5 people who influenced my life-Part 1

When I was in 6th or 7th standard, my moral science teacher had given us an assignment: Write a small essay about "My Hero". At that time, I felt no confusion as to about whom I should write. Like 90% people in the class, I too had written about Mahatma Gandhi and his services and struggles to free our nation. It was a time, when my actions and ideas were influenced by the majority. As I grew up, my stream of thoughts became somewhat different from those around me. I started to see things in a new light, without any ethical prejudices. As Indians, most of us go by the belief that there exist certain character traits which a person should possess, in order to be labelled "good". From childhood, we are supposed to grow up to be “good" people. So it was natural to write about a person who is so "good" that he was made the father of the nation.

Throughout my life, I met a lot of people. Some of them have been very influential in my life. But, many of them cannot be classified as "good", as per the explanation given in the beginning. They are very different from each other, their only common link being all of them were able to leave a mark in my life. I could say, I would never have been me-of-this-instant, without them. This is a tribute, a memoir to them. I will post about one of them, at a time. Else the post will be too large, and if I reduce and try to be precise, I am afraid I won’t be able to do justice to their importance in my life.
My mother- In every list compiled about favourites, the inclusion of one or both of the parents is obvious. But here, let me make myself clear: I am not emotionally very close to my family. It’s not that I don’t care for them, just that the care quotient is not as much as expected from a traditional Indian girl. Nevertheless, her place in this list is attributed to the legacies she passed onto me-Competitive spirit and an urge to excel in the field of academics. She, being a post-graduate, knew very well about the importance of good marks as the building blocks of a well-secured future. She never stopped me from playing or mingling with other kids, as some other moms who wanted their child to be a nonstop study-machine did. Instead, she asked me to keep a balance between both. After school, I was to play till 6.30 and study afterwards. I studied on my own, and she never interrupted the process. But she was always there to clarify my English grammar doubts, being M.A (English) degree holder.
Once in 1st standard, I got 49/50 in a General Science oral exam. I expected a 50, but one question cheated me-“How many wheels does a cycle have”? I had said three, remembering my old tri-cycle. Teacher was astonished. I was supposedly a very bright kid. “Are you sure”? She asked again. I nodded. Why doubt something that I know is true? While I was waiting excitedly to see the customary 50 being written on the slate (for orals, the score will be written in our slate, and we are supposed to present it to parents) the teacher wrote 48. I asked her why. She replied that a cycle has actually 2 wheels. I started arguing with her; how would I believe her? I was adamant and refused to accept anything less than 50. Then finally she dragged me (literally) to the cycle parking and showed one, asking me to count. Alas, there were no tri-cycles.
I started crying, explaining about my old cycle in between sobs. Other teachers came over to investigate. Negotiations were on. Finally it was decided that I will be awarded 49. I was agonized. It was a last of my 3 oral exams (I had already got 50 in Malayalam and Maths). My mother had promised me a Diary Milk if I got 50 in all the exams. Those days, Dairy Milks were the heights of luxury; you won’t get them more often than once in 4-5 months. I contemplated many things. Crying.... cajoling....pleading.... But I knew nothing less than a 50 will do any kind of magic. She was that stubborn.
Then finally I decided to do the un-thinkable, changing my mark written in the slate. I went around ransacking the house to find a piece of chalk. As luck would have it, I couldn’t find a chalk. All I could get was a tiny white slate pencil that produced a thin white line. With that, I tried to convert the 49 to 50. My rounded, school kid handwriting was clashed against the effortless flourish of teacher’s hand. I made a mess of it. The more I tried, the more horrid the outcome was. But at that time, I was ignorant of the fact that adults can easily recognise the difference.
When mom returned from office, I presented the slate. And tried to act happy for getting 50/50. She didn’t scold or accuse me. Instead, she gently explained to me about the importance of being truthful. Though I don’t remember the exact conversation now, I am sure that she explained things in a very effective way, suitable for a 6 year old. Because, till this date, I never repeated what I did that day. I have had many bitter failures in life, but the option of twisting the failure to look like success has never crossed my mind again. That was the best inheritance I got from my mother.
My mother always put education and career ahead of everything else. I think for her, even my marriage was a second priority. She made me realise the value of education at a young age. I always studied without compulsion. It is true that my studies suffered after class 10th. But again, I completed Engineering and got a decent job. The awareness of education, which she helped develop in me, is what helped me achieve this. I would be grateful to her for my entire life, thanks mom!!!!