...........Teacher's Day: Some Reflections............

           It has been more than twenty years I am in the teaching profession but strangely enough I find it hard to be professional in approach.  I haven’t been able to get my emotions out of it. It becomes even more surprising to remember that I wanted to be anybody but teacher. But then accidents do happen in life and looking back I can say with a smile that this particular accident has been an enriching experience.  In spite of a disastrous first year in college I hung on. In next year I warmed up to my role as a teacher. Slowly, silently twenty years just went by, simply unknowingly but making me richer every year not monetarily but by emotional bonds, bonds of mutual trust and appreciation. 

          We have a tendency to glorify nostalgia but against its reflections we condemn present. We teachers often reflect on past batches with a kind of acceptance but find it difficult to give approval to present batch. For us every previous batch is better than the current one. I don’t know how many would buy this observation but that’s what I genuinely feel.  In tune with my observations, for me the past certainly remained glorious. I got great affection from my students. I was never short of ideas and interestingly many could generate curiosity in students. Every year I tried to learn to be a better teacher, succeeded partially as I felt every year that I need to improve. I honestly feel I evolved as a teacher, as a human being, gained maturity, committed mistakes, learned to learn and the process is not finished yet. I don’t think it will reach the end till I retire. 

          Once I realized I could teach well I started enjoying teaching. Students bore the brunt of my way of teaching for I always needed extra classes. Fortunately I never found such extra classes deserted but rather I remember once they even came on the day of Ganesh Visarjan. I finished the lecture earlier so that nobody is trapped in the blocked roads. All the students reached home without any hurdle but not I. I stayed in the college discussing some concepts with some hostel students, found myself searching for passage and only after great maneuvering and trouble I finally reached home. Somehow such extra classes, finishing the syllabus in this way had grown into my psyche. It gave me satisfaction of doing my best while teaching. The sense of being able to give justice to my course always remained a source of peace for me. In last two- three years that peace eluded me.

          That rhythm of teaching seemed to just slip out of hand. I felt students were less interested causing me to lose interest; I am sure for them it may have been other way round. That vicious cycle of negativity ruptured my peace. It forced me to contemplate, look inwards. There definitely is a growing feeling that the students are losing interest in classroom teaching. As I have been observing for last couple of years the students are reluctant to occupy front benches. Seats are occupied from last row. I myself being a perpetual backbencher leaves no room for me to complain but there always were eager few, desperate for front benches rescuing members of my fraternity. The trend we are observing is different. They seemed to have lost interest in teacher as well as teaching. There must be a mismatch of what they want and what we are providing. May be we are unable to fulfill the expectations. But the truth is the class I find filled with discouraging negativity. 

          At personal level I find myself guilty of not being able to generate interest. My honest analysis revealed to me that I was lost in the indifferent atmosphere. Why did it happen? Is it that I was experiencing a kind of saturation where I lost the vigour to start afresh every year? The fact is there always were students indifferent to my class but I kept my interest in teaching alive. Yes there certainly were reasons I cannot share, not now, may be at an opportune time in future but still I should not have allowed apathy to circle around me.  But in spite of such atmosphere I could manage some nice initiatives with the help of students. As usual some students did break into my close proximity. The common thread was they loved being intellectually adventurous. 

       All those who liked my teaching, liked my ideas, found a friend in me to confide with and all those who came close through intellectual interaction remained in contact even after passing out. The activities I initiated to challenge the imagination, intellectual capacity could not always penetrate the masses but all those who got involved never severed link. Fortunately this link remained intact in these years of difficulty. It was not that I taught badly but somewhere I felt internally that I missed that sense of attachment with my teaching. This was the internal   turmoil I was finding it hard to deal with. Lack of interest of students reflecting in my losing interest was difficult for me to digest for my job was essentially to generate interest in students. A thought came to me that why I could not be proactive. I tried it. What I don’t know is how much interest I have been able to generate in them but at least they seemed to be responding positively. More importantly I am at peace with myself trying to teach to the best of my ability, ever eager to improve.

