone. So, the level of
difficulty and the criteria for getting points on the test are the same for
everyone. There are students who did
quite well on the test too. Secondly, at
the beginning of the school year in June, I told all students that in the weeks
when we don’t have the tests, I will give optional homework problems and if
students score at least 90% in those homework exercises that I would give them
one bonus point for the assignment the following week. Siva did not even submit the homework last
week. Do you still feel I need to do
something?”
Siva’s mother, putting her right hand on her forehead said,
“You are very rigid, Mrs. Lakshmi. I
don’t know what to say.” Looking at
Siva, his mother continued, “Siva, I don’t know what to do.”
In a completely unruffled tone, Lakshmi put her arm over
Siva’s shoulder and said to his mother, “Ma’am, he is a good kid. He just has to have a better work ethic. Merit cards are not as important as learning
the material properly. I sincerely feel
that doing the homeworks consistently will help him maximize his
potential. And, Siva, you know that,
correct? You don’t need me to tell you!”
Siva, looking down at the floor to avoid eye contact,
replied, “But Ma’am, I am very upset.”
Lakshmi continued, “Don’t be. Just work harder. And, you are more than welcome to attend my Sunday
afternoon classes in my house. “
Siva’s mother, with the slight hint of a smirk, replied,
“You want me to pay more fees?”
Before Lakshmi could respond, Siva clarified, “Amma, Lakshmi
Ma’am doesn’t charge anything for these extra classes. It is just for our
class’ students who want extra time and attention.”
Siva’s mother
responded, “Mrs. Lakshmi, I will talk to my husband about it. I still feel you are being very inflexible.”
Lakshmi
smiled and said, “To be equitable to everyone is more important to me,
Ma’am. Siva, do this week’s homework
without fail, okay?”
He nodded
and excused himself along with his mother.
Lakshmi walked back to her desk, picked up her bag, her stainless steel
lunchbox and turned her cell phone on.
(She would typically turn it off the moment she entered the school’s
premises in the morning.)
As Lakshmi was waiting at the bus stop, she received a call from
Mr. Rajan.
“Good evening, Lakshmi.”
“Good evening, Uncle.
I wanted to call you myself. As I
mentioned on Monday, I will come to your house with Sanjay by 5:30 pm so that
he can get your blessings before leaving.”
Sanjay had gotten admission to pursue his graduate studies in Computer
Science at UC Berkeley in California and was flying out that night to San
Francisco via Malaysia.
“Yes, yes…I
am eagerly awaiting the two of you. I am
at the sweet stall here. Please remind
me – what does Sanjay like more - Basundhi or Rasamalai?”
“Uncle, why
do you impose all this on yourself?”
Mr. Rajan,
in a playful tone, continued, “Lakshmi, what
did I ask you? Answer my question, teacher.”
“Okay,
okay. Rasamalai is his favorite. We will see you at 5:30.”
***
As Lakshmi
entered her house, she saw Sanjay, wearing a casual t-shirt and jeans, pacing
the hallway, talking to his friend on the phone. Wearing a yellow kurthi, sporting long hair
put in place by a barrette, Banu was in her room (that she shared with Sanjay),
taking an official call. On Banu’s table
was the “Rising Star” award that she had received at her workplace. Banu worked in Mumbai as a financial
analyst. She had started working in
Chennai after her graduation but her quick rise in the ranks was accompanied by
an offer to move to Mumbai earlier in the year.
Lakshmi was the one that had insisted that Banu take up this opportunity
even though Sundar had vehemently opposed to this. Banu was visiting them in Chennai this
weekend since Sanjay was leaving to the US.
As he was
ready to hang up the phone, Sanjay said to his friend, “Dey sure da, I will be
there at Bessie (Besant Nagar Beach) in an hour. We have
to see Raman Sir.”
Sporting a
quizzical look, Lakshmi asked Sanjay, “Sanjay, what’s going on?”
