<p>When I received a compartment in mathematics during my ninth-grade year, my father decided to hire a math tutor to help me at least pass the compartment exam and advance to the tenth grade. Despite struggling in the subject, I managed to score average marks without help until class 9. In fact, I consciously avoided private tuition because I knew deep down it wouldn’t significantly improve my mathematical aptitude. But my compartment in class ninth was the final straw. My father decided that I had to attend math tutoring because I needed to achieve reasonably good marks in the tenth-grade board exams to be eligible for admission to the eleventh standard.</p>.<p>My father chose Mr Gupta, who happened to be an engineer by profession, as my tutor. In his early forties, Mr Gupta was known for his successful teaching methods and guaranteed results and highly sought after. When my father informed him about my dismal performance in the ninth-grade math exam, Mr Gupta assured my father that he would ensure I could get through the compartment test (a supplementary exam given to those who fail a subject). </p>.<p>During summer vacation, I began visiting Mr Gupta’s house three times a week in the morning. He insisted on punctuality, expecting me to arrive at 9 am sharp. On the very first day, he presented me with basic algebra and trigonometry problems. As expected, I was confused and had no clue how to solve them. Patiently, he taught me the fundamentals and shared some helpful techniques. Over the course of two weeks, I gradually gained a better grasp of the basics. However, since my passion did not lie in mathematics, my perennial bugbear, I often found myself losing concentration and making silly mistakes when attempting complex algebra problems. Quite often, a thunderous slap would land on either my cheeks or my head, courtesy Mr Gupta.</p>.<p>Sometimes, the very thought of attending the tuition class would make me sullen and irritable, leading to escapist tendencies in me. One scorching summer day, I left home with the intention of attending my math tuition, but instead, I headed to my maternal uncle’s house, where I stayed for the night. I felt relieved to have escaped the monotony and drudgery of tuition for that day, but the next day my father gave me the rough side of his tongue for skipping it. </p>.<p class="bodytext">When I finally appeared for my math compartment exams, I was able to score passing marks by successfully tackling the sine theta and cos theta. In my tenth board exam, I barely passed the subject, much to my father’s relief. He also profusely thanked Mr Gupta for making it possible. This marked my last encounter with mathematics. In the eleventh standard, I opted for humanities. In retrospect, I have no regrets about choosing the stream of my choice.</p>
<p>When I received a compartment in mathematics during my ninth-grade year, my father decided to hire a math tutor to help me at least pass the compartment exam and advance to the tenth grade. Despite struggling in the subject, I managed to score average marks without help until class 9. In fact, I consciously avoided private tuition because I knew deep down it wouldn’t significantly improve my mathematical aptitude. But my compartment in class ninth was the final straw. My father decided that I had to attend math tutoring because I needed to achieve reasonably good marks in the tenth-grade board exams to be eligible for admission to the eleventh standard.</p>.<p>My father chose Mr Gupta, who happened to be an engineer by profession, as my tutor. In his early forties, Mr Gupta was known for his successful teaching methods and guaranteed results and highly sought after. When my father informed him about my dismal performance in the ninth-grade math exam, Mr Gupta assured my father that he would ensure I could get through the compartment test (a supplementary exam given to those who fail a subject). </p>.<p>During summer vacation, I began visiting Mr Gupta’s house three times a week in the morning. He insisted on punctuality, expecting me to arrive at 9 am sharp. On the very first day, he presented me with basic algebra and trigonometry problems. As expected, I was confused and had no clue how to solve them. Patiently, he taught me the fundamentals and shared some helpful techniques. Over the course of two weeks, I gradually gained a better grasp of the basics. However, since my passion did not lie in mathematics, my perennial bugbear, I often found myself losing concentration and making silly mistakes when attempting complex algebra problems. Quite often, a thunderous slap would land on either my cheeks or my head, courtesy Mr Gupta.</p>.<p>Sometimes, the very thought of attending the tuition class would make me sullen and irritable, leading to escapist tendencies in me. One scorching summer day, I left home with the intention of attending my math tuition, but instead, I headed to my maternal uncle’s house, where I stayed for the night. I felt relieved to have escaped the monotony and drudgery of tuition for that day, but the next day my father gave me the rough side of his tongue for skipping it. </p>.<p class="bodytext">When I finally appeared for my math compartment exams, I was able to score passing marks by successfully tackling the sine theta and cos theta. In my tenth board exam, I barely passed the subject, much to my father’s relief. He also profusely thanked Mr Gupta for making it possible. This marked my last encounter with mathematics. In the eleventh standard, I opted for humanities. In retrospect, I have no regrets about choosing the stream of my choice.</p>