My childhood marble shenanigans landed me in the hot seat more than once. In the fifth grade, we had a new teacher, and I’ll confess, her lectures were as intriguing to me as watching paint dry. With only seven of us in class, while the rest of the school revelled in outdoor play, it appeared very unfair.
In a stroke of silent protest, I sent a marble skittering across the floor, an act that quickly became our version of a covert operation. Each successful roll and catch was a small victory, Like seasoned conspirators, we repeated our marble mutiny until our teacher turned detective and busted us.
Marched to the principal’s office, we wore our suspensions like badges of honour. However, instead of retreating, we held a sit-in on the school’s front lawn, an act of defiance that would make Gandhi proud. Our second day of peaceful rebellion was met with a storm of words from our red-faced principal. Yet, when we argued for fairness, she started laughing.
Years later, I had a heart-to-heart with that principal. I asked why she let us back into class after our lawn occupation. With a smile, she told me, “You were a scrappy bunch with the kind of spine that couldn’t be taught. I could teach you right from wrong, but not how to have that kind of grit.”
This proved to be an unexpected masterclass in the art of standing your ground and surrounding myself with people who have backbone, who stand firm in their beliefs and convictions. I’ve learned that it’s fine to adjust your plans, but never your principles or the passion with which you pursue them. After all, you can negotiate the ‘what’ and the ‘when,’ but the ‘who’ and the ‘how’—those are non-negotiable. That is why I have been very lucky to have worked with great teams in Comnet, HCL and now Sampark Foundation.