Fairytale, or no?
It's been a year and a half, since that fateful (no, really) night in the summer, when she was on a week-long vacation in Ratnagiri. A year and a half, when she got the call that gave her life the much needed push, the encouragement, the direction. A year and a half, when her Board Exam results were declared (surprise!). A year and a half, since she was officially no more a student of DAV Public School, Airoli.
She was not like most others. She could sleep on the nights before exams. She wouldn't, or rather couldn't, stay up till 3 in the morning, studying, learning, revising. She wasn't very keen on discussing papers after they were already written and submitted. She knew where she stood, and she knew what she needed to work on. The thing with being practical about things like exams and results is, you are hardly ever surprised, or shocked. Whether it is for the good or for the bad, doesn't matter. Jo hai, so hai.
Let me tell you what the house in Ratnagiri, where she stayed, is like.
It is a typical Marathi-Konkani house, belonging to her maternal uncle, or mama. Technically, it is her mother's nanihaal, or aajol. Which means that if you traced her descent on the matriarchal side, you would land up in this very house. Spread over a huge area, with a small vegetable farm, a big flower garden, and an aangan with a hammock (only in summers), it is heaven, less than 24 hours away from Mumbai. Floor made of mud, layered with cow dung, decorated with beautiful white Rangoli patterns at all doors. A big wooden swing at the main entrance. Numerous entrances. Numerous exits. The beautiful smell of mangoes dissolving into the overwhelming, salty smell of the sea, a little further down the vegetable garden.
The house is in a small village. Electricity reached the place when her mother's generation were teenagers. Mobile phones are "out of coverage area", apart from a cliff near the beach.
It is the best way of giving oneself a social detox.
She loved going there. She was visiting her mama after about 4 years, with a cousin. They were going to see their cousins from there after 4 whole years.
During their one-week stay there, not many times did her mother call her to see if everything was fine, nah. She trusted her daughter enough. There were no overly-sweet, affectionate talks. In fact, there were sweet talks only seldom. And that was enough for her. She had been brought up to be independent, and to compete with her own self, no one else. Her Aai was cool like that. Baba, too.
Imagine her surprise when her mother called a second time in 12 hours, that night.
There was no "kay challay?"/"majet na?" (what's up)
"Manya!"
"Hmm?"
"Parikshe che result aale!!" (the results are out)
That was how the conversation began. She found out she had scored well. Just like she had expected. Her lowest score was in Maths. She knew it. But it was acceptable. She knew she would take up Arts for junior college. "Commerce kalat nahi, Science jhepnar nahi," her father would joke. (Though it really was true). She knew her scores were enough to get into the college that she wanted.
She didn't realise then, that she wasn't a school kid anymore. Her 10th standard Id Card was not valid anymore. She would have to answer in past tense if anyone asked her, "which school?". Her moment of enlightenment had not come yet.
Days passed, formalities were done, college fees paid.
College started in July.
The first day was a disaster. It dawned on her - "college life" was no fairy tale. Arts was not easy if you didn't attend enough lectures. Understanding was not what the exams were meant to check, in State Board. Marks were not a measure of intelligence, or its opposite.
She had given her school her best, whenever and wherever she could. She was really fond of her teachers, and she hopes, to this day, that the feeling was mutual. She wasn't particularly close to any one teacher. All of them had taught her certain things. She disliked some of them, strongly, but she was always aware that however flawed they might have been, they were still up there; she was down here.
Today, when she looks back on her 10th standard, the entire year flows in a blur. She has no regrets; that is part of her belief system. Regrets are stupid. She knows she couldn't have done more. And yet, somehow, she couldn't figure out why it was all a blur. She couldn't even remember what the last day had been like. Her classmates and friends had given short speeches. There was a 'hawan', as was part of the school's tradition. That is all. She can't remember the last time her van dropped her home. The last time she sat on the last bench and ate her friend's tiffin. She can't do that in college because you have the liberty to sneak out of the class before the teacher came and do what you want. Because college is where the teachers don't have to tell you to attend their lectures; you know you have to attend at least some of them, because otherwise, you're screwed. It wasn't like that in school. They didn't have freedom, they only had responsibility. In college, they sure have freedom, but they also have 10 times the responsibility. And this responsibility is definitely more dangerous, and more challenging.
