THE SIGNATURE
SWEETLIN
No part of this book can be reproduced or utilized in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical including photocopying, recording or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the author and publisher.
DEDICATION
This book is dedicated to the people who believe that even an iota of good work done with a selfless mind does not go unnoticed. It benefits both the person who does it and to the person who receives.
I dedicate this book to my dear friend Susan Shetty with whose permission is this published here, our dearest Mahila Samiti English High School teachers, to my loving mom and to my two beautiful God given kids- Hannah and Chris.
I dedicate this book to all the children who are “labeled” in any way and to the committed teachers who in spite of waging their everyday battle at home, continue to educate and motivate the children with passion eventually moulding them as better citizens for a better future world.
“A pencil is no cliché but it is a life-changing personification which unchains your mind to reach higher horizons”
“This is your prescription, Mrs. Smith. Oh! I forgot to mention one thing” Dr. Udvita gets hold of a pencil and writes - Get well soon! Seeing her in bewilderment, Mrs. Smith remarks “ Thank you, Dr. Udvita but may I know why are you scripting it with a pencil?”
Sneaking a look at the wall, with a sparkle in her eyes and an enchanting smile, Dr. Udvita replied, “I am an extension of a pencil!”
***
With a heavy sigh and a deep breath, Mehr stumbles on the chaise lounge and mumbles “After waking up at 5 am, sending my son to school and my husband to office, now again all the washing and cleaning stuff, uff! how I hate this job of a homemaker! For almost a decade and more, I am just entwined in my identity identified as Mrs Agrawal! “I wish I would have made my existence living in Mumbai as Mr Sharma’s daughter. My husband, my children, my home all these “My’s” have been inscribed over my individuality. I wish I could ask Google - if life would get any better. Yeah yeah, I know Google does not have the answer”.
Engrossed and trying to obliterate her thoughts, she continues to efface the kitchen table and by mistake slammed a tea cup and it lands on the floor with a loud boom scattering to uncountable nanoatomic pieces. “ Uff! now to add to my work, this one too!”
The pesky wolfie in her thoughts showed its ugly head and voiced out – “How many times I have told him to clean his own tea cup, but these men need sophistication within comfort zones”
Her stream of thoughts was suddenly interrupted by a loud knock of her door knocker. “Mehr, Mehr, open the door”. The rusty hinges of the old door squealed like fingernails on a dusty chalkboard and on opening the door, Mehr was in a state of shock.
***
Back in Dr. Udvita’s Clinic, there is a state of chaos, nurses running helter-skelter, gurneys, stretchers were moving in empty to the Casualty Department and Emergency Medical Department but were coming out with wounded patients, hospital alarms were ringing in dangerous decibels. It was a Code 1 Emergency.
Saket is also badly wounded and bleeding profusely. His insecurities and fears made him frozen with time. Saket is given a priority medical aid and his wounds are dressed and he is admitted in ICU for paramount monitoring and care.
***
Mehr’s palpitations and heaviness of breath was so loud that its resonance could have shattered the glass panes. She staggers to find the keys and her sweaty, shaky hands make the insertion of the key all the more complicated.
On the spur of the moment, she remembers she has left her Induction Cooker on. “Oh Ganesha!” she mutters to herself and makes an effort to open the door trying to surpass and win the critical nanoseconds of time. After an obstinate ordering of her brain waves, she gives a lynx-eyed glance and switches the Induction Cooker off and locks the door with a bang.
Her overwhelming fear that the elevator might stop abruptly implying it to an unfaithful man who can never love a woman completely, made her choose the option of swiftly climbing down the flight of stairs rather than taking the elevator.
Riding on their Suzuki Let’s, Mehr and Savita managed to evade the gridlocking traffic attributed to owning luxurious cars and bikes nowadays - as an easy-loan option. The never subsiding heat wave thankfully to the technologically advanced humans-caused global warming was making the traversing all the more difficult.
