Flight of a Goddess

Sunil was just another kid with a bright and happy face, abundant curiosity and enough energy to outlast all the elders in his family. Within a few days of joining kindergarten he was easily the most famous kid, with his constant pranks, quick learning skills and his winning smile, which made the teachers think twice before admonishing him for something.

He picked up his first pencil and started learning to write during Saraswati Puja that year. Saraswati, the goddess of learning and knowledge, was revered in his community, and one day each year, she was worshipped with much fanfare across the land. All students, teachers and those associated with academia, participated.

Things were fine till the first parent-teacher meeting. The teachers explained to his parents that he was the naughtiest kid since the dawn of civilization. And then things started to change… slowly, but surely. His parents, in their desperation to get him to conform, tried all things available – love, anger, punishment, limiting his friends, and so on… But Sunil’s free spirit reigned supreme.

About a year later he gained admission to a well-known school in the area albeit with a bit of persuasion from his parents and a hefty down payment. “You see, there are so many kids, and we take only the brightest...” was the common refrain across the four schools that rejected him !! His father kept wondering for years after that, how a school judged “brightest kids” among a bunch of bright and inquisitive, fidgety four-year-olds.  “Brightness” was linked to the down payment.

Four years later, Sunil began to suffer from pain in the lower back. It was diagnosed as being caused by the weight of his school bag. Most of his classmates had similar problems. His Mom started carrying his bag to and from school.

Sunil loved to play – simply running around with friends or hitting a ball with a bat or simply kicking it around … and that was the hardest thing to do !! If he wanted to play cricket, football, table-tennis or tennis, he had to enrol in a coaching camp or a class. If he wanted to simply run around and play catch, there were hardly a couple of kids available to play with. All the others were busy at this class or the other – drama, music, singing lessons, you-name-it.  He often asked his Mom, “Why does everything have to be a “study” ?”

During the early years, Sunil’s class performance was above par on all counts, except “attentiveness” and “not talking in class”. At one such parent-teacher meeting, his father asked the teacher, “Ma’am, these kids are sitting side-by-side in class for six hours a day, and two hundred days a year… And you expect them not to talk to each other at all ?” To the astonishment of everyone, the teacher answered, “Yes !!”

In class 5, he was asked to write an essay on a sudden unplanned holiday trip. He wrote about a sudden trip to Singapore along with his parents that he had undertaken the previous year. The teacher rejected his piece saying that she wanted real experiences not fantasy. It took his mother to come down to the school to explain that what he had written was fact. Sunil never could figure out what he had done wrong.

By the time he was in class 7, his marks began to falter, alarming his parents.  The class teacher suggested tuitions. And thus began a ritual – school, five days a week– tuitions, four days a week – music lessons, one day per week – cricket camp, two days a week;  there was simply no time to “play”. And his marks improved. His talent at field games and music flourished. But the goddess, Saraswati, had a worried frown.

That year they went on a holiday trip during the Puja break, touring parts of North India from Simla to Kulu-Manali and Delhi. By the time they returned, Sunil’s school had re-opened and he had missed two days’ classes. His father put in an application as a formality, stating that they had not been able to secure travel reservations in due time, causing Sunil to miss classes. The application was rejected by the Principal and his father was called. He was asked to put in a fresh application stating that Sunil was sick. It also had to be accompanied by a medical certificate !!  His father had no choice.  Sunil learned for the first time that one needs to “officially lie”.

In due time, he cleared his first High School Board exams with decent marks in the first division. But again no school would admit him in the Science stream at the Higher Secondary level. His parents repeated the cycle of his first admission – multiple school applications, multiple entrance interviews, and finally a hefty down payment for a seat.

Everyone advised his parents that Sunil should enroll for tuitions immediately, else he would not clear the two years of Higher Secondary level studies. His parent tried home tuitions – the first teacher made them buy seven books, taught for a couple of months and then disappeared!! He simply did not answer the phone thereafter. Those books were worthless – they had very little relevance to the course he was supposed to follow.  The next two teachers were highly erratic and did not even cover the first few lessons in the three important subjects. Sunil failed in all three at the half-yearly exams six months later.

As a stunned Sunil emerged with his report card from the school hall, his Maths teacher handed him a brochure, urging him to join the coaching center he owned. Most of his then current teachers taught there too. He did. The very next day.

The marks showed a dramatic improvement in the subsequent exams. The huge monthly pay-outs to the coaching center were working. Sunil was happy, but his parents were alarmed. They kept telling him to prepare for the Higher Secondary Board exams on his own. But where was the time ? School and tuitions consumed all the hours. Everything else went flying out the window.

The Higher Secondary Board exams were upon him in due time, followed by numerous competitive exams for admissions to different colleges. Once again, he scored decently, at the Board exams and in some of the competitive ones, but admission to a college was determined by yet another down payment.

Four years later he was a graduate, with a degree, and set out to make his place in the world. He carried a lot of angst and the irreverence for his teachers was almost total. He was what he had become in spite of them, not because of them.

It remains to be seen what kind of professional he will turn out to be.

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Was Sunil a “good” student or a “bad” one ? Your guess is as good as mine.

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There was a time, not very long ago, when teachers were revered as another set of guardians alongside the parents. They labored for the development and improvement of their wards. The wards, in turn, held them in awe throughout their lives.

There was a time, not very long ago, when acquiring knowledge was fun and challenging, when thirst for knowledge was supposed to be blessed by the goddess Saraswati, in all her manifestations.

There was a time, not very long ago, when those in academia viewed children as budding flowers, full of untapped potential. Mentoring was the order of the day.

All that is history.

Somewhere along the line, the goddess of learning had taken flight, taking with her the fun and frolic of Sunil’s youth and those of his peers.

The value system that she embodied lies in a shambles.

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