“Amma, Bala
just called. He said that our 12th
standard compski (Computer Science) teacher, Raman Sir, who had moved to
Coimbatore, is in town this weekend. He
had heard that a bunch of us are flying out tonight so he offered to meet up at
the coffee shop near Bessie. I will be
back by 7:30 pm, Ma. You remember Raman Sir, he…”
Gesturing to
Sanjay to stop talking, Lakshmi said- politely but firmly- “Sanjay, remember
what you told me last week when I mentioned to you that we must go see Rajan Uncle
before you leave. We need to see him at
5:30 as promised.”
Rolling his
eyes, Sanjay groaned, “Amma, he is your
teacher…your mentor. Why do you keep insisting that I come see him before I leave? I mean, I respect the man. But, why can’t I just talk to him on the
phone and get his blessings?”
Sitting down
on the sofa and asking Sanjay to sit next to her, Lakshmi continued, “Sanjay, listen
kanna. Your final semester ended in
May. For the past two months, I have
been asking you to come with me to visit Rajan Uncle. Forget about what he means to me. He has been so nice to you ever since you
were little. Just calling him on the
phone doesn’t have the same thoughtfulness of gesture that visiting him in
person does. I mean, even today, he
called me from a sweet shop to ask what your favorite sweet was. He’s 75 and he went out in the sweltering
heat to get you something that you like.
Plus, last week, you committed to me that you will come with me. You assured me that 5:30 pm today is pucca.
And now for you to say all this is not fair.”
Raising his
voice several levels, Sanjay retorted, “Amma, just like how he guided you, Raman
Sir was who got me really interested in CS (Computer Science). Remember I got 99 in the 12th
standard board exam. It was really
because of how much I liked his teaching…I really have to go visit him.”
“Only at the
time that you gave me? That’s not fair
at all.”
“What is so
unfair?? He’s just here for this weekend
and I am leaving tonight. This was a
last minute thingie. Why can’t you relax
your rules, I don’t understand?” (At
this time Banu walked into the living room after hearing Sanjay’s booming voice
in her room. She had a 5-minute break in her call.)
Lakshmi,
getting a tad agitated, asked, “Rules? You
look at honoring a commitment as a rule? That’s fine, Sanjay. You don’t have to understand me. Go ahead, meet your Raman Sir.”
Putting on
his sneakers (without socks) in a hurry, he barked, “You treat me like I am
12. I am 21 for heaven’s sake.”
Banu, ever
the soft spoken girl, calmly said, “Amma, it’s okay. Why don’t you let him see his teacher and
friends? He is leaving tonight, after
all. Rajan Thatha will understand if Sanjay just calls him.”
A miffed Lakshmi said, “Banu, you have always been Daddy’s girl and so, you
won’t support me here. Sanjay, I tell
you, you won’t understand me. That’s
totally fine. I will go visit the person
who, as you rightfully said, is my mentor and my teacher. I told him that
I will visit his house at 5:30 and I will be there at 5:30. I will see the two of you later in the
evening.”
Banu had to
resume her call. So, she went back to
her room. An angry Sanjay zoomed away on
his Pulsar bike while an upset Lakshmi took the bus to Mr. Rajan’s place.
***
Sundar
worked in the marketing department of an automobile firm and owing to his work,
traveled on an average 10 days in a month and even when in town, worked long
hours and compromised on his sleep as a result.
An aggressive, focused go-getter,
Sundar was a very affectionate family man but who spent less time with the
family than he or the family desired.
That night that Sanjay was due to fly out, Sundar, for once, returned from work
early…only to hear Banu tell him about the big argument and that neither mother
nor son was home!
A lot of
awkward silences and pauses dominated the conversations after Lakshmi and
Sanjay returned home to get ready for the airport. Sanjay did have a brief conversation with Mr.
Rajan over the phone as the latter duly blessed him and gently ribbed him for
over “having to search for a leak-proof box to pack the rasamalais!”
At the
airport, Banu and Sanjay were having a private conversation over a cup of tea
as Sundar took Lakshmi aside to check on her.
Sundar asked,
“Laks, are you feeling alright?”
