Little butterfly takes wing

Little butterfly takes wing

December 2023

Little butterfly  takes wing 

You will warm up to this tale told by Ganesh  Pai, of the chemistry between his  daughter and her teacher, which led to the  child’s metamorphosis 

It was March 2020. The pandemic had spread,  and the lockdown had begun. The world was  cooped up within the confines of four walls. My  wife got a message from the school that lit up our  faces despite all the gloom surrounding us: they  would not conduct exams that year and promote all  kids to the next academic year. My wife and I were  more relieved than our nine-year-old daughter,  Vaishnavi, the reason being we would not have to  go through the ordeal of seeing her get poor marks  in mathematics. Vaishnavi had a troubled equation  with maths, and it was evident in the way she  solved maths problems (especially word problems,  which she hated). Nevertheless, the school wanted  the kids to attempt the exams at home. 

Maths and madness  

On a quiet morning, other than the occasional  humming of cuckoos in the nearby trees in the  kids’ play area, there was pin-drop silence in  our apartment complex. The stage was set for  an epic face-off between Vaishnavi and her  dreaded mathematics paper. My wife, Reshma,  set the timer and handed over the question  paper to Vaishnavi, after which she asked me  to watch over our daughter and then rushed to  the kitchen. So, it was Vaishnavi, mathematics,  me, and an unusual silence in our bedroom that  day.  

As Vaishnavi went through the question paper,  her face looked blank, much like the answer  paper. After going through it multiple times  and looking at the ceiling and her father (who  had taken his job as an invigilator rather too  seriously) from the corner of her eye, Vaishnavi  finally started putting pen to the answer paper.  After a few moments, I got up to glance at her  answer sheet. I was livid at what I saw: 1+1=11!  No father can feel proud looking at this answer,  especially if he is a chartered accountant. I  saw the other answers she had written, and  the situation was no different. I was getting  angry at her mistakes. I picked one wrong  answer and asked her how she arrived at the  solution. My intention was to help her realise  her mistake. She had no clue. I repeated my  question, this time louder. The child got scared  and kept mum. I started increasingly losing my  patience and, eventually, was see thing with  anger. Vaishnavi was silent and could not bear  to see me angry. Irritated by her silence, I hit  her on her back (one of those moments I am  not proud of myself). Vaishnavi got scared. I  repeated the question. (If she knew, she would  have answered the first time. But when you  are angry, how can you realise such profound  realities!) By then, I was hopping mad. Still  seeing her clueless, I started beating her again;  I was acting like a man possessed and went on  

Reshma rushed in and, with one look, she knew what  had transpired. She immediately hugged Vaishnavi. The  child felt as though she was rescued from a monster. I  hung my head in shame. I could not bear to see Reshma  or Vaishnavi. Reshma immediately gave some water to  Vaishnavi and, while consoling her, told me she would  handle it from there on. beating her. The child resisted at first. But she  stood no chance against this beast. A point came  when I felt pain in my hand, but Vaishnavi was  not reacting. Tears flowed from those big eyes out  of pain and fear, and my hand marks were visible  on her fragile body. (Even to date, I cringe when  I remember it.) Then, all of a sudden, she started  to have difficulty breathing. Unable to talk, she  barely managed to say, “Papa, please stop.” Now  it was my turn to get scared. I stopped. But I did  not know how to handle this. I called Reshma  immediately. 

Reshma rushed in and, with one look, she  knew what had transpired. She immediately  hugged Vaishnavi. The child felt as though she  was rescued from a monster. I hung my head  in shame. I could not bear to see Reshma or  Vaishnavi. Reshma immediately gave some  water to Vaishnavi and, while consoling her,  told me she would handle it from there on. I left  the scene completely ashamed of myself. That  night passed in repenting for my action. But the  damage was done. The next day, Vaishnavi had  forgotten the incident and was her loving self.  But I knew I had let myself down. (I still wish I  could undo this one incident.)  

Status quo continues 

Vaishnavi entered the fourth standard, but  nothing changed. Her woes with mathematics  continued, and online classes were not helping  both children and parents. I attempted to teach  once or twice, but seeing her tepid response, I  gave up. And I was once bitten twice shy anyway.  Next year, she moved on to the fifth standard.  However, the situation remained the same. Not  that she would do badly, but her performance  was still lacklustre. 