     Once one of my students asked what motivated me, my response was even if only ten students out of hundred show interest in my teaching it was enough for me to do my best. It goes to the credit of my students that they were always more than ten out of less than hundred. This frame of mind left me in last couple of years but I feel I got hold of it. I just hope the bad patch is over. As a matter of fact the feedback from students reveal that it was not really a bad patch but from the standards I want to set for myself it was not to the best of my satisfaction, something only I know. All I hope this time is to turn the table. They still occupy from the last row but to counter the gap now I try to reach to them. They create the gap but why can’t I bridge it, why can’t I go to them? I don’t know how far it will succeed but at least it will insulate me from negativity. 

          I believe students-teacher relationship has now become a victim of time, the time that is enforcing changes faster than ever before. This is similar to what Alvin Toffler has mentioned in his fantastic book Future Shock. Our relationships with everything from objects to humans are becoming shorter and shorter in time. The world around us is changing faster than our imagination, the reason we find it difficult to understand and hence we settle down to impermanence. We are always in search of change but what escapes our imagination is that to change means to unsettle meaning disturbance and anybody who wants peace, satisfaction has to search for stability that can come only through permanence. Students-teacher relations cannot escape this impermanence. Students focus on marks which they can get even without assistance of teacher in shortest possible time but they lose on learning which is beyond the scope of syllabus. Teachers attend to finishing the syllabus in whatever short time available in planner but find it too hard to focus on the process of learning. This course of mutual omission has killed teacher-students relationship, plunged it in spiral of indifference. What has now been called as professional approach adopted by number of students and teachers, in my opinion is driven by narrow academic interests executed in shortest time, the casualty obviously is the emotional bonding. Where is the time and necessity to settle down to a mature, ever evolving association which is one of the most beautiful relationships humans can get into, of mutual admiration, which crosses all barriers man made or natural,  which also defies time and which is called teacher-student bonding?

                When oblivious to what he needs and what he actually seeks student blames teacher and cut off from aspirations of him then teacher blames student. Neither is happy, satisfied, just caught in endless game of blaming, searching for excuses to justify each others’ stand. What should have been on the foundation of mutual trust is in the whirlwind of distrust, indifference. This situation apart many teachers and students  break this shell of apathy and find themselves in the ever blossoming association that stands test of time. Their life goes through an enriching experience. The whole idea of Teacher's day then gets new meaning, the formal programme gets the attention it deserves but its dryness fails to affect the psyche. Years pass but time leaves no impact on the association of a teacher and students who find in him a close confident, an advisor and above all a friend. It lasts longer than a day called Teacher's day. As for me I feel blessed to have lot of students who showered on me the love, affection and respect far more than I deserved. No wonder Teacher's day then, for me, is a day engulfed in blissful nostalgia. Shouldn’t I then thank all my students? 

Thank you dear all. Take care.

Who am I?

Who am I?

Who am I?

I am the one who declares your presence for the first time

I am the one who shows you the light taking you out from the warm darkness

When you cry for the first time, I smile for your normal health

When you don’t, I act with alacrity to make you cry

When you start growing, I ensure you grow well

When you are in distress, I come to relieve you

When you are depressed, I counsel you

When your cover is ripped apart, I seal it with stitches

When the frame is broken, I fix it in hard shell

When your heart challenges you, I graft a bypass

Fate believes in death, I adore life

When final battle comes to an end, fate is an eternal winner

But I never lose for I fight till the last breath of the breathless 

My dear friend I am a close friend of you

A faithful companion in this journey of humanity 

Full of life, beauty and bliss

From womb to tomb I accompany you

Who am I?  Who am I?