After a quiescent phase, recrudescent thoughts began racing Mehr’s mind “What could have happened? Will he be in pain? As a daily routine, I should have kissed him in the morning before he left, how could I be so busy and engraved in my own self-absorbed unhappiness of why-is-my-life-like-this? How did I forget to hug him ? If only the Book of my Life was written with a pencil, I would like to erase a few pages for sure!
Passing a football court and seeing the players play, she could decipher the sheepy-side in her heart slither out to make its presence visible and stirred her emotions leading her to remember her old days as a State Level Football Player.
Similar to that of a mild unknown background music which runs in some restaurants and shopping malls which we never even care about, Savita’s comforting and consoling conversations were reverberating feebly because of the helmet that she was wearing, though Savita was turning her neck to the right to make her voice as far as possible audible to Mehr.
Wiping her sweaty face, she was praying for his safety and the silent prayer ended with a choking voice reflecting her deep sadness. The waves of tears reached her lips when she whispered to her soul – “I love him more than anyone in this world. Lord Ganesha, please be with me but please be more with him!
With a hope based on faith and intuition and cast-your-burdens-to-your-God attitude, Mehr and Savita alighted down from their Suzuki Let’s and before Savita could make a halt, Mehr got down and ran inside the hospital. Her eyes carefully scanned and communicated through her neurons the data in a lightning speed to her brain. Her heart was fighting the thoughts of fear.
Her mind brought the Devil standing near her left side and it reminded her of all the sins she did in the way of saying small lie of asking an extra paper bag in the shop the other day, even though she had one; the serials she watched that she was not supposed to watch; the violent thoughts that she had got in her mind to slap a cashier in the bank who used to touch her hand while giving receipt. Her lips muttered and pleaded – “Oh God, I am sorry, but please let him be safe, please show me he is safe.”
As she was restlessly moving from ward to ward, Savita and Dr. Udvita interrupted her and consoling Mehr, Savita said with a heavy sigh “ Mehr, please be strong but I have to tell you this. Saket is in in ICU ward”.
As soon as she heard the word ‘ICU’, she could see a blackout. Whispering in a very faded voice “No, it can be, I love him. He is my only happiness. I cannot live without him.” She fainted.
***
Back To School
“How could you write like this Udvy? How many times I have taught you the correct spelling of are is a - r – e and not a – e – r , it is Simon and not Siomn, it is animal and not aminal, enemy and not emeny. Why cannot you be like Saransh who is the class topper ?” Udvy could visualize Miss Gonsalez rolling her eyes and holding her wooden scale. Her musky perfume was pervading Udvy’s nose making her realize Miss Gonsalez’s step by step proximity towards her.
Unperturbed, Udvy was drawing a beautiful rainbow and repeatedly reciting the poem ‘My Shadow’ which Miss Sharma had taught them beautifully with teaching aids and a hand puppet. Giving an evil grin, Miss Gonsalez placed Udvy’s notebook in her desk and exited Class VI- E.
Entering the Staff Room, Miss Gonsalez pouted in the mirror and applied a fresh coat of lip colour and entered a conversation with Miss Sharma who also had a free period in that same hour. “Why does this school admit a dyslexic and ADHD child like Udvy? Just because their parents are well known doctors, does it mean that we need to bear the brunt of educating their abnormal child?” Do we, Miss Sharma?
Miss Sharma’s face was concealed in the pile of English Class Work notes that needed to be corrected. A thin strand of hair was flowing freely as it played with the movement of the whirring antique rotating fan. Miss Sharma, 23 years old, President of English Club in Holy Cross School, Mumbai, was an excellent orator, a black belt holder in karate, a state level ace football player.
Though she used to be wooed by many men, she never used to flaunt her beauty before them as she had more priority work to do - teaching English with passion and transforming the neglected children to the level of making them as real-life achievers with more importance given to high EQ than IQ.
Her close set eyes were scanning the books for errors and correcting the errors with a pencil. Yea, with a pencil!!
She believed that with a pencil, we can correct any mistake we make. She loved the shades of grey more than the red pen’s streaks. She found a pencil relatable to a rolling dice as ironically (with no pun intended) both the pencil and the dice have six faces.
More profoundly was her thought that – the pencil is more forgiving and somehow most suited to changing and developing ideas.
