A new weekly column. Every Sunday.
Pineapples in Dubai
I got up today with a phone call from Prof. Moradian, my business school professor. He was calling to connect me with someone. But honestly, it did not matter why he was calling me. He could have been calling me to discuss the weather for all I care; I was just happy that after all these decades, we were still in touch and somewhere in his mind, I still existed.
The sound of his voice was enough to remind me how I had stood up to refute a point, in a class of 100+ students and how he had rolled his eyes at the sheer audacity of my question. That is how it all began, and we have never looked back since. Somewhere post my graduation and along the way, we both found ourselves in Dubai. He was there to teach a class and I was there on work for Dubai Tourism. We met for an evening of conversations over pineapple, his favorite fruit and just like that, it looked like we were in class again!
It made me think about teachers and their significance in my life. One of the earliest teachers that I remember was an elderly lady called Mrs. Karat. Both she and her walking stick terrified all who crossed paths with her. Her standards were high, and she expected everyone to give their best and nothing less. And here was I, someone who really did not want to spend my school years learning geography, but her high bar made me want to excel. After trying a couple of times, I finally did! I came first in one of her tests, shocking the entire class, who probably saw me as a back bencher, with little interest in continents and countries.
The Dimpled Mrs. Iyer
Then there was the very loving, very warm and dimpled Mrs. Iyer. She taught us English in 11th and 12th grades. A favorite of many, she was definitely a huge influence on me and my love for the English language. Thanks to her, I entered and won several elocutions, extempore and writing competitions.
In fact, it was under her guidance and influence that I sent my 1st article to a well-known hip newspaper called The Indian Post. Scribbled on regular notebook paper in my handwriting, which under no circumstances can be described as legible, I shot it away, not expecting anything in return. Four or so weeks later, I received a check in the mail, with my name on it! You see, a young journalist called Prem Panicker received my piece, saw potential in it and published it. So, what did I do when I received that check out of the blue? Dance on the dining table, of course! Oh, and open a bank account.
The association with Prem and writing continued. I went on to write a weekly column, in blissful ignorance of the impact of having a regular byline in a mainstream, all India newspaper at the age of 16!
It was Mrs. Iyer who persuaded me to join a writing competition held by Mr. Anant Pai, also known as the father of Indian comics. I won, had the chance to meet him and even write for his magazine called Partha. A national hero, Mr. Pai came to our house, met my parents and even agreed to become my local guardian when my father got transferred from Bombay and I chose to stay on campus to complete my graduation.
Bylines
Writing was a big part of my college years and I ended up becoming a regular feature writer for The Sunday Observer, sometimes even making the cover story at the age of 18! When I was not in college, I was at the newspaper office, rubbing shoulders with amazing peers such as Harsh Shrivastava, Parthip Thyagarajan and even the absolutely divine, very funny, prolific writer and deep thinker, Anand Shivkumaran. We have all gone our different ways but have continued to keep in touch even after all these years. Looking back now, I wonder, how much of this would have been possible without Mrs. Iyer.
Psychology and the Elusive Trophy
One of the subjects that I studied in college, was Psychology. Aah, the wonderful Prof. Randeria. He was such a stickler for time that he would lock the class door, 1 minute after the bell rang. I would come running down the hall from another lecture that was running late, and he just knew that the relentless banging would not stop till he let me in.
In my 2nd year, he had this little trophy perched on top of the blackboard, promising it to the student who came first in class. I remember the absolute regret that I felt when I came second by a few points and did not end up winning that trophy.
A few years back, I went to my college to say hello and met Prof. Randeria. It was his final year, and he was getting ready to retire. We reminiscenced about his class and I mentioned how devasted I was about not winning that trophy. He paused, looked through his office desk for several moments and found what he was looking for. He gave me a trophy, saying, “Anika, this is for you, because you have gone on to achieve so much more than those points in class!” To say that I had tears in my eyes, is an understatement.
The Teacher Who said No
Anika with Prof. Sudhakar
And then there was Prof. Sudhakar. Everybody’s mentor, I was lucky to have crossed paths with him in college. My love for plants and the environment is many thanks to him. He is perhaps, also responsible, in many ways, for shaping my career. When I got an offer to be interviewed by Bobby Oberoi, to get into one of the top-notch hospitality chains in the country, he shook his head and asked me to pause. He also had the same response when I got an offer to become an air hostess, which, during those years, was considered the 2nd most glamorous career, after modeling. “Anika, you have more brains that that. Don’t take those offers,” he said, and I listened. It was not easy to listen because those offers were alluring, but listen I did. On a recent trip to India, when he reached out and asked me to address some of the undergraduate and graduate students, the answer was, of course, a resounding yes!
In Deep Gratitude for my Compass
I look back in deep gratitude at my teachers – those who intentionally and unintentionally taught me so many things. One of them, Prof. Sandeep Gokhale, guided me to what has become my spiritual path today. “Anika just do it, he had said,” and I listened.
How lucky are we to have our teachers and our gurus? I wonder who or what I would have been without them? They were tough, they all had very high expectations and would not take no for an answer. They have served as my compass and been responsible for so much that I hold important today. Which is probably why, whether I make time for family or friends on my trips back home, I always make time for my teachers.
My heart is full of gratitude for the ones that I have crossed paths with and those that that I am yet to meet. For they carry with them, the promise of new lessons, nudges and relationships that will last a lifetime – continuing to shape me into who I am today.
Write and tell me who taught you? And what about that lesson are you grateful for?
Read my previous blogs below:
- Anika’s Zen and the Power of Gratitude
- Sack Full of Breaths
- The Power of Silence: A Date with Myself
- Travel Through the Glass
- The Elusive Trophy
- The Joy of Everyday
- Does Love Have a Color?
- Stronger than the Storm
- My Neighborhood, My Tribe
Anika Sharma is a digital thought leader, a mother, a professor at New York University’s Stern School of Business. She was recently named as one of the top 150 digital global leaders to follow in 2021. When she is not busy working or raising her two teenage children, you can find her planting herbs in her garden, meditating with her friends, swimming long laps or filling rooms with her cackling laughter. Contact her at anikadas@gmail.com or on twitter
If you enjoyed this blog, read about the Many Benefits of Gratitude. and the Rules of Simple Living.
Do you love our posts and recipes? We’d LOVE to see your creations so click a photo and tag us on Instagram with the hashtag #healthyindian3 and please give a star (★) rating below. Follow us on Facebook, Twitter, Pinterest, Instagram, YouTube & Tumblr for healthy, easy and delicious recipes and lifestyle tips.
*There could be affiliate links in this blog. As an Amazon Associate, we earn from qualifying purchases.
