Tag: friends

Chapter Forty Eight: Duties

Praveena cherished her experience teaching in her own school. On her second day, she decorated her room. She covered the table in a white spread and placed a photo of Niveda, Anil, and herself. That picture was a reminder of the evil of drugs and its effect on wonderful relationships. She had also brought the painting she had done in college, the one with three stallions basking undisturbed in a valley. She stuck the painting on the wall behind the table so that it was the first thing any one would see when they entered the room. The rest of the wall, she left bare, unsure what to add. She had planned to collect paintings and writings from her students and display them as an exhibition one day.

Kareem had asked her to fill in as a temporary art teacher. The current teacher had left on a maternity leave. And so, Praveena met with her first class, the third year students. After a warm welcome, she asked them all to paint whatever came to their mind. At the end of the forty five minutes class, only a handful of students had finished their drawings.

“Alright, everyone.” she called as the bell signalled end of class. “leave your drawings on my desk, you can continue tomorrow.” she clapped her hands to get their attention. One by one, she saw the students examining their drawings critically as they came up to submit it. Praveena gathered all the paintings and was about to lock them away when she saw a girl, too small for her age, still poring over her drawing at the back of the class. Praveena went to her and stood over her, watching. The little girl looked up, her eyes wide in fear, at Praveena.

Praveena smiled at her, “That’s a beautiful house,” she complimented, “shall we continue tomorrow?” she held out a hand, and the girl handed over her incomplete drawing. “Thank you,” Praveena smiled. She went over to the cupboard and locked the paintings away. She then turned to the students who were all on their feet. “See you tomorrow, girls” She waved a hand at them. As she turned to leave, she noticed Mr Andrew on the doorway.

Praveena swallowed. She hadn’t expected him to be here. Mr Andrew’s face reflected her shock. “Praveena?” he asked incredulously. “you are the new art teacher?” he shook his head in disbelief.

Praveena forced a smile. “Yes, Sir” she said. “How are you?” she inquired more out of courtesy than of concern.

“Fine,” he said in a flourish. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have a class to teach.” He walked past Praveena into the class room and Praveena left as soon as she could.

She was having lunch in her room when there was a curt knock on her door. She opened the door to Ms Marrie. “Hey, Praveena!” she beamed. “How’s work?”

Praveena smiled and gestured Ms Marrie into the room. Ms Marrie took the new chair Praveena had requested. “So, how is work?” Ms Marrie repeated.

“Ah, it’s great Miss!” Praveena gleefully replied taking her seat, facing Ms Marrie. “I love it,” she said, “but, I didn’t expect to run into Mr Andrew.” she sighed.

“Ah, yes” Ms Marrie smiled apologetically, “that, I forgot to tell you.” she smiled innocently. Praveena smiled, shaking her head. “he hasn’t changed much, has he?” she observed.

“Somethings never change,” Ms Marrie nodded.

“Are any of the old teachers still here?” Praveena asked tentatively, making Ms Marrie laugh.

“Selima left about a year after you finished,” smiling at the look of relief on Praveena’s face. “and the others too have left. It’s only Andrew and me now.” She finished laughing.

Anil called Praveena on Saturday morning.

“Hey, Praveena” he spoke softly. “how are you?”

Taken unexpected by his call, she replied delightedly. “I’m great! Sounds like MBA has softened you a bit,” she laughed teasingly.

“Maybe,” he laughed too. He had called to check on her and her experience teaching. They chatted away happily for about thirty minutes.

When she disconnected the call, Praveena felt her happiness double. She smiled to herself.

As months flew by, Praveena gained a lot of friends in the form of students. She was the teacher who respected them and agreed with them when they complained about the overload of homework.

Praveena felt like a child herself when she was with her students.

One day, during lunch, the little girl from the third grade came over to her room.

“Hello, Helen” Praveena greeted her, escorting the girl into her room and helping her sit. Praveena noticed Helen’s huge, black, bloodshot eyes. “What can I do for you, Helen?” she asked gently kneeling down in front of the girl.

All of a sudden, the girl began weeping and shaking uncontrollably. Praveena hadn’t expected this. Trying not to panic, she made an effort to console the girl. She hugged her, stroking her head reassuringly.

“Helen,” she spoke softly. “What happened?” She looked at the girl who stared back at her, eyes streaming. “It’s — my father,” she stammered, difficult to speak.

“What happened to him?” Praveena asked patiently.

Helen shook her small head vigorously. “Helen…” Praveena urged quietly.