She was called fondly as the Lady Pencilpreneur for she used to gift every child on his/her birthday with a pencil.
She was of the vindicative opinion that a pencil was the greatest original tech toy, an Elixir of Life, an Amrit ras which provided a fresh canvas for pioneering all expressions of art, design and communication. Her pencilled signature in their birthday cards was her trademark!
Miss Sharma looked up to Miss Gonsalez. Her smiling blue eyes graced with black eyelashes complemented with her beautiful right-sided dimple in face and the light pink dewy lip color.
She answered politely “Udvy is a talented child who is slightly dyslexic and has traces of ADHD too. With respect to her RWLS skills, she does do extremely well on Listening and Speaking Assignments more than Reading and Writing inspite of her fluttering attention span and fidgety nature. Regardless of her being left handed, her hands-on experience is just fantastic for a 12 year old child! Now that’s a blessing in disguise, isn’t it? So, I think, we need to change our approach and more importantly the way we handle them not by labeling them as abnormal child but by labeling them as a differently able gifted child!!
Not expecting this smooth-as-butter but sharper-than-double-edged sword type answer, Miss Gonsalez exited the staffroom in silence.
Udvy was Miss Sharma’s favourite student. Miss Sharma used to spend time with Udvy making her write the correct spellings and used to make her understand the concepts with a lot of visual aids and practical knowledge. She was adamant that the label of being dyslexic and ADHD should not be a deterrent for Udvy in any way.
It was not because of Miss Sharma’s educational qualification of Dual Honours in MA English Literature but because of her Masters in Child Psychology that she could convince Udvy’s parents who were well knows doctors in JJ Hospital, Mumbai that there is no need for any medical intervention.
***
At the hospital, Mehr collapsed and alarmed by this incident, Dr. Udvita immediately caught hold of her. The nurses attended to her and made her rest in a hospital bed.
Mehr was brought back to face the harsh reality of the present by a splash of cold water. Her eyes peered through the ICU ward. The board said “Silence Please!!” but Mehr’s heart was wailing aloud but her practical reality thoughts made her cup her hand over her mouth . The tears were unstoppable.
Dr. Udvita being a humane human first apart from holding an MD Degree and a DGO, held Mehr’s hands and responded to her innate response “Saket is fine, out of danger. As his school bus met with an accident, he got badly injured but now all his Vitals are stable and are being monitored by us. Please don’t cry. Instead thank God for the miracle.”
With tear in her eyes blurring her vision, Mehr expressed her immense gratitude to Dr. Udvita for her timely intervention and care.
Adjusting her stethoscope, Dr. Udvita advised her nurses to be with Mehr and Savitha and she went to her Consultation Room. Her Assistant Doctor On-Call, Dr. Sejal who was her best friend and classmate since childhood, saw that Dr. Udvita was lost in her thoughts. “Are you okay, Udvy? What happened? You seemed to be teleported somewhere.
With a naughty sly smile, Dr. Sejal continued “Surprise me by saying – Dr. Rahul Shetty proposed you with a ….”
Before Dr. Sejal could finish her sentence, Dr. Udvita retorted “ I think I have seen those eyes before. Her voice sounded so familiar!” Rolling her eyes and seeing through the black rimmed spectacles that she was wearing, she exposed her palms gesturing a what-the-heck-attitude and with a tinge of sarcasm remarked “ For God’s sake, Udvy - you meet nearly 100 patients a day, maybe she is just one of them!”
Dr. Udvita shook her head in non-acceptance and glancing at her framed pencil on the wall, she continued “I have a very deep feeling that I share a special bond with her. “
Her conversation was intervened when Dr. Rahul Shetty knocked the door and reminded Dr. Udvita that they have a delivery case now.
***
Back at School, Miss Sharma was walking through the school corridor with her mind already reaching her next class (which was in an hour’s time ) before her and planning on how that day’s class can be made more interactive, when suddenly she heard a sobbing. Turning her head to her right where the source of sound was coming from, she found Udvy crying.
