Not all winners deserve the trophy

I was too young to understand the true meaning of winning. But old enough to know that if I didn’t score good marks in my exams and if I didn’t win the first rank in class, I would never be the ‘good’ child my parents wanted me to be.

Yes, I grew up at a time when a ‘good’ child is defined by the marks he scored in his exams, the company he kept and the glasses of milk he drank without complaining! And for me, the last was the most difficult thing to do but I made sure that I was got enough marks to keep my parents happy and only made friends with children approved by them.

However, the thought of drinking three glasses of milk gave me nightmares. But this story is not about milk or keeping good company. This is about winning.

I was in my third standard. And much to my parents’ dismay, getting good marks wasn’t good enough. I wasn’t the topper. I was the one who held the second rank. So, when the next year’s classes began, so did begin the mounting pressure on me. 'Scoring 95 in maths isn’t enough'. 'If he can get 98, so could you.' 'Drink more milk, it will make your brain sharper.' I was caught between the devil and the deep sea; only in my case it was maths and drinking milk.

As the exams approached, I started losing my confidence. Finally, I sought refuge in religion. Every night I prayed for a miracle. I would sincerely beg God to do something that would make me score better marks than the boy who stood first.

The dreaded exams finally arrived. Both my parents accompanied me to school . My mother had tied my hair into two braids ensuring no truant hair dared to disturb me during the exam. I bid them goodbye with a heavy heart. I have to score the highest mark this time. So I prayed again before the question paper was handed over to me.

“Please God! Let there be a miracle. Let me score the highest marks in all subjects this year.”

Those seven days passed like a bolt of lightning . And immediately after the exams were over, the winter vacation started. However, before leaving the school, the class teacher had informed us that the results would be declared after twenty days and everyone would have to collect their report cards from the class teacher on that day. I left for home. A little happy. A little heavy-hearted. Twenty more days.

On the much-awaited day, my parents and I reached school quite early. But we were greeted by other parents and students who had reached there much earlier. I think they all were a staunch believer of ‘early birds catch the worm’.

As always, my mother had made me drink a full glass of milk and by the time we reached the teacher’s table, I was already nauseous. I didn’t know if it was the milk or the anticipation that was making me sick to the stomach.

“Congratulations!” said my teacher with a smile.

“Thank you, Miss,” I responded weakly. I belong to a generation who address their school teacher as ‘miss’. And my class teacher would even congratulate an ant for eating sugar . So, from her cheerful demeanour, it was difficult to guess if she was congratulating me for being the second-rank holder or just merely passing my exams.

“Stop being so morbid. You have really done well. You are the first rank holder,” saying this she handed over the report card to my parents. My knees could no longer take my weight. I was about to slip when my mother held me in a tight hug and kissed me. Finally!

As we were taking instructions from the teacher about the next class. I spotted him. Standing next to his parents was the boy I had just defeated. The same boy who was so long the first rank holder of the class. My teacher caught me smiling jubilantly while looking at him.

“Poor child. He missed his last paper. He had measles just the before the last day of the exams and was bedridden. He is a brilliant student. But thankfully, the Principal has allowed him to retake the exams next week,” said my teacher. Those were not the days of mobile phones or the news would have travelled faster.

Somehow, the report card in my hands felt like a heavy load. I was too young to understand that not all winners deserve the trophy.