Struggle on!

“You don’t know what a struggle this is, ma. You’ve never taken so much stress when you were in school!” How often have I heard this moan at home. And I’m sure I am not the only mother to have heard this. Mothers of all students facing exit examinations must be familiar with this refrain.


“Too much pressure,” “Too much stress.” Heavy syllabus, heavier competition. Sure, child, it is a struggle. But do not for a minute imagine that you are the only group of strugglers in this world. Or that nobody else could be suffering like you do. That all was hoity-toity in times gone by when I was young or your grand dad.


Child, all of us have struggled, and all of us will struggle till we come to terms with ourselves and the world. And even then, we still struggle. There may be differences in the degree of one's struggle, differences in the way one reacts to one's circumstances, and differences in the kinds of struggles. But to think that there was a time and a place and a people who did not struggle – is a misconception.


When I was young and a student in Kolkata, yes, we did not have to cope with a heavy syllabus, or pressure from home or peers. But we did struggle. Struggle to study in the face of long powercuts. Stewing in our own perspiration in the sweltering heat of summer, often with not even a pifling ceiling fan to cool us. Poring over our notes in the light of a kerosene-lit lantern, the kerosene being bought at a ration shop after hours of standing in a long queue unmindful of the summer heat. Air-conditioners did not exist in our vocabulary. No ice creams and milkshakes to cheer us on a hot day - those were rare treats.


We would walk long distances to xerox papers. Only a few of us had phones at home, which we could use but sparingly to connect with friends. And mobiles - whoever had heard of them then?


Struggle to find resources - there was no internet then, and not even the computer. We did not get information at the click of the mouse. No copy-paste to help us through our projects. Our parents did not explore opportunities on behalf of us, like we do for you. No one taught us study skills, or learning techniques or stress busting strategies.


We don’t know how we drifted, how we learnt of opportunities, how we learnt how to learn and study. Which were the best institutes, what should one aspire for, how does one face competition, what was the best examination strategy to adopt. We stumbled and faltered, fell and recovered, and moved on.


There were fewer tuition centres then, and they were less organized than they are now. And those of us who prepared for the JEE and other competitive examinations mostly took up distance learning and had to wait for their study packages to arrive by ordinary post. There was no courier those days. And when one answered a question paper, one had to post it, and wait for weeks for the corrected sheets.


Have you even seen post boxes? Well, there are few of them today, and we mostly do not use them, preferring to use the courier, but there was a time, when we were younger when these post boxes were our very lifeline, our windows to the world.


But we didn’t think of them as struggles, they were …well, our life, that’s all. Tell me, child, what would you do if you had to lead a life like mine? Would you then call your current life a struggle?


Your dad, sweetheart, went through much the same. He had to study in the same room as the television and if you only knew that a roomful of neighbours gathered in those days in houses that had the television (which was a rare possession, those days) you would understand how difficult it must have been for your father and his brother to study during telecasts.


I also remember, sweetheart, my father and mother talking about their student days. Those were worse. Mother travelled to a town from her village every day just to pursue studies - this in days when girls were not sent to schools, leave alone go out of the house, unescorted. She even chose to take up residence in a hostel for a whole year to complete her studies. Residence in a hostel run by Christian missionaries, who put pressure, subtle and overt, on her to convert. Not easy, as you can imagine, for a seventeen year old.


My father: child, your grandfather was the son of a poor schoolteacher. They lived in a one-roomed house: five families shared a toilet and bathroom. Father could not afford paper or even a slate (I don’t suppose you know what a slate is) to practice sums on. He used chalk pieces to write and scrub and write again – on the red cement floor of their house. Now, tell me, is that not struggle?


Child, we struggle in different ways in different times, but we all struggle. Life is about struggling – and struggling cheerfully. Your ordeals and torments - if you must think of them as that - will build your mental sinews and emotional muscle – which will help you face the challenges you will meet in the course of your life.


At every corner, and every nook, you will find a surprise, sometimes pleasant, sometimes not. And to move on from there will always involve struggle. If you learn to accept challenges, and develop the fire and energy to take them on, you will grow into a stronger, more positive and robust individual. If you allow yourself to cave in, to be intimidated, if you feel victimized and threatened all the time, life will seem a gargantuan insurmountable hurdle.


Therefore, my child, face every struggle consciously, gamely and confidently. He who sends us challenges has also given us the strength and endurance to take them on. He is confident that you will shine through - that is why he has piled it on you. Why, then, this timidity, this diffidence, this fear, this negativity in you?


Child, you did not ask to come into this world. But having come, you need certain qualities to see you through life. Take every opportunity to struggle cheerfully. Learn to meet life head on. You will, then, not feel stressed. Indeed, you will begin to enjoy life.