A close friend of you

 My dear friend I am a Doctor, I am a Doctor

                                                                           Parag Dhankar

[The Story goes like this: 

      I was on my bike at around 7.30 pm negotiating the dreaded roads and chaotic traffic of Chandrapur when I experienced the vibration of  mobile. It was a call by my friend Dr. Manish Mundhada who first throws light down my throat and then prescribes pills to follow the same path when the path loses its smoothness. That was 29th  June. Next day they had Doctor's day celebrations. He wanted from me some lines to be displayed. I promised him that I would try but could do only after reaching home. He wanted it that night only. I came home at around 8.30 pm, had dinner. Then I tried to  gather thoughts, fought with words to express them and finally wrote above lines. It was promptly sent to Dr. Manish. He liked these lines. Next day came the call from Mundhada Uncle (Manish's father, he is also a Doctor and close friend of my father) full of love and appreciation giving me immense satisfaction. I am sharing this with all of you mainly because Ravi insisted I should post it on my blog. ]

In Search of Milkha Singh

             Watching a movie without a reliable feedback or without reading a review is a risky business. Not long ago I had been to a movie by Madhur Bhandarkar. The movie Heroine staring Kareena was such an emotional disaster that it became even more difficult for me to convince myself about any other movie being a nice entertainment. Apart from wasting money and time it turned out to be mentally punishing. It challenged my wisdom of relying only on Madhur Bhandarkar’s antecedents and ignoring reviews. Its fall out was inevitable. To the desperation and anger of my family I ruled out many proposals for having a great time in theater. Of course they always had the choice of going without me for which they were reluctant. Last Sunday again the movie came on the agenda. This time it was Bhaag Milkha Bhaag. The favourable reviews were  assuring and yes I was optimistic about Farhan Akhtar. As promos projected, he had worked really hard for the movie. Milkha Singh  the best athlete we have ever had has always been an inspiring figure. I decided to take risk and invested my time and money. We all enjoyed. It was a really good movie. Nice blend of flashback, thrill, tragedy and positive dynamism. But for the slightly overstretch in time it was a great experience watching it.

          More than just entertaining it is an inspiring movie. It has lot of hidden messages. Milkha was a natural runner but that is the talent you may be born with. Not enough. You have to sweat it out. A born runner not doing enough to give justice to what is being bestowed by divinity is a waste. And doing justice is not about winning or losing, it is about body drenched in sweat whole day. It is about saying no to all kinds of distractions and single mindedly pursuing the dream, not just of winning a local competition but of fighting the best in the world. Better said than done, the fight begins with oneself. The first sight of hardwork takes away most of the enthusiasm. The dream melts quickly. We resign to our fate; accept the defeat not on the field, not in the mind but in the heart. The imagined picture of our body fighting for the breath, sweat oozing from every pore, throat as dry as desert and every part of the body releasing  painful realization of its existence drills a big hole in the heart. We are now content with our comfort, we may not forget the dream but the realization of it gets a decent burial. And those who are smart enough can always gain sympathy by finding a nice little excuse or just by blatantly blaming it on ever available fate and circumstances.

          What is true for Milkha cannot be less true for others dreaming in different fields. Milkha ran for only few seconds in the competition and his zeal to run for even fewer seconds never waned. But to run for even fewer seconds he had to run hundreds of miles everywhere on the field, in the mountains, on the plains, in the high altitude zones. He ran alone, he ran pulling the weight, he ran strapping the weight above ankle, but this weight was always less than the weight of the world record he wanted to break and was much lighter than the humiliation he already had suffered in the defeat. For those wonderful seconds, a beautiful moment on a bright day he ran for hours every day for weeks, months, years. That’s the spirit of Milkha. It is seen everywhere. The scientist forgetting about the hours he is in the laboratory, a dancer losing sense of time while practicing, a student forgetting food and water while studying all have a thread in common, that’s the  enduring spirit of Milkha Singh.

          I once read  an incident about the great classical singer Ustad Bade Gulam Ali Khan. A man used to go to his work along the lane where Ustadji lived. While going to work he heard Ustadji rehearsing a note. When he came back in the evening he found Ustadji  working on the same note.  He must have been doing it for hours. A break, some rest and he was at it again. What a pursuit for perfection. Working on minute details for hours.  Building brick by brick. No wonder his legacy still stands tall even after his demise. The stories of greats are all strewn with such incidents. The temptation of dreaming the whole picture and being enticed by it is difficult to resist but it is at the cost of working on the weakest link.  The difference between great and one who could have been great lies here. Those who adopt a short cut do not leave the legacy of life time achievers.

