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Showing posts from March, 2016

The Years They Will Remember

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Akhil and Sahana with thatha. Akhil is in sixth grade. Sahana is in fourth grade. My own fourth grade feels like a blur, but I remember sixth grade quite well. Mrs. Vijayalakshmi was our class teacher. She was outstanding at teaching English. At BP Indian, grammar, punctuation, and the structure of a composition mattered. Some of my classmates had a natural flair for writing, and I loved reading how they put their thoughts on paper. I came third in class that year and received a merit prize. I still remember the books: Five Have a Wonderful Time by Enid Blyton and Grandmother’s Tale by R. K. Narayan. I still have my copy of Grandmother’s Tale . Inside is the school’s prize label: third rank, Class VI D, 1992–93, awarded to Subbarathinam—the name I went by then. My sixth-grade merit prize. I still have the book. ...
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The idea of it

I've wanted to do many things in life and at different stages.  Since education was enforced upon me at an early age, I really thought that my parents were doing a big disservice to me.  I would rebel.   Why should I study? Why can't I play all day? were questions I would pose to my parents.  In India, at least when I was growing up, I didn't have too many options.  First, you had to become an engineer and then figure out what you wanted to do in life.  Over a period of time, you realize that you had to do something with total dedication to pursue your interests.  I used to envy the cricketers.   Wow, they are doing something that they really like.  I wish I could be like them.  Then, one fine day, my friends and I decided that we will play everyday in the early mornings.  We followed rigorously for a day or two before one after the other started dropping out on some pretext or the other.  And then after some days, nobody...
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