School Union

Gentleman Makar. That is what his group of friends called him for he was a thorough gentle man. Soft spoken, always ready to help others at the drop of a hat, never holding any grudges, not even a scent of anger emancipated from him. 65-year-old Makar was well known yet an unknown entity amongst his peers and friends. Barely anybody knew about his personal life. He preferred his own company, never sharing his troubles / views with anyone. He liked to mind his own business and avoided unhealthy gossips.

Makar and his group of senior citizens were looking forward to 5th September. Teachers Day. The group had planned to meet their school teachers and provide an appreciation. They would be meeting them after half a century, since the time they left high school. There was a lot of discussion on the good ole school days. How the teachers treated them firmly but fairly. The cordial and parent like relationship they had with their teachers. Each one providing his part of the story, recollecting the days of yore.

The group of 7, decided to meet early on 5th September. They wanted to visit at least 7 teachers. Each one choosing their favorite teacher. There was not an iota of doubt whom Makar would choose. He chose his beloved class teacher, Mrs. Minaxi. He adored her. They shared a mother-son bonding while he was at high school. Their magnificent camaraderie envied his classmates. Makar was by far the brightest and the most helpful of all the students. Mrs. Minaxi would entrust Makar with most jobs and he would happily offer his assistance and complete them with perfect synergies.

As Makar was getting dressed for the occasion, he curiously looked through the school year book. There was a group photo of the entire class, the last day of school, the farewell day. Memories came flooding back. Painful ones always triumph the happy ones. Tears flooded Makar. He began to sob uncontrollably. Suddenly, the appetite to meet and greet his beloved teachers, vanquished. He looked back at his life and the winds of regret took centerstage. Destiny had played a cruel hand and landed knockout punches from which he was never able to recover.

Makar was a 15-year-old bright, soft-spoken boy at school. He ranked among the top 3 students in his class. He would help out his fellow classmates with their studies. His teachers would adore him for his etiquette, well behaved mannerisms and his attention to details. While Makar respected and loved his teachers, he was in particular impressed and loved the classes taken by his class teacher Mrs. Minaxi. His alertness levels intensified during her classes and would never miss a single word spoken by her. Mrs. Minaxi also loved Makar dearly and treated him like her own son. Makar’s classmates envied the duo’s solidarity.

On the eve of 10th standard exams, as the school was wrapping up the last few classes, Mrs. Minaxi wished Makar and his classmates to do their best. She had very high hopes on them. She was sad they would not meet again, as all of them would move to Higher Secondary next year at different colleges. She separately wished Makar, put arms around his shoulder and encouraged him to work hard and due diligently. Honesty, determination and commitment would make him successful. Makar was inspired by his favorite teachers’ words and promised to strive hard to achieve his dream of being a doctor someday. Tearful adieus were bid on the farewell day.

A day before the exam, Makar was deeply engrossed in his studies. Tomorrow was his favorite teachers’ subject, Science. He was wildly expected to breeze through this subject. His 75-year-old grand-mother with a bent posture, knocked at the door of his study room. She silently walked in, with puffed face and teary eyes. She sat next to Markar and put her arms around him. And then she cried…

Makar’s mother had been hit by a speeding vehicle while she was crossing the road. The impact was severe causing death on the spot. When the news was broken to Makar, he was devastated. His world came crashing down. He deeply loved and respected his mother. Makar was the sole child and her world centered around him. His mother’s death shattered Makar. He was numb. The exams seemed irrelevant anymore. His loss was irreparable. His Father and grandma tried to console him, but Makar was broken inside. Quietness engulfed the soft-spoken Makar.

Father pushed him to answer his exams, which Makar protested vehemently. But, finally agreed and listlessly attended the exams. He sulked and cried day and night. Besieged by depression, Makar flunked his exams. His Grandmother died a year later bowing to multiple diseases. With father in tow, Makar, after a year’s gap finally managed to pass matriculation. With below than average grades, Makar could not find his way into science field and his doctor’s dreams lay in the wake. Impassively, Makar had heralded from college life to the real world.

After vocational graduation, just as Makar was setting himself up for a job through his father’s contact, destiny was hideously going to test him once again. Father was diagnosed with a cancerous tumor and doctors only gave a few months. Makar’s last lifeline hit road bumps. Just when he believed he was coming out of the shadows from his mother’s death, fate played a cruel hand and would render him an orphan. As father hit bed, Makar helplessly watched him die each day. After 4 months of jostling for life, he breathed his last. Makar was devastated. He was left alone in the world at the tender age of 21. The world did not endear him anymore. He was an orphan at a young age, clueless and directionless. Relatives nefariously yanked his father’s property and literally threw Makar out of his own house. The world had disowned him.

With a desperate need to find a source of income for survival and a place to stay, Makar barely had time to grieve his father’s demise. Looking at his plight a local welder hired him on a temporary basis. Makar was never cut out for the heavy lifting. He tried his best to fit in, but failed miserably. There were few weak moments where bouts of depression overwhelmed him. Suicide crossed his mind several times.

The welders job never worked and after toiling for a year, Makar was asked to leave as the messes and losses went up significantly. Few months later, he found a job as a mechanic. After lucklessly plying his trade, he switched job, multiple times. As a sales executive at a local apparel shop, as a compounder at a clinic, as a clerk in office etc. Never could he settle in any of the jobs, however best he tried to fit in.

