While clearing up Anjali's room I made a pile of her books from school - dozens of text books and note books with many subjects, concepts, theories, exercises, problems solved, answers written, experiments conducted. As I flipped through the books I was struck with wonder at how much she had studied, learned all on her own. I do not remember any instance when she approached me for help or when I felt the need to offer her help. Save small requests to ask her questions or minor doubts in Telugu, she never asked me anything (which was perhaps good in the long run because she did a good job by herself).
I remember how I was a cause for concern for my father with my falling grades after moving to Hyderabad. I would top the class before that and somehow lost my mojo after moving - Dad would worriedly take me to tuitions, coaching classes - but you can only take a horse to water.
I did not drink. I drank only as much as I needed to.
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| Book piles |
Looking back i wonder how worried my father might have been in those years. And then I looked at what Anjali had done by herself.
It did amaze me though at how she went about it. I could not help but write a note to her on how impressed I was with her work ethic. Least I could do.
The text books went to Daksha school which distributes the old books to government school children and the note books and their empty pages went to the colony watchman Raju's young kids to practice their maths.
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