HOW TO WRITE GOOD COMPOSITIONS

I am a late-bloomer in life… But, not in all areas of my life. In many areas, I have bloomed earlier than many others around me; and, yes, there are many areas, where I have taken a lot more time to bloom…

One of them is my English.

Well, I have a valid excuse, dear...

I went to our local Kannada-medium primary-school. At home I was Konkani; in school and everywhere else, it was either Kannanda, Tulu or Konkani. English was for the elite. And, that was it. As a kid, I still have painful memories of either disliking or envying those kids who went to the good English-medium schools. In those days, there were hardly any English-medium schools… Leave alone today’s IB, ICSC, CBSC and the likes.

Till you become a teenager, you don’t become too self-conscious. Your poor English does not weigh like a heavy yoke around your neck… It is no big deal, indeed. But, as you enter the High School, you begin to sulk like a shy touch-me-not. And, in your sulking, you begin to brood… bleed, silently.

It may not be the case with everyone else; but, in my case, it was… Yes, I still have those painfully memories of silently sulking, brooding and bleeding. It had contributed to my inferiority complex… and, my social inhibition.

So, just in a few years, when you walk into a big college, how do you expect to leave behind your shy, frightened shell? You carry yourself wherever you go… I carried with me my low self-esteem to college too…

The yoke of my poor-English weighed, now, even heavier… I sulked more … brooded and bled more…

Yes, when this happened, no one else came to know… Nor anyone understood…

These demons were, are and will, always, be private demons… One is expected to fight them alone… Yes, alone.

So, how did I do it?

Well, to fight a demon, who has trespassed into your heart, you need to invoke your guardian angel who needs to be incredibly stronger than the demon… Yes, your desire to achieve something loftier in life – your burning ambition – is your guardian angel. It will do for you the trick… It will outwit the dark-god, who has kept you captive in a fearful-shell.

By the end of my FY B’Com, inspired by my hero, Prof. B.S. Raman, my burning white-ambition - to become a teacher like my hero - had invaded me, with all its might. I was, now, constantly dreaming, soaring and delighting in this inner-experience… It was happening more and more and more… day after day… every hour, every minute and every heartbeat…

Darkness, they say, is only an absence of light…

Fear, they say, is only a shadow… It goes when light comes…

Yes, when I knew what I had to do in life – and, why and how dearly I wanted to do it – the demon called poor-English just disappeared…

Two Gods can’t dwell in the same house… The stronger one will show the door to the weaker one!

A mother of a ten-year-old came to me, last evening, with a very earnest request. She said, in all her honesty, “Sir, I read your daily Posts… and I am amazed by the way you express yourself.”

I felt very happy, obviously!

“Sir, I want my son to learn how to write good compositions and essays;” my admirer continued, “Can you please give one hour for him a week to help him write like you?”

I ran my hand over the little-fellow’s head and said, “Ma’am, don’t worry about the compositions too much… Just help him trust in his instinctive, natural thoughts, feelings and ideas… Encourage him to read many short-story books… Help him tell those stories both orally and in writing the way they come to him… Just the way they come. Help him have faith in himself… Help him look up into the sky… the stars, the moon and the dark night… Help him feel them, feel inspired by something bigger than him… And, all along, help him to be a dreamer…!”

And, yes, I did promise the lady that I would love to help the kid, now and then, and just joyfully.

But, I did not tell this lady as to how bad I was in English till I became quite an adult… how much I had sulked, brooded and bled inside my heart… and how long and how painfully… till something bigger had happened to me… When God had commanded to me, like He had done to Moses: “Enough of self-pity… Now, get up and march towards your Promised Land!”

The little child is so sweet… and, unlike me, has been privileged to study in a fine ICSE school… and, unlike me, he is born to parents who speak smart English…

I was terrified of English compositions and essays as a school-going boy… I am not, now… I love them, today. I simply love them!

Perhaps, now, I am not afraid 

of anyone giving me grades… 

And, I am not worried, anymore, 

of failing any exams!

The ten-year-old is too small to understand all this…

 His mother is, certainly, old enough!

GERALD D’CUNHA

Pic.: Gloria Pinto