Category: Memoirs

My father passed away 4,382 days ago. Today is therefore his 12th Death Anniversary. I normally try my best to steer clear of all thoughts and memories of him as they make me incredibly sad. But this time, I wanted to write about what happened that day and see where the process would lead me. It definitely was filled with mixed emotions. One of the many things I noticed after writing this is that I have no recollection whatsoever of things like – what my brother was doing that day, how my mother came home from the hospital and whether or not she was at the cemetery during the burial. I do however remember the colour of the t-shirt I wore and the place where I had breakfast.

***

13 June 2009, Guntur

My cousin Kamal woke me up at around 5:30 in the morning. After having dinner at Shankar Vilas Restaurant the previous night with my brother and another cousin, I went to sleep at my aunt’s place. My brother went back to St. Joseph’s Hospital where we had stayed the entire day, to be with my mother. My father was in the ICU, still alive. Kamal told me that we’ve been called to the hospital. We both got ready and left for the hospital in an auto. It was about a 10 minute commute to the hospital. We both sat in silence for those 10 minutes.

We entered the hospital building through a narrow corridor that turned right and opened into a large hall which had staircases, ramps and other pathways to various sections of the hospital. The ICU was on the ground floor attached to a waiting hall for attendants and family members. It was early morning so the hospital was silent without much activity. Soon after entering, I saw my mother lying on a wooden bench weeping, her face covered in her arms. My grandfather (my mother’s father) stood grimly against a pillar near by. I thought I saw tears in his eyes. My cousin Munna was sitting on the stairs to the left. I asked him what the situation was and he told me that they’ve just taken the body from the ICU to the ambulance from a back exit. 

I sat beside Munna on the stairs. I looked at my grandfather and realised that he was crying silently. I wondered what must have been going through his mind. His daughter has just become a widow. My mother seemed exhausted from crying. I think my brother was sitting on that bench with her. I don’t clearly remember. There were other family members too in that hall, but I cannot seem to recall. Few more family members reached the hospital by the time we started back home to Tenali. It was a 45-50 minute drive. I sat in the front seat of some car. I don’t remember who else was in the car with me. I don’t know where my mother and brother were. The ambulance was in front of the car that I was sitting in.

By the time we reached home, the apartment building was buzzing with activity. I remember Victor uncle, our neighbour and my father’s friend, hugging me as soon as he saw me come upstairs. I thought about how Victor uncle used to make fun of how much my father used to pamper me. I went inside my home and changed my shirt. I wore a light yellow t-shirt. After some time I went to have breakfast near the railway station with my brother, Kamal and Munna. I don’t recall what we spoke during that breakfast.

My school friends came to meet me later that day. Some of my friend’s parents, my mother’s friends and my father’s colleagues from work as well. My mother was inconsolable the entire time. She was surrounded by family and friends. I was moving in and out of the house for one reason or the other when an aunt remarked that I was handling the whole situation bravely. I had no idea that I was.

By late afternoon, the coffin, with my father in it, was placed on a table on the ground floor of the building. People sat around it in chairs. A garlanded photo of my father was placed near it. I was eventually made to sit with my mother and my brother beside the coffin. I sat there silently for some time when something inside me broke and I finally started to cry. It went on for some time. Kamal hugged me as I cried. Then an uncle hugged and tried to console me. I don’t remember exactly for how long my crying lasted, but looking back, I wish it had lasted longer.

As evening fell, we were on our way to the cemetery. We stopped near a church for some prayers. After the prayers, my school Principal Suraj sir spoke about my father and his close association with him. Talking about me and my brother, he said that we were good kids and that he is confident that we would have a bright future.

I was walking amidst the crowd as we entered the cemetery. Someone from the crowd insisted that I carry the coffin at least for some distance since I was the son. I did as told. By the time we reached the spot, a pit was already dug up. The hole was neatly cemented and plastered. After some more prayers, the coffin was closed and placed inside. I am half sure that my mother was also there. I was made to throw in some dirt into the pit, and some flowers. The workers then closed the pit using stone slabs, bricks and cement. People started to leave one by one. Close family members stayed until the work was completed. We left the cemetery and went home before it was completely dark. My life, my world and even my identity were never the same after that day.

***

When I was at my aunt’s place the night before, the thoughts that kept me occupied were the upcoming semester exams and chatting with my then girl friend. My father died after a 7-8 month battle against cancer. It wasn’t much of a battle really. The unwonted thing about the whole experience for me is that during that entire period, I was not aware that he had cancer and that it was terminal. It seems absolutely bizarre and implausible but even while walking into the hospital that morning, I had no clue that he was in the ICU because he was fighting a losing battle against cancer. Since I was close to him and he loved me dearly and always protected me, everyone thought that it would be best if I was not told about his condition. They wanted to protect me, also perhaps hoping that he would recover.

But the thing about cancer is, it makes itself quite obvious. Especially if you are living with the person in the same house. One should be able to spot a cancer patient without much difficulty, if not initially, definitely in the advanced stages. Even though I was at college during those 7-8 months, I visited home regularly. I saw that he was losing weight, he stopped going to office, he coughed all day, his hair fell. I even went to some chemotherapy sessions with him. I was witness to all of this and yet I was completely blind. I can say for sure that I was not lying to myself and pretending that it was all going to be alright. I just did not know. People did not tell me. I could not see. How is that even possible?

People say that the dead appear as if they’re peacefully asleep. I have no idea how my father looked that day because I could not bring myself to look at him. Not even once. I could not even look in the general direction in which the coffin was placed. I don’t know – what my last conversation with my father was about, when he last kissed me, when we both laughed together or when I just touched him. My brother told me later that even though no one told him what was going on, he went through some of the medical records and after searching online, found out what was happening. Why did I not do the same? Did I not care for him? Was I that stupid? How could I be occupied in trivial things while the person who loved me the most in the world was dying right in front of me? Was it some kind of cognitive bias with the mind seeing only what it wants to see? Was it what they call ‘Maya’? There are so many questions with no answers. So many mistakes with no excuses.

Elaborating on how the whole experience changed my life is too big a task for me now. Simply put, life changed in every possible way. For several months after that day, I kept having nightmares. While I did have close family members and friends to talk to, I did not know what to talk about. Not long after, I broke up with my then girl friend. Needless to say, my relationship with my mother and brother changed significantly. As the years passed, people seemed to have moved on and slowly stopped talking about my father. Even today, we rarely talk about him. There will be some messages in the family WhatsApp group on his birth and death anniversaries. I do not say anything and I try not to respond to any of the messages. Living away from home means that it is easy for me to avoid going home for Good Friday and Easter. I remain silent when people talk about him and I always try to distract myself from thinking about him – present blog entry excluded.

***

But is it okay for me to try and grieve now for a person who died 12 years ago? Doesn’t that make me arrogant? I was unable to see what was right in front of me all those years ago and then instead of being ashamed and feeling guilty, I kept trying to distract myself from reality. Is this not arrogance? Considering what had happened due to the pandemic during the past several months and how it had shattered lakhs of families, does my grief even matter now?