When she entered the sixth standard, the kids  were back to school. The first few months flew  like days. I started noticing that there was a  difference in the way she studied, spoke, and  walked. There was a sparkle in her eyes, and  confidence was visible in her strides. It was  time for the first parent-teacher meeting (PTM  as it’s called). A few days before that, Vaishnavi  would keep telling me, “Papa, you should meet  my Chaitra Ma’am.” I found it a little strange.  Why is a child so keen that her parents meet  her class teacher?  

One Saturday morning, we entered the VI-C  classroom on the first floor, where two parents  were already seated. We all sat in the second row  on a wooden bench. After waiting for 15 minutes,  our turn came. We greeted Chaitra Ma’am, not  knowing what was coming our way. Chaitra  Ma’am said, “Sir and Madam, I have nothing  to say about your daughter.” We thought, Oh  no! I asked, “Madam, is there anything wrong  with our daughter?” Chaitra Ma’am replied,  “Sir, your daughter is an excellent student.  She is my go-to child whenever I am expecting  answers to my questions. You should look at the  way she forms her sentences and the deadpan  confidence with which she answers.” Reshma  and I were now clueless. We thought for a  moment the teacher was talking about some  other student. Then she said, “Sir, only one  thing: she sometimes feels sleepy in the first  class of the morning. What time does she go to  bed?” Now we knew she was talking about our  daughter. Reshma cleverly used this opening to  vent her frustration and said, “Ma’am, she does  not go to bed early. And it’s not easy to wake her  up either.” Chaitra Ma’am gently told Vaishnavi  to sleep early and report her sleep time in the  next PTM. The child happily nodded her head.  

Chaitra Ma’am—a channel of love Things became apparent, and we realised the  cause of Vaishnavi’s 360-degree transformation.  The teacher-student chemistry had clicked.  Chaitra Ma’am was instrumental in bringing to  the surface the potential that Vaishnavi always  had and which we were oblivious to. Chaitra  Ma’am had given enough love and attention  to Vaishnavi, which had helped her confidence  soar sky-high.  

Now Vaishnavi was a different kid. She was  focussed on achieving academic brilliance.  With each test, we could see her climb up the  leaderboard, and in the third unit test, she  was one of the top three students. And it was  no secret that she was eyeing for the academics  leader badge. The competition was intense, but  Vaishnavi was leaving no stone unturned to  grab the coveted badge. She would stay up late,  

The right teacher was able to bring out Vaishnavi’s interest in studies, especially maths. 

Now Vaishnavi was a different kid. She was focussed  on achieving academic brilliance. With each test, we  could see her climb up the leaderboard, and in the  third unit test, she was one of the top three students.  And it was no secret that she was eyeing for the  academics leader badge. and we had to plead with her to go to bed. But  she would not relent. We were stunned by this  transformation. 

Finally, the results were out. All her efforts  had paid off. Vaishnavi was a joint topper and  had earned the academic leader badge. I still  remember Vaishnavi wearing the badge on her  uniform the next day, smiling ear to ear.  

Leader for life 

It was time for one more PTM, the last for the  sixth standard. This time, both teacher and  student were beaming with happiness. I had  no words to express myself and was incredibly  proud of Vaishnavi’s academic progress. As  a courtesy, I asked, “Ma’am, anything we  

should do about Vaishnavi?” Before I could  even complete my sentence, pat came her  reply, “Sir, please do not worry about your  daughter. Whatever she does in life, she will  be successful.” I was speechless. Chaitra  Ma’am’s words had come from the depth of her  conviction about her student’s potential. I just  said a thank you, which did not do justice to my  gratitude towards the teacher.  

As I walked down the stairs holding Vaishnavi’s  hand, with Chaitra Ma’am’s words still echoing  in my ears, I said a silent prayer in my heart:  Let every child find its flow. 

Let every child find a Chaitra Ma’am. Let every parent allow the child to blossom on  its own. 

Ganesh Pai is a senior finance professional, currently working in a deep tech start-up. Ganesh believes in leading a holistic life - aspiring for mate rialistic abundance while being spiritually rooted.