Saturday, May 24, 2014

Letter from a former tutor of Rahul Gandhi

Dear Editor,
Firstly, I am writing this letter with a very heavy heart and anonymously.Now you would ask why anonymously? Answer to that question is that I still teach and I have to feed my family, if the word gets out that I used to teach him, I hardly think anyone would send their ward to my tutorship.
I taught him over a period of 5 years, from 7th grade to 12th grade. Due to security reasons, I had to teach him alone. I still remember teams of SPG commandos outside my gate. Those head gears and black fatigues, a far cry from the today’s safari suit wearing body guards.So, why am I writing a letter? I have been asking myself the same question since the polls results.  A part of me was happy that BJP finally won, but inside a part of me was sad that the party run by my former student had been reduced to 44 seats from the 100 odd something they had won in last election.He was a quiet boy. Came on time, always brought his books and notebook, never threw any tantrums around the house and likewise.It used to be a scene around my home when he used to come. My wife would wake up early and get rid of every speck of dust in every nook and corner.Everyone was supposed to be quiet and disappear. But as the days passed my wife finally realized all he notices was the sock full of marbles hanging from the hook under the table. So, the daily rigormole of clean up stopped. I used to teach him for 2 hours and 15 minutes. After an hour we used to take a break. And my son and he used to play hide n seek, marbles and other games. He gelled on very well and I could sense that  those 15 minutes of break was all he loved about coming to my house. Those 15 minutes of unpretentious friendship and play made his day .You could easily see that he was worn out by the daily dose of sermons to him as if he is destined to rule the world. All that was discussed at the dinner table at his home was politics. Hardly any day would pass without the bickering and back bitching .It was a poisonous environment to grow in. His  sister was very smart and doting even then, but somehow as the years grew he felt disconnected with her too. Simply because unlike him, as he was insulated to all the power politics bullshit, she had finally blossomed into a future politician, participating in school debate clubs, running and rigging student body elections, all these came naturally to her. She learned all that at the knee of the shrewdest politician India has ever known; Indira.I see that that arrangement has not changed even now. Priyanka’s statements are more direct and combative where as our Rahul Baba's cannot even make it to the head line. 

It pains me when I see jokes about him circulating around on Facebook and twitter. Why doesn’t the world understand, he didn’t want all this. He was thrust into this. One day, when I was done expecting some sign of super genius from him. I asked him a simple question. What do you want to be in your life? What he replied astounded me, and I told him never to tell this answer to anyone, not even himself.What he wanted to become? In this answer is hidden the reason for everything he does. Do you think he enjoys all this, party politics, rallies, back lobbying, caste calculations; NO. He is a good person born in a wrong family, in the wrong order, with wrong sex and in the wrong country. The only thing that  excited  him was the summer vacation which he used to spend with his maternal grandparents. He used to feel loved there not because of his surname or the mantle he has to bear in future. They used to dote on him, loved all his eccentricities which were forbidden in the palace he lived back home. There were no servants to keep a watch, no SPG commandos nothing, he could run if he wanted to, laugh, jump whatever he wanted to do and nobody will raise a finger. Contrary to the common perception, his maternal family is very traditional, who still bake their pizza in a brick oven. He used to describe in detail to my son how the pizza is baked, he seemed to be in awe of the process and often at his own request his granny used to allow him to deliver pizza around the locality. This was the thing he loved the most, to deliver pizzas. The joy he felt at this job was incredible. He still has that dress that her grandma had given him as a delivery boy. Often after 16 hours of politics, he takes a look at that small red pants and  fray collared shirt, it calms him and he can go to sleep after wards. Dreaming about Italy, its narrow alleys and the smell of the pizzeria.
He was forcibly sent to the most prestigious colleges in and around India, without even asking. He could never make friends; he always used to get surrounded by sycophants and leechers. He hated to read about his family again and again. He stopped reading newspapers, news channels, everything. He left St Stephan’s half way, because he could no longer take the hidden barbs from both the leftists and rightist in the faculty, but what media portrays is that he flunked. It’s not that difficult to survive in an Indian college, with his connections and all. But he had enough of that. Next, he called me up once saying that he was leaving India, before leaving I invited him for dinner. He thoroughly enjoyed and stayed back for the night. Many eminent persons had written letters of recommendation for him; hence he had been accepted at one of Ivy League institutions. But, I could see that more than the college, he was happy for leaving India, the very nation his family had built. Ironic it may seem, but it’s the truth.Whenever I see him on TV giving massive speeches, I can straight away decipher the mask he has put on for his family which he resents, a party he hates.

I cannot write any long, I cannot see, my keyboard is wet with tears, may be next time I can finish this piece. I have much more to say about the bespectacled boy who used to play hide n seek around my house, and I will write it.

1 comment:

  1. This is the first time I felt bad for Pappu truly! He should muster the guts to say no to his mom and expose his mom and all the corrupt practices to clear his simpleton image