           Working on such tiny details for hours, days and weeks is not all physical. It often is about mind for the sense of monotony is extremely difficult to defeat. Having a terrific devotion to perfection and dissolving completely in the practice perfecting the tiniest element is like hitting a huge rock with small hammer and chisel, till it breaks along the lines drawn to the design. It is not all about breaking the rock into pieces using sledge hammer for it breaks the rock to undefined pieces. It is all about removing smaller  unwanted pieces and ultimately carving a sculpture out of it. Being Milkha is about carving an athlete out of rock solid talent. The role of mentor is catalytic. The process revolves around self, inner and outer.

          What is then in people like Milkha Singh that makes them different? They are supremely passionate about what they dream. But is passion enough to resist the temptation of distractions? Is it enough to drive you to run when all resources seems to have been exhausted? Is it enough to push the body every time beyond the physical level of endurance? Passion is what we all possess but that is not enough, what one needs is an element of insanity, that glorious insanity that drives the body as mind orders, that too without complaint. You have to be insane about your dream. This glorious insanity insulates these men from the diversions, attractions and frustrations arising out of interaction with society. They dissolve into themselves, into their pursuit of perfection. They don’t follow the order set for them by so called sane elements in society. They choose their own path. Those who follow the path not marked by society are quickly labeled as insane. But those who get immersed in the glorious insanity in pursuit of their dreams are later accepted by society as greats. They rise to the pedestal as idols.

         Their iconic stature hides the insanity with which they once labored hard. Everybody has a great hidden in him, so there also must have been that glorious insanity hidden somewhere deeper in the self that pushes one relentlessly to work harder beyond physical limits, without adhering to the norms of comfort defined by society. We must discover it. We must strive to find it. When one finds that glorious insanity and identifies his dream, it is just a matter of time before the volcano erupts.                              

 Till then Bhaag Milkha Bhaag…   

Gian Shows the Way

Gian Shows the Way

          It was a party thrown by a friend of mine. He was recently promoted, a long overdue, achieved through hard work, more than anything he was extremely happy about being acknowledged. The mood was jubilant. It was a closely held small group. Initial congratulations were followed by cheers which I joined with my sweet lime soda. The discussion invariably centered on his promotion and ensuing new responsibility. With every added responsibility comes increased stress, everybody agreed. Then one friend working in software company experiencing work stress as a routine simply pointed out it was a new way of life. Work pressure everybody has to deal with especially in private sector. My businessman friend was blunt in making a comment that if you want to make money you had to face work pressure, stress follows immediately. Being quiet for all this time I was listening to the discussion and giving my consent as well to whatever was coming out of it.

      All of a sudden focus shifted to me, they seemed to have realized that I was only nodding, nothing was added from me. They all turned to me with a sense that I was in the best of jobs with little tension. No worry. One even recalled my dialogue that in this profession the accountability was always with the other side and credit unshared. The better results were due primarily to teaching and poor performance was the result of lack of study on students’ part. This was how I once funnily talked about my profession; they were getting me on same line. I was a bit defensive but pointed out that it ultimately varies from person to person. You cannot become good teacher for it is a process of evolving as person, a nice human being and then only becoming eligible to be a good teacher. Merely being able teach well is not enough but indeed it a precondition. He has to have an honest sense in him to always look in the best interest of students.  

   Indeed the stress levels here are different, it is often moral pressure, highly intimate, very difficult to share and even less understood. It has to be handled differently. Not everybody experiences this but every good teacher does. After so many years I feel I am not even halfway mark. Statement finished, I had successfully defended my profession. I made my point that being a good teacher was difficult. May be the reason why they are hard to find. Everybody was silent I felt I had pushed them into boredom. With little guilt I wanted the party to hang on for a while, so maintaining a smiling face I made my final point that everybody has to handle pressure, the question is how better you do it? The topic shifted smoothly to less serious level, jokes cracked, lighter moments shared. The end came on a happier note.  

