At the best of times, teaching is an emotional profession. Mothers who would kill someone, anyone who touched a hair of their precious babies' heads, personally deliver weeping, wailing tots into the care of their teachers. Teachers who draw them into the class, sit them down, wipe the copious tears, and then proceed to console the next new entrant. If you want to study human nature at its most nascent, there is no better place than a classroom.
She had huge eyes. The first thing that struck you about her. The eyelashes were long and curling, the eyes black, setting into relief her fair skin. When filled with tears, you instinctively lifted her up and consoled her, hugging her close. Her heart break would break the most hardened of hearts. The smile when it emerged from behind the tear streaked face lit it up. The laughter rose from deep inside her, the chuckle bringing an involuntary smile to your face. She was Marium, and i was so in love with her.
I was a reluctant teacher. A helper actually, biding the time between board exams and college. I was at the stage where i pitied the harried mothers, who parted with their tots and left, a paradoxical mix of reluctance and relief in their demeanour. Collectively miserable, the fright at being left, abandoned by otherwise doting mothers to the mercy of strange adults and weepy peers was palpable. Each child would steal a look at her/ his neighbour then set up their own wails. That was what was so different about Marium. She looked slight and vulnerable, but after a while, she sat holding her neighbours hand. Soon the boy was quiet too. There they sat amidst a mob of wailers, holding onto each other and sitting quietly.
The collective. Were children so different from adults ? There was the attention seeker. He was a small fellow, but the bravado was kingsize. He would tell tales or talk, jump up constantly, seeking attention from adults and kids alike. There was the Queen. She was tall and disdainful of the rest. The queen, who ordered the rest to do her bidding. Who ate from others tiffin boxes, and was the leader in all the games. There was the nerd who excelled at numbers, the artist who drew like a dream. There was the actor, who hammed and cartwheeled his way into his friends hearts. Then there were the ones who followed faithfully. They looked with awe at the Queeen and formed a loyal coterie. In return for which, she fought their battles and allowed them to tag after her. The bully of the class, was in a different class altogether. He was strong and wiley. He was the 'hero' types who made fun of the those weaker then him, and preened before the giggling girls. And then there was Marium.
Marium stayed aloof. She would play with the others, only when they let her. Mostly she would sit and draw or sing softly to herself. She would not kowtow to anyone. The queen, specially, never missed an oppurtunity to push her away, or snatch her tiffin, backed by her coterie. The hurt on her face was obvious, but she would retreat rather than put up a fight. Was my Marium a coward ? I cringed at the thought, and had to repress strongly the urge to fight her battles for her. If she didn't fight back, if she martyred herself time and again, how would she ever survive in this dog eat dog world, I worried. As a teacher, i couldn't play favorites, but i did anyway. I reprimanded the queen and retrieved her tiffin many a times. It was the pencil incident that rankled the most, however. Everyday the children were supposed to bring three pencils to school. Everyday Marium would happily part with hers to the ones who had forgotten theirs, or those who borrowed them from her, then claimed ownership. Even when asked if the pencils were hers, she would study the glaring child in front of her, then shake her head and retreat. Teachers were not allowed to intervene. I hated seeing her defeated thus everyday. Surreptiously, i even took her aside and beseeched her to stand up for her rights. She looked at me with her liquid eyes, then nodded sweetly, before surrendering her pencils again the next day.
That day, the bully was sitting next to her. Invariably every day, he got to her pencils mostly, today was different. Today it was Marium's birthday. Her wise mother had sent pencils for the entire class as a gift. After they had been distributed, the children settled down to draw. Out came the pencils. I was keeping a vigil on hers out of sure habit. Marium put hers on her desk, then leaned down to pick up an eraser she had dropped. In a flash, an outstretched arm snatched her pencil, so that when she straightened it was gone. The bully sat smirking at her, defiantly juggling her pencil with his. Before anyone could react, Marium pounced on him. She must have caught him by surprise, because the next minute, they were both on the floor, Marium Sitting on top of him, her pencil back in her hand. As he raised a hand to hit her, the children on either side of her pounced on him too. Mayhem erupted. Marium and the entire class versus the bully. As we teachers waded into the melee and restored order, a slightly bedraggled Marium, sat back on her seat, the pencil clutched tightly in her hand. I couldn't help but grin broadly. I didn't have to worry about her anymore. She would do fine in the world. Just fine.
