Tag: looking back

Chapter Forty Seven: Change is Good

Ms Marrie escorted Praveena through a path she knew so well, but it all seemed new somehow. She guessed Mr Kareem had been doing well as new principal. Ms Marrie stopped in front of a door that had a tiny metal plate with the words,

Kareem,
Principal.

Praveena turned to Ms Marrie in astonishment. She remembered Principal Vanitha’s name plate, which listed her degrees. Smiling to herself, Praveena rejoiced the school was in responsible hands.

“He’s expecting you. Go ahead.” Ms Marrie smiled reassuringly gesturing Praveena to go inside. Praveena knocked once and a gruff voice told her to enter. She did. “Good morning Sir,” she smiled walking up to his table.

A well-built middle aged man, Kareem had dark and overgrown flyaway hair. He wore a black short-sleeved shirt, and Praveena noticed a pair of spectacles lying untouched on his desk. He had his locked palms resting against his chin examining a piece of paper as Praveena entered.

“Please,” he smiled courteously at Praveena “call me Kareem.”

Praveena’s mouth fell open. She quickly closed it, but not before he had seen it. He laughed, a soft and musical laugh.

“So,” Kareem said once he had stopped laughing. “Ms Kamal. Why don’t you take a seat?” he gestured at the chair facing him. She did, thoroughly nonplussed at the principal’s behaviour.

“Now, Ms Kamal –” he began, but stopped short, “mind if I call you Praveena? It’s a bit easier,” he smiled. Praveena noticed the way his eyes crinkled every time he smiled.

“Please,” she replied easily. For the first time, she felt comfortable in this room.

“Thanks,” he smiled. “Praveena,” he said in a more serious tone, “you are an old student,” she nodded, “so you would know this place quite well. I’ve made changes to this school, and hope you like them.”

“What if I don’t?” Praveena asked playfully. She regretted it the very next second. She wasn’t sure what had come over her. But Kareem didn’t look angry, he didn’t even look irritated. Instead, he smiled slightly. Praveena hadn’t expected that.

“Well, if you don’t like it,” he smiled “you don’t have to.” He continued, laughing at Praveen’s shocked expression.

Praveena took some time to recover. “I’m sorry,” she said her eyes cast down.

“Don’t be!” Kareem exclaimed joyfully. “I like your enthusiasm.” Praveena looked at him smiling slightly. He returned the gesture.

“Well,” he grew serious again, “we need an extra teacher, and I’m personally glad we could get an old student for the position. We’ll discuss your salary later, but first, I think your students are waiting to meet their new class teacher.” he raised his eyebrows. “Marrie will show you your class. Good luck, Praveena!” he stood up and smiled.

Praveena stood up as well. “Thank you, Sir –” Kareem glared at her, and she quickly corrected herself, “Kareem,” she nodded with a smile and left the room, satisfied with herself.

They didn’t say anything to each other but Praveena’s look conveyed everything Ms Marrie had wanted to know. Praveena’s joy was obvious.

Ms Marrie led Praveena through familiar corridors. She went past her own room and stopped in front of the next one.

“Ta-da!” she exclaimed gleefully, gesturing at the closed door. “Welcome to your room,” she smiled.

Praveena hadn’t expected her own room. Ms Marrie opened the room and Praveena walked inside. There was an empty desk with a chair in the centre of the room. Apart from that, the room was void of furniture or decoration. The walls were bare except for the gleaming white paint.

“You can decorate it any way you want.” Ms Marrie announced. Praveena wheeled to face Ms Marrie who leant on the doorway looking bemused at her astonishment. “Kareem’s rule” she added.

“Come on,” Ms Marrie gestured. Praveena walked out of the room, and Ms Marrie handed her the key. Praveena didn’t know what to make of all the strange, but wonderful things Kareem had done to her school.

Ms Marrie next stopped in front of a class Praveena recognized as her classroom during the final year in school. They were the senior-most students, and it was another surprise to see all the students conversing in low tones. Praveena looked at Ms Marrie, suddenly nervous. “Go ahead.” Ms Marrie smiled reassuringly with a gentle pat on her shoulder.

Praveena took a deep sigh, and thinking of James’ first class in college, walked inside the room.

As soon as she entered, a hush fell through the room. She placed her file on the table and faced the students. There were about fifty of them, and Praveena saw eager eyes staring into hers. On the walls hung random paintings and crafts. A particular origami peacock that sat in a corner table caught Praveena’s eye.

Suddenly, she felt comfortable in the room. They were students, they were here to learn something, ‘not unlike yourself,’ her inner voice finished her thought.

“Hello everyone,” she began simply. “I’m Praveena, an old student, now your class teacher.” she smiled. All of them stood up in unison, and said greeted her in one voice, “Welcome back, Ms Praveena.”

Praveena was taken aback. The students, just like their principal, had a way of making new people feel comfortable and welcome.

The first day was smooth. The students were easy to talk to, they were a curious lot and Praveena told them about herself and learned their names.

Suddenly a girl stood up and asked, “What subject do you teach, Miss?”

“I’m a substitute. And…” she stalled. “It’s my first day. Must we talk about work?” she asked smiling. So did the girl, whose name was Grace.

For the first time in her life, Praveena looked forward to school the next day.

Being Messy

being messy

Whether you’re sulking about life, complaining about the neighbour’s loud kids, or panting from running away from a street dog, sometimes, one good piece of writing is all you need to calm yourself and see beyond your range of vision.

