Penned onboard an Etihad flight London-Abu Dhabi-Hyderabad
(01-Mar-2016)
Sometime in 1985
and 1986 - He was excited, very excited for that day, he, his parents
and brother moved into the 2nd floor, one bedroom apartment within
the IIT, Bombay campus. With 15 years of
life behind him and having just completed his 10th, he knew that the
next 2 years would define what he will be for the rest of his life. He was prepared to bury himself into the
books perhaps motivated and inspired by the nerds in the IIT campus that he
came across every day. He had to find a
corner in that apartment that will be his, where he was determined to burn the
night oil and crack the JEE for that seat in IIT. “Mom”, he shouted in excitement after scouring
the tiny little apartment “this window and this corner is where I will study”.
He peered through the window and marveled at the exquisite
sight that confronted him. The evening
red sun cast a beautiful reflection in the waters of the lake in Powai. The birds chirping away to glory heading
towards their home, 2 naughty little squirrels rummaging for some food,
scampering up and down the Eucalyptus tree while a crickets’ shrill call cut
through the otherwise silent environs. Aaah,
what a perfect place he thought for himself to keep company before he would
shift to a hostel room in the campus absolutely confident that he will be
completing his B.Tech from IIT.
Resnick and Halliday, Bohr and Bohr, Bruce H Mahan, IE
Irodov, Hall Knight, SL Loney, booklets from Brilliant Tutorials and Agarwal
Classes were keeping him company during the early mornings of study time. He marveled at the problem construct of the
bird flying to and fro between 2 trains approaching each other trying to arrive
at the distance flown. He would often
feel dejected in a circle of friends who would solve complex questions in a
jiffy whereas he would have had to spend an inordinate time to understand and
get to the solution. Doesn’t matter he
thought…I shall work hard very hard, very very hard to compensate for this lack
of intelligence. And so, he would soon
sleep at 9 pm and wake up at 3 am and a few weeks later 8 pm to 2 am and a few
months later 8 pm to 1 am. He wanted to
cut down any TV time, any conversations with the outside world. Studies was his world. The goal was clear. And he used to dream….
He dreamt and dreamt big.
He also dreamt of those thoughts that a typical teenager would. Yes, the Indo-Pak cricket matches were
on. Doordarshan was just bringing in
live coverage of the Test Matches. He
would steal a few moments during the day, watching Imran Khan’s fast marauding in-swingers
snuffing the whiff out of the Sunil Gavaskars, Dilip Vengsarkars of India. Those were the days of the Kapil Dev and
Karsan Ghavri who would sometimes be taken to smithereens by Zaheer Abbas and
his gang. And then his dream would
begin…If only, I were the bowler…I would have bowled at 150 kmph, a fast
out-swinger followed by the fastest in-swinger and get Pak bowled out within 50
runs and then I will bat to take India to victory. And then there were these thoughts, the
attractive kind of ones. He used to think of his favorite and the most
beautiful Chemistry teacher, Ms Sunita Bhatia or of his coy classmate Ms Rajani
A, whose mesmerizing smile would evoke sublime feelings in him. He would often stare out of the window
thinking of all the beauty that his eyes could take. He would watch the rain beating down on the
lake at the other end and guess to almost perfection the time the clouds would
bring the rain to his window making a line in the lake while advancing towards
him. He would peep out to watch the
droplets of water over the leaves and marvel at how the woodpecker went about
its routine and the squirrels ran around playing one another.
He still remembers that day, when his father came round to his corner and said “Son..”. Not often did his Dad speak to him and he
thought that something would be serious gazing at the caring face of his
Dad. “I have been observing…” he started
to say…”Well rather, I am noticing that you are not really studying well and
rather are engrossed in thoughts…I see you stare out of the window a lot. Are
you doing ok?” Before, I could answer,
he continued “At your age, Son…” he said “There are lot of thoughts that come
into mind. These thoughts are more like
dreams and most of the times have no intrinsic value” he added. “You have been working very hard…but you
should take care of these thoughts that would not help you. The moment you recognize that there are these
thoughts, let your mind recognize and understand that these are of little help
and they are stealing your time. Bring
back your thoughts to your books” Saying this, his Dad left as quickly as he
came. “Wow” he thought perhaps stung by
the words and the weight they carried.
That was a defining moment for him.
His dads’ profound thoughts had a great impact on him. From that day, he would recognize these
thoughts as soon as they would start incubating in his mind and he would
immediately shun them away. Over a
period of the next few days, he was able to train his mind well. He was back to his routine, to his carefully
laid out study time table. Monday,
Physics, Tuesday, Chemistry, Wednesday and Thursday, Math, Friday, XII
subjects….He was putting in some 8 hours a day at the table, at his corner
table overlooking the lake. Play and
gossip became alien to him.
Steadfastness onto the goal was of paramount importance.
It was soon the deliverance day. The IIT JEE.
He prayed hard. The exams will
define his future…he was confident of doing well…but there was always the fear
that lurked of “what if”. Chemistry and
Physics were reasonably easy but Math he thought was tough. A few glances around during the Math exam
reassured him that he was not alone.
Tension was writ large on almost all the faces that he could
discern. His doubts were laid to rest
when he enquired with his friends who felt and equitable pain when confronted
with that exam. Ok, I did what I could
do and as his mom and dad always told him “Leave the rest to the
almighty”.
The results day dawned post an agonizing period of a vacuous
wait. The day seemed drawn and
stretched. The selection list was to be
put up at 5 pm that evening. Exhausted
perhaps with anxiety, he unusually dozed off into a deep slumber that
afternoon. Is it already 4:30 pm? I should be waking up and going to the
results office was his subconscious state of mind. He woke up with a start and started to get
ready. His parents meanwhile, came to
his bed. Something did not seem right to
him. Their behavior seemed rather
odd. His mother came by and sat on his
bed and spoke ever so softly. “Son” she
started “…we just went to the office and saw the results. They were put up at 3”, she took a deep
breath and what came out of her mouth next was something that he could never
ever forget. “….your number did not show
up”. “What” he said, his face suddenly
ashen as if all the blood drained out.
“It can’t be…it can never be…I am destined to study at IIT…you made a
mistake…you did not see the list properly”.
Saying that he rushed out and rode his bicycle. The 1 km ride seemed agonizingly slow and
took eternity to reach. He approached
the notice board and strained his neck through the crowd. 1457, 1482, 1532, 1588. No the next 3 columns is where his number
would be. 6324 ought to be listed. 5498, 5582…no the next column…ok, ok..6127,
6200, 6310, 6321, 6344, 6356….No, No…I should go back. I need to re-read, he thought. The second pass did not yield the result he
was looking for. The third pass…No..
How, Why, there must be a mistake and all the set of questions came flooding to
his sunken mind. My parents were right
he thought. His number was missing. What could have happened?
With a lump in his heart and a tear rolling down his cheek,
he rode back home ever so slowly. He went to his room, his window peered out
into emptiness. Suddenly, the lake
appeared blurred, the trees appear blurred through his moist eyes. He held the window with his hands, his
emotions gave in and he burst out crying.
A cry that came from deep within his heart, tears flowed. His parents were waiting for the emotions to
drain out. His mother came by and
whispered comforting thoughts. His mind
was blank and nothing was registering.
Her garbled words made no meaning.
He shouted “Why me? What did I
not do? Did the sacrifices not mean
anything? How did Sumit Roy get
through? He studied for a lesser time
than I did? Why me Mom? Why me Dad?
What wrong did I do to deserve this?
My life is done? I can no longer
face my friends. I am an abject
failure…”
