Having been bitching too much about life of late, I began to wonder if there was anyone I wouldn’t be complaining about. The list was indeed short (very short) - and to my surprise I found myself listing Mr. Vishveswara Rao’s name. And then I began to wonder if I had ever thanked him enough for all the things he had done to me – for the change he had brought about in me. That led to another series of thoughts – have I ever thanked any of those that had made it to the list? Or have I ever done anything for them as a token of appreciation? And before I digress further, here is a short tribute to the man who’d driven away the fear of Math from my mind, who’d taught me to believe in my abilities and have faith in myself when everything was falling apart and everyone was against me. Not that he had lectured me about all these things, about the ways of life – the only meetings were in the Math class and in the tuitions after college. Come to think of it, his classes were one of the very few things in life that I’d always looked forward to. I’d wait to get lost in the world of trigonometry, calculus, differentials, integrals (who’d forget the third integral?) – I wish I’d put better use to all the things he’d taught me (rather than sitting before a computer and writing reams of meaningless code). Who could forget his anger – I’d shudder when I saw him hit those ‘tough’ guys in class – they’d look so meek before him!! Fortunately I was always spared from his angry moods – and how could I forget his flirting with the girls – one dumb answer from one of them and she’d immediately become a ‘cheeku lakshmi’ (have always wondered what that meant, sometimes wondered if that was something derogatory, but could never attribute such a thing to someone like him). The evening tuitions were something I’d always cherish – besides the wonderful classes, I’d also get to see some good girls ;-)!!!
I’d never met him after college – I’ve always wondered why I never had the courage to step into the college and walk into the principal’s room to meet him. He’d always spoken well about me, helped me, and yet there was some kind of fear that had always stopped me. The last I heard about him he had some trouble with his heart (talk about ironies of life – someone that I’d always thought had a mighty heart) and had to give up his rights over the college in the face of increasing commercialism and competition. I wish I’d met him the last time I was in
