JAYA MA'AM'S BLOG

                           From Rebellion to Reflection: Becoming My Father’s Daughter As a 13-year-old, the only person I wanted to impress was you. Today, 13 years after you are gone, I still seek your approval in my mind. Professo r (38 years in St. Paul’s, Calcutta; 5 years in Presidency College, Calcutta) Writer (Syndicated column in Jansatta every Sunday till your death for God knows how many years) Politician (General Secretary, Calcutta North, Communist Party of India) These were your worldly achievements—not a mean feat for a boy who left his small village near Unnao in Kanpur at the age of 14. An orator par excellence, the world listened when you spoke. They listened because you were a master storyteller, able to draw deep insights from any incident and weave them into captivating narratives. As a human being, if I had to use one word to describe you, it would be “trusting”—to the po...

                                                                                                THE RIGHT TO BE WRONG   It is a truth universally acknowledged that one tends to blindly love one’s siblings' children more than one’s own. Only the spoiling part falls under your domain; the rod-yielding is none of your concern. So, being Tanish’s Mimi is the one role I absolutely love playing. Like most mothers, my sister’s major worry has always been, “Tanish, sahi decision nahin le pata.” Over the years, I have realized that correct decision-making does not come from guidance but from experience. A child learns to choose wisely only when given the freedo...

  SOCCER MOMS Aadi played football. Mir did too. They needed to be in the football field at sometimes 5 in the morning and sometimes 5 in the evening. Harpreet would be there to drop her 10 year old Mir and I was obviously the designated driver to the son’s sporting activities. As we sat watching our kids play football, a bond was formed between us. Ferrying the budding footballer did not seem to be a chore.After all, I would get a chance to catch up with the Sardarni. Ms. Harpreet Chatha is everything I am not. Organised, meticulous and kind to a fault. She can ruffle up a lip smacking cake in a jiffy while even thinking of cooking is something which can cause palpitations in my heart. She can be trusted to be there if anyone needs her. She would always tell me,” Keep your trap shut ” while I kept harping ,” Express yourself.” I learnt from her the colour scheme of sofas,laces for dupattas and unconditional kindness and I have yet to learnt from her the "craft of presentation....

  Ritu Mam-One Adjective to describe her (Ms.Outspoken). Never known to mince her words. Was really privileged to work as a new joinee teacher under Ms.Ritu Bali,HOD (English) in DPS. We used to have two FMs (Faculty Meetings) from 2-3. Normally even a 5 minute overstay in school drains me. But English Department’s FMs on Mondays and Tuesdays were something I absolutely looked forward to. The reason -Ritu Mam’s vivacious energy . Not for a moment would a newcomer feel a disconnect. However, she was always a tough taskmaster. My first question paper came back looking like a crime scene—red marks everywhere! Yet, she never made me feel small. Four years later, her red pen had retired, and I had learned to be perfect (almost).  Her leadership was not limited to academics alone . With her as HOD , we were living life queen sizes. English Department was always into the celebration zone-birthdays, anniversaries, confirmations and promotions . Over the years , we have kept in...