Lakshmi
responded, “Yes, I am fine. I just feel
bad that the day he is leaving, Sanjay and I had this kind of a
conversation. Paavam (poor fellow), he
must be feeling so upset with me.
Sundar, do you think he will ever understand me?”
“He’s a kid,
Laks. Of course, he will understand you. It is important for you to feel good about
yourself. He will be fine. Let’s go there (pointing in the direction of
Banu and Sanjay). We don’t want him to
be late.”
As they
walked over, they heard Banu say to Sanjay, “Do call, okay?”
Sanjay
shrugged his shoulders, smiled and said, “Problem is you guys will never wait
for me to call!”
It was time
for Sanjay to check in. Sanjay wanted to
bid his goodbye to the family before getting together with two of his friends
who were traveling with him.
Banu hugged
him and said, “Sanjay, jokes apart, do call!”
Sundar put
his arm on Sanjay’ shoulder and said, “Work hard but do get some proper sleep,
unlike me!”
And finally,
Lakshmi kissed Sanjay on his forehead and said, “Best of luck, kanna. “
Sanjay winked and said, “By the way, Raman Sir conveys his sincere thanks to
you for your flexibility!”
Sundar patted Sanjay on his back
and said, “Odha paduve rascal! (I am
going to kick you!”)
The three of them bid goodbye to
Sanjay and headed back home, feeling heavy for different reasons.
***
The feeling of vacuum left by
someone who has just left town typically hits the most the moment you notice something
that is so associated with them. It hit
Lakshmi the hardest when she noticed Sanjay’s favorite sneakers on the floor next
to the sofa. He had a habit of removing
them and leaving them in the living room and was always admonished promptly by
Lakshmi for not leaving them in the shoe rack.
With her voice breaking a little, Lakshmi
said to Sundar and Banu that she was going to get some sleep. Banu went to her room while Sundar told them
that he had some work to finish and headed upstairs to his office room.
Lakshmi was fidgeting around in
bed for a while, unable to sleep, unable to register what was on the book
(titled “The Power of Habit”) that she was reading and checking her phone every
five minutes to see if Sanjay would call.
She then got a text message – “Amma, are you still awake? Can we talk?”
***
She immediately walked
over to Banu’s room.
It was Banu who had sent her the text
message.
Banu had changed into her nightwear and was in bed, wearing her black
rimmed glasses and reading, Frontline. Lakshmi knocked on her door and asked, “Banu,
can I come in?”
“Yes, Ma. Come in.”
“Are you okay?”
“Yeah, I am totally fine. Can I
talk to you for a few minutes?”
“Sure,” replied Lakshmi, sitting in the chair next to Banu’s bed.
Banu got up, leaned on her pillow and said to Lakshmi, “Come sit next
to me.”
As Lakshmi smiled and sat next to Banu, the latter held Lakshmi’s hand
and said, “Amma, I know you must be missing Sanjay. And, more importantly, you are feeling bad
about what happened in the evening.
Before that, there’s something that I have been wanting to share with
you ever since I moved to Mumbai.”
Looking a little concerned, Lakshmi asked, “Is everything okay, Banu?”
“As okay as it has ever been. I
will tell you something. And, I think
you must know this especially since you called me ‘Daddy’s girl’ today.”
“Oh, I just said that in a fit of pique, Banu. Don’t read too much into it.”
“No, Ma. It’s not like I was
upset that you said that. Clearly I have
not made you feel like I support you.
Amma, up until this January, when I was working here in Chennai, I must
admit that there have been times when I felt like how Sanjay did today. That you were sometimes being too set in your
ways and having us do things that you had firm convictions about. It’s just that unlike Sanjay, I wouldn’t
argue with you about them. My being a
‘daddy’s girl’ when I was here is not entirely inaccurate. I mean, I am still very attached to
Appa. In the days before I left to
Mumbai in January, I just found it enormously touching that Appa didn’t want me
to go there. I just thought it was so
sweet and protective of him to say that.
And you kept saying that I must not have any fear of living in another
city and that I must boldly take up challenges and opportunities that come my
way. So I do admit, I used to find Appa to
be so much more…what do I say…endearing, may be. But after I moved there, I realized two or
three things, Ma.”
