Renuka writes this simple, heartfelt epistle to her daughter in the faraway upstate New York. She is there and is currently studying Psychology and Education so that she can somehow find a more sensitive way for society to deal with people with mental and emotional disabilities.
Dear Ramya,
I still remember the days when Appa was gone and I used to be frightened about the prospects of bringing up two little children all by myself without his loving presence to guide me along. That seems such a long way ago now and the two of you are sterling young people who make me proud of what you have made out of your lives. People often tell me that I have done a splendid job of raising you as grounded, balanced, and loving children; I know I have and I tell them that I thank God everyday for it as well as all the people who have supported me in doing that.
It is not often that I would write you a letter of this kind but none of what I say here are mere words; they are the stuff that I have experienced in the last fifty years. So it is, in some ways, coming right from the horse’s mouth!
Dear Kannamma, you are on the threshold of a life that is brimming with promise and potential and as you set out on a long and fruitful journey, I want to tell you about the things that helped me along the way, when I was like you, a young woman eager to experience a life of her own.
Your grandparents and my siblings—your aunt and uncle and all my cousins—say that even when I was merely three-years-old, I had a mind of my own and refused to let anyone tell me that something was impossible to do. When my grown up siblings and cousins in our large joint family closed the door on my face so that they could learn their music lessons in peace, I banged on the doors everyday and screamed to be let in because I wanted to learn too. My family said it was too early but the endless banging on the door continued till one day the music teacher convinced my parents to let me into the room and I started learning music at that very age of three. Music continues to be one of my biggest passions to this date, a companion that soothes the soul and refreshes the mind when it is restless or fatigued.
That refusal to let other people lay down standards and benchmarks for me has been one of the most important principles of my life and I hope that you can make it yours too.
When I enrolled for a chemical engineering course at the prestigious Veermata Jijabai Technological Institute (VJIT) in 1978, I was only the fourth girl in the institute’s 99-year-old history. The Principal of the college did his best to dissuade me, saying I would be alone in a class full of boys and cautioned me that it would be difficult, if I chose that as a profession. He cautioned me that insisting on taking the textile engineering course could possibly mean that I would never get employment because there were not many women tough to handle the heavy textile machinery that I would have to in the industry at that point. My male classmates would often chide me and say that as a woman in that course, I had deprived a deserving male candidate of his seat because I would only finish the course, get married, and bear children. They did not realize that every time they dissuaded me, talked down to me, and demoralized me, I was more determined to show them that I was made of sterner stuff. I thought to myself, ‘Just what do they know about me that makes them so sure that I cannot complete this course?’
At each stage in my life, I have set my own internal benchmarks for achieving my personal goals. I have been inspired and motivated by people, but my standards of what constitutes excellence have always been set by me.
Often, my parents and my friends wonder why I am not willing to pause or rest on my laurels and my answer to them is that in my lexicon, the word ‘enough’ does not exist. For me there is always something that can be improved, something more to be done and learnt, always something more to innovate… It is easy to mistake this as compulsive behavior but I always say that if you enjoy what you do, there is no question of looking at it as a chore. Take joy in doing whatever it is that you want to do and do the best that you can. Kannamma, for me, hard work is the only way to realize God. That, and a deep, unwavering, unfaltering commitment to your chosen path. Get after the thing that you want with single-mindedness, madness even, and that alone will propel you to your destination.
Growing up in a large joint family of very modest means, I was always impressed and touched by the relentless hard work and sacrifices that my elders made so that the entire family got a decent life and good education. My parents never hid their financial struggles from us and we were conscious and grateful for all the things that we got despite our bottom-of-the-middle-class existence. Money was scarce and the elders stretched themselves so that they never had to deny us anything.
Amma would cook for three of us, do her household chores, and stitch frocks for us so that for the
