I am sorry, I sold your Bhagwat Gita

Dear Sir,

I had read somewhere: Life is stranger than fiction. I realised it today.

I am sure you remember me taking your book of Bhagwat Gita from you. It has been a long time and I have come far away. I couldn't return the book to you; now I am writing to tell ‘I am sorry I cannot return it anymore. I sold your Bhagwat Gita.’

The stomach proved itself to be more powerful than anything else in life. After losing everything in life, I was only left only with that book to sell to fulfill my stomach’s hunger. Even today, all the 37 plays of Shakespeare are on the tip of my tongue. But fortitude of Juliet, thoughts and revenge of Hamlet, blindness caused by love to Antonio - none of the characters in those plays could teach me the lessons better than my own stomach did. I sold your Bhagwat Gita.

People say Bhagwat Gita leads life. That’s true for me, at least now, by providing food for one time and 10 paise to buy this letter and post it to you. I cannot return your Bhagwat Gita. I sold it. I’m grateful to you. Forgive me if you can.

No more yours faithfully,

Mr. Iyer

This is a three liner incident shared by my father to me about his colleague-teacher(I just wrote it in my own words). It’s not about losing Bhagwat Gita that my father had got as a prize, it’s not about sense of repentance in the letter, it’s not even about adversities of life; what amazes me is the way my father shared his own life’s experiences to shape our lives (children and students).

My father taught English and Math at school, simplicity at home and honesty at both school and home. By the time I was in third standard, my father started telling about Bismark and his unification of Germany. As I grew up, I was told so many stories about Abhimanyu and the way he fought in Chakravyuha, about honesty of Shasthri, guilt of Gandhi, words of Vivekananda, Shakespeare’s Cleopatra .. so on. I had not seen some of them even in photos. So I could just imagine in my own way. Did Bismark have beard? Was Abhimanyu tall? Was Cleopatra short? – who cares! I created them in my own way. Without my knowledge, my father had led me to the land of imaginations.

At school, math was such an interesting subject to learn as my father ‘personified’ even the mundane concepts. The numbers ‘jumped’ the ‘=’ symbol and changed their signs, when numerator was ‘kicked’ to the other side of the ‘=’ symbol, it fell down and became denominator. While teaching voices in English, the active ‘subject’ got throat infection and its voice became ‘passive’. What an amazing teacher my father is!

Honesty was not just taught; it was demonstrated. Although the question papers were framed at home, my father never showed them to me before the exam. So many times I stood second or third in the same exams. I learn that being in the first position is so boring and marks the end of the achievement. It’s the other positions that drive us forward, that help us discover our shortage and fill the bucket.

Some of the best lessons that I have learnt from my father which may not have made me successful, but which make me happy are: One, you are powerful not when you have the weapon, but when you don’t use it unnecessarily. Two, do not measure the success by numbers – either on your marks cards or in your bank account, measure it with the approval of your conscience for the works you do. Three, remain humble, even when you have power; honest, even when you know that costs a lot; happy, even when we do not have everything we desire.

A few years ago, a cardiologist, after conducting angiogram, a diagnostic test called me to his chamber, showed the report and said ‘your father’s heart is good’. I just thought, it’s because ‘my father is good at heart’.

My learning process continues, getting inspiration continues and being shamelessly in the receiving end continues from my father.