The Anatomy of
an Award
by Kamna Chhabra
While
scrolling messages in a common group we both
belonged to, I paused at a photograph of her
receiving an award, beaming in a silken saree, with
the person giving the award appearing more
grateful than the one receiving it. Behind them
stood the bespectacled, turban clad Sarvepalli
Radhakrishnan. The stage felt disproportionately
large with just two occupants, as the MOC tucked
into a corner urged an unseen audience to offer a
resounding round of applause.
There are
reasons to feel proud if one’s head of the
institution is felicitated with such deafening
applause, as seen in the video, and with such
generous remarks as read in the endless reactions
to this wonderful news. At the same time, I felt
a quiet sadness that I could not see- in fact,
most of us in the staff could not see- what
others so clearly did. Perhaps, observing her
closely we may have missed her distinguishing
traits. After all, isn’t it often that
distance sharpens one’s sense of beauty-
well, in her case, talent?
Right from the
day she had joined the school, I have been
overawed by her personality, no not because of
her imposing frame which lent her a slightly
less effeminate air, but because of her uncanny
ability to win awards at the drop of a hat…in
fact, at the drop of someone else’s. If
she learnt that a fellow principal had been
acknowledged for leadership, promptly she would
add another trophy to her cabinet. What
impressed me even more was her modesty. She
rarely dwelt on these achievements, accepting
congratulations with a quiet smile. Again, I
guess these awards and rewards had become ‘business
as usual’ for her, nothing extraordinary.
However, for
the likes of me, unimpressed with her day-to-day
running of the school, yet struck by her appetite
for awards, she remained, to borrow Churchill’s
words for Russia, “a riddle wrapped in a
mystery inside an enigma.”
With thirty
years of teaching experience behind me, some
colleagues egged me on to also give it a try,
even if not in the leadership category, then at
least as a teacher.
“Why don’t
you apply for one?” Sona, a dear friend
asked.
“Apply?”
I queried, continuing with, “I thought your
fame has travelled so far and wide that those who
are always scouting for such distinguished talent
would instantly reach out to you, informing you
that you have been shortlisted for the award.”
“I think
once you enter that charmed circle of recipients,
the organisers will start seeing you brimming
with new qualities each year and will be the ones
inviting you to be part of the show,” she
reasoned.
Giving in to
her persuasion, I finally relented and applied.
And guess what? I’ve just received an
intimation from the Sarvepalli
Radhakrishnan Foundation informing me that I am
among the chosen few to be felicitated next week
in Dehradun. Yet, what I cannot quite understand
is the request to send a draft of fifteen
thousand rupees in the Foundation’s name-
perhaps to cover my stay and travel.
It is said
that the ways of God are difficult to comprehend.
But here I am, unable to make sense of the ways
of the world.
And so, both
my awe and enigma continue...
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