Sunday 25 September 2016

Math, Not Even Once

Maths, a subject of curiosity and debate amongst the world's most exceptional minds; it is also the subject that had befuddled me throughout my student life.
It's not like I can't do maths, it's just that I really can't get my head around it.
And clearly, it's the reason why I pretty much despised my school life.
The thing is, in school you're brought up to believe that maths is the only subject you need to do well in.
If you did well in literature, geography or history for that matter, no one would give a damn.
But damn you, if you ever flunked in maths.
Then your teacher, your parents, even that one nosy relative, would be up in arms questioning you. 
Till primary school, maths was of no concern to me, since all it had was simple calculations. 
My real struggle was the complex stuff that came in high school.
Stuff like algebra, the equations, and what not. 
The one thing I liked out of those was geometry and only because it involved drawing triangles and shit. 
But since it was maths, even geometry had calculations, and that I didn't like one bit.
My parents would make me attend classes after classes, just so that I could improve in maths.
However, it was all a waste cause my grades showed no signs of improvement even after all the effort I put in.
When it came to studying other subjects, I had absolutely no problem.
Maths was my Achilles heel and I secretly used to wish that I didn't have to study it.
I never shared that same sentiment for literature, which I loved the most.
Science felt tricky but only to a certain extent.
What made it worse was that my sisters were good at it and always set a bar that my parents hoped I would one day surpass.
I was unfazed by that until a certain incident happened when I was in sixth grade or so.
It was the start of our new school term and on the first day, my class was introduced to our maths teacher.
She began by asking who had older siblings in this school and many raised their hands, including me.
Then she took my sister's name and asked who was related to her, this time only my hand stood raised.
She looked at me and asked the same question again, as if trying to ascertain if it was true.
I didn't give it too much thought and nodded my head.
However, it all started when during her classes she directed all her maths problems to me, hoping I could solve them. 
And me being me, I couldn't.
It was a lot puzzling to me and she too felt the same; later she completely gave up on expecting me to solve any problems.
I guess she might have figured out that not every genius student has an equally genius sibling.
I still wish I had understood her intention so I could've made that fact clear to her from the start.
As my school life got over, I did wonder what I would in my future since maths was that one enemy I had to face in any career path I chose.
I was safe in my junior college since maths was an optional subject and I stayed as far as I could from it.
But it bounced back once again to bother me in my first year of degree college.
I nearly failed that subject in my first term, all because I still felt I couldn’t do it.
My mom insisted me to take classes or risk failing in maths, again.
However, I said to myself, that this time I had enough.
I started spending less time playing around and more time studying maths.
Then the second term exams came and I was completely prepared.
I did well and I passed the subject, something I was proud of, something I was dying to do in my school life.
It wasn't just hard work or dedication; it was simply my own will power to prove that if I put my mind to it, I could do anything.
And that is something I still believe to this date.
Though, if anyone ever asks me if would want to study maths again, I'd totally respond by saying, "Maths? Nah bro, not even once"

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