Lakshmi smiled and said, “I am all ears. Tell me, Banu.”
“The first weekend that I was there…and, keep this to yourself,
okay? I had really bad stomach
pain. I mean, my roommates were very
friendly and supportive. But that night
that I was in bed all alone writhing in pain, I thought of you, Ma. You know why?
More than the feeling that I didn’t have you there, it was the
realization that you had grown up without having your Mother’s shoulders to cry
on when you were in pain. I mean, not
once have you talked in a self-pitying tone to me or Sanjay about the fact that
you lost your parents when you were young.
Not once. We just knew the facts
but not what you went through. The
moment I realized that, despite my own pain that night, I wanted to come and hug
you. Now that I am here…”
She hugged Lakshmi and said, “I really missed you, Ma.”
As Lakshmi struggled to not tear up, Banu continued, “Amma, the other thing
that I realized was that so much of what you have inculcated in Sanjay and me
was helping me so much at work. I hate
to sound pompous but the truth is that I am well-liked at work. People like my work ethic and commitment and
I realized when I was up there that I really owe that to you. There were things at work that I was doing subconsciously…things
like never missing deadlines and quality checking my reports thoroughly…things which people at work make out to be a big
deal. But the discipline that stemmed
out of the routines that you created for us when we were growing up, were what
made me do all that.”
“That’s so sweet of you, Banu. I really
don’t know what to say. If you don’t
mind my asking, are these things that you have shared with Appa or Sanjay?”
Banu grinned and said, “I have not.
I wanted to tell you all this before I said anything to Appa. And, Amma, Sanjay is at an age where his
world is getting bigger and he’s stepping into new territory. He’s so smart, so driven and so intent on
living life king size that he is not going to comprehend all this now. I mean, I tried talking to him about how once
he moves to the US that if he is feeling vulnerable thinking about any of us,
that he must accept that and be open about it.”
“And, what did he say?”
“You really want to know?”
“Yes, tell me!”
“He said, ‘I just got done with 4 years of boring lectures in college
and have several more to go. Can you
give me a break?!’”
They laughed together as Lakshmi said, “So typical of that little
brat!”
“Amma, jokes apart, please realize that that little brat will always
be your little brat, only a little different, as he makes new friends over
there and discovers himself fully.”
“But Banu, do you think that he will resent me? The reason I ask this is because I feel that
at school, I know that I mean well and do what I think is best for my
students. Many of my students like me,
others don’t. But every year in June, at
the start of the school year, it’s like a reset button. I get a new set of students, new challenges
and what not. So, honestly, while I
carry over the fond memories of the students that leave me, I never carry
forward any of the negativity that some students or their parents may have
harbored. But with the two of you, you
are my life, Banu. I feel almost selfish
in hoping that you will not resent me for my so called rules and yet you will
love me. You know the reason why I have
never spoken to you about my parents much.
It’s because in Appa and the two of you, I feel complete and feel
blessed with the perfect family that I didn’t have between the time my parents
passed away and the time you and Sanjay were born. I mean, my grandparents took very good care
of me and Rajan Uncle was a tremendous source of strength…but you know.”
“I understand, Ma. But, as I
told you, this is not something that you can tell Sanjay now and have him understand
all this fully. His epiphany has to come
from within. Just like the epiphany of a
girl who, before this conversation, used to be rather uncharitably dubbed as
Daddy’s girl!”
Lakshmi sheepishly grinned and said, “Okay, okay. It’s getting late. You go to sleep. I have to go to school a half-day
tomorrow. Let’s go eat lunch at Eden if
you are okay, just the two of us.”
“Sure, I’d love to.”
Lakshmi said, “Thank you so much, Banu” and gently patted her on her
cheek.
As Lakshmi got up, Banu held her arm again and asked her to lean
forward. She looked her in the eye and
said to Lakshmi, “Amma, I understand you…Sanjay will, over time. Trust me.
Go sleep well.” And, she kissed
Lakshmi on her forehead.
************