4/20, 7/20, 14/50,
29/10. Believe it or not, these were my scores in mathematical tests during the
10th grade in my schooling days. I had barely made it to the 10th
grade . I was warned tha thte 10th grade was the most important grade
for CBSE students and that there would be exams and tests practically every
couple of weeks. I’ve never really feared numbers. But during that time,
numbers, symbols and formulae would haunt me not just during the day but even in the nights. My sleep wasn’t spared. I would have nightmares of numbers chasing me, haunting
admonishments of my mathematics teacher. It reached a stage where my teacher
decided to have all the ‘dummies’ sit down for an hour after class and ‘interact’
with the brilliant students. No prizes for guessing that I was the leader of
the ‘dummy’ pack. Not the most
noteworthy of achievements. I had already started hating the subject. I mean,
come on, it was coming in the way of my precious cricket time!!! Other kids
would play and I would be racking my brains to figure out some ridiculous
combination in Trignometry. Sin, Cos, Tan. Bleah!! And half the time, my
question to my classmates was ‘Are we EVER going to use any of this in our real
lives’. They wouldn’t answer. Most would go ‘tch tch tch’ and continue.
My parents tried
sending me to coaching classes. But I was more interested in distracting other
students than actually learning anything. I do believe that this was my way of ‘getting
even’ with the subject. I was in a zone where I told myself that I would more
and more people hate maths and that I would show the subject my middle finger
after the 10th grade (after which Maths ceases to be a compulsory
subject). Just another year and half to go.I had to somehow make it past the
pass mark of 40 out of 100. But back then, it seemed easier to get the sun to
rise from the west.
When we were half way
through the 10th grade, my maths (the poor thing) teacher was
genuinely worried. In our half-yearly tests, I had scored 23/100. The lowest in
the class. She would plead, shout, scream, beg to try to find out what was
wrong. But nope, I refused to improve. I was adamant. Mathematics had become my
mortal enemy. During the Parent-Teacher meeting,
my teacher lamented that I would probably not even be allowed to take the board
examinations if I went on like this. My scores in other subjects were fine.
And so my mom, the
perennial fixer, spoke to one of her friends. She explained in detail my
attitude regarding the subject. Her friend, a man named Ravindran, said that he
knew someone who could ‘straighten me’. She warned him, though, coz I had
already changed two tutors. He told her not to worry.
That weekend, when
the bell rang, I was greeted by Mr Murugappan. He asked me ‘Are you Jaideep?’ I
almost felt like saying ‘No, you’ve got the wrong house’, but my mom came out
and welcomed him saying that she was expecting me. I looked at her quizzically,
wondering what on earth was going on. Aah, got it. This is another one of her
efforts. I said to myself ‘Okayyy, just play along’. After a hot cup of tea, he sat me down. Now,
Mr Murugappan was one of the most ordinary men I had ever interacted with.
Right from his attire - a crumpled shirt and a pair of trousers which had
clearly seen better days- to his means of Transport- the modest rickety old
bicycle.
He introduced himself
as the Head of Statistics in Presidency College, Chennai. I was like ‘whoa, and
he comes here on a bicycle’. He then went on to tell us that his daughter was
in the US. He had saved all his money to give her good education and preferred
a simple life. Now that she was gone, he sought solace amongst his students,
treating them as his own children. I was like ‘good luck with this one’.
Having narrated his
story, the attention now turned to me. He asked me some very basic questions. There
was no way I couldn’t answer them, they were that simple. I mean, not exactly,
what is 2+2 but something more relevant to simple stuff that we learn in our 9th
grade. After his third question, he announced ‘madam, the boy is fine. There is
nothing to worry about. I will take him under me, your worries are over.’ .Mom
was elated. I was deflated. He fixed a time of 5-6pm every day for the first 2
months. My play time just went out of
the window for the umpteenth time.
Although I vividly
recollect his entry into my life, I do not clearly remember the first few
classes with him. I guess they were unremarkable. After about a week, he came
home on a Saturday evening. I was playing but he called out to me. When I saw
him, I was not happy. This was my play time and what on earth was he doing here
on a weekend. I actually was rude enough to tell him that I was busy playing.
He led out a throaty laugh and said ‘no problem, I will wait upstairs’.
Whatever!!! I continued playing and after a good one hour I went back up. He
was sitting with my mom and chatting away. As soon as he saw me, he said ‘looks
like you’ve played hard today’. He then pointed to the dining table where I saw
a packet. He said ‘I was at my friends house for a function, and I remembered
that Jaideep likes sweets, so I bought some for you, I must leave now’. I was
so embarrassed. He had come on a Saturday evening just to give me some freshly
made stuff because he knew I liked it. I couldn’t even apologize. Mom too knew
I was feeling bad but she and my grandmom didn’t say anything. Needless to say,
the sweets were delicious. It was an ice-breaker of sorts which made me soften
my stand. Towards him, but not towards the subject.
TO BE CONTINUED…
