My Idol: Ma'am Radha

Visited school today to get my marksheet photocopies attested. Part of MS formalities. Waiting outside the Headmistress' cabin, I suddenly noticed through the glass panes that she was busy meeting with some of her staff inside. Peering further I saw that the one speaking was my beloved teacher of Std.X, Mrs. Radha Balakrishnan!! The brightest and best teacher I've had yet!! I'd thought she'd already left school! Me being from the Class of 2003, most of my teachers had by now left school. I felt tremendous joy to see her there then! On the threshold of going to the next level of my education (a master's degree), what better blessing than to chance upon the one teacher who embodied the joy and enthusiasm of Science and Math, the spirit of education and the integrity of the Classroom?

Her energy during course delivery and her acute memory at remembering all our names - this for instant access to bombard us with rapid fire questions and keep us standing till we manage to answer atleast one right - was invigorating. She'd jumble names at times but no matter; the name she calls you with is yours till she wills so. We were at the edge of our seats throughout her lecture, alert and attentive, grasping every word, every formula she'd spell. She had her unique - and fast - way of drilling facts right into our very conscience! What was already a brilliant 12 years of schooling at my Alma Mater, was topped with Ma'am Radha being my class teacher in final year. After passing out of school, I had the good fortune of meeting her not more than 2-3 times.

Eight years later today, waiting outside that cabin, I was joyfully rehearsing a quick intro of myself- for she might've surely forgotten me by now? Bidding the Headmistress adieu cheerfully, she turned to exit the cabin. And seeing me, stopped right at the exit with joyous shock and exclaimed,

"Sameeha!!!!"

I was visually taken aback on hearing that and gasped back, "You remember my name!!"

"Sameeha Jahangir!!!!!" she piped still.

It was like being called out to receive an award! That was all I could take in marvelling at her super crisp memory and love. There was no depth left for the respect and gratitude I felt for her. She quickly caught up and had herself updated on my adventures post school. My plan of MS in Aerospace Engg delighted her endless! "NASA! There's NASA there! You must get in! The best place to be!!"  Saying this she turned to her newer fellow teacher and beamed,

"Brilliant student of my class. She."

Award delivered. With profuse wishes and blessings, she anointed me to face my future with determined pursuit.

There are many reasons to why I am who I am, and why I'm going where I'm going, but success I find, only in and due to, the ideals of idols like my beloved school teacher, Ma'am Radha.

Old Divide, still deep

We, my family, had been residing in dad's office quarters since the time I was born. All was convenient - nice neighbourhood, good convent schools, docs, infrastructure...everything external that makes an abode location perfect. Internal too. Beautiful Chembur. But it was always known, ofcourse, that it was temporary.

Dad started his house hunt pretty early. Himself having been new to Mumbai at the time, he managed to buy a flat in Pune when i was in kindergarten. Pune, then, was the next big thing. Mumbai, too expensive. Navi Mumbai, huh?

Soon enough, though, Mumbai grew on him, in him, and in us. So a few years after using the Pune flat as a vacation home, he started his hunt closer to Mumbai. Started with Ambernath (for some reason still unknown to me), and after a lotta flat trots and final selection, the broker beaming with pride, was taking us to the builder in an elevator. Still joyous about his commission-to-come, he beamed, "This place is just perfect (it was, really), all amenities, good society and best of all..(dropping his voice a tone lower and leaning closer to dad)..we don't sell any flats in this society to muslims!!" Oh the pride in his eyes for his beloved society's perfect rule! We were aghast! Politely refused the flat offer and left, without comment. He never ever did come to know we were muslims.

Many years, many hunts (mostly Navi Mumbai, yes it was in), and many such 'prefect rules' later, it was time for dad's retirement, 2 months back. There were multiple instances, where the broker/dealer either 'happily' (always happy and proud) claimed they don't sell to muslims "even if they pay us 3 crore for a 30 lakh flat!" or the builders/owners almost stopped short of sealing the deal when they heard dad's name. We don't look muslim, that is all the deception on our part. Post retirement, we're now living in Navi Mumbai on rent. Found and booked a flat just a month ago, its a majorly muslim area. Some owners here sell exclusively only to muslims, stating they are victims of previous refusals themselves.

I strongly oppose the reverse stance of 'selling only to muslims coz I was treated so', no 'treatment' justifies religious divide among citizens of the same country. Taking the guilty to court is also a bit far fetched what with builders these days being equipped with the underground, for all we know. But mostly, when one is hurt thus, by a fellow citizen who you take to be your kin, you are too moved inside to be able to stand up and fight. Too hurt. Too shocked. Too sad. Anger doesn't have a place, revenge is not an option, yearning to be understood, foremost.

Mom, hurt, would point out, "But we do have a flat in Pune, which is now really well developed as envisioned, so why don't we move there?? Why fight and hunt and get hurt here so much where they don't want us??!"

Why really? Because even if some part of the land won't own up to us, we've loved, and hence cannot leave.