[dropcap]L[/dropcap]ife is full of complexities and people who come up clean out of those complex situations are the real survivors. My life, too, was quite perplexed when I had that fire in my thoughts but was too shy to express them. Being born in an orthodox Brahmin family and that too as the eldest girl amidst all siblings and cousins, I had to make my ways of my own and those paths were filled with thorns. I was a teen who had to face all the adversities of life just because my views were too progressive for my conservative family. Despite my being the most loved child, my life had turned into a paradox. And to deal with those paradoxical situations, I used to confide in my diary.Those poems and thought provoking stories were the explosive expressions of my vanquished emotions but were too coy to be shown to the world. So my feelings and expressions were preserved secretly inside my confidante— my ‘dear diary’.
It was a fateful day when I was caught red-handed by my history teacher [highlight]Ms. Mridula Sinha[/highlight], writing discreetly in the classroom. Though it was a leisure period, she confronted me as if I had done a crime. I was confused of her behavior as she belonged to the literati of the town and was being published in most of the noted magazines and newspapers of that time. I was surprised that how could she behave like those conservative people whom I was surrounded with. My diary had been confiscated by her and I was frightened if the matter was going to be disclosed to my family.
Next day, I was called to the staff-room and a scared ‘Me’ considered myself almost finished. But, to my utter surprise, she was smiling and told me to sit beside her. And then, I received those pearls of wisdom— that [highlight]#SachichiAdvice[/highlight] from her to show my work to the world. She even provided me the contact list and addresses of several leading weekly, fortnightly and monthly magazines and even guided me at each step.
And the day had come when my first article was published in the prestigious weekly Hindi magazine ‘Dharmyug’ by the Times of India group. I was not even aware of the fact about my published article till I reached to college that day and got the surprise in the assembly where Mridula ma’am was smiling with the copy of Dharmyug issue. Her #SachichiAdvice had made me break all the barriers of self-suppression, under-statement and self-mutilation. And an expressive ‘Me’ freaked out of that coy girl.
It’s been almost 25 years since I have lost all contacts with my history teacher Ms. Mridula Sinha and I even do not have any clue where she is today. But whenever, I pick up my diary to write something, I remember her naughty smile when she caught me writing. I still feel her presence in my life as a guardian angel with her #SachichiAdvice.
I am participating in the #SachchiAdvice Contest by MaxLife in Association with BlogAdda.