Ms Chatterjee

Walking in the narrow corridor, I carried my books to the locker. It was just 5 minutes past 8 in the morning and Ms Chatterjee would have started the lecture. I was late and anxious, as is usual of me. I entered and to my surprise she let me in. She did have a soft corner for me, I'm sure. As I sat I realised she was reading out my exam sheet to the students for reference. "I would have given it a full grade only if it had not been for the grammatical errors", said she. It meant a lot to me, and I know she guessed it. She saw inside me, the real me, my capabilities. She told me to work hard and come back to the college and join her as her colleague in the future. She had expectations from me. She saw something in me, she knew I was capable. But am I? Yes, I am. 

Gradually as I grow up, coming out of my shield of nervousness and low-confidence, I know I am worth it. It takes hell lot of guts and forcing yourself beyond the limit to come out of that constant rottenness of criticism you have been facing since you were a child. It is hard to come out of it, trust me. But I guess I made it through. Nevertheless, I shake like a bird flying against a gust, when told to do something impromptu, like addressing a room full of audience, be it an ignorant audience.
But do I live upto her expectations? Sometimes I wish she was my mother, I would have been not so scared, not so anxious, not so messed up.

But let's face it...