Oops!!!
Did I just say that? But then being a dabba in Maths, I believe, this is the most apt and most
honest word that describes my feelings
towards the subject, SERIOUSLY. My Maths papers were always dripping with blood marks,
sorry red marks, so much so that if you squeeze it, you’ll get enough red to
fill an IV bottle.
Hmm…Did you say, I am exaggerating? Huh! You
should have seen my answer sheets.
On
hindsight, Maths periods in school were ultra-devastating. The sight of the
teacher in itself gave me heartburns, because I knew, once again, I would have
no answer to her volley of stupid questions. In fact, i cherished those days when she was
absent - haash chalo aaj jaan chutti.
However, I believe, despite my huge dislike
for Math, I might have hated this subject a little less, had my
Maths teacher being a little less serious-minded. (She was a devil in angels clothing.) When she knew that
three-fourths of the class is weak in Maths, instead of throwing her weight
around, she could’ve helped us by being friendly and innovating new methods of
teaching us. But no, she thought she was right in being stern and serious and
it was our fault and fault in our stars if we were not doing well in Maths. (Perhaps, she took pride in the fact, that
only the best and brightest could clear her question papers.)
Damnit!!!
How could she find fault with students when all that she did was scribble some
formulas on the board and then go blah…blah…blah…about them. Hello mam!!!This
is something that even a kid from 12th standard could do. Being a
teacher, that too a Maths teacher, you should’ve been more careful and devised
ways that made Maths seem less devious and easy to understand. But no, you struck to your conventional methods
and made life hell for us kids.
And
yes, only my father knew how to put you in place during those PTA meetings. Was
he not right in arguing with you, when he said, (no he shouted from rooftops
for the entire school to hear), that when his kid could score good, better and
average marks in rest of the subjects, how come she always failed in Maths. So,
there was something wrong with the teacher and not the student. Of course, the
Maths teacher used to go numb and dumb in front of my father. She had no right answers to my father’s
relevant questions. Sadly, only when my father’s voice boomed across our school corridors, were the only times she
realized that probably she could do something to help me do better. But the
next day, she was her usual self, ranting out formulas to the board. Hmmm…some
people never change.
***
Tenth
standard prelims were just over. The teacher had summoned my father once again.
Of course, there was no change in my Maths marks. AGGRRRRRR…SHE HAD LITERALLY
PAINTED MY PAPER IN RED.
Who
will talk down whom was the big question in my mind now? Will my father be the
winner as usual, or my Maths teacher will have an upper hand.
Ohmigod…You
won’t believe this.
For
the first time in my schooling years, the Maths teacher and father spoke
cordially. It was literally a bolt from the blue for me then. In face, all their seriousness had been swept off in thin air. My Maths teacher was in a jolly good mood and told my father that she had set the paper
really tough, so all the red marks mean nothing. And since, I was able to reach the border line I am quite capable of scoring far more and better in the
boards.
Her words seemed unbelievable to my ears. I stood there...simply stunned.