On the other hand, I get a feeling that grieving for someone who passed away implies that I am seeing myself as being in possession of life. As if I am going to live forever. The truth however is that death is the only thing certain in this uncertain life of mine. Doesn’t then grieving for someone else automatically make me arrogant? When I started to write this, it was not my desire to complete 14 paragraphs only to end up pondering whether attempting to grieve for my father is just me being arrogant. I am still not entirely sure that it is. It could be arrogance or it could be the inevitable tragedy of human sentience. It could also be both.

Thanks for reading.

***

Hello there. Before you continue reading, let me first tell you that this piece is a small story from my school days. This happened when our Principal sir somehow decided that our school needed an advertisement in the local City Siti Cable channel. His enthusiastic idea eventually turned out to be a forgettable venture for me. But apparently, I couldn’t forget it. Not that I didn’t try. I just couldn’t. Therefore like most of such things, I decided to write about it. I hope you find it interesting.

 

Let me start with my school. St. John’s English Medium School. It is in every way more than just a school for me. Even today, I consider it my home. I studied there from LKG to 10th class. It was were I grew up. Literally and figuratively. Everyone and everything there remains to be a part of my life. This advertisement story took place when I was in my 9th class, 2003-04.

One afternoon, few kids from 9th and 10th classes were selected and made to sit in the computer lab. It was not for a class though. It was for shooting a promotional video for the school, the first ever in its history (My school was established in 1972) and so we were the chosen few. Our Principal sir was going to direct the entire video along with a professional camera man. Rather than taking montage shots (with desi voice over) of studying children and teachers clarifying doubts, he had decided to make the students say some one liners about the facilities in the school. I still remember some of them.

Example:

Gang leader: We have all round personality development…. *proudly*
Gang members: Only at St. John’s!! *loudly*

You get the idea right? Out of the box in those days.

So back in the computer lab that day, the first shot featured my senior, a 10th class girl named Ramya (very pretty) who had to turn to her left, look into the camera and say,

“Audio visual media help us in understanding our lessons better.”

She was told her line by sir and within five minutes, her shot was done. She did it with such grace and poise, one might think she was a professional actress.

Meanwhile I was sitting in the lab with a couple of my friends, making fun of the proceedings. We thought we were back up junior artists. Eye candy, like those bikini girls behind Dons in South Indian films. But no. After Ramya’s shot was over, Principal sir came straight to me. Oh God!! Why me?! Don’t get me wrong. I wasn’t a shy fellow back then. I was one of the popular kids (mostly because of my seniority there and also because of my unusual name) I was a good student, I got good marks, I participated in all events and won several prizes in most of them. Dances, quiz, debates etc. Like I said, the school was home to me. It is only natural that sir wanted me to be in the video. But unfortunately, what happened then was his miscalculation doing lungi-dance right infront of him.

I still remember and I perhaps will never forget what happened. My instructions were simple. When sir says “Action,” I have a turn back, look into the camera and say,

“We are provided with excellent graphic and animated computer software, to support our curriculum.”

In my defense, it was the lengthiest line of the entire project. It was the “Yemantivi yemantivi..” of our video, or so it felt. I admit I was at first confident that I could do it easily. Afterall,  I was a born artist. Then it began, the Downfall. My first take went horribly wrong. It happens right? But things went downhill from there so fast. If the dialogue was right, my voice wasn’t loud enough. If it was loud, the pronunciation was wrong. If the pronunciation was right, he dialogue was incomplete. Things became so awkward, it was not even funny like those blooper reels. Even after innumerable attempts, I was unable to even finish my line. With every wrong take, I could sense the  growing tension and uneasiness in the room.

Senior girls, including Ramya, started to giggle and not for the right reasons also. Some of the other kids began practicing my line and it made me more nervous. Even though Principal sir was kind enough to let me go on for a while, I knew that he was feeling sorry for me. Kind man. But I kept going, like Manchu brothers and their movies, with one failed attempt after another,

We are provided with excellent software computers..

We are provided with excellent computer graphics..

We are provided with animated computer that supports our curriculum… 

You might be laughing at me now but I tell you, it was not that easy. As I sat there while my utter humiliation was being recorded, my respect towards every actor ever began to grow by leaps and bounds. The entire debacle was more cringe worthy than watching Pawan Kalyan speak in his fake american accent.

After what felt like an eternity, I finally got it right. My voice was loud enough and I managed to complete the entire line. It felt as if the entire room was secretly celebrating the end of my fiasco. They were evidently more relieved than me. Even the camera man was like, “Thank God!! Now kick this fellow out!!” It was not even a digital camera. I don’t want to know how much of the cassette I had wasted. My ordeal was finally over. No wait, there is more.

After a couple of days of shooting, the video was completed. We were told to keep watching City Siti Cable during the 9 ‘O’ clock movie. My family sat infront of the TV waiting eagerly while I was feeling a little embarrassed and shy. Then the advertisement finally started. After some nice montage shots, some small children sang how much they enjoyed playing, those Gang members said that their personality developed in an allround fashion and when Ramya spoke about Audio visual media, my heart began to pound. But as you might have guessed by now, I wasn’t there in the video. They edited me out. The final attempt wasn’t successful. They just wanted to finish and leave. My mom felt so bad for me. Even though my dad told tried to console me, I knew he must’ve been laughing inside. I was only glad my mom did not tell all her friends, or did she? I don’t want to know also. In all the bad experiences anyone can face in school, this I believe is the most tragic. Okay if you leave Malala’s experience, this is the most tragic.

Oh boy. I cannot believe I told you this story. I have to admit, even though it was humiliating and awkward for a day or two, it did not matter after that. It was school, where things didn’t matter much once the final bell rang. The advertisement became a thing of the past. Today as I sit back and think, I fondly remember that incident as the time I was almost famous.

Hey talking about being almost famous, do you want to see something cool? Check this out,

 

 

If you look  closely (not at Mohanlal but at the two handsome young men in the back ground,) that is me sitting behind my brother. I am looking sexy in my shorts as I carry two boxes of chicken momos.  I am however not sure how to feel about this. Anyway, this is my tragic venture into showbiz that ended even before it started. That is all for now my dear reader. See you next time. Tata 🙂

P.S. The next year, they decided to make some changes to the video. As if last years humiliation was not enough, I was cast as one of the gang members that had to shout, “Only at St. John’s!!” Kill me please.

It was a beautiful Winter morning today. I spotted a blue Kingfisher from the balcony along with a couple of green Bee-eaters and yes some crows as well. The stray dogs were chasing each other mostly due to their territorial disputes. Lovely. This has been a hectic week in the social media, the only ‘social’ life I have right now. Several discussions and arguments. Almost all the group chats, tweets and news articles had polarizing views about something or the other. People seemed all riled up and aggressive. Funny things these opinions. I decided to divert myself from all this for a while and focus on my upcoming endeavors, but not before writing a small piece for the blog. This is a small incident from eleven years ago. I wanted to write about it for a long time but couldn’t for one reason or the other. I am glad that I manged to write this today and it feels right.