The girl sniffed away tears, trying to speak. “Dad,” she began “drinks every day and beats Mom asking for money. He hit me today,” Praveena watched helplessly as the girl’s eyes swelled with tears.

That evening, Praveena went home determined to help the girl. She wanted to talk to the girl’s father and explain the impact of his behaviour on his child.

“Pa,” Praveena spoke to her father as he came home that night. “Hmm?” he looked at her. His expression grew worried as he saw Praveena’s disturbed face.

Praveena told him of the day’s events. Kamal listened with a rising sense of dread. He didn’t like where this was going. “I’m going to talk to the father,” Praveena said with an air of finality, “and I want you to come with me,” she added and paused for his reply. She was ready to argue with him if he disagreed.

To her utter surprise, “I’ll be ready in ten minutes,” he said and left for his room.

Praveena stood in the living room, dazed.

Together Forever

Holding hands, they strolled

into jail.

It’s been a while, and I decided to get back to some six-word stories. Share some of yours too, I’d be delighted to read them.

 

Alone on Holidays

holidays

I might be late to talk about being alone for the holidays, but I just felt it.

I’m not one who needs someone by her side to feel wanted, or important, or significant.

I’m fine with watching The Abominable Bride alone on a Friday night. I’m happy with watching Friends with my Sunday brunch. And it never mattered to me that the Friday was Christmas, or the Sunday was Valentines Day. Because for me, they are just holidays.

But as I saw my friends, colleagues, and almost everyone else I know go home for the holidays, or ride to the city of alcohol to celebrate New Year’s Eve, I felt strange.

Strange — not lonely. I will never accept I’m lonely when I’m alone. I know the difference between the two and revere personal space. I wasn’t lonely, but I felt so “ungrown-up.”

Everyone I knew wanted to spend time with their spouses, children, and parents. When did everyone around me grow up so fast?

Now that I think of it, almost all of my acquaintances and friends are couples. They are either already married with kids on the way, or are just about to get married.

As for the single ones I know, they are too generous to barmaids to grow up.

Wondering about the strangeness of it all, I realized the people who went home to their spouses and kids at 6pm are the same ones who once accompanied me when I pulled an all-nighter. They were the first to volunteer to stay back and clean up after a party, they were the ones who’d take up customer calls from a different time zone and conduct midnight webinars. And now, by 6 pm, they’re gone from the office.

But I’m still here. And I still feel strange. But that doesn’t stop me from munching on some fried snack, drinking a cup of coffee, and laughing at Friends while nodding my approval at “Joey doesn’t share food.”

Chapter Forty Four: More Reflections

“A teacher?” Praveena repeated unbelieving. She had never thought of becoming a teacher. She had spent all of her student life hating teachers in general — except a handful, like Ms Marrie and James. Her prejudice had prevented the idea of becoming one. But now that Ms Marrie had mentioned it, Praveena began to wonder if teaching would be the profession for her.

Ms Marrie was looking at her, waiting for a response.

“Er –” began Praveena. This was confusing. She hadn’t expected this. “I’ve never considered it, Miss” she admitted. She didn’t want to sound like she was declining Ms Marrie’s idea, but she wanted to convey her thoughts properly as well.

“Why not?” Ms Marrie asked surprised. She rested her right hand on her folded left one, waiting for Praveena to explain her mind.

Praveena hesitated. This was tougher than she had anticipated. “Er – because – I don’t like most teachers.” she smiled apologetically.
Ms Marrie laughed silently. “So did all teachers when they were students. But what exactly is it that stops you from considering it?” ‘Damn,’ thought Praveena. Ms Marrie had always had the right words to extract anything out of her mind. Praveena smiled widely. She had decided to surrender.

“I’m scared my students would hate me.” She said, ‘there I said it. That’s what you wanted, right?’ her inner voice piped up.

“Exactly!” Ms Marrie said victoriously. “so, don’t be the kind of teacher you would hate.” she said simply, shrugging.

Praveena stared at Ms Marrie, completely lost. “Think about it, Praveena. You wanted a break. I’m saying teaching could give you that and would also teach you a lot. Think about it and then decide. But please don’t feel forced or influenced,” she finished gently. Praveena remained silent as they paid for their cappuccinos.

Bidding goodbye to Ms Marrie, Praveena took the bus that went in the opposite direction from Ms Marrie’s place. When she got home it was a late in the evening. Wandering into the kitchen wondering about dinner, she planned to make chapattis, her father’s favourite.