      With sweet lime soda inside I had no problem next morning of hang over but somewhere deep within discussion on stress resided. Anything we find hard to do is stressful, true physically as well as mentally. Irrespective of any profession it is a common line joining everybody. This stress often manifests in the form of anger. Once angry we react, do not respond. The spontaneity of anger is uncontrollable. Only after our reaction is over, anger subsided we know what we did. We also have a sense of justifying the act attributing it to anger. As we all experience, anger never solves the problem in fact it is counterproductive, it often makes a dent in relationships.

     Couple of days went by, the party and tormenting discussion faded in memory. The daily routine helps you forget lot of things. Once you are onto the ride you live in immediate present. The signing muster, first lecture, third lecture, practical… Just no time to look back or beyond. But sometimes it is different. You simply miss your rhythm. The lecture seems to slip out of hand. You feel internally that everything is just messed up but cannot control. You are not at your best, that’s it, for apparently no reason or may be you are not able to fathom it. That day was just like that. The first lecture, the third one, I knew I was not enjoying it but couldn’t help. You also are not allowed to say that I have missed my rhythm and I need a break today, there simply is no provision for this. The victims undoubtedly …students. They have no other option but to sit and listen quietly. The danger being with his mind out of focus teacher is likely to overreact and resort to punishment.

     Desperate for the whole day I got back home, hoping to relax softly on sofa, watch evening news. You hardly pass a day when nothing happens; the breaking news is always on air. Silly, stupid, outrageous, funny, sordid, adorable, deplorable, sad, unfortunate… something is definitely there. I was hoping that it would get me out of deadlock. I wanted to find way out of that undefined boredom of the day. But my little daughter had different plans altogether. I just sat on sofa and was searching for ever eluding remote when she dashed in. Ensconced firmly herself on sofa, took out the remote just like magic wand, the show was on. She was in no mood to give up and forcing her to handover the remote to watch news was out of question for she was buying on a promise given by her mom. Exasperated I was started watching helplessly Doraemon.

      I was really angry otherwise the show was not that killing. That sweet little robot, innocent Nobita, funny big boy Gian, naughty Suneo, sweet Shizuka, there innocent pranks, smart, funny gadgets provided by Doraemon often providing sort of help to Nobita but he invariably messing it up. It is usually a fun but not that day. Waiting for a cup of tea I was reluctantly watching the show. Before tea could come Gian came running in, radiating anger. Pounding his fist, pointing it to others started saying he was angry and must hit somebody. For no fault of theirs, just to quell his anger they have to face the punches. He being unchallenged boss physically others expecting raining blows from him simply ran berserk. My anger doubled. What is this nonsense they are showing? Telling children to hit somebody when angry or that’s the way to subside anger. I had no answers for they elude you when enraged.

      I don’t know how but a simple question crept in can you do it like Gian, hitting when angry … no…but telling that you are angry and need to hit somebody? Yes… No… no easy answers came by. Just felt that it was impossible. Once angry you simply lose control. The spontaneity in anger is almost impossible to contain. Realizing that you are angry and telling others what you are on and that you need to hit punches to calm down is next to impossible, I felt. Is it really impossible… may be not… but when we do, it is not a reaction but our response. The response is calculated not spontaneous. If it is measured it is a sign of successful handling of anger whose origin is often stress, hidden deep within, residing incognito, feeding on failure to acknowledge and understand its presence. When we get angry the reason often is different not what is apparent. We actually crack internally, slowly, unknowingly over a period of time but react to a situation and get angry of seemingly frivolous reasons. If this is understood well enough then we get even with anger without violently reacting. A close observation reveals that erratic, short tempered people are often internally stressed, disturbed. The pressure within ultimately manifests through external bursts.

