Touch and Glow

With festive season in full swing with 'fresh and new' apparel , food, travel plans, every mind in my country is in upbeat mood. Count down has begun at Eastern India ...para lanes are gearing for Durga-Utsob. Apparel shops and beauty parlours are reaping money.

Late in the afternoon, the other day it was all by surprise when the door bell beeped, I opened to see an old time friend of my father at the door step. He was Dasgupta uncle for me. Meeting him after a while. Yes, he didn't look the same that I had in my mental record. Lost most of his hair and the remaining were grey, broken jaws suggested he had paid enough to dentist. As one grows old, meeting old time friends and refreshing old memories are probably the best gift one can have for oneself.

Unfortunately his friend was not at home and I tried my best to render a hospitality that my father would have offered. Have not listened to anyone for such long in recent past. His only son, who was Titas for us, is well settled in US - a dream that he had seen two decades back. He spoke of web cam , gtalk - that keeps him connected to his only son and grand kids. Life moves on and how quickly technology fits in our life-style.

I thought every thing was great till I heard him say - " It was 15 years back that Titas had step out for States to do his MS; it was two days before the Durga Puja celebration that year."

After a long monologue, he paused for a while. I could sense the correlation that he has between this season of festival and a deep feeling of detachment with his only son.

We had a cup of tea together. The evening was moving to dusk. It was time that he started for his home. I slipped in my chappals (home sandals) to take him down the steps from my third floor apartment to the car that was parked outside.

- "Nice car uncle!" , I remarked to make him happy as he moves on.

- "Titas gifted this three years back." He spoke of it an hour back , but must be feeling proud as a father to reiterate once more. I thought!

The engine was put on first gear and ready to roll when he unwind the glass pane and stretched his hand which provoked me to lend mine.

- "This evening was so fresh and new! Thank you for this wonderful gift.Felt like spending one with Titas. I would call your father sometime later." This was all he said, rest was communicated over the strong bonded hands of a lonely father desperately seeking connection with his next generation.

Gyan# 24 - Festival is all about being with near and dear ones - no celebration is beyond that.

First Tryst with Failure

Do you know why failure is painted in red ? You thought I have an answer, not exactly. Probably failure pulls in more emotion than success , it is meant to trigger fear and panic. I wonder if the colour of failure is changed to green will it look glorious!

'Krishna Miss' - That is how we all called her. She was our standard three class teacher. She taught us how important it is to greet another when we first time meet in the morning, it essentially need not be in the beginning of the class by joining a loud chorus. It has become an integral part of life now, ever since have stepped out the boundary that made a classroom. What is the big deal? It is a natural progression - even if she had not taught , would have learnt from the system. You are correct, environment is our teacher.

Today I recalled her for next good thing that she taught and it was far more important. I was one of the last 5 to receive my report-card in the first terminal ( a quick start up exam conducted after three months of an academic session) exam of standard III. Quite a lot had changed in my status-co over the last 10 months till that day. My brother just got added to the census record of my country. I was more of a dotting sister than a student. My father got transferred to a department where he lived out of his suitcase. And to couple my trouble there was a brand new subject that got added to the syllabus named - 'History'. Honestly I didn't know about the last pointer as a trouble till I ...

These were all my building blocks to the report card that I had in hand with one of the score as 36, it was underlined and painted red. Eyes traversed horizontally left to see the subject was History. Rest report card looked as usual, only that somewhere in the bottom had a small letter alphabet again painted in red - f.

The color red made me feel there was something different in my report card. I slowly walked down the lanes and said - "Excuse me Krishna Miss."

She humbly said - "Yes."

I opened up my report card for clarity and asked her pin pointing the weird letter on it - " What is this f?"

Today I can feel what challenge I through her.

She hugged me and said - "You forgot to study History, that is a reminder."

I thought that f was that easy. Well I knew what is was only when my mother had to give her autograph to endorse that she is appraised of my performance. Krishna Miss was so open to Hug a failure ! Only a good teacher can embrace a failure to erode fear..and focus on what went wrong more than why?

Salute to all TEACHERS who taught us how to accept failures gracefully.

Gyan 23# - Failure ensures you learn to focus right!