7) Teaching in the Andamans

I first met her on the portals of IIM, Bangalore as nervous freshers dreading ragging; there was cackling sense of excitement in the air too. Getting into IIM is akin to climbing the Everest and the next two years would indeed be fun preparing us for international careers.

Who could ever forget Sheila? A frisky, petite woman, livewire of our batch, garrulously friendly, never short of a repartee, Sheila was fast making an impression with both freshers and seniors. She was quite a character in the campus puffing a cigarette and not averse to walking to the mess hall in her night gowns. She was an eager caroms player and by the end of the first month, hers was one face none could forget or ignore.

Soon we were thrown together for projects and I got to know her much better. The late night combined studies and making all those acetate sheets presentations bonded us as we slaved to beat the deadline clock. It was only in the weekends that she really let her hair down and partied to her heart’s content.

Sheila was always in the top quartile in the class and soon she developed a reputation for intelligence and hard work just as much for her frivolity.
At the end of the first year, I did my summer project in a MNC bank in the capital while Sheila interned in Oxfam India at Chennai. When the institute reopened, we were back to our revelry and now looked forward to ragging the new batch.
The sight of Sheila after two months shocked me. She had changed 180 degrees sporting a salwar kameez instead of her usual rugged jeans and smoking was another habit she had kicked. Her locks hanging in curls had been trimmed short. Amongst friends, we sensed a greater maturity, lot calmer façade and none of her old, excited outbursts of. It looked as if the last two months had grown her exponentially.

Her aptitude for topping her exams remained just as sincere and we still ran to her for clarifications and last minute tips for impending exams.

As the year drew to a close, we were all sought by the best companies in the world and offer salary had for the first time gone past $100,000. Shiela got the best of offers but she kept turning them down.

I was concerned and asked for an explanation.

Sheila smiled serenely indicating her disinterest in a marketing career but instead bound to a small school in the Andamans.

I fumed,” Then why all this trouble and what’s got into you?”

She said,” Anand, I did my summer training at Oxfam and that’s when I realized the hopelessness of my existence. Here I am partying and enjoying to death while some innocent kids go to bed hungry and illiterate and often praying to the Gods for relieving them from agony”.

I could sense her determination and steely resolve and said,” You can always keep in touch and I will you help you anytime – either with a job or for donations to your school”.

That was the last I saw of her though she would send picture postcards on festivals and birthdays.

I made good progress with my career in an investment bank and would call up her now and then and keep track of her welfare.

Five years rolled by and she kept reporting her progress. She seemed more content in a small hamlet in Andaman than me in a newly acquired Malabar Hill flat. She used her management skills well; now oversees 24 villages near Car Nicobar teaching children under the age group of 15.

I will never forget the day I was woken up early by a call on a Sunday afternoon. A giant tsunami had swept the region and her colleagues called in to confirm the worst fears.

The Indian navy escorted us to the islands she served. Strangers hugged me and lamented her untimely demise. The whole village had mourned her death and despite their own sorrows, there is a small memorial for Shiela Bhat in Car Nicobar.

The epithet was particularly moving – leave the world a better place than when you arrived.