Tuesday, September 5, 2017

U-Turn

With Regards.

Love and respect to all my teachers who spend some precious time of their lives helping me shape what am today. Each one had their own lessons, some helped me earn my living some helped me love my life. Some taught me what was reality and some showed ways to dream. They shared history of the good and the bad kings. The long tales of civilizations and how the globe falls flat on the Atlas. The map pointing and how the economics made one country look richer than the other. The first litmus paper turning purple and the pendulum ball swinging wrong they all had some lessons in stored. Years do fly. The last few years of school till college almost galloped; exams followed by exams. I graduated.

The pass and the fail. The first time I failed I was in class III. The report card had some number underlined with red ink. I had no idea of what it was. Like many other ordinary facts had showed the card to my bench partner, as it was very new to me. She was experienced and explained me. That was when I touched a sense of deep fear. It must have been followed by depression that caught me. Was too small to have related these heavy words then but it must have been the state of mind. I failed in Maths. Parents, class teachers, maths teachers they all played their parts to make this subject take a center stage of my academic life later. But that red ink taught me the word fail and the time taught me cope with failure. I failed small and big, many a times after that. The maiden one remained special.

The time and the table. They together as timetable chased me from school till college. Later realized office gives you only a chair and you curve your timetable. The special reminders five minutes before the exam closes till the unwanted reminders of Microsoft meeting schedules sound all the same. Little more into this learning curve of time. Money and machine also pairs up well, but the table is the best. Over time realized the reading and the dining tables are the most fulling destination of simple living. I was brought up in non-digital era in a small town. The Newspaper – the one in real paper prints use to reach my town around noon. The distribution cycle was lengthy. No matter what, dot at fifteen minutes past two, the folded newspaper used to hit our front door. I was the first one to rush. Friday’s were special. It had a weekly magazine packed along. I only had fifteen minutes to read the favorite serial story before I pushed the cycle paddle for my tuition classes. The magazine laid on my reading table all through the week. The rush to digest delicacy started from those Fridays.

The library and the lobby. My missionary schooling had a huge focus on library. Noddy to Nancy, I meet them there. Feluda and Sherlock came over in later years. Like many in school days I turned up to library to flip through Illustrated Weekly and carefully avoided Reader’s Digest. Library taught to communicate in silence. Read beyond books and to feel beyond words. The librarian of the college was a living house of big data, batch by batch, name by name he indexed identity. Often the person who was an informer to let you know the GPS of the friend you are looking for. Every one said visit library and avoid lobby. It was not so good a word to start with. Realizations later was different. Unlike library it has no boundary but it binds you for a purpose. I learned and unlearned this word. It is so important we learn it the right way and use it for good cause. There is no force that equates the strength of collective. There is no view called neutral.

You have choice to pick. Teachers in life preaches you to take decision and circumstances of life teaches you to reach outcomes. Library and Lobby often help to overcome challenges. Time offers you both moments of fulfillment on the table and often the empty top… And to fail is not a bad thing in the walk of life. But just in case if all roads seem to have ended that’s the moment you have something called U-Turn!

‘Never Give Up’ a spirit I owe to my small town – Durgapur, a silent teacher of my life.