Meanwhile from the next day onwards, her pencils stayed with her, until, generous child that she was she shared it willingly with the ones who politely asked her for one.
She had huge eyes. The first thing that struck you about her. The eyelashes were long and curling, the eyes black, setting into relief her fair skin. When filled with tears, you instinctively lifted her up and consoled her, hugging her close. Her heart break would break the most hardened of hearts. The smile when it emerged from behind the tear streaked face lit it up. The laughter rose from deep inside her, the chuckle bringing an involuntary smile to your face. She was Marium, and i was so in love with her.
I was a reluctant teacher. A helper actually, biding the time between board exams and college. I was at the stage where i pitied the harried mothers, who parted with their tots and left, a paradoxical mix of reluctance and relief in their demeanour. Collectively miserable, the fright at being left, abandoned by otherwise doting mothers to the mercy of strange adults and weepy peers was palpable. Each child would steal a look at her/ his neighbour then set up their own wails. That was what was so different about Marium. She looked slight and vulnerable, but after a while, she sat holding her neighbours hand. Soon the boy was quiet too. There they sat amidst a mob of wailers, holding onto each other and sitting quietly.
The collective. Were children so different from adults ? There was the attention seeker. He was a small fellow, but the bravado was kingsize. He would tell tales or talk, jump up constantly, seeking attention from adults and kids alike. There was the Queen. She was tall and disdainful of the rest. The queen, who ordered the rest to do her bidding. Who ate from others tiffin boxes, and was the leader in all the games. There was the nerd who excelled at numbers, the artist who drew like a dream. There was the actor, who hammed and cartwheeled his way into his friends hearts. Then there were the ones who followed faithfully. They looked with awe at the Queeen and formed a loyal coterie. In return for which, she fought their battles and allowed them to tag after her. The bully of the class, was in a different class altogether. He was strong and wiley. He was the 'hero' types who made fun of the those weaker then him, and preened before the giggling girls. And then there was Marium.
Marium stayed aloof. She would play with the others, only when they let her. Mostly she would sit and draw or sing softly to herself. She would not kowtow to anyone. The queen, specially, never missed an oppurtunity to push her away, or snatch her tiffin, backed by her coterie. The hurt on her face was obvious, but she would retreat rather than put up a fight. Was my Marium a coward ? I cringed at the thought, and had to repress strongly the urge to fight her battles for her. If she didn't fight back, if she martyred herself time and again, how would she ever survive in this dog eat dog world, I worried. As a teacher, i couldn't play favorites, but i did anyway. I reprimanded the queen and retrieved her tiffin many a times. It was the pencil incident that rankled the most, however. Everyday the children were supposed to bring three pencils to school. Everyday Marium would happily part with hers to the ones who had forgotten theirs, or those who borrowed them from her, then claimed ownership. Even when asked if the pencils were hers, she would study the glaring child in front of her, then shake her head and retreat. Teachers were not allowed to intervene. I hated seeing her defeated thus everyday. Surreptiously, i even took her aside and beseeched her to stand up for her rights. She looked at me with her liquid eyes, then nodded sweetly, before surrendering her pencils again the next day.
That day, the bully was sitting next to her. Invariably every day, he got to her pencils mostly, today was different. Today it was Marium's birthday. Her wise mother had sent pencils for the entire class as a gift. After they had been distributed, the children settled down to draw. Out came the pencils. I was keeping a vigil on hers out of sure habit. Marium put hers on her desk, then leaned down to pick up an eraser she had dropped. In a flash, an outstretched arm snatched her pencil, so that when she straightened it was gone. The bully sat smirking at her, defiantly juggling her pencil with his. Before anyone could react, Marium pounced on him. She must have caught him by surprise, because the next minute, they were both on the floor, Marium Sitting on top of him, her pencil back in her hand. As he raised a hand to hit her, the children on either side of her pounced on him too. Mayhem erupted. Marium and the entire class versus the bully. As we teachers waded into the melee and restored order, a slightly bedraggled Marium, sat back on her seat, the pencil clutched tightly in her hand. I couldn't help but grin broadly. I didn't have to worry about her anymore. She would do fine in the world. Just fine.
Meanwhile from the next day onwards, her pencils stayed with her, until, generous child that she was she shared it willingly with the ones who politely asked her for one.
That is truly my Mariam!
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