The education system in India might be bad, but that doesn't mean you can't learn. You most certainly can make the most of it. And making most of it is..fun. You go beyond your boundaries, you find new people, you lose old people. More importantly, you learn to deal with life. The teachers do not teach you. You have to take efforts, and honestly, don't you learn better like that, instead of Life Lessons fed to you?
She was not like most others. She could sleep on the nights before exams. She wouldn't, or rather couldn't, stay up till 3 in the morning, studying, learning, revising. She wasn't very keen on discussing papers after they were already written and submitted. She knew where she stood, and she knew what she needed to work on. The thing with being practical about things like exams and results is, you are hardly ever surprised, or shocked. Whether it is for the good or for the bad, doesn't matter. Jo hai, so hai.
Let me tell you what the house in Ratnagiri, where she stayed, is like.
It is a typical Marathi-Konkani house, belonging to her maternal uncle, or mama. Technically, it is her mother's nanihaal, or aajol. Which means that if you traced her descent on the matriarchal side, you would land up in this very house. Spread over a huge area, with a small vegetable farm, a big flower garden, and an aangan with a hammock (only in summers), it is heaven, less than 24 hours away from Mumbai. Floor made of mud, layered with cow dung, decorated with beautiful white Rangoli patterns at all doors. A big wooden swing at the main entrance. Numerous entrances. Numerous exits. The beautiful smell of mangoes dissolving into the overwhelming, salty smell of the sea, a little further down the vegetable garden.
The house is in a small village. Electricity reached the place when her mother's generation were teenagers. Mobile phones are "out of coverage area", apart from a cliff near the beach.
It is the best way of giving oneself a social detox.
She loved going there. She was visiting her mama after about 4 years, with a cousin. They were going to see their cousins from there after 4 whole years.
During their one-week stay there, not many times did her mother call her to see if everything was fine, nah. She trusted her daughter enough. There were no overly-sweet, affectionate talks. In fact, there were sweet talks only seldom. And that was enough for her. She had been brought up to be independent, and to compete with her own self, no one else. Her Aai was cool like that. Baba, too.
Imagine her surprise when her mother called a second time in 12 hours, that night.
There was no "kay challay?"/"majet na?" (what's up)
"Manya!"
"Hmm?"
"Parikshe che result aale!!" (the results are out)
That was how the conversation began. She found out she had scored well. Just like she had expected. Her lowest score was in Maths. She knew it. But it was acceptable. She knew she would take up Arts for junior college. "Commerce kalat nahi, Science jhepnar nahi," her father would joke. (Though it really was true). She knew her scores were enough to get into the college that she wanted.
She didn't realise then, that she wasn't a school kid anymore. Her 10th standard Id Card was not valid anymore. She would have to answer in past tense if anyone asked her, "which school?". Her moment of enlightenment had not come yet.
Days passed, formalities were done, college fees paid.
College started in July.
The first day was a disaster. It dawned on her - "college life" was no fairy tale. Arts was not easy if you didn't attend enough lectures. Understanding was not what the exams were meant to check, in State Board. Marks were not a measure of intelligence, or its opposite.
She had given her school her best, whenever and wherever she could. She was really fond of her teachers, and she hopes, to this day, that the feeling was mutual. She wasn't particularly close to any one teacher. All of them had taught her certain things. She disliked some of them, strongly, but she was always aware that however flawed they might have been, they were still up there; she was down here.
Today, when she looks back on her 10th standard, the entire year flows in a blur. She has no regrets; that is part of her belief system. Regrets are stupid. She knows she couldn't have done more. And yet, somehow, she couldn't figure out why it was all a blur. She couldn't even remember what the last day had been like. Her classmates and friends had given short speeches. There was a 'hawan', as was part of the school's tradition. That is all. She can't remember the last time her van dropped her home. The last time she sat on the last bench and ate her friend's tiffin. She can't do that in college because you have the liberty to sneak out of the class before the teacher came and do what you want. Because college is where the teachers don't have to tell you to attend their lectures; you know you have to attend at least some of them, because otherwise, you're screwed. It wasn't like that in school. They didn't have freedom, they only had responsibility. In college, they sure have freedom, but they also have 10 times the responsibility. And this responsibility is definitely more dangerous, and more challenging.
The education system in India might be bad, but that doesn't mean you can't learn. You most certainly can make the most of it. And making most of it is..fun. You go beyond your boundaries, you find new people, you lose old people. More importantly, you learn to deal with life. The teachers do not teach you. You have to take efforts, and honestly, don't you learn better like that, instead of Life Lessons fed to you?
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