When?

The year was 2005. Fresh after finishing my tenth class, like most kids back then, I joined Sri Chaitanya Jr College, Vijayawada so that like my brother I would get into an IIT. The initial days were filled with excitement. Making friends from all over the state and yes studying too. Since my dad worked in the same city at that time (he traveled everyday) he used to visit me two or three times in a week. Sometimes during lunch hours and sometimes during the night after his office hours. It was on this day eleven year ago, 11th November 2005, that this happened.

The night before i.e, 10th November 2005, I was too excited to sleep.

Why?

November 11th is my dad’s birthday. Since I was in hostel and my brother was far away in IIT-Madras, my dad said that he would come from office and take me out for lunch before going back home to my mom. But there were some problems.

1. These residential colleges will not allow students to skip classes, especially on weekdays.Study hours in the evening? Yes. But not classes. No matter who you were, you have to take the Principal’s permission.

2. Since my dad visited every couple of days, and most of the times he took me out, at least for some ice cream, the Principal wouldn’t be willing to permit me once again.

3. It was a Friday and we had weekly tests on Saturdays and Sundays.

I was afraid that they wouldn’t let me go out that day. I needed a plan.

How?

On November 11th 2005, I woke early in the morning and took a shower and wore some bright colored clothes (Red T-Shirt if I remember correctly.) If you have any idea how often kids bathed in those hostels and how carelessly they dressed, this is when you should be surprised (Winter mind you.) Classes began at 6 am as usual and continued till 12:30 with a break for breakfast in-between. Our last class before lunch was Trigonometry taught by none other than our Principal Krishna Reddy sir. A tall, casually dressed well built man with a distinct voice. He was strict. I sat in the first bench near the entrance/exit. People often sat there so that they can run back to the hostel, which was few hundred yards away, to get to the telephone booth before the queue forms. Even I did that on most days. I was going to run on that day too but for a different reason.

I had to execute my plan or else it’ll again be my father pleading the Principal for permission. No. I wasn’t going to let that happen. Not on his birthday.

As soon as the bell rang, even before sir could leave the room, I ran out of the class and reached the hostel building. I had to be there before he reaches his office in the basement.

The timing was perfect because I knew that the store in the basement would open by the time kids came back to the hostel for lunch. The lady was setting up her store by the time I reached. I quickly bought a few chocolates (KismiBar and BarOne I think) and waited near the gate. Like I said, I was dressed colorfully and as soon as he entered the building, I went towards the Principal and gave him the chocolates. He very gracefully smiled and wished me

“Happy Birthday!”

“No sir. It is not my birthday. It is my father’s.” He looked surprised and laughed.

“You’re giving chocolates on your father’s birthday?” I smiled. He did not know what to say and I don’t blame him. These things don’t happen everyday.

“Hehe.. All the best.”  he said and walked away to his office.

Then?

I went to my room and changed into something more comfortable and waited for my father. When he finally came, he was hesitant as usual to ask for permission. I walked right behind him into the Principal’s office and as soon as we entered, Krishna Reddy sir stood up and wished him

“Happy Birthday sir!” they shook hands. My dad was surprised and looked at me.

“Your son is distributing chocolates on your birthday.” I smiled back at him. My father also started to laugh.

“You want to take him out for lunch?” both of them looked at me and I nodded. He did not have to ask at all. Haha.

“I will bring him back by evening.” my dad said and that was it.

I don’t remember where we had lunch that day. May be Crossroads or Sweet Magic or Ilapuram or some other place that we usually went on our outings. I am not sure if we had ice-cream outside that modern super market in Besant road like we did almost every time.

Looking back today, I wish I could’ve remembered more from that day. But I guess that’s the silly thing about life. It can only go one way. However, I know for sure that on that one day, I was a very happy kid and today I doubt if I will ever be that happy again in life. I can only learn to live in the moment and treasure memories.

What now?

I don’t know. That is all I wanted to say I suppose. Birthdays don’t really interest me anymore. Mine or others. I feel equally awkward wishing people and while people wish me. I am however going to make an exception for today.

Happy Birthday daddy.

Hey there readers. All seven of you. Thanks for dropping by. I wanted to narrate some stories from my life and selected one while I was in the shower yesterday. But here’s the deal. I was having trouble going into the details and the details that I have gone into are a little embarrassing for me to admit out in the open. So I figured the only way I can tell you this without feeling ashamed is if I talk this out with the only person who is more shameless than me: ‘Me from 2007’ So that is exactly what I did and here is a copy of our (my) conversation.

Past Me: Hello there. Looks like you’ve put on some weight.

Me: Fuck you bitch!!

Past Me: Woah Woah!!

Me: Sorry. I’m sorry.

Past Me: What’s that man?! Where did that come from?

Me: Sorry man. I am sensitive about my body. Anyway that’s not why I am here.

PM: Okay so you want me to talk about that Blue Pears story right? Ask me whatever you need to know. I have nothing to hide.

Me: You’re not embarrassed?

PM: Seriously? You’re like 27 now and are writing stupid blog posts about stupid things you have done in life for thousands of people on the internet and you’re asking me if I am embarrassed?

Me: It’s actually 7.

PM: What?

Me: Actually 7 people read my blog.

PM: Hahaha.. Why do you even write bro? What happened all your friends? You have like 400 friends on Orkut.

Me: Friends? There have been some misunderstandings.

PM: Some? Did you fuck this up for me? Damn.

Me: There’s no Orkut now by the way. Anyway this is not about me. Well it is but it is about the Blue Pears and Me from the past. Let’s start.

PM: Oh yeah. See after Pongal holidays I forgot to pack my soaps while going back to the hostel.

Me: Bhaskar Bhavan, Sri Chaitanya IIT academy, Vijayawada right?

PM: Yes. So I took one new Blue Pears from Sai Teja.

Me: Yeah I remember.

PM: Oh then you tell the story.

Me: Ok ok sorry.

PM: Hmm so then on wards I managed to use the soap for the next 2 months.

Me: 2?

PM: okay 3

Me: …

PM: Okay okay 4 months.. For 4 months I used a single bathing soap.

Me: That seems like a tad bit too long. Even for a guy in a Sri Chaitanya hostel.

PM: I have the perfect explanation. Shall we go day by day..

Me: Sure let’s start with Monday

PM: See after the exam on Sunday as you might recall, I go home to Tenali every week and return on Monday morning after I take a nice long shower.

Me: Yes I remember. It was so difficult going back to the hostel.

PM: Well yeah.. At least it is almost over now. Few more weeks. Hey by the way, my JEE went very well.

Me: …..

PM: What? Why are you silent?

Me: Please continue. So that’s one shower per day so Monday’s quota is over I suppose.

PM: Yes yes. See here in the hostel, there are different people who have their own bathing patterns and timings.

Me: Yes I remember. Early morning before study hours, during lunch break, during the evening snack break and late in the night after the study hours.

PM: Yeah… and as you might recall I prefer the late night slot. There are these nice bathrooms on the 5th floor and they’ll be rather free late in the night.