   Is it then possible to maintain internal calm to avoid blowing out externally?  It is difficult but not impossible. The difficulty really sinks in a kind of impossibility but knowing it is in itself a great idea. But question still remains how Gian could do it? Because he lives in present. No burden of past, no anxiety of future. Without any prejudices his heart is as pure and innocent as one can get. This purity and innocence enables him to know that he is angry, allows him to calculate his response as he needs to punch somebody to kill anger. Mature as we are we can choose our response differently. Even if we tell somebody about being angry with plain heart, deep honesty the anger would lose its bite. For a person like me labeled as short tempered, Gian shows the way. Is it not worth trying?

  

    

Invisible Hand

Invisible Hand

        ‘Life is a curious blend of efforts and destiny. It does happen that we start our journey on a path having clear idea of the destination and the possible timeline but then you miss the timeline and start wondering about the combination of efforts and destiny. At a time when your patience is being tested, your sincerity is being questioned there you find people standing by you, believing in you. This acknowledgement is the sincere expression of gratitude to all whose faith in me remained unmoved.’

         This was how I started my acknowledgement in my M.E. thesis. My M.E. long overdue, in abeyance, due to unfinished project work, was a matter of worry, indifference and of ridicule, of taunts unleashed at me often camouflaged in show of care.

         But then in period like this when you desperately seek someone who believes in you, you invariably clash with so called well wishers who make you suffer internally. I also went through the same situation. It all began when after putting some good, can be said to be excellent performance in examination I just lost my link, becoming completely out of sync with project. Why I lost, there is just no reason strong enough to push as an excuse. I just lost it, no concrete reason whatsoever. But then you feel about it. No loss of confidence, no depression, no drop in passion for academic activity but just loss of interest in completion of project. Last barrier to be conquered, could have been done easily, but no attempt from my side. Strange… extremely strange… but true. Couple of years gone by, I tried to revive, but for some reason it did not go my way.

     A strong believer in ‘time’, I gradually realized it was not with me. It was a deadlock that had no solution in present. Best idea is to wait for the swing of time in my favour, till then keep nerves cool. Period of self learning. Not to panic. Deal with every challenge to your patience with patience only. Time is a fair entity; it will not be against you all the time. Problem is we turn our back on it, leaving no room for conceiving its turn in our favour. This understanding was with me for I always advised my students suffering under the burden of failures along the same line. The difficulty was I had to apply that to me. But then that was the real challenge. Easy to lecture, most difficult to implement at personal level. I don’t know how far I was successful but was able to maintain my composure, deliver to the best of my ability while teaching, and given the affection I got in return from my students I could claim some success. What was amusing was that my students never rated me by my qualification and friends never lost faith. Internally I was confident, was buying time.

      The dark realities of relationships come to fore when a weaker side of yours is exposed to attack. But then best part of such situations is the insight you get about the relationships. The prism through which you are being looked into becomes clearly visible. Friends and closer ones worry about you, well wishers show concern but there always are some who pretend to be well wishers but in fact want to malign you asking embarrassing questions under the pretext of enquiring the status. If observed closely most people reveal their identity, dealing with you their motives get exposed. The dangerous part is some find in you an ideal candidate for exploitation. They often come up with obligatory solutions, you become dangerously close to enter in a trap where you just maintain status quo, problem perpetuates.

      This philosophical part apart the time finally smiled on me. The deadlock opened up. I jumped on the moving boat cruising to my destination. What I experienced in the last phase of completion of my project was entirely different, something that you simply don’t realize while going through it as anxiety and associated uncertainty overpowers the journey. You simply move uncontrollably as part of the stream, along the slope. I had to stick to some deadlines, if I wanted to finish the project in around 8 months. Getting the desired results within deadline, giving seminar and finally thesis writing and submission. Any missed deadline and project will take one more year which obviously I desperately wanted to avoid. That would have been emotionally testing, depressing for me.

