Thoughts about a Neyveli neighbor whose studies, and life, ended prematurely :(

As I recall the life thirty-plus years ago, there were four kids in the second house from our home.  The eldest was three years older than me. The youngest was way younger than me.

The other two kids were respectively one year older and a year younger than me--in terms of the school years, at least.  The older one was Thavamani, and Gopal was my junior.  Gopal would come over once in a while to play cricket with my brother and me.  He was way too good for us, and could smash sixes and boundaries at will.

Whenever I went to Gopal's home, Thavamani had a wonderful smile--she seemed to be always in a good mood.  She exuded self-confidence, which made an impression on me given my nature that I would years later learn to be a Rodney Dangerfield syndrome :)

In the structure that was changed only recently, there were nation-wide exams even at the end of the tenth.  It was quite a stressful event for most who cared--and, thankfully, I never did, which is why even now my mother often asks "how come I never saw you study when you were in school?"

When the results were announced, as much as I couldn't care about rankings, I was excited for Thavamani--she had the third highest aggregate scores.

But, it was a very short-lived excitement when I learnt that Thavamani would study no more--the family had decided that it was time she got married.

I was shocked.  With my sister off in college, I had grown up with an idea that both boys and girls were equals and they both went to college, especially the academically smart ones.  And, yet, here was a student with a distinguished academic record whose formal education had come to a screeching halt.

I had to process all these by myself--on top of the culture that didn't encourage discussions, particularly on such practices, I was not an extroverted kid anyway.  It was a rude awakening for the fourteen-year old that I was.  I suppose there might have been a million other things in her life that I don't know of, for the elders in Thavamani's life to have decided on that kind of a travel plan for her.  But, still ...

Thavamani soon had a baby, and clearly was off on a different trajectory altogether.  I have this hazy image in my mind of Thavamani and her infant kid, but then I worry that my mind is playing tricks on me. 

A few years later, I heard from my family that Thavamani had died.

How fantastic it will be if a schoolmate read this and were to email me, "hey moron, your memory is all messed up.  Thavamani was not even your neighbor. She is alive, and went on to earn her PhD, and here is her contact info."