This poem was one of those. There’s so much to life than being fresh and clean all the time. There’s more than a well-made bed, laundered linen, warm meals, chilled wine, and a comfort zone.

This poem reminded me: There’s life in being messy.

Dirty Face

Where did you get such a dirty face,
My darling dirty-faced child?

I got it from crawling along in the dirt
And biting two buttons off Jeremy’s shirt.
I got it from chewing the roots of a rose
And digging for clams in the yard with my nose.
I got it from peeking into a dark cave
And painting myself like a Navajo brave.
I got it from playing with coal in the bin
And signing my name in cement with my chin.
I got it from rolling around on the rug
And giving the horrible dog a big hug.
I got it from finding a lost silver mine
And eating sweet blackberries right off the vine.
I got it from ice cream and wrestling and tears
And from having more fun than you’ve had in years.

– Shel Silverstein

Chapter Forty Six: Another Home

Praveena wanted to tell Anil everything that had happened since she last saw him. She called him the next afternoon during his lunch break.

“Hey, how are you?” he exclaimed delighted.

“Brilliant!” Praveena laughed as excited as he.

“Good!” Anil replied. Praveena sensed amusement in his voice and understood why. He had never heard her so thrilled.

She told him about her decision to teach. “Like James, you know,” she said. “and Ms Marrie,” she went on without realizing he had said nothing more than a tiny sound of acknowledgment. “hmm-hmm!” he egged her on, and that was more than enough for Praveena.

He listened without interrupting. Praveena couldn’t possibly know the wide smile that played across Anil’s lips throughout her narrative; he liked to listen to her voice. She had thought of him, and he was happy she wanted to share her life happenings with him. He felt important, and he told her that.

“Great to know you still think of me, Praveena.” he said as she had finished her story.

“Of course I think of you, you idiot!” she said carelessly. “you’re my best friend!”

“Yeah…” replied Anil, trying to disguise the disappointment in his voice. Praveena, however, noticed the difference.

“Hey!” she said subdued. “You don’t sound so good. Any problems?” she asked growing concerned. He had been listening intently but his lack of words had just struck her.

“No, no,” he waved it off. “Nothing.” He changed the topic. “So,” he said “when do you officially become a teacher?” he asked with a tinge of laughter in his voice.

“No idea,” she replied. “Next Monday, probably” she said. It was only Wednesday. She had four more days.

“Oh, good.” Anil replied. “Teacher!” he added mockingly.

“Hey!” Praveena exclaimed indignantly.

“Alright, alright.” Anil laughed. “No swearing.”

Anil’s laughter was contagious. And they laughed together for no reason.

Anil recovered first. “So what happens to those drug addicts?” he asked. He made it sound funny but he was serious in every way. And so was Praveena when she replied, “They’ll have to wait.” She smiled sadly into her mobile, “First, I’m going to prevent their children from falling into drugs.”

“You’re the best.” Anil said appreciatively.

“I know,” Praveena winked.

Praveena told Kamal about her conversation with Ms Marrie and added that she would join on Monday. He listened intently, and when she finished, “Good,” he sounded satisfied. “All the best.”

Praveena was surprised. “Thanks, Pa!” she said taken aback, yet happy.

Praveena later informed Ms Marrie of her joining date. Ms Marrie was visibly thrilled. “I’m so glad you decided to do this, Praveena,” she encouraged. “This will do you good. Trust me.” Praveena smiled. “Thank you, Miss.” Even if she couldn’t fully discern Ms Marrie’s meaning, she knew it would be good.

Monday morning, Praveena woke up early. She wore a white cheddar — the South Indian traditional. When she came down for breakfast, she was overcome by a sense of nostalgia. She thought back to her school days when she walked down the same staircase. She imagined her mother reading on the couch, and her father swinging his arms, as he came in from his morning walk. Smiling to herself, Praveena went over to the dining table, where her father had set up breakfast.

“Hey you!” he exclaimed in surprise. He hadn’t seen his daughter in a chudidhar for a long time. She had always preferred jeans. “You look beautiful,” he complimented.

‘Thanks, Pa.” Praveena smiled widely. It felt good to make her father smile.

After a hearty breakfast of idlis and chutney, Praveena bade her father goodbye.

“Shall I drop you?” he asked.

Praveena shook her head smiling. “It’s ok, Pa.”

Praveena entered her old school, and saw the buildings and trees in their same places. But everything had changed. The blue buildings in her time had all gone white. It was the first thing Praveena noticed and it made her smile. She had always hated principal Vanitha’s awful colour choices. It seemed like the new principal had a liking for white.

The trees weren’t pruned as they were in Principal Vanitha’s period. They grew as they wished and Praveena was delighted to see a lot of green and yellow leaves strewn all over the pathway leading to the Principal’s office. ‘This is going to be good!’ her delighted inner voice said, and Praveena readily agreed.

She had already told Ms Marrie and sure enough, Ms Marrie waited for her in front of the same Principal’s office, with a wide smile.

Praveena approached her, positive she had made a good decision. “How does our school look?” Ms Marrie asked earnestly. Praveena smiled. She felt content like never before. “Lovely.” she smiled. She had once hated the school, but it now felt like home. As if she had had looked all over for a home and had finally found it, right here in her old school.

Ms Marrie smiled in delight.

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.