       As for the efforts I had to invest, I was devoted but them there always are other impediments beyond your control, unavoidable at times. They just come, slow you down, leave you with no option but to bow, wait for the tide to recede. There was a huge event of national proportion at the college, the share of responsibility I could never have escaped. I finished with some crucial results just in time and got immersed in that event. It took two months. As soon as I was free, I had to process the results for final submission. The processing was over, shared with my guide and came back home. When I reached the shocker was waiting for me. I was greeted with the news of mother’s illness. Next day we packed off to Spandan heart institute at Nagpur. Investigation followed, succeeded by bypass surgery.

        It took around two months to settle down and I was back to square one fighting for final submission. I had only one month to finish all the work. 30^th April was finishing line. Unable to reach there in time, there would have been inevitable, crushing wait of half year for next date. I was literally running to finish, and yes finally it was a photo finish. I submitted the thesis on 30^th April. I relaxed. Wanted to relish the moment. The summer vacation had begun, I was at Nagpur, got a call on 5^th May, my father had a paralytic stroke. He was hospitalized but then I was free to attend him. In due course I appeared for defense, result came out, M.E. was added to my qualification.

         Not much changed, nothing in me changed, I remained same person. Looking back at the tumulus last phase, a close analysis revealed to me that but for some delicate positioning of events I would never have been able to finish my work by 30^th April. Had my experimental results been delayed, the big event at college would have played villain, any delay in processing or health issue of my mother at any earlier date, the line of finish would certainly have missed, and finally the submission and illness of my father just after 4 days, a small difference of 4 but big enough to push submission by 6 months. The succession of events leaves no room for any manipulation else I would be in the waiting queue standing for one more year to get through. I simply did not have any control over the placement of these events in different slots. The great thing is they all were inserted to suit me, at least it seems. The health issues of parents with age are bound to visit, no none can escape but the timing nobody can control. When the time is on your side everything falls in line else even a small thing can make your life difficult, nothing seems to go your way. Being a believer I strongly feel that somebody, don’t know where, may be up there, everybody is free to call Him the way he wants, the Master Controller, made it for me.

      Any look backward I feel immensely satisfied to see my friends, family members for never questioning my ability, standing by me and yes..finding my pocket full of love and affection of  my students whom I have dedicated my blog. M.E.. or minus  ME, PG or no PG… they always touched my heart, flocked around me, showered on me lot of affection. The sense is so fulfilling. One such student very close to me called couple of days back. He was recuperating from a major surgery. He was booming with his enthusiasm, fighting with the stitched body, cut ribs. He was supremely confident of getting back to normal routine, joining company by the end of month. Around a month back he lived dangerously. He was on his way to his home town, going for his marriage, delighted, dreaming, happy in and out. He was feeling some pain in stomach, in fact from last week may be. As the journey began it accelerated. Reaching home he was in acute pain, unbearable it was but being a man of endurance he could put a smile on face.

      The doctors there realized something serious, beyond gastric problem which doctors till then were thinking. The scanning done, the matter was serious. Immediately sent to big hospital. It was  serious .. really serious. His diaphragm was shattered, intestine  twisted, half lung collapsed, he was breathing 40 percent of full capacity. He realized it but still maintained cool, talked to doctor, kept assuring face in front family which was in shock. He went through life threatening surgery. Hours of anxiety passed, the surgery was successful. His recovery started. A tough man he grasped the space, collected all his positive energy, started working on his exercises. Recovery was faster. An accident two years back had resurfaced in this form, visited earlier due to some vigorous regime of exercises he went through.

     On phone he was back with all his vigour, revealing future plans, back to his business. Amazing thing… he was finding positives in the sequence of events. He thinks it would have been even more serious had it happened in Pune. He got a great doctor in skill as well as a terrific human being. Thinks,  if it had to happen, better earlier, not after increased responsibilities, that he was lucky it happened before marriage. The doctor was God sent. He is now all cylinders fired up mentally, physical strength will come soon. In the sequence of events he finds His presence. A help hidden. So positive in thinking. Great. God bless him.

       I concluded my acknowledgement with a sentence. I am confident that I have a taker for it …Kanishk. ….

      ‘Finally the helping hand you always experience, as familiar as it can be but at the same time as anonymous as one can be, thanking it is beyond my strengths.’