Me: Oh yeah… The corner one with the window.

PM: Yeah so since my Monday shower is already over my first shower of the week is on Tuesday night.

Me: Okay continue…

PM: See it will be 11 pm at least by the time I finish and by the time I get ready to sleep, it’s almost Wednesday.

Me: Okay I think I know what you are trying to say.

PM: I skip Wednesday’s shower because midnight covers both the days.

Me: That does not really make sense.

PM: Let me complete… Wednesday is over now and then I have to take a shower on Thursday. But…

Me: But you will have to wait till midnight again.

PM: Yes exactly. You have no idea how clumsy these bathrooms are in the morning hours. Bunch of horny teenagers in towels with buckets standing in a queue. 

Me: Ok continue…

PM: So the next one is on Thursday night.

Me: That means you’re done with the Friday also.

PM: Exactly. You’re smart man. I am sure you’re doing great in life.

Me: Well… You see.. Nevermind skip that for now. So Friday is over. Next is Saturday?

PM: You see we have weekly tests on Saturday and Sunday….

Me: Seriously? No shower on a Saturday??

PM: Let me finish man… I am saying that because of the tests, people don’t usually use the showers that much so I actually quite enjoy the Saturday night showers.

Me: Ok ok… So no shower on a Sunday I am guessing.

PM: There is no need to shower in the hostel on a Sunday because I go home in the evening anyway.

Me: Ahh I remember. Nothing like home.

PM: and then it’s Monday and the cycle continues…

Me: So that’s how you managed to use the same soap for 4 months?

PM: Actually I didn’t even realize it was 4 months until Sai Teja saw the soap in my bucket and pointed it out last week. That fellow made fun of me like anything.

Me: Well it seems logical when you explain it. I see no reason for you or me to be embarrassed at all.

PM: I know right. So that’s that about the Blue Pears soap.

Me: When did you finally finish it?

PM: Actually I did not. After he made fun of me, I threw it away and bought a new soap. Mysore Sandal.

Me: Haha that’s what I would do too.

PM: I am you. You idiot.

Me: Hehe.. yes yes…

PM: Hey can I ask you something?

Me: Sure man.

PM: I did well in JEE last week and I am relaxing now and not preparing for EAMCET.

Me: Ohhh…

PM: I will get into an IIT right?

Me: Well… I am not allowed to reveal the future. That’s the rule.

PM: Oh.. I am super-duper confident though. One more thing please…

Me: It’s about that girl right?

PM: Yes.. I think things are going great now. Is she going to…

Me: Oh boy.. Don’t even get me started.

 

June 14th 2012

It was not particularly quiet that night. The loud noises of the sports cars kept waking me up. Either that or the random thoughts in my mind that I could not control. Stepping out on to the balcony at 1 ‘O’ clock in the night, I startled a few pegions who then flew away into the night. I could see the golden color of the street lights illuminating the entire landscape and amidst the trees was the Gate way of India. It stood there like it had nothing to do with me. Yes indeed but the sheer magnificence of the structure and what it stood for kept me engaged and more thoughts began to creep in. I was standing shirtless in the balcony of my room on the 6^th floor of the Andhra Pradesh Bhavan, Ashoka road, New Delhi.

Realising that my plan to stay awake till morning wasn’t going to work, I tried to keep myself awake with the help of some telugu cinema songs that played non stop on Gemini music and the news stories about Ram Charan’s wedding. I had to catch a flight at 6 in the morning and the cab would be here at 5 and I was there unable to decide whether to sleep or to be awake. I had no idea that the decision was not upto me. I dozed off, not sure when and woke up to some horrible dream only to realize that it was 4:45 a.m. since I already packed all my clothes and all that I had was my single back pack, it didn’t take long for me to freshen up and check out. After signing off at the reception and bidding good bye to that receptionist lady whom I became acquainted with, I stood outside the main gate waiting for the cab. The morning was silent and foggy. The smell I remember was of green leaves. Not sure if there is such a smell but that was what it felt like. I began to feel restless worrying about my flight when the driver called me up and informed me that he would be arriving at the main gate in a couple of minutes. I double checked if I packed the book that I was reading last night. The Fountainhead felt hard at the lower end of the back pack.

The driver promised that he would take me there on time. Air India flights are supposed to arrive/depart from terminal number 3. The seat felt cozy and I began to get comfortable only to realize how restless I was over the last three days. Since my interview (for admission at Jamia Millilia Islamia University) was over it had been a hectic schedule for a couple of days: trying to book train tickets, finding a suitable place to stay and most importantly, making sure I visit the historical places in delhi. Since getting train tickets then proved to be impossible, I finally decided to travel by air; for the first time. Yes, it was the first time I was going to board a flight. I was not frightened like most people told me but was not really excited as well. I was just hoping that I would not make a fool out of myself at the airport while checking in as I didn’t know how to actually “check-in.” the driver drove very fast trying to start a conversation when I slowly fell into my own thoughts ignoring him completely. The star hotels that I drove by made me think of the 26/11 attacks. The clean roads and the greenery reminded me of the days I was there in delhi with my family when I was 9 years old. I do have a vivid memory.

He did keep his promise. It took us exactly 18 minutes (that is what the digital clock in the car said) to reach the 3^rd terminal.

“Paisa usko de diya na sir??” he asked me when I stepped out of the cab.

“Ha. He said he’ll give it to you.” I didn’t have a good knowledge of Hindi. “550 hai na??” I asked him.

“Haa saab.”

“Ok then, thank you sir.” I closed the door and he smiled back and wished me a happy journey.

The checking in part was not that difficult or confusing. I did not have to ask any body for help and with in 15 minutes was all set to board the plane. The Indira Gandhi International airport was amazing. I walked around for a while looking at people. Old folk probably going for some medical check ups, couples young and full of life, well groomed gentlemen walking into the American Express exclusive lounge that reminded me of the classy George Clooney from “Up in the air”; and several others. I secretly hoped to find some movie stars ( all my friends told stories of how they met Rahman, ShahRukh and others) but there were none. Nevertheless the walk in the airport was pretty wonderful and watching the planes take position through the wall sized glasses felt good. I thought about the toy planes that I used to play with when I was a kid and then about the planes that vendors sell on the footpaths for ten rupees a piece.

The two hour flight from New Delhi to Hyderabad felt like 2 minutes. I was both fascinated and depressed. Fascinated, while watching the clouds appear like enormous balls of cotton beneath us and depressed because I did not get the seat next to the window. It was nonetheless a memorable experience and except for the awful tasting food and a malfunctioning inflight entertainment system, it was something worth remembering. Like always, I felt bad for not being able to fly like a bird. Few minutes before landing in Hyderabad, the trees, hills and buildings seemed exactly like the models that are used to be present in the architecture department when I was doing a course there back in college. The scene reminded me of my professor then and the girl that I used to have a crush on in that class.

