I had been an average student until my tenth grade when all hell broke loose. Everyone around me was going berserk trying to impress upon me how crucial that year was going to be in my life. The lie that we were all told as kids which in no way is going to stop us from telling it to our kids as well. Something had definitely changed in me even before I moved into my class 10. I still remember vividly when I woke up at 2 AM in the morning to prep for my Physics exam in the 9th grade. For the record that was the first time I took a power nap in my life because by 7 AM I had a throbbing headache. This was only a precursor to the pressure cooker years that lay ahead of me. Now coming back to my 10 th grade. The first term exam was over and we were getting our graded answer scripts back. I was cruising my way towards my first ever distinction(80%) . It was not smooth sailing all the way. There were speed bumps which included my pathetic marks in Maths. But that didn’t stop me, I had scored a near cent percent in my History,Geography and scored heavily in my language papers.This was my first lesson on maximising my strengths and minimising my weaknesses.By some twist of fate, it all boiled down to the last Malayalam supplementary paper where I had to only score 37/50 to reach the magical mark. It was a difficult proposition but achievable I felt. Let me be frank with you my hopes were sky high when it came to achieving the milestone.
At some point of time all of us would have imagined receiving the Oscar and delivering the acceptance speech. For me I had already started visualising as to what I would do when my Malayalam marks would be announced. I would pump my fists in the air in jubilation a.k.a my sporting hero Sachin Tendulkar who would do the same when he got a wicket . I had played and replayed the scene so many times in my mind that it was now muscle memory.
Finally the D-day arrived, Mr Anil Kumar came in with the papers. The tension was palpable, the air around me was getting heavy and I couldn’t breathe. He read my name and announced my marks. Time froze for a moment as my heart skipped a beat.Quite often you yearn to hear something and choose to hear selectively as to what you want to hear. I was immobile for a moment because my heart was telling me something diametrically opposite to what my brain was processing at that very moment.For a split second I was torn between the two and I got suspended from reality.My world came crashing down around me.I had failed to make the cut by a mere 10 marks.My name was called again, my neighbor the effervescent Jose Mathew patted my shoulder in consolation and nudged me. We were seated on the last bench at that point of time. Even today I can very much feel the angst in the pit of my stomach when I recount my walk of ‘shame’ to collect my answer scripts. It is hard to even imagine my state of mind at that point of time if this can have such an effect on me even after 2 decades.With a heavy heart, I trudged back to my seat, Jose Mathew gave me a hug to reassure me that this was not the end of the world, God bless him.
In a parallel universe during my Sunday school, this ‘walk’ was repeated but with a totally different outcome.It so happened that in the past 5 years since I joined the St Anne’s Church, Trivandrum I have never topped the exams. They were always reserved for 2 girls of the class and I would always rear end them. As a matter of fact this went on for a few years until I gave up. On a lazy Sunday morning I was preoccupied with what had happened in school the previous week. The thought of missing out on my much coveted milestone was weighing down heavily on my heart . I was barely paying attention when my first semester marks were being announced in class. I was bemused to note that my marks were greeted with applause as I walked in to collect the paper. At that point of time I was thinking to myself that I would save the theatrics for until the marks of the erstwhile toppers were declared. But it turned out that I had breached the citadel and ended up being the topper. Further, I went on to write the Archdiocese exam only meant for the toppers of every class of our church. Incidentally my wife also was there to write that very exam representing our church . But that is another story ,I have written about it in another blog post of mine(Memories #5-How I Met your Mother).
Right at the onset of my term 2 exam, thanks to my crappy grades in Maths a distinction was out of the window. At the end of it I was dumbfounded when I discovered that I was only 7 shy of the magical mark. As always Social Studies and language papers had done some heavy lifting but at the end it was not good enough to get me over the line. The heartbreak was a lot lesser this time around since I had toughened up after the first instance.
Hardly 3 months to go for the boards, I had a lot to ponder upon with regards to the reasons as to why the forbidden fruit had slipped out of my reach for the second time in a row. I did the first ever Root cause analysis (RCA) in my life. The writing was loud and clear on the wall. There is a limit to which I can maximise my strengths,I couldn’t continue to ignore my weakness. I had to put in a lot of effort in Maths to dig myself out of this well. I decided to take the bull by its horns and give it my all to tackle the situation. What followed was one of the most focussed and disciplined epochs of my life. Day in day out every day until the board exam I used to spend at least 2 hours in Maths even if it meant that I didn’t get a chance to study anything else on that very day. This would have been the first time that I pulled out a rabbit out of the hat. This focussed and disciplined approach came in quite handy later in life while I was preparing for the UPSC Civil Services in Delhi a few years down the line. I might not remember how much I scored in the Maths exam during my 10th boards but I very well remember what it took to get there. I just checked the scanned copy of my tenth mark list and for the record it is 95/100.
It didn’t end there,I went on to score 92% in my tenth boards.I was just 5 short of being the topper of the class. Quite often in life I have pondered upon as to how cool it would have been to get those 5 odd marks. I could have gotten my name inscribed in the Roll of Honour at the hallowed halls of my alma mater Loyola School, Trivandrum. When I look back now I think that getting my name on that wall would have accounted for an ordinary story. One day I will tell my kid the story of the underdog who went on to slay a lot of dragons in his life with sheer grit and determination,drawing upon the lessons learnt in that very year.
If you liked this check out a similar blog post of mine Hit or Miss
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