Wiping her tears, Miss Sharma gave her some water and her favorite orange candy. Not willing to make a public spectacle and a ridicule among other teachers, she took Udvy to the school library and felt very sad to know that she had failed in all subjects except English and Drawing.
Taking a heavy sigh and feeling empathetic towards Udvy, Miss Sharma took out a new bright coloured pencil and remarked “Udvy, this is a very special pencil. Do you know why?”
Miss Sharma asked Udvy to hold the pencil in her hand and said “Always remember, you will be able to do great things only if you allow yourself to be held in God’s hand.
If a pencil lead breaks, we use a sharpener to sharpen it, in the same manner, sometimes in life you may experience a painful sharpening for your betterment!”
Udvy’s eyes had a strange look as if she had attained enlightenment and the seeds sown by Miss Sharma did indeed fall in place in Udvy’s heart, her sorrows faded and with a slowly arising smile, Udvy said “Mam, I will work hard and will score well next time but I find it difficult to read and write some words, will you be with me and teach me other subjects also?”
Miss Sharma nodded her head in acceptance. Slowly with Miss Sharma’s radiating positivity, persistent encouragement, consistent efforts, dynamic motivation, Udvy eventually ascended the stairs of achievement and success to being a class topper, then school topper and ultimately a state level topper.
***
Back in clinic, Dr. Udvita had a busier day that usual. Mehr was elated as it was the day of Saket’s discharge and Saket was joyous as ever as he could go home finally after a week’s stay in hospital.
As they paid the bills, Mehr and Saket waited in Dr. Udvita’s Consultation Room to express their gratitude for the timely, one-to-one care and healing that Saket got from the hospital staff in general and from Dr. Udvita in particular. Dr. Udvita’s room had a huge array of positive vibing factors which mingled well with a light peach colour paint on the walls, decorated with beautiful butterflies.
Lord Ganesha was seen smiling and the smell of chandan and incense gave her a feeling of sanctity, a feeling of finally-at-home. The various medals, shields, recognitions and awards narrated stories of Dr. Udvita’s laurels and fame. Moving on from one wall to another wall to see the gala display of her achievements, Mehr’s eyes froze as she saw a pencil photo frame. She could not believe her eyes and her mouth opened in awe. It was not that she was wondering why the pencil is in the frame instead of a photo but she was taken back seeing that it was her pencil in the frame.
Just as Mehr was trying to invade the open portal of her past, Dr. Udvita opened the glass door and after giving a smile seeing Saket, apologized to Mehr for making them wait.
Mehr unabated by her apology, interrupted her “How did you get this pencil?”
Dr. Udvita excitedly said it was the precious gift from her most lovable teacher who had once imprinted her mind that the pencil’s shades of grey is the part that is inside us and what we are is defined by thoughts of our heart and mind inside us. “She taught me that pencil is recherche and because of her pencilled signature, I am what I am today – My Identity - Dr. Udvita, MD, DGO”.
Astounded by her fountain of words, Mehr imitating a lady’s happiness in the parable of one missing coin, exclaimed “Are you Udvy, Class VI-E student of Holy Cross School, Mumbai?”
This unexpected question blended with reasoning, awe and happiness and Dr. Udvita expressed the affirmation with a nod, “ Yes, I am Udvy and may I know how do you know me?”
As if Mehr found a meaning to her monochromatic life, she replied “Udvy, I am Miss. Mehr Sharma, now Mrs. Mehr Agrawal, your English Teacher in Holy Cross School. So you never used that pencil, did you?”
There was an atmosphere of bubbly soul-filled laughter and exchange of nostalgic reminiscent memories. Udvy had never used that pencil but instead had framed that pencil as a worthy remembrance of her gratitude. The pencil’s graphite is the evanescent medium of great thinkers, articulate planners, the medium to be erased, revised, smudged, obliterated or inked
over. To Udvy, Mehr Sharma was a Goddess, a pencilpreneur who with her signature etched out a dyslexic and ADHD child’s Shades of Grey and re-etched her Identity as Dr. Udvita - MD, DGO in a Kaleidoscopic Hue!
***