The aeroexpress bus dropped me at the entrance of the Nehru outer ring-road from where I needed to go to BHEL where my brother would pick me up. As I was waiting for a seven-seater auto that would take me there, I realized how I just spent some 10 grand on a journey that hardly lasted 2 hours and now I am waiting for a vehicle that would charge me 8 rupees to drop me at BHEL. The great Indian middle class mind that I have amused me. Incidentally, I met a college friend (Harsha Vandini) while waiting there and after exchanging a few formal greetings and obligatory wishes, I got into a seven-seater and waved her good bye. My brother promptly picked me up on his motor cycle and we went to his room. It was around 9:30a.m then.

After lunch and a quick nap, I got ready for the next part of the journey. The Palnadu express arrived at the Lingampalli station right on time and departed along with me at 2:20p.m. I was alone once again, exactly how I liked it and this time I had my best travel companion, my iPod. For a while I began to think why I prefer listening to songs while travelling. May be it was because I don’t like to talk with people around me. I still have this notion that a heavy amount of meaningless political analysis ranging from Jagan to Telangana, happens in the general compartments of our trains. Not that it doesn’t exist but it is a little less in case of the AC compartments (that is what I observed). People make lousy statements without even trying to understand the difference between forming an opinion based on rational understanding and judging somebody based on prejudice. I had no interest to take part in such conversations and that is exactly why even today I try not to indulge in the mess. If I was forced to participate, I amuse myself by giving wrong details about myself. Just for fun. I once told a gentleman that I was a 12^th class student going to the inauguration of our new bakery in Vijayawada while I was studying engineering third year. It is just a way I amuse myself. I like doing it.

The long and tiring train journey ended at 9 p.m when the train finally stopped in the Guntur station. I was almost home but not yet. I wished all the best to the guy who managed to break into my shell and spoke with me for the last one hour about how engineering ruined his life. I tried sharing some of my views with him and told him that he is not going to gain anything by blaming the past. I told him that we are too young to start blaming life and that there so much to do. But I still wonder if he even understood me. Running out of the station I quickly got into a share auto and once again the great Indian middle class man that I am, amused me. After a few minutes of squishing in the auto, he dropped near the NTR bus terminal, Guntur. The Guntur bus stand is actually constructed so as to form the three letters N.T.R and it can be clearly seem in Google maps.

There were no non-stop buses there and I somehow felt that it was how it was supposed to be. I boarded a “Palle Velugu” bus that would take me to my home town “Tenali”. It was 9:30p.m and I was not even a little exhausted. I was in fact smiling; thinking about how my day started and where I have come now. I opened one of the windows and tried to stare out into the absolute darkness there engulfed the entire night. Even the lights inside the bus were switched off so as to allow the tired people to doze off. I could not sleep and began to look at the faces of all those around me. Some of them were clearly job holders who shuttle everyday between the two towns. Some were older people who most probably would get down in some village before we would reach Tenali. My iPod kept playing soothing Ilayaraaja’s music and not sure when, I too dozed off.

The buses from Guntur stopped at a junction which was hardly a few hundred yards from our house. I got down, still listening to Ilayaraaja’s music, slowly began walking home. I kept smiling with satisfaction about the fact that I travelled over 1800 kms via Cab –> Flight –> Aeroexpress Bus –> Seven Seater –> Motorcycle –> Train –> Auto –> Palle Velugu Bus and finally finishing the final few yards with the one means with which human beings proved to be better evolved than our primate cousins: on foot. ( A journey on a boat or something would have finished the entire list of various modes of transport that we studied in Social Studies) But more than that it was about the kind of freedom that is accompanied by absolute solitude. It had been a tiresome few days but the fact that I was alone and in my thoughts kept me running and even without regular food on time, I was able to manage because of curiosity that came out of the solitude. The familiar sound of the door bell was audible even from outside the house and my mother opened the door with the smile that meant a million words, but mostly: “You look like hell.”

P.s.. the trip was a success in a way as I was able to impress the panel of 10 people and managed to secure a seat in the post graduate programme.

Q) How do you tie a friendship band to the girl you have a crush on from ur class??

A)

Aim: To tie a friendship band to the girl I have a crush on.

Apparatus: A 11 year old(Me),the cute girl, a friendship band and an awesome idea.

Specifications:

1)The 11 year old: Nervous/Anxious

2)The girl: Cute and Lovable

3)A friendship band: Best quality and amazingly designed and most inpotantly, within your budget

Theory:

It was back in the ages when going to school was the most exciting thing that could happen. It was the time when I had to jump around in the class infront of everybody just to rub the black board for my teachers. Little things like cordless phones, walk-mans, new keychains were the things that filled our minds with wonder.. and it was things like those that separated the kids from the cool kids..

And in a time like that f’ship bands were surely gonna be a classic revolution.Doesnt really know what they signify but when you know you have to be in the trend, you do things that are trending… and friendship bands were the most trending things back then.

Procedure:

>> Make sure you have enough money to buy the best looking friendship band or atleast buy the better looking one with whatever you cud afford.Atleast beg your mom for more money.

>>But tying a band to a girl might often lead to controversies and unwanted publicity in the class. To avoid this, buy a few more bands for a few random people just to make sure no special observation is present at the actual scene

>>Keep the actual band you want to tie to the girl in your right pocket and the remaining others in the other pocket.

>>As soon as the interval bell rings in the study hours, go near the girl and begin to tie bands to the other people near her.

>>When this process is in action, the girl most probably comes near you and asks “Where’s my friendship band!?”(with a smile that might drive you crazy)

>>Try to avoid the crazily happy look on your face and take out the black & white f’ship band that you specially chose for her and tie it to her hand.

>>Make sure you get it right.

>>The indication is her pretty smile.If you get it, it means the experiment is a success.

>>Try to act natural and don’t show the relieved or satisfied expression on your face.Try to cover it up with the cool guy look and walk away as if it is not a big deal.

>>You can go dance in the rest room if you wish.

Precautions:

>>Careful not to look desperate.It might ruin your chances with the other girls in class and might damage the cool guy image.

>>Be cautious while choosing the friendship band. It should not be girly.

>>Make sure the girl gets the best looking band.

Result:

The friendship band is tied to the cutest girl in the class and the results can be observed and measured by the smiles and silent glances.

Chapter1: Mary madam

I thought that she was just interested in watching us play.That made me think about what she might think about me.It was Mary madam, the wife of our principal sir watching us play cricket in the interval when I was studying 5^th class.I did not want to make a fool out of myself by being defensive infront of her.So as soon as the ball was released from the bowler’s hand I rushed forward with the confidence of Yuvraj singh(who probably did not even start his international career) and hit the ball so hard and it went straight and hit my friend almost near his sensitive part (if you know what I mean) 😉

It was all part of the game, I thought to myself..pleased in a way coz I was able to middle the ball. I checked once again if madam was watching and yes she was.Ok now she knows that I am a good batsman.But as we began to play again I noticed that she was talking with one of the attenders.What!!? is she gonna call me in person and appreciate me!!?? That wud be kewl…

The attender came slowly towards us. His name was Badhraiyya. I was at the strikers end which was a huge eucalyptus tree and was curious about what he wanted to say. But to everyone’s surprise he did not say a word.He took my bat from my hand and walked away silently.

