“I am working sir… I am a trainee programmer in BCS….”
The words flashed across the Gtalk window. For the first few moments, I just stared blankly at the streaming flow of words. Nothing registered. I read the words again, and only then, like the heady aroma of piping hot Darjeeling tea on a wintry morning, the happy feeling began to spread across me.
Mingma Dema. Yes, Mingma was in the first batch of my BCA class. She was from West Bhutan. I still remember the day she had come to college, for her admissions. She had come up to the 2nd floor, to have a peep at the BCA department.
At that time, we (the entire college and its folks) had barely moved in to our new building at 8th Mile. The BCA department was in a mess. I asked her why she was around and she replied “Sir, I came to see, sir, I…” the words trailed off. I couldn’t help but smile at her child like innocence. Soon other students of her batch also joined in and one of the Sisters showed them around.
Right from the first day of her class, Mingma stood apart from the other students of her class. As a teacher, you could feel the sincerity, honesty, and innocence in her. In an age when entertainment is defined by what the cable TV channels air, students like Mingma are a rare breed.
Throughout the three years that she spent in our college, Mingma was always the class topper. In a department like BCA, exposure to good books, additional training on latest technologies and access to high speed Internet are essential requirements. For a small hill station like Kalimpong, such facilities were almost non-existent. But Mingma never complained. She would slog throughout the course with a smiling face.
When I quit teaching at the college, Mingma was in her 5th Semester.
I landed up in Mumbai with my current job and gradually, the frequency of mails and phone calls with friends and folks in Kalimpong was reduced to the odd mail in 1 or 2 months. Firstly, nobody had the time, and secondly, in these times of cut-throat corporate competition, memories and emotions are essential commodities, rationed only for the close family.
I lost track when Mingma graduated. I had no clue where she was and what was she doing. My life was taken over by office deadlines and weekly targets.
There was nothing special about that day. It was like any other day in office, and I was neck deep in work. Suddenly, the Gtalk popup flashed at the bottom of the screen.
I glanced down at it and couldn’t believe my eyes. There was Mingma’s name on top, and it said - “How r u Sir?”.
Before I could get over my surprise, a new message flashed – “Sir, I am in Thimphu, Bhutan. I am working sir… I am a trainee programmer in BCS….”
1 comment:
Mingma must have had great regard and respect for her SIR. And so have we for a guy here...a guy whom we have christened as Jyatha. As it happened, this guy was the star attraction a couple of days back. It's his birthday. Colleagues did celebrate, and he received a few gifts as well. But I happened to catch one of the day's most memorable moments, to me that is.
This guy had a bagfull of chocolates for almost everybody. With choco-sharks all around, they were all gone within a few minutes. And some of the unfortunate and not-so-quick ones were left out (I was definitely not among that lot!).
So this guy went out for the second time and got another bag full of chocolates. By that time people had gone back to thier seats. Then came the surprise. He was going from one bay to the other, finding out the ones who didn't have earlier. I can't forget the face of awe-struck Ankur in our bay, when Jyatha came to offer him chocolates at his seat.
I guess Ankur was trying to figure out the last time he saw such modesty, that too in a corporate environment where modesty most of the times lies within a set of pre-defined parameters.
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