As she folded the flour into water, Ms Marrie’s advice kept bothering her. Ms Marrie seemed to think that she’d make a good teacher. Why had she never thought of it herself? ‘ ou always thought teaching was not for you without even understanding why,’ She nodded in approval at her inner voice.

Now that she thought about it, she began to consider teaching. What would she teach? She was only a psychology graduate. ‘Alright,’ she thought. ‘Even if I were to teach psychology in some school, would they accept an undergraduate? Aren’t teachers supposed to be highly qualified?’ She stopped mixing the dough and crossed her arms across her chest. She couldn’t possibly be a teacher. ‘Besides,’ she thought, ‘why would I want to be a teacher in the first place?’

She kept mulling over this question, forgetting the half finished chapattis. Covering the bowl of dough with a plate, she left the kitchen, her mind racing.

Praveena went over to the living room and lowered herself on the couch. She crouched in a comfortable position, thinking.

‘What is a teacher’s purpose?’ she asked herself. Her inner voice replied smugly, ‘teaching!’ Praveena cracked her knuckles. ‘Teaching, yes. Teaching a subject’ she smiled to herself. ‘That’s it?’ she challenged her inner voice. ‘For a typical teacher, yes’ her inner voice responded wisely. ‘But it’s not so for teachers like Ms Marrie and James.’

Praveena smiled wider now. She agreed with her inner voice. The two teachers she respected the most, the two people who, according to her, did complete justice to the role of a teacher. ‘Why?’ her inner voice asked teasingly. “because they didn’t just teach the subject, they helped me and a lot others understand themselves better.” Praveena exclaimed, irritated with her inner voice for testing her.

‘That’s why you should be a teacher.’ her inner voice ended jubilantly. Praveena understood. She was the girl who was upset because some aimless person had given up on himself and his beliefs. She had expected people to be better individuals. That doesn’t come easily. Someone has to instil that in young children. That’s what she would do if she became a teacher. She would help her students realize their potential and help them build a better society to live in. She wanted her students to help fellow countrymen. They would have a society that sympathizes with other people’s problems.

‘But,’ her inner voice broke in gently. ‘Remember, we live in a society that doesn’t want to he helped. They don’t want to live better. They prefer the sewers and try to pull in the others as well.’

‘Yes,’ Praveena agreed with her inner voice. ‘and that’s why we need to teach it to children, and not adults. This generation is gone to waste, all we can do is help the next.’

‘What’s the use?’ the inner voice asked exasperated. ‘you are just one person, you can’t change the world alone.’ Praveena agreed. Her inner voice had a realistic point, ‘but I don’t want to change the world. I know I can’t do that. I will be happy if I could change just one person’s world. Knowing that I helped one student lead a better life is enough to make me happy.’ she thought earnestly.

Her inner voice said no more. Praveena knew it was the right thing to do. She was aware that her beliefs would be tested, but she would overcome them. She wasn’t the same worried little girl she had been in school. She remembered what Ms Marrie had told her all those years ago: she could either shun away from the society that continuously threatens her behaviour, or she could face society with the satisfaction of changing at least one person.

She had chosen a way.

Chapter Forty Three: A Suggestion

Early on Monday morning, Praveena reached Chennai her mind temporarily clear. By the time she reached home, the sun had risen and begun to scorch the earth. Her father hadn’t returned from Kerala and after a confirmation call that he would return that night, Praveena washed and made herself some toast and tea.

Curling up on the couch, she switched on the television. Her favourite cartoon was on and she sat through the morning pampering her backside. A complete rest for the body and mind, she convinced herself.

A couple of hours through, she fell asleep. She had felt her eyes drooping and had made no effort to stay awake. She was too tired to even go up to her room.

She woke up to growling stomach at three o’clock in the afternoon. She sat up drowsily and sucked on her dry mouth. After another alarm from her stomach, she rose, stretching herself.

She went to the kitchen, rubbing her eyes to clear her vision. One look at the messy kitchen and she decided she wan’t in the mood for cooking. She made left over bread toast. Once she had silenced her stomach, she had a sudden impulse to clean the kitchen.

She collected all unwashed dishes into the sink, and arranged all the other items back into place. She washed all the dishes sparkly clean and after replacing them in their racks, stood back to enjoy the result of her work.

The kitchen looked much neater than the way her father maintained it. She smiled to herself. As she turned to go back to the couch, she felt a searing pain in her back. As she painfully walked over to the couch, she chided herself for pulling on much work on herself. She slumped heavily on the couch swearing to herself, ‘I’m never doing that again.’