TWIST!!!!!!!!

Oh so madam was not watching me play!!! She was actually warning us that she was watching and I did more than I what I usually do which finally pissed her off so bad that she took away my bat!! Unbelievable turn of events 😦

Chapter2: My Bat

It was a couple of years earlier that my dad bought me that bat. I always carried it with pride. Whether it was the gully cricket I used to play with the kids from my street or it was the cricket we used to play on the terrace of my house.. I always had that bat.My first bat. Infact the handle broke a couple of times but I somehow managed to get it repaired. It was only suitable for playing with a rubber ball and would probably break even to a simple shot with a cork ball.It had no grip and the stickers tore away.

Nevertheless I always carried it with pride coz it was my bat.. my own!!!Now it was with Mary madam.There was no way I was gonna talk to her and get it back.There was no way I can talk to the principal either coz that would be like escaping the tigers cage and falling into the croc pit!!

And so I did what any 9 year old would do in that situation……….. I gave up 😦

Chapter3: Goddess

After a couple of years (when I was in 7^th class) I became the captain of the Green house.A captain who did not even have a bat.When ever we had to play cricket either in our school or against other schools I had to play with someone else’s bat.So I decided to do something and get back my bat.

Annie madam used to teach us English back then. She was the daughter-in-law of Mary madam. Annie madam actually used to teach English in our 4^th class but later stopped for a few years. It was when I was in 7^th class that she back to teaching.As I always had a good relation with her I decided to ask her if she could give me my bat that Mary madam took a couple of years ago.

After the class one day I ran out following her and told her the story of how I lost my bat and asked her if she could give it back.

“Oh that’s a long time back Sudhams.I don’t know if it is still there in the store room!!”she said genuinely interested in my request.

“plzz madam atleast give it a try..”I begged her.

She considered it and so began my daily visits to her for the next few days. Whenever I saw her I used to keep this expression and she would smile and say that she told somebody to see about that.

Finally one day she called me after the class and asked me to meet her near the office after the school is over. I was more than happy to do so. I was there on time and she came out of the teachers room and asked me to meet her near the old classroom opposite to the lab.

I followed her instructions and ran there as fast as I could. She was already there with Nayak (an office boy who used to work in my school back then). Apparently there was some other entrance to that room from the teachers room. She made Nayak open another door in that room which I did not even knew existed…

I couldn’t believe my eyes as I stepped into that room along with Annie madam and Nayak.It was like entering an age old treasure chamber that has been kept hidden for generations. It was even a bit suffocating inside because of all the dust. There were cricket bats neatly kept in the wooden stands like in the stores. There were several other bats tied in a bunch and kept in the corners. There were also several other sports goods like stumps, throw balls etc but all of them brown with dust. There was atleast a one inch layer of dust on some of those things wrapped up in the stands.

“Hmm.. so this is where we store the things. Which one is your bat??” Annie madam asked.

Which one?? Which one?? She expects me to search for my one bat among all this unbelievable treasure of  sporting goods!!??

Yes she did and infact she then asked Nayak to search the smaller bats that are tied together at one of the corners. He followed her instructions and began searching for my bat showing me each and everyone that I rejected saying that it was not mine.

After some 15mins or so we were still unable to find my bat.

“Do one thing Sudhams.. choose any bat that you like among these and take it.” She gave me an offer that anyone would be more than happy to accept. But not me ofcourse..

“Madammmmmm… no madammmmm I want my bat.” I gave her that usual expression. 🙂

“ok ok..” she smiled and asked Nayak to continue searching for some more time.

For a second I felt like the woodcutter from the river & axe story.He refuses to take the gold and silver axes that the goddess offers him and later the goddess gives him both along with his original axe as a token of appreciation for his honesty.

I wasn’t looking for any of those. I just wanted my bat. So after a few more minutes of searching Nayak actually found my bat. Infact he showed it to me earlier but it was so dirty that I could not even recognize it. The entire color of the bat changed and there were spider webs hanging near the handle.

“Is this your bat??” she asked me with an expression that said.. Is this why you pestered me all these days?? Is this why you made me come to this store room?? You denied any other bat in this room for this bat???

“Yes madam. This is my bat. Thank you very much”

“Ok then happy?? Now run along and play well” said my Goddess with a smile 🙂 🙂

P.s..

I did not hope for a golden axe or a silver one. I just needed my own axe and I was really glad that I got it back. Thanks to my own Goddess.

But there was always gonna be a twist in the tale. Within a few weeks time I lost the bat when we were playing against a bunch of kids from some other school. Somebody robbed me of my most priced possession!! No goddess came to the rescue this time.

I collapsed…right infront of them.Not something that I am proud of even today but what the hell it was my first time….Sudhams

Everybody from my class were super excited when the announcement came that there was gonna be a dance competition in the school. It was when I was in my 7^th class.The Annual Sports meet became the second most exciting thing of the year. When I first heard of the announcement I laughed at the people who were interested. I mean how can they shamelessly dance infront of the crowd..All our teachers would be watching and most of all dancing is so girly… 😛

But when a few people from the class began practicing and bringing the audio cassettes to classes,  I kind of got attracted. Moreover I was the captain of the Green house and I cannot possibly be a good example to my teammates if I did not take part. Also one more reason is that there was this girl it the class that I always tried to impress and what better way than to show her my dancing skills.. so yes I gave my name for the selections…

Training:

First things first, Dancing kind of came naturally to me. I never had any formal training or anything. I watched a lot of movies and television and somehow I had the grooving in me 😉

So I did not practice much for the competition. I wasn’t really aiming at winning the prize. Impressing the girl was the primary objective. I was more into training my friends and helping them choose good songs. I myself chose this song from an old Venkatesh film. I thought that it was cool enough and I did not even practice for that.I did not even fell like buying a costume for that. I wore a t shirt reverse(so that it’ll look like a turtle neck) and on that wore some other shirt with a pair of jeans to go along with that.. that’s all. So everything was set for the selections..

I bunked the school on the day before the competitions coz I had to attend a function at my uncles house.

As a child I always liked Hindi music probably coz there were no Telugu music channels back then. So as I was watching M Tv that day, I saw this absolutely awesome song from Dil Chahta Hai…

“Koi kahe…kehta rahe.. kitna bhi hamko diwana…

Koi kahe…kehta rahe.. kitna bhi hamkoooo diwana…”

Aamir, Saif and Akshay was dancing like crazy…The song’s got the right mix…

“Yes….this is it!!” I was sure that it was the song I was gonna dance for. I begged my mom for the money and immediately bought the audio cassette(there were no cds back then).

I was just playing the song for the second time when a friend of mine came home and told me that the selections were to be held that evening during the study hours. The very next day was the competition.I had no other option except to hurry up. Even while taking a bath I was still confused which song to choose. Finally I thought a Hindi song would make me look cool infront of the girl and so I picked up the Dil Chahta hai cassette and went to the study hours.

