Later, around Diwali, I visited her at St Joseph’s Convent, Pune, where she lives a pleasant retired life, and plied me with cake and cream rolls
Illustration/Uday Mohite
My phone rang at about 10.30 pm. It was an unknown number. I was really not in a nice mood. I’ve been under tremendous pressure to watch tonnes of films at deadline time for both the Berlin Film Festival and the Golden Globe Awards as an International Voter. Calls are intrusive when I’m watching films; I prefer emails or texts, so I can reply without being disturbed. “Oh God, Meenakshi, I finally got you!” said a voice at the other end. “It’s Sister Margaret. From St Teresa’s School.” I squealed. Sister Margaret! She was our Class Teacher in high school, and we had last met when I finished school over 40 years ago!
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She told me about the endless trouble she had, trying to trace my number from ex-students, ever since she read my column Back to School (July 3, 2022), on attending the St Teresa’s Convent High School reunion (1922-2022), at Santa Cruz, where I studied as a kid. I crumbled like a Glucose biscuit in hot chai. I was deeply moved that she would remember me, after four decades. She herself would be in her 70s now. We talked of our glorious school years—childhood years glow even more with the distance of time, don’t they? And then she said something that moved me even more. “I had just finished doing my BEd (Bachelor of Education), and was assigned to teach your class. So you were my first batch, and I taught your class English. Actually, when I asked your class to write essays, I used to just wait to read your essays, because you wrote so well. I wasn’t bothered about marking it etc, I just loved to read your essays so much.” I was moved to tears. I had no idea about all this till now. Sometimes, we just do our jobs the best we can, and we have no idea what impact it can have on someone else’s life. Later, around Diwali, I visited her at St Joseph’s Convent, Pune, where she lives a pleasant retired life, and plied me with cake and cream rolls.
Sister Margaret would make me read my essays to the class—and it gave me such pride and tremendous confidence to be singled out like that and encouraged. Later, most likely thanks to her, the school encouraged me to take part in an all-Bombay, inter-school essay writing competition, organised by the Zonta Club (Zonta International does advocacy for women and girls worldwide). I won the top prize, and brought an enormous shield back to the school. Later, I burst into tears when they said I could not take it home to show my Amma-Papa, as it was won by the school, and they would keep it there in a showcase so everyone could see it, and our school name would be carved on it, etc. Still, they made me feel very special when the Principal made me read out my prize-winning essay at assembly in front of the whole school the next morning.
When people ask me how I got into journalism and film, it is only for the kindness of mentors like Sr Margaret, and another very kind English teacher, who similarly encouraged me to read out my English essays to class, to whom I owe a lot—Miss Elba Fernandez, affectionately known as Nonny. As for film, my mentors include Amrit Gangar, wonderful film historian and scholar, who ran Screen Unit, where I learnt film appreciation, that has lasted me a lifetime. And the critics Maithili Rao and the late FG Jilani (Iqbal Masud), who were my mentors Eklavya-style. Above all, Dorothee Wenner, the Berlin Film Festival’s Delegate for Sub-Saharan Africa, my dearest colleague at the Berlinale, has been a most generous mentor and friend, guiding me about how Indian and South Asian cinema are perceived internationally—and much more in life. Indeed, my life is very rich, and I live in gratitude.
Meenakshi Shedde is India and South Asia Delegate to the Berlin International Film Festival, National Award-winning critic, curator to festivals worldwide and journalist.
Reach her at meenakshi.shedde@mid-day.com
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