Years later, he managed to work and stick to, at the cash counter of a retail store. As he was waiting on the next customer, he heard someone shout out his name. Makar looked around.

Siddharth shouted: “Hey, is that Makar?”
Makar, surprised: “Why? Yes, sir, that is me. But, I’m sorry, I cannot recognize you.”
Siddharth, excitedly: “I cannot believe this. What on earth are you doing here? And all this while I believed you are roaming around the world. Jeez, it has been decades. Of course, you would not recognize me with all the beard. It is Siddharth. Sid yaar, from School. Remember?”
Perplexed, Makar stared hard: “Ahh, yes. Now I can. Hey Sid, long time. How are you? Hope all is well with you and your family. It really has been almost 30 years I presume since we last met.”
Siddharth: “Oh yes, 32 years to be exact. So glad to meet you. We should meet more often now. Please provide me your number. I will also get you to meet other school mates, who are living around the city. This should be a lot of fun.”
Siddharth was astounded to see the plight of bright-eyed Makar working at a retail store, when all his classmates were cent percent sure that he would reach great heights in his carrier.

Makar met his other school mates, who were just as glad to see him. Listening to Makar’s hardship and the atrocities he faced, brought tears to their eyes. It was only a miracle that he was standing before them, when all he wanted to be was at the bottom of the river bed.

Jolting back to the present, he remembered his promise of being a doctor to his class teacher. He had failed miserably. He could not face her. He looked at the profile of his group of friends and he stood nowhere near them. They were all successful in their lives. Two of them were holding Vice-Presidential post at their reputed companies. 3 others owned businesses that was thriving. Another was a Banker. Makar felt inferior to his friends. He had contemplated the social divide and never felt comfortable within the group. His failures in professional carrier notwithstanding the mental scars made him feel mediocre.

Makar’s career never took off to the heights his teacher expected. As he looked back, he regretted his rotten luck which deserted him time and again right from the day of his mother’s death. Mrs. Minaxi would have expected nothing short of a doctorate from him. Makar envisioned; she would be greatly disappointed in him. Makar, the famed and promising student with the world at his feet, who confided in his teacher of aspiring to be a doctor, was now working at a cash counter of a local retail store. His lanky frame shuddered at the thought of meeting his teacher. He reeked of failure. The pang of guilt hit Makar hard on the face. He felt embarrassed and deciphered he could not show his face of failure to his beloved teacher.

Tormented, he called in sick with his friends and cancelled the meeting with the teacher’s. His friends tried to convince him, but Makar refused to budge. As the plans were already in place, the friends proceeded to meet their teachers.

Few days later as Makar received a call, just as he was leaving his shift from the retail store. A distressed voice was at the other end.
Caller, shakily: “Hello Makar? How are you?”
Makar, straining his ears: “Hello. Who is this? I cannot hear properly.”
Caller: “Makar, this is Mrs. Minaxi.”
Makar: “Mrs. Minaxi, who?”
Mrs. Minaxi: “Your School Teacher. Do you remember me?”
Makar was dumbfounded. He went speechless. Tears streamed his eyes. Was it really his school teacher?
Mrs. Minaxi: “Hello Makar. Can you hear me?”
After an eternity, Makar finally found the courage to answer.
Makar, now sobbing: “Hello Ma’am. How are you? I’m, really sorry that I could not recognize your voice.”
Mrs. Minaxi: “No problem, Makar. Your friends came to meet me the other day. They told me about you. I wished you would have also come to see me. I’m very old and cannot move much.”
Makar, now sobbing hard: “I’m sorry ma’am. I would have loved to come, but was not feeling too well. Day after tomorrow, on Sunday, I promise to come and meet you.”
Mrs. Minaxi (Smiling now): “That would be really wonderful. I look forward to our meeting.”

That night Makar hardly slept. He was feeling excited. Mrs. Minaxi had remembered him and taken the trouble of calling him and asked to meet. It was by far the best moment in his life till date after his mother’s death. Throwing away all the inferior inhibitions he felt, he decided to meet his teacher with renewed vigor. Sunday could not come any sooner for Makar. He discussed the call from teacher with Siddharth and his plans to visit her on Sunday.

Saturday at the store was pretty busy, but Makar still found time to reminisce about the school days and especially his school teacher. It was foolish of him to cancel his meeting the other day. Nevertheless, he would make up for it tomorrow. He would chat for hours together with his beloved teacher. She would surely understand why he had to cancel the meeting. They would happily relive the past memories.

Sunday morning, he was up early. The excitement was palpable. He was back to being a sweet 16-year-old boy. Makar dressed in a vibrant shirt. He wanted to put his best foot forward, just like the school days. As he was about to leave his home, he received a call from Siddharth.

Siddharth: “Good morning, Makar. Already up?”
Makar: “Good morning, Sid. Oh yes, I’m all ready to visit Mrs. Minaxi. Cannot wait to see my wonderful teacher.”
Siddharth: “Oh ok. Where are you?”
Makar: “Just about to leave my house. Why? What happened?”
Siddharth: “Listen, I just got news, really bad. Mrs. Minaxi suffered a massive cardiac arrest last night and breathed her last.”
Breath clutched midway through to his lungs, Makar cut the call and silently fell. Fate had played with him all over again. If only he had grabbed the opportunity and met his teacher once. If only he had banished his reservations and held his teacher’s hands. She would have probably understood his plight. He badly wished he could have met her once and seek her blessings. Alas, Makar never got that chance.