Selections:

There is no need to mention about the Hungama in the class that evening. Everyone was doing their part in creating a scene. There was this girl “Jaya” who was supposed to be the best dancer of us all. Everybody was sure that shez gonna win the first prize. I thought even she knew that… looking at her confidence. Anyway I wasn’t looking to win prizes, I was just gonna impress my girl.(For the record… that girl didn’t participate in the competition)

“Sudhams!! Madam is calling you.. take your cassette along with you to the lab!!”  a senior announced..

What?? Why should I be the first one?? I should atleast know what it will be like.. It was the first time ever the competition is being held and I was called to dance infront of Annie Madam and Sushma Teacher!!?? and the worst part is I wasn’t even sure what I was gonna perform infront of them…Aaarrgghhh.. cudn’t  believe my luck.. 😦

Everybody shouted and wished me luck as I nervously left my classroom and walked towards the lab.

“Good evening ma’am..good evening teacher…”  I wished them both..

They smiled back at me. I knew they always loved me. They knew me from a long time. There was nothing to be afraid of. Just need to keep my cool and do my best.

“Koi kahe…kehta rahe.. kitna bhi hamko diwana…

Koi kahe…kehta rahe.. kitna bhi hamkoooo diwana…”

I began making a few moves but I could sense my legs shivering.

“What am I doing??They’re my teachers!!What if I am not even selected for the event??Am I making a fool out of myself??” all these and a thousand more questions ran through my mind. I was even surprised my mind cud process that much information all at the same time..

I collapsed…right infront of them.Not something that I am proud of even today but what the hell it was my first time.

“Are you nervous Sudhams??Are you alright??Shall we try again??”  my madam asked.. isn’t she wonderful!!??

“I’ll just have some water and come ma’am” I said..

“Ok lets do onething.. we’ll call you again and meanwhile you stay back in the room and feel free.. call Jaya when you go back.Shes next in the list”

Ahh man… I cudn’t believe I freaked out infront of two of my favorite teachers. Atleast I got another shot at it. When I came back to the class I did not look at anybody.Everybody was asking questions..I did not answer any and when I told what happened inside I became the laughing stock of the class.Things became worse when Jaya came back.She was so confident that her body language made me think that they wont even call me for a second try. 😦

But they were my fav teachers and as I told..they loved me. So they called me again..

Everybody began to laugh again but I was not bothered..

I went in..

“Are you ready Sudhams?”

“Yes ma’am!!”

And for the next 60 seconds or so.. I never looked at them. I imagined that room to be my bathroom and I began to dance..

“Ok good!!Wait for the results..you can go” she said with a smile.. I knew I was in \m/

Competitions:

It was a delight to watch all the participants in their costumes and make up. Everybody was super excited and the three judges were all my fav teachers who always liked me. Annie ma’am, Sushma teacher and some other Hindi teacher I don’t remember her name.

Everybody danced really well which really surprised me. I was just standing behind the stage making sure the girl was watching. But when Jaya danced.. it was really discouraging. I mean I even thought it was not even worth going on to the stage after her performance. She was indeed a good dancer.

When they announced my name.. I kinda felt very relaxed this time. I simply went on to the stage and looked at the girl just to make sure she was watching and as soon as the music began.. the entire school became my bathroom again. 😛

“Even to this day I don’t have any idea what I did on the stage that day.There were no videos unfortunately but I sure do remember the girl giving me a shake-hand after the program is over and a couple of teachers from lower classes called me personally to their class to appreciate me.”

Aftermath:

Yes like anybody after reading this would expect… I won the First prize 😛 😀

They gave me a big shield that I proudly took home and even today I keep it in the living room shelf right in the center of several other prizes that I won and every time I look at it.. I remember the entire story like it was yesterday.

And ya…Jaya got the second prize 😀 😛

“I came to my room after study hours and a friend of mine (who happened to join there along with me) came running to me and told me something that I wish was not true. At that moment I thought a lie would’ve been better because the truth is often too much to handle.”

The day we got these photos, she told me that I had a better smile than this 🙂

*****

I don’t remember the first time I saw her but Lakshmi teacher was my class teacher when I was in my third standard. She was new to my school and used to teach social studies. A very pretty woman with a welcoming smile and a wonderful person to have as a class-teacher. As for me, I was always an active student. Even if I wasn’t the class topper I was always in the top five and she liked me, atleast that’s what I thought.

Her house was just a few blocks away from mine. She lived with her mother and son, Jaydeep, who was in kindergarten. At that time my uncle used to teach social studies for higher classes. He introduced me to her as his nephew and so I had her special attention, which I enjoyed. I even went to her house many times to play and to fly kites. I even remember being at her house for Jaydeep’s birthday party. However, I never knew who her husband was or what he did. It’s wasn’t an important thing for an 8 year old.

I have a few faint memories of her class also. She once gave us a drawing assignment. My work was to draw pictures of household tools (hammer, screwdriver etc.) After we submitted our assignments, she gave us football shaped erasers. I only wish I had kept the eraser with me now. For Independence day, all that the class could afford to bring for her, with the funds we collected, was a 300ml thumsup. We didn’t even have an opener. For several minutes she tried to open the bottle herself and when it finally did open, without having it herself, she made the entire class have a sip each. Such a sweet person she was. Call it fate or luck, our school decided to have our class pictures taken for the first time, that very year. The day we got those photos, she told me that I had a better smile than the one in the picture.

Sadly, after that academic year, she left our school. Frankly, I wasn’t really heart broken or anything. You always get new teachers that become close to you. After few years when my brother changed schools, he came home the first day and told me that Lakshmi teacher was working in his new school. Okay. 

                                                                                *****

The best surprises are those that come when you least expect them. Lakshmi teacher came back to my school when I was in 8^th class, not to teach social students to 3rd class students but to teach physics to 8th, 9th & 10th class students. Good news. There were plenty of new faces in the class when she came in for the first time and yes a few old ones too. She seemed glad to see us all grown up and I was really happy too. But things were not going to be like the good old days. I was the same old active student but all I remember from her classes were the punishments she gave me.

>>Sending me out of the class for beating up a kid.

>>Making me kneel down outside when I make fun of that kid infront of the whole class.

>>Sending me to the principal’s office.

>>Scolding me for not being punctual.

>>Making remarks about how I wasn’t the sweet kid she once knew.

But I was always the same. I was always her student, who always loved her. Even if she was furious at me most of the times, I was never angry at her. I always admired her.

This is her writing & signature (my notes)

It was not always the same either. She was among the first few who appreciated me when I did well. When I won prizes in dance competitions, when I gave a good speech on 15^th august or when I got good marks, she always had wonderful things to say.

It was particularly in my 10^th clas, I remember her spending most of her time with us because of the public examinations. She had a very practical approach and always advised us to prepare all the previous year exam papers. That, I did really well and after a really poor performance in the first pre-final (32/50 I think) I studied all the previous papers and in the second prefinal I got 49/50 in physics. I was doing well in biology as well and so was able to score more in science than in mathematics, something that never happened before.

