IYER PART-6

My Mother arranged for my admission to one of the most prestigious colleges in the city. However, my sister expressed her disapproval, urging my mother not to enroll me in her school because she felt ashamed to have me as her brother. Despite her reservations, I entered the school premises.

On my first day, the principal called me into her office and pointed out the notice board. "Look," she said, "your mother has secured the first rank in the state. I've also heard that your father was an outstanding student. Your sister, too, is a natural genius like your parents. We have high expectations from you." Her words filled me with fear and anxiety, intensifying the pressure I felt to meet these lofty standards.

Soon, it became evident to the school authorities that I was not meeting the academic standards expected of me. Even my sister faced ridicule from other students, which left her devastated. The principal called my mother multiple times, suggesting that I be transferred to a different school catering to individuals with impairments. This particular school boasted a 100 percent pass rate in board exams, and they feared I would struggle if I continued in the regular classes. The torment I endured at school was unbearable, but amidst the hardship, a glimmer of something positive occurred.

A girl named Vandana, the epitome of beauty, joined our class. From the moment I laid eyes on her, I fell in love. I had no friends at school, but Vandana's arrival changed everything. She was not only intelligent and beautiful but also admired and respected by my classmates.

However, I remained ugly in the eyes of others, constantly neglected and insulted by teachers and classmates alike. Whenever someone made fun of me, my attention would immediately shift to Vandana to gauge her reaction. It hurt me deeply when she laughed along with others or when teachers insulted me in her presence. I was more concerned about what she thought of me than how I felt about the humiliation itself.

I harbored my love for Vandana for four long years, but she never paid any attention to me. The school management, driven by their obsession with maintaining their 100 percent pass rate in board exams, failed me in the 9th grade. Despite my sister achieving the third rank in the board exams, she refused to assist me with my studies. She even went as far as telling me that I smelled bad. While she enjoyed the privilege of sharing a bedroom with my mother, she was given a separate room upon my arrival. My sister resented me for taking her space, and my mother, perhaps not wanting to burden me further, chose not to pressurize me academically. Meanwhile, my sister successfully completed her pre-university education and pursued a career in medicine.

I heard through some sources that Vandana had enrolled in a Chartered Accountancy course. When my school denied my promotion to the 10th grade, my mother decided to withdraw me from the institution and started teaching me privately. However, every time I attempted an exam, I failed miserably, earning single-digit scores in every subject. My mother would look at my report card with a heavy heart and tears welling up in her eyes. She would then retreat silently to her room, closing the door behind her. Hours would pass with her remaining inside, but she never uttered a word to me. I despised myself for my academic failures, but no matter how much I studied, the knowledge never seemed to stay in my mind. Additionally, I always felt a deep sense of fear and anxiety whenever I opened a textbook as if a swarm of butterflies were fluttering in my stomach, warning me of the imminent failure that awaited me.