After a typical day at home, Praveena had had enough. She thought of her mother who had spent her days at home doing household chores. If that’s what people expected her to do in future, she decided she was better off without any of those. She wondered about it when her phone rang unexpectedly.

It was Ms Marrie. Praveena frowned at the phone, as it continued to ring. Why was Ms Marrie calling her? It was always she who made the first call. An emergency?

Perplexed, she answered. “Hello?” she said doubtful.

“Hi Praveena, it’s Marrie.” said Ms Marrie’s voice enthusiastically. “Did I disturb you?”

Ms Marrie had taken Praveena by surprise. “No, – er – no, Miss.” Praveena stammered, not sure how to answer.

“Can I meet you, Praveena?” Ms Marrie asked hopefully, like a child pleading with her mother for permission to go play outside.

“Yes, Miss. Sure.” Praveena replied courteously. “Where?”

“Thanks, how about “The Latte” in an hour?” she asked hopefully.

“Sure, I’ll be there, Miss.” Praveena smiled forgetting yet again, that Ms Marrie couldn’t see her.

Praveena sat staring at her phone. Ms Marrie hadn’t sounded disappointed, she hadn’t sounded distressed or depressed. Then why, Praveena wondered, did she suddenly want to meet her? ‘Let’s find out!’

Forty five minutes later, when Praveena entered “The Latte,” she saw Ms Marrie at the farthest corner, reading the menu. She looked just the way did during Praveena’s school days. She had pulled her hair back in a pony and wore a purple sari that matched the white watch on her right wrist. “The Latte” was a popular coffee shop known for its fully glassed walls with a 360 degree view of the world outside. Sunlight streamed inside and as Praveena walked over to Ms Marrie, she noticed the circles of reflective light bouncing off the ceiling.

“Hello, Miss.” she smiled. Ms Marrie looked up from the menu with a wide smile that Praveena hadn’t seen in a long time. Ms Marrie gestured her to take a seat. She did. “You seem happy, Miss” Praveena observed, smiling. She felt blissful looking at the glow on Ms Marrie’s face. She spoke with a new ease and comfort. It was freedom, as if the teacher-student barrier between them had come crashing down. It was as if they were two friends, randomly meeting in a coffee shop. Praveena could understand the feeling.

Ms Marrie nodded silently. She ordered two cappuccinos, which arrived quickly. Praveena waited. She knew now that Ms Marrie hadn’t called her to discuss personal sorrows. This was more of a friendly meeting. She could tell from Ms Marrie’s behaviour.

Sipping her cappuccino, Ms Marrie smiled at Praveena. “How was your graduation day?” she asked unexpectedly.

“Hmm…” Praveena hesitated, “it was alright, but it was tiring.” She sighed heavily shaking her head.

Ms Marrie nodded understandingly. “How was Prathap’s speech?” she asked a tiny smile playing on her lips.

“Oh, that,” began Praveena ready to complain all she could about the lecture. But she paused as she realized something. “you know the principal?” she asked incredulously.

Ms Marrie nodded leaning on her chair. “Prathap was my classmate. He loved advising, even as a student,” she added irritably.

Praveena needed a minute to soak that piece of information. She imagined Ms Marrie and Professor Prathap in the same classroom, possibly in the same bench. “It would have been tiresome,” she accidentally wondered aloud.

“Ha,” Ms Marrie laughed. “that, it was.” she smiled reassuringly as Praveena looked at her shamefully.

“Anyway,” Ms Marrie continued. “I heard he gave valuable advice, even if he wasn’t clever enough to think of it on his own.” she said raising eyebrows at Praveena.

Praveena didn’t know how to respond. She knew her principal’s advice was based on reality and conventions, but she had felt it hard to accept it. She told that to Ms Marrie who nodded silently.

“I know what you mean,” Ms Marrie said after awhile. “Anyway,” she continued, draining the last of her coffee, “what did your father say about starting that non-profit organization? I spoke to a few of my friends and they’ve agreed to help us out.” she added a bit serious.

Praveena felt a rush of gratitude at Ms Marrie’s words. She appreciated the efforts Ms Marrie had made for her, “Thank you, Miss,” she said, overwhelmed by her kindness, “but I’ve decided to delay my plans.” she said unhappily.

Ms Marrie looked curiously at her. “But, why?” she asked surprised.

Praveena told Ms Marrie about Kamal’s response and his advice against the organization. Ms Marrie listened without interrupting. As Praveena ended sadly, Ms Marrie made a sudden suggestion, “Why don’t you become a teacher, Praveena?”