One particular incident that I remember is on the day before our final exam. She came to the study hours in the evening to give some last minute tips and important points to remember. As she was talking to the entire class, I was writing some important bits, diagrams, formulae etc. on the black board behind her. She didn’t really mind because I was always like that and as I was doing well in the recent exams she had faith in me(atleast I thought so). So when she was done, she looked at the board that I filled with all the important stuff (that I predicted would come in the exam) and smiled. She left after sometime wishing us all the best.

I was determined to score a hundred in science so I wrote the paper really well the next day and she was the first person I told that to after my exam was over. I even mentioned to her that a lot actually came in the question paper out of all those points that I wrote on the board. She congratulated me for that.

That is the last memory I have of her. I did not meet her again and even if I did I do not have any memory of it. Sigh.

                                                                                *****

After my exams I never really bothered talking to my old school teachers. I joined Intermediate in Vijaywada (Sri Chaitanya Hostel)

One day I came to my room after the study hours and a friend of mine (who happened to join there along with me) came running to me and told me something that I wish was not true. At that moment I thought a lie would’ve been better because the truth is often too much to handle.

He told me that Lakshmi teacher died.

“What!!!???”

“Yes she commited suicide…”

My God, it was too much for me to take all at once. I could not believe it. I understood why my dad was a little hesitant talking to me on the phone earlier that evening. He was hiding this from me. But I knew it now. I couldn’t believe it. Denial wasn’t gonna help either.A thousand thoughts ran through my mind, flashes from my 3rd class days. I just sat on an old cot in the balcony of my hostel and wondered what would’ve happened. There were several rumours in school about her family problems, her husband and many other things but whatever the reason was, she found it difficult to handle and decided to end her life leaving behind her only kid with her mom. I wanted to talk with my friends from school but I was in my hostel and it was 11 ‘O’ clock in the night. I wondered why I was not crying. Wasn’t she special to me? I don’t know what I did later that night, except sleep and go back to classes the next day. That was it, there was nothing else to do even after coming home for vacations. I did meet a few of my friends who told me that she commited suicide by drinking something and probably because of family problems.

The other day I was roaming on the roads when I happened to pass by her old house, the same house where I went to Jaydeep’s birthday party all those years ago. I recollected the time when we gave her the thumsup in 3rd class. The thing is, I never really saw her as a real person with real problems. I mean, I never imagined her with her family or anything. She was just Lakshmi teacher to me. Her voice and her smile. There were several wonderful teachers in my life. Few even more close to me than Lakshmi teacher. But the reason why I cannot forget her is because of the fact that she is not alive anymore and there is no way for me to meet her and tell her in person, how much I respect her and how much I Love Her.

P.s. I scored 96 in Science in my tenth class (One mark more than what I got in Maths). As they don’t give marks separately, I decided to believe that I scored a 50 in physics and lost the 4 marks in biology.

Chapter 1: The Excuses

All of us have excuses to tell to people. Especially our teachers. Right from our early school days to the end of our graduation we tell our teachers all kinds of reasons for our irregular behavior.I’ve told my teachers all sorts of reasons and excuses some of them so silly but ignored coz of my age.

Most Commonly used Excuses:

When absent to school

>>Went to Guntur

>>High Fever

>>Function at home

If I did not complete my homework

>>Forgot notes

>>Lost my notes

>>Gave my notes to a friend who is absent today

Absent for study hours

>>Function

>>Cycle repair

>>Headache, Doctor’s appointment

So it is pretty clear that with this sort of a foundation I never found it difficult to come up with spontaneous reasons to tell to my lecturers.

Chapter 2: The Enemy

No matter how many reasons we tell there were always those teachers who cud see past those reasons and find ways to punish us.They find it rather amusing to give us punishments.I had many of that kind during my schooling and college life.

Like Sundari teacher from my school days who used to eat away the interval break and the lunch hour by making us write imposition. Those kind of reasons never worked with her. Whether it is a textbook forgotten, homework unfinished, or a diagram not labeled; it meant that there wasn’t gonna be any recess that day.

There’s Mr.Srinivas Reddy, our campus incharge in intermediate.Used to tell him all sort of reasons to take outing.Apart from faking sickness and sleeping in the sickroom I remember telling him once that one of my ears was not working.I still remember that look on his face and that was kind of funny but not entirely a lie.I really had some kind of infection that got cured by few anti-biotics.

And therez my very own KK ma’am recently.There is seriously nothing else we generally remember in a particular semester(Regarding acads I shud mention)when she takes up a lab.Those countless hours of record writing, observation writing, doing the experiments is all you remember.But even this seems less torturing when it comes to the  correction part.Even after hours of waiting outside her room, we get kicked out coz the circuit diagram is too small or sumtyms just because we did not write as much matter as Lavanya(Topper/Her Fav) did.

Chapter 3: I Have a problem

One thing I like about Kamala Kumari ma’am is that she did not fail people.Even if she did there would be several others who might be in her hit list before me.So I never really worried about finishing her record and observation in time and getting it corrected.Even if we keep going to her from the beginning she keeps on increasing the corrections and we end up on the last day before the lab exam with the final signature pending. So I never showed my face to her and kept postponing the correction when I was in 3-2.

I was planning on going to her in the last week and face some intense moments all at a time so that I can avoid weeks of irritation and that was what I did but still found it difficult to handle that one week of torture .So I decided to make use of all the excuse telling history that I have as she was telling me that shez not willing to take a look at my record as I didn’t come for corrections all this time.So the next day I thought of a good reason(good or unusual)to tell her as an excuse for my absence the whole time during record correction.

I stood outside her room as there were few of my juniors with their records inside her room.I did not want to tell the excuse infront of them.So I decided to wait outside but however she called me in. Before I could just open my mouth she began scolding me for being so irregular, for being irresponsible, for acting too smart and a million other reasons. I quietly stood there waiting for my juniors to leave.

Once they left, she kind of calmed down a bit and asked me to get lost and declared that she wudn’t correct my record and that I had to come next year to do the lab.I knew she was just threatening me and she would anyhow correct it soon enough.All she wanted now was to see me do some work like all my classmates. So it was the perfect time for me to use my master weapon..my final option..the ultimate excuse…

“Ma’am actually..the thing is… I have a problem.. a psychological problem and I’m attending the counseling sessions. I’m not staying in the hostel.. that is why I’m not regular ma’am…”

I made my point clear…

She was clearly not expecting anything like this and she tried hard to hide the shock in her face with some more anger and asked me to leave the room and also shouted that I always tell some crazy reasons.

I came out pretty confident that my idea wudn’t go wrong.Even if she kicked me out again I was sure I got the tiger right where I wanted it.

That was probably the craziest reason I ever told to anyone…

Aftermath:

Well that actually worked to a large extent coz never again was I seriously bugged by her. She did not talk to me much after that and I was more than happy for that as talking, to her was serious banging  for us.I had to act a bit crazy infront of her but that was not a big problem